Album Review: Celt Islam - Medina EP (2014)

Here’s another great new release from Earth City Recordz, just out on Bandcamp this month. This time it’s the Medina EP, from our good friend Celt Islam, and once again it’s an intoxicating blend of boundary-pushing electro and state-of-the-art dub.

This is truly wonderful stuff, whether it’s the rootsy feel of the title track, the pulsing eastern flavours of ‘Warrior Dub’ (featuring The Renegade Sufi), or the harder dubsteppy/industrial edges to closer ‘Khanaqa’ (featuring Inder Goldfinger), it all adds up to another compelling listen, a dud-free five track EP of the highest quality.

As the blurb says, Celt Islam’s music is … “a fusion of western and middle eastern influences combined with a futurist Islamic dub attitude. Open the doors of your mind and soul to Electro Dub Sufism!! …”

And who could argue with that?

 

Get the Medina EP here

 

Here's the opening track 'Freedom' ...

 

 

 

Guest Post/Gig Review: Jake Bugg, Auckland Town Hall, April 10 2014

Time for a guest post … welcome Methven-based musician and artist Pania Brown, who gets to the those pesky places everythingsgonegreen can’t always reach … somewhere like Auckland on a Thursday night, say, and a Jake Bugg gig at the Town Hall …

Here's the ‘somethings’ I think you need for making successful music:

 1. you need good songs

 2. you don't need a gimmick

 3. you don't need "a look" but...

 4. you do need to look good

 5. you need to be good

 6. you need to believe in yourself

 7. make it look effortless

Whether he would admit to having ever thought so hard about the Rules of Rock 'n' Roll as written by such as myself, 20 year-old Nottingham born Jake Bugg follows, reinvents and bends the rules as he wants.

What strikes me immediately on seeing him is he is young and small, and it's hard to believe he can command a large stage basically alone and command it like an old hand. The band tears into the 20 songs like men possessed and again I am surprised by how much of a rock star he is ... I was expecting more of the crooning ballads, a stool and an acoustic guitar I suppose. There are those songs too, the highlight being "Broken" where the single light illuminates his small figure alone on stage, just a man, a guitar, a bloody good tune and a distinctive mega voice, you can hear a pin drop and the sound of young hearts breaking all the way along the front row. He makes it look sooo easy. No question, this kid's good.
 

 

The concert was way more rock 'n' roll than I had expected, I knew he played electric guitar, but I wasn't expecting the nonchalance with which he did so, and the roaring of the crowd to any solos and his occasional casual wander around the stage towards the eager young fans pressing up against the stage, suggests I wasn't the only one.

I wasn't able to come to his previous concert here. I hear he was vastly better this time around, having been merely amazing last time. I hear this one was twice as well attended. The amount of touring he's squeezed in the last few years will certainly have helped. He's been a very busy man, and in one of the few things he said to the audience  - (as a) man of few words - he acknowledged their support, as the effort made to come all this way to the other end of the world is not small, nor does it go unappreciated thanks Jake!

The audience was more varied from my expectations, from the very young to the much older, and people like me - somewhere in between - and bless! not a "snap-back" to be seen, which suggests his much more eclectic fan base.

Bugg must be sick of hearing that he's an old soul, but when he sings "They keep telling me, I'm older than I'm supposed to be" (on “Storm Passes Away” from Shangri-la), you believe it regardless of his age, and so do all the kids in the audience on Thursday night at the Town Hall. When he rolls through "Two Fingers", and the entire audience put up their fingers and sing along - which they do to most of the songs - I am aware of what classics these songs now are to many, and how he has captured the thoughts of his generation, whether the youth of New Zealand, or the UK, or anywhere in between. Smart boy. Smart man.

When 2012 saw the release of his self titled debut and I first heard it, yet again I was blown away by his youth because the songs are very - and I hate genre-labelling – well, "old" sounding ... was it country? Was it rockabilly? Was it pop? And why the hell was a kid from Nottingham playing and singing like that? But none of that matters at the end of the day, I loved it, and I loved it even more when seeing him in the flesh, interviewed on chat shows and seeing how down to earth he seemed and so downright ... well, cool and unaffected. The fact that he looks like the love child of Noel Gallagher - a friend and big fan - and The Beatles isn't a bad thing, but he sounds like neither. He sounds like someone mixed early Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Johnny Cash and Gene Pitney into a blender and pressed 'whizz'.

