Carole PopeGladstone Hotel8 pm & 10 pm2006-12-07

When 2006 rolled around I didn't know it was going to be a retro year. It's like I woke up in the hey-day of the New Wave era. If it wasn't the Buzzcocks or Charlatans UK, it was Robert Gordon and Billy Bragg. If it wasn't them it was bands that owed their existence to music created in those years between 1979-1982...the Arctic Monkeys who cop a few licks from the Jam and the Raconteurs who are reviving the Detroit Garage scene. So it's fitting I come to close out the year with a trip back down memory lane to see Carole Pope.

I first saw Carole Pope in 1974 doing a Saturday matinee show at the Colonial Tavern on Yonge St. This venue was a 'home away from home' for blues greats like John Lee Hooker, Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee. It's days as a 'happening' place were numbered. So were Yonge Streets. No more Meet Market, no more Nickelodeon. I was still too young to drink at this time, my older cousin happened upon her set the day before and was so blown away he convinced me to make my way over and try to get in. Security wasn't what it used to be, if it was ever anything.

There were about 5 people in the place as Carole and Kevan Staples, her partner in Rough Trade, went through the gyrations. I would have said 'motions' but once you've seen Carole you know they're gyrations. This was very early in their public career, before they had a recording contract.

Some people exude sensuality.
Carole sweated sex.

In tight leather, front zipper opened to the mid-rif, hand jammed deep into her crotch as she screamed her way through the hormonally fueled paeon to lesbian lust unrequited, High School Confidential, she was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Not even on film as this was pre-cable, pre-VHS and pre-porn explosion. I was a fan.

A couple of years later I saw her do two sets at a punk-club called The Edge, in Toronto. The New Wave scene was percolating in Toronto. We had live music clubs up the wazoo, from Larry's Hideaway to Lee's Palace to that club on St Joseph's St where I saw John Cooper Clarke. The Edge had been home to two other shows of an overtly sexual nature, at least an alternative style, as I saw both Wayne County and the Electric Chairs as well as post-op, Jayne County perform live sets. Now Carole's 'alt-lifestyle' was not so apparent to me back at the dark, empty Colonial. There were no girls in the audience then, it's a tap house. So, naturally, I thought she was talking to me from that stage. Turns out not. Over the intervening years Rough Trade developed a hard-core following among the sisterhood. This was a little more apparent in the packed confines of The Edge where sapphic love dolls performed tongue dances in every nook and cranny of the place. What else they used their nooks and crannies for I can't relate here.

An interesting side-bar to this show, local comic Martin Short, a regular at the Toronto chapter of the Second City Review and a high-school friend of Carole's, was opening the show. A weird combination, I thought. It's not like the fan bases will have a lot of overlap. It's more a Venn Diagram with two circles that never meet. Well, not never, Cece and I were there. Most of the audience was not in the mood for a stand up act. One gentleman in particular figured he'd voice his opinion using a mug of beer. Martin stood onstage, soaked and pointed out to the audience to ask: "How many people think that guy is sitting beside someone who is saying 'Man, you're an idiot!" (loud cheers) "How many people think that guy's girlfriend is thinking twice about putting out later?" (loud cheers) "How many people think that guy has a dick 'this' big?" (holding fingers one inch apart to loud cheers). Regained a little respect, Martin did. What he didn't do is show up the next night to finish the stand.

Besides being on the cutting edge of the performance art that is live rock n roll, Kevin and Carole also delved into the outer reaches of available recording technology. In search of a sound as vital and raw as Caroles weapons they recorded a 'direct-to-disc' record of their material, ostensibly a live performance as they cut the two sides 15 times each and selected the best two recordings. Once the disc started recording it took everything, even the between record breaks are actually live dead air...one mistake, the side was fucked. They printed 30,000 copies. Mine is number 9494.

For much more on the history of Rough Trade take a look at this page:
Much More on Rough Trade Page

Now go back up a line and take a look at that page I linked to. Both Carole and Kevan have had some interesting projects through the years I lost track.

Came upon this brief two-set appearance quite by happy accident, which is how most good things occur. We decide to see the whole evening and find ourselves in what can only be described as a 'lesbian bar', let's just say the demographics are becoming more obvious as time rolls on, or I'm becoming more staid. Terrific atmosphere though, everyone seems excited about seeing their friends and seeing their hero.

Both sets are very similar, only one song from the first set didn't appear in the second, Americana. She added Twist of the Knife and a brief foray into Birds of A Feather in the late show.

She opens with a song about the fall of Rough Trade, You Can't Go Back. A little ironic these many years later as she is going back. The band is being inducted into the Indie Artists Hall of Fame in the spring of 2007 and she'll be doing some reunion gigs with Kevan.

For news on current Carole check out her myspace page: Carole's MySpace Page

The set list leans heavily on material from last years Transcend release. Songs not unlike those she was doing in '74, perhaps a little less salacious although with titles like 'Seduction', 'Love Strikes Hard' and the song about eating pussy, 'Edible Flower', it's hard to see where she's mellowed.

Come to think of it, she hasn't changed much, still looking sleek and mean as ever, she's a tight 56, even if she alludes to the toll the years have taken. She's done ok, it seems, having celebrated, surrendered to, then survived the pleasures her new home in LA has to offer.

Big audience favorite was the 'screamo' version of High-School Confidential, her signature song, or albatross, depending on the day, I guess. A world-class pop tune, a aural painting you can visualize without effort. Great lyrics, great delivery. When Carole is finally resting in the tower of song alongside a coughing Hank Williams, a self-deprecatory Leonard Cohen and a medicinally-clean Marianne Faithful