In that small body dressed in simple unadorned black t-shirt, jeans and trainers, there's no doubt in my mind Jake Bugg knows exactly what he's about and where he's going - first album No 1. No problem. The much feared second album, easily as good as the first, different but the same, d'you know what I mean?

I was smiling from the carefully chosen pre-show songs: Johnny Cash "Personal Jesus", The Smiths "How Soon Is Now?" to the end of the show and the encore with a cover of Neil Young's "Hey, Hey My My". Of course Bugg would probably be aware that Oasis used to play that as one of their regular covers, statement of intent innit? It seems someone knows exactly what they are doing. Or maybe he just likes the tune, either way, Jake Bugg's come so far so soon, I'm so keen to see what he does next. Seems like rock 'n' roll's in good hands again. My my.

 

Words and photos: Pania Brown. Pania can be found performing live at various South Island venues of ill repute, and also at Pania Brown Artworks.

 

Classic Album Review: The The - Soul Mining (1983)

Just a quick look at an album about to enjoy a 30th anniversary Deluxe makeover – which is due for release on June 30 2014. It’s an album I’ve endured a love/hate relationship with over the years after being an early convert and fan. On occasions I’ve returned to it and thoroughly enjoyed it, yet at other times I’ve found myself wondering what all the fuss was about ... but I suppose the fact that I’m looking forward to a Deluxe version some 30 years on is perhaps the best indicator of how I feel about it. I wrote a review for the album half a dozen years ago (for another site) and I thought I’d reproduce that here. Even at that point it appears I still couldn’t make up my mind ...

Soul Mining was the debut album for ridiculously-named The The, aka Matt Johnson, and when it was released in 1983 it met with much critical acclaim due to its insightful, immediately intimate, and often soul-baring lyrical content. Many in the music press at the time considered it to be merely the first instalment of what would surely be a succession of fine albums from Johnson. They were wrong. For me, Soul Mining stands today, the best part of a quarter of a century later, as the high watermark in Johnson’s rather fragmented career, and rarely would he come close to approaching such heights again.

Or perhaps I should rephrase that – rarely would Johnson emulate the heights that the *best* tracks on the album reach, and Soul Mining remains a somewhat inconsistent and uneven release.

It is no coincidence that two of the album’s three truly outstanding tracks – ‘This Is The Day’ and ‘Perfect’* – are also its most uplifting and optimistic moments, full of self-evaluation and wry observations about the state of the world and Johnson’s place in it. While both songs are laced with cynicism, dark paranoia, and equally large helpings of sarcasm, what makes them uplifting is their poppy structure and Johnson soothing us with a couple of genuinely positive life-affirming declarations in each chorus:

On ‘This Is The Day’

“This is the day, my life begins to change, This is the day, when things fall into place”

On ‘Perfect’

“Oh what a perfect day, to think about myself, My feet are firmly screwed to the floor, what is there to fear from such a regular world”

‘Uncertain Smile’ is the third stand-out, not so much for its similarly dark and contemplative lyrics, but mainly for the cameo hand offered by Jools Holland and his mastery of the keys. It’s superb, and there is a piano “solo” (go figure!) tucked away in there that really has to be heard to be believed. 

The rest of the album? … well, to be perfectly honest I struggle with it, and I just find the remaining five tracks to be far less friendly on the ear - at best - and downright inaccessible - at worst. It all feels a little overbearing and perhaps Johnson was guilty of trying a bit too hard. I dunno, maybe there’s just a little too much heart-on-sleeve self-loathing for my taste.

Overall, the aptly-titled Soul Mining is ultimately not as good as the majority of critics rated it at the time, but it is still well worth a listen nonetheless, if only for its three essential and quite brilliant highlights.

* The original vinyl LP edition of Soul Mining did not include ‘Perfect’, which was actually a great shame because it really was a genuine Eighties classic, and given that it was released as a single around the same time as the album, it would normally have been an automatic inclusion. Curiously, on my belated CD release (purchased in the UK circa 1994) it appears as an ideal upbeat album closer. I also note the blurb on the Deluxe release mentions the exclusion of ‘Perfect’ on the original album ... but yep, I’ve checked again and it’s right there on my CD. So either I’m completely bonkers or it was added belatedly to some versions/formats. I’m opting for the latter.

For details on the upcoming 2014 Deluxe version go here.

Oh, and here’s ‘Perfect’:

Classic Album Review: The Cure - Disintegration (1989)

I can’t pinpoint a specific time, a date, or even a year, but at some point in the mid-to-late Eighties, I found myself no longer listening to the music of The Cure on any regular basis. The band had long dominated my world of music consumerism, and (back then) only New Order could rival it in terms of numbers so far as my “music collection” was concerned.

It wasn’t really a conscious thing, a deliberate decision, or anything quite like that, but somewhere along the way I simply ceased to care. I guess I just felt sure that the band at its best had already been captured on those early albums, and to a set of ears fast becoming attuned to the disco-ball excesses of club and house music, much of the band’s post-1985 work was starting to come across as little more than lightweight throwaway pop fare.

It took me a year or two to realise it, but Disintegration was different, and it was an album to pull me (temporarily) back into the fold. This album finds Robert Smith right back to his dark goth-flavoured best, and Disintegration stands as a major return to form … albeit one that turned out to be rather fleeting in the end.

The more high-profile tracks on here will be well known to most – even non-Cure enthusiasts; ‘Pictures Of You’, ‘Lovesong’, ‘Lullaby’, and ‘Fascination Street’ having all been given considerable exposure both at the time of the album’s release and over subsequent years.

All four cuts are decent enough examples of what can be found on Disintegration, but it is perhaps the lesser known tracks that really impress the most – which is always a good sign. ‘Last Dance’ is classic Smith and sounds as though it wouldn’t be out of place on either Faith or Pornography, ditto the intense ‘Prayers For Rain’ and the epic ‘The Same Deep Water As You’, both of which are superb.

While the theme and the general feel of the album is essentially heavy and foreboding, its excellent production ensures it remains fully accessible to even the most casual of fans. Even with lyrical emphasis placed on the cryptic, and on relationships and matters of the heart, seldom does it plunge the suicidal depths of the aforementioned Pornography album.

All of the usual Cure markers are present and accounted for – multi-layered keyboards, trademark pulsing bass, and of course, Smith’s excellent guitar work with its heavy reliance on the careful art of repetition. All the while Smith’s unmistakable vocal towers above what is quite often a wall of sound. The polish applied in terms of production provides the perfect finishing touch.

Disintegration stands as a snapshot of just where Smith was at in 1989 … able to embrace his natural “pop” instincts without compromising the “traditional” sound of The Cure. Recommended.

 

Prayers For Rain:

 

 

 

Classic Album Review: The Cure - The Head On The Door (1985)

By the mid Eighties, the music of The Cure was starting to evolve. The 1984 album, The Top, had been a lightweight and far more pop-orientated affair than previous efforts, while strong radio-friendly singles like the funky ‘Let’s Go To Bed’ and the jazzy genre-bending ‘The Lovecats’ also marked a notable change of direction for the band. Suffice to say, Robert Smith had started to reveal a happier side, and a hitherto untapped penchant for idiosyncratic pop music was slowly but surely being unveiled.

So by the time The Head On The Door came out in 1985, The Cure had already taken a couple of giant leaps towards mainstream/crossover success, and in all respects this album succeeded in consolidating the band’s new found popularity with the masses.

It’s not that Smith and co had completely abandoned the goth-pop formula and post-punk leanings that dominated earlier work, it’s more that The Head On The Door struck just the right balance between the light and the dark.

It helped of course that the album contained a couple of brilliant singles in the form of ‘In Between Days’ and ‘Close To Me’, both of which enjoyed high rotation on the increasingly influential MTV playlist, something that did much to enhance the band’s fledgling popularity outside of the UK.

‘In Between Days’ is quite simply one of the best songs The Cure ever released and it doubles as The Head On The Door’s opener. Propelled by a repetitive baseline (an old Cure trick) and Smith’s virtuoso guitar (he’s not the best guitarist in the world but he’s certainly one of the most instantly recognisable post-punk guitar heroes), ‘In Between Days’ reflects the coming together of those two strands of the band’s sound – its bouncy upbeat tempo being almost at odds with its murky lyrical content.

‘Close To Me’ on the other hand, is far more straightforward, and even today probably represents one of Smith’s finest “pop” moments. Bright, inventive, and undeniably romantic, it helped establish Smith as a master of the eccentric love song. The catchy lyrical hooks and cheery synth certainly helped highlight the band’s new commercial sensibility.

Instrumentally and musically, The Head On The Door found The Cure adopting a far more diverse and worldly approach than ever before, one that incorporated several strong international flavours – as with the Japanese feel of ‘Kyoto Song’, and the Latin/flamenco guitar on ‘The Blood’.

‘Six Different Ways’ is a poppy little number, devoid of very much at all outside of exposing Smith’s vocal at its most quirkiest, and it almost threatens the filler status I’d definitely assign to ‘The Screw’, which sounds more like a half-finished and rather annoying idea than a fully-fledged track befitting an album of this quality.

‘The Baby Screams’ finds us back in familiar bassline-driven territory, while the much loved ‘A Night Like This’ (was this a third single?) is a dark repetitive guitar-based track and one of Robert Smith’s best ever laments of lost love, with – unthinkable for fans of the band’s earlier minimalism – what appears to be a pretty darned impressive sax solo.

The closer ‘Sinking’ is a monumental combination of heavy synth and introspective/dark lyrics, and it challenges ‘Push’ as the album’s main highlight outside of the singles. ‘Push’ features a brief but wonderful set of psychedelic lyrics, and with its waves of cascading guitar it has lost none of the intensity it first wooed me with nearly 30 years ago ... it remains one of my favourite Cure tracks.

The Head On The Door still rates as one of The Cure’s best albums, it cemented Smith’s reputation as a clever wordsmith and exposed his love of the short sharp quirky pop song. Over the course, Smith went on to change many of the default rules that originally applied to his band’s music, and despite the occasional glance back over his shoulder (see Disintegration, Bloodflowers) – with some degree of success it has to be said – this album gave The Cure genuine fresh momentum, and there really was no turning back beyond this point.

Push:

 

Classic Album Review: The Cure - Pornography (1982)

Having been a fan of everything The Cure released prior to Pornography, I recall being fairly quick off the mark to pick up a copy as soon as it came out. I also remember feeling a little underwhelmed and generally pretty disappointed with it, and my opinion on the album hasn’t changed much in the intervening years.

I guess what I appreciated most about The Cure’s earliest stuff was the simple structure of many of the songs, and an almost minimalist approach to making pop music. Yet with each new album from early 1979 through to 1981 – from Boys Don’t Cry through Seventeen Seconds to Faith – the band’s sound became much fuller and increasingly more complex. By album number four, Pornography, simplicity and modest pop forms were evidently the last things on Robert Smith’s mind.

 

I don’t mind the darker angst-ridden stuff (some would say I live for it, even) – see reviews for Seventeen Seconds and Faith – but Pornography always felt like one suicidal step too far; too dense, too bleak, with too much gloomy synth, and a touch too much wailing or generally indecipherable vocals. Maybe it’s just a production thing, but it doesn’t work for me.

I realise Pornography is the album most likely to feature at the very summit of many Cure fans’ “best ever” lists, I’ve even seen it cited as Smith’s masterpiece, but it still rates well down the list for me; ahead of some of the band’s more frivolous and lightweight pop excursions certainly, but below the likes of Seventeen Seconds, Disintegration, Faith, Boys Don’t Cry, The Head On The Door, and even Bloodflowers.

Nonetheless, ‘The Hanging Garden’ remains one of the band’s best singles, ‘One Hundred Years’ is a strong opener, and ‘A Strange Day’ is another obvious highlight on Pornography. The rest I could probably live without.

 

 

 

Classic Album Review: The Cure - Faith (1981)

Sometimes it’s all about your first exposure to an album. Where you heard it, how you experienced it – the context, the sense of occasion, and sometimes something like the sound quality of the equipment you hear it on can have a huge bearing on the impression it leaves ...

I recall one of the first times I heard Faith - it may very well in fact have been THE first time - shortly after its release, probably sometime in late 1981. I was sitting in a friend’s pride and joy Mitsubishi GTO (or a “get turned on” as he referred to it), marvelling at the vehicle’s sleek lines, instantaneous response, and all-round Boy Racer “cool factor”. It was night time, the dashboard was a collection of bright lights and flash buttons. It looked for all the world exactly as I imagined the cockpit of a jumbo jet would, and right in the middle of said dash was a state-of-the-art car audio (or a “cassette stereo” as we knew it). The GTO was also suitably equipped with - what were in those prehistoric Hi-Fi days - speakers to die for.

 

Then it happened. Press play … the tolling of bells, the rolling, almost funky bassline of the album’s opener ‘The Holy Hour’. Then the reckless angry abandon of the excellent single ‘Primary’, followed by the dark paranoid angst of ‘Other Voices’ ... just three tracks in, I was already hooked, an instant convert, and there would be no turning back.

I was indeed “turned on” and tuned in to The Cure. It is something that stayed with me, and even today I have difficulty listening to Faith without being transported back to that place and time, that motor vehicle, and that sublime car audio.

The opening three tracks are mere tasters for what follows. Faith is an album without filler, a true classic of its type and genre, a breakthrough of sorts, even though commercial/mainstream success on a global scale (not to mention bouts of self-parody) was still a few years away yet for Robert Smith & co.

The only real criticism I have of Faith is its length, just eight tracks clocking in at around 37 minutes. Given that the epic single ‘Charlotte Sometimes’ was released shortly afterwards, and never actually made its way onto any other “standard” Cure album (although it is included on various subsequent compilation packages and 2005’s Deluxe version of Faith), it is not as though Smith was struggling for quality material during those years of prolific output 1979 to 1982.

Of the remaining five tracks, the (albeit gloomy) title-track itself is probably the pick of a brilliant bunch, suitably positioned as the album closer. The multi-layered doom extravaganza that is ‘The Drowning Man’ is very much a mini-epic in its own right, while ‘Doubt’ gives us another flash of Smith’s rather more animated form of disaffection with the world, ala ‘Primary’.

‘All Cats Are Grey’ and ‘Funeral Party’ are probably my least favourite tracks on the album, both are perhaps a little too dreary for my taste, but even in saying that, I’ve learned to love both for what they are over years of repeated listening.

Robert Smith would, of course, go on to create some of the murkiest gloom and doom ever committed to vinyl, and many consider Faith to be the initial instalment of a somewhat glum trilogy, one that also features its 1982 follow-up, Pornography, and 1989’s Disintegration ... I’m not sure whether that still stands, but regardless, Faith is a perfectly fine standalone album as it is.

Highly-recommended – more so if you happen to find yourself trapped in a confined space, surrounded by booming speakers, and propelling forward towards the point of no return at what feels like the speed of sound.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Classic Album Review: The Cure - Seventeen Seconds (1980)

This is the first of five classic album posts featuring the work of The Cure ... all written a while back, and I’ll post them to the blog in chronological order:

Every avid music fan has a special place in their collection for a select number of albums they’d consider all-time favourites. No two all-time lists would ever be identical because taste is such a subjective, personal, and often intimate thing.

If ever I was attempting to compile any such list of personal Desert Island Delights, Seventeen Seconds is just as likely to be one of those albums sitting right near the very top. And I guess for me, that’s been the case for more than 30 years now. This, despite the fact that many of the band’s hardcore fans are unlikely to rate Seventeen Seconds as their “chosen one”. Yep, taste is a very personal and intimate thing indeed. As Robert Smith himself suggests on the excellent ‘Play For Today’ ... “it's not a case of doing what's right, it's just the way I feel that matters, tell me I'm wrong, I don't really care ...”

 

Having been seriously impressed when Faith came out in 1981, I worked my way back through the then not-so-extensive (at that point) Cure back catalogue and Seventeen Seconds quickly established itself as the benchmark by which I would judge all future Cure releases.

Through the years I’ve found myself returning to it and it never lets me down. For me, it captures perfectly the headspace I found myself dwelling in back in those late teenage post-punk years of 1980 thru to 1983, and although any rational sane person may consider such a notion pretty unhealthy, it remains a period of my life that I just can’t let go. Just another one of those boring “soundtrack of my youth” … “best days of my life” scenarios - call it a time, place, and had to be there, thing.

And how many seriously deranged (or otherwise) post-pubescent Gothboy-wannabees could relate to the words contained within the album’s finest moment ‘A Forest’ … “come closer and see, see into the trees, find the girl, while you can ... come closer and see, see into the dark, just follow your eyes, just follow your eyes …”

And to give Smith his due - he got the next bit right as well - the girl was NEVER there, and yes siree, it was ALWAYS the same …“running towards nothing, again and again and again and again …”

(*Unlucky in love, your blogger adopts a mock tortured pose for effect*)

From the experimental atmospheric instrumentals (of sorts - they’re rather more like interludes) ‘A Reflection’ and ‘The Final Sound’ through to the classic simplicity and repetition of ‘In Your House’, ‘Play For Today’, ‘M’, and ‘Secrets’, this is a finely crafted piece of work. Then there is, as mentioned above, the utter and total genius of the band’s seminal work ‘A Forest’; hugely influential, often copied, frequently covered, but never bettered.

It is often said that familiarity ultimately leads to contempt; in the case of Seventeen Seconds the opposite applies. That familiarity takes me to the sort of comfortable warm zone seldom found amid dark, stark, and otherwise obscure surrounds. Each to their own, but this is a back-of-the-hand album, I know every last chord change, each and every nuance in Smith’s burgeoning voice; conscious nor subconscious anticipation of either never wears thin.

The 2005 Deluxe Edition CD release – at least my third such copy of the album through the years, but my first on disc – contains a bonus CD which features different versions of the tracks, live versions, alternate takes, home demos of non-album material, rare ‘Cult Hero’ stuff from the band’s earliest incarnation – but to be honest, none of it could be considered “essential listening” regardless of how collectable it may once have been. I was a little disappointed with some of the sound quality on the bonus CD – I really wanted a definitive version of ‘Another Journey By Train’ (an instrumental b-side of some repute) but found the demo on this distorted and muddy. Still, that must be considered only a minor complaint, and it takes nothing away from how I feel about the original album as a whole.

Seventeen Seconds … a measure of life.

 

 

 

The Forest And The Trees

Continuing a local/grassroots theme, a post about something and nothing really:

So I’ve just had the rather unusual experience of turning down a “free” door pass to a gig. Given my Scottish heritage, this is not something I do very often, and it’s certainly not something that comes naturally. But I had to. I’ll be at the gig in question – a couple of local cover bands: Splintered In Her Head (Cure covers) and Permanence (Joy Division covers) – at Wellington venue Bodega, without question, but I had to turn down “free” entry as a matter of principle. Let me explain ...

 

I “won” the pass on Facebook by correctly answering a question relating to Robert Smith (of The Cure), but I hadn’t read the fine print for competition entry. One of the conditions stated that I had to sign a petition (run by Alastair Ross, but also being pushed by Splintered In Her Head’s Michel Rowland, click here) to bring The Cure to New Zealand in 2014. Rowland is a huge fan of the band, his passion is undoubted, and it’s a fairly simple request right? ... well, no, not really. You see, I’d already been quite outspoken on social media about this particular petition, I’d discussed it with friends, and I’d concluded that actually, I don’t want to see The Cure in NZ in 2014.

 

Not your average covers band

So to then sign the petition just as soon as it suited me would have been rather hypocritical in the extreme. I couldn’t do it, and figured the pass really ought to go to someone who was prepared to sign the petition honestly, enthusiastically, and unconditionally. I contacted Rowland and declined the pass to his band’s gig once I realised one of the conditions behind it. I explained my reasoning – basically, it’s because I’m anal, and it’s something I touched on in a previous blogpost about the Buzzcocks – and assured him that I’d be at Splintered In Her Head’s gig regardless. And I will be.

My reasoning is roughly this: I’m always wary of seeing a band in its dotage, or past its prime, for fear it will somehow spoil how I feel about the band. When a band has been one of my long-time favourites, that fear is somewhat more acute. For me – though there has been the odd exception to my “rule” – it is akin to watching a punch drunk heavyweight boxer stumble around the ring trying revive the glory of former years. I’ve always said I thought Robert Smith and the band should have called it quits after Bloodflowers in 2000, and nothing The Cure has done since has given me cause to change that opinion.

 

I did warn you that it was anal. And I guess I’ve just been stung before (another long-winded story, for another time and blogpost).



Robert Smith: no makeup selfie

But I do get what petitioner Ross and Rowland are trying to achieve. For them it is a passion, and from all accounts The Cure’s 2014 “world” tour will be all about embracing a great trilogy of albums from 1984 to 1987: The Top (1984), The Head On The Door (1985), and Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me (1987), so it’s not as though a raft of new (potentially awful) material would be unleashed on any unsuspecting fan.

 

And I have absolutely no objection to Cure cover bands! I practically grew up with one. And with the chance to see Permanence as well – with a collection of Joy Division covers? ... who would object to paying just $10 for that kind of double bill?

 

I thought Rowland might be a little offended by my attitude to his favourite band – I mean, why couldn’t I just sign the petition when it was going to benefit so many other Cure fans, right? ... no, he replied and it turns out he shares some of the same fears, he’s just a little bit more relaxed about that sort of thing. We’ve since hooked up on Facebook and I’d now like to consider myself one of Splintered In Her Head’s biggest fans! (lol) ... after all, even though I’ve yet to see them live, they’re still in their PRIME years and from all accounts they’ve got a set-list full of pretty decent tunes! ...

And just because Rowland was so damn personable in his dealings with the weirdo who turned down the free pass, and because he is so passionate ... click here for a link to the petition.

And it also occurs to me that I’ve got half a dozen or so Cure album reviews published elsewhere, sitting dormant, probably unloved and unread, all the while everythingsgonegreen is screaming out for content ... so over the next week or so leading up to the Bodega gig, I’ll post a few of those on the blog ...

Splintered In Her Head and Permanence play Bodega, Wellington, on April 5 2014

Reasons To Be Cheerful parts 1, 2, and 3 ...

Well it’s been a crazy couple of weeks here at the everythingsgonegreen mansion, and it has only reinforced my belief that nothing brings a family closer together than serious illness. Suffice to say I’ve seen more of Wellington hospital over the past week or so than I have over the previous three decades put together. In short, the blog has been a bit quiet while real life kicked in once again.

That’s not to say I haven’t been thinking about music, and I’ve certainly been listening to more than my fair share. They say every cloud has a silver lining, and if four nights in hospital was genuine torture for the teenager concerned (and it was!), it did give her old man the chance to “road test” some new music while pondering the fragility of life during those daily 100km-return trips to and fro.

So, new albums from the likes of Sun Kil Moon, Warpaint, and Dum Dum Girls will be reviewed here over the next couple of weeks. But in the meantime I wanted to make local (Wellington-based) readers aware of a couple of upcoming gigs featuring bands with a close association to the blog – three of Wellington’s finest ... all playing at Meow on Edward Street:

First up, this Friday March 21, we have blog favourites Black City Lights alongside Pikachunes, Beat Mob, and Groeni. The flyer says Black City Lights will play at 11pm, but get along for the support bands – I can highly recommend Pikachunes in particular – and then let Beat Mob take you further into the weekend after Black City Lights has done its always impressive darkwave thing. All for $10.

Then on Saturday 29 March we have hard-working local funkateers Bikini Roulette, a band that produced one of this blog’s favourite albums of 2013 (Erotik Fiction) with its heady mix of funk and old fashioned dirty blues. Lady Parts provide support – as it so often does – and although the name Steezin’ Hawkings is new one for yours truly, it’s certainly an intriguing name, and at just $5 on the door, what could possibly go wrong?

 And finally, at the same venue, on Friday 11 April, we have the much anticipated return of Vorn, whose 2011 album Down For It did so much to restore my faith in local music with its spellbinding mix of quirky pop and humour. This is an album release party for More Songs About Girls And The Apocalypse (is it really album number seven?) and support this time will come from Warwick and the Wankers, and NEVERWOZ. Just $10 on the door.

So that’s three reasons to be cheerful; three potentially great gigs in the next three weeks, all at Meow, ten acts for a combined total outlay of just $25 ... quality.
 

Oh, and since we’re counting reasons to be cheerful, I’ll add reasons four and five right here and now; reason number four is that said teenager’s illness was finally diagnosed and she is now out of any immediate danger and is happy to be back home – massive love and respect to her for her bravery and maturity in the face of considerable adversity. While reason number five is simply that this blogpost is post number 200 for everythingsgonegreen ... a small milestone that even your humble blogger never expected to reach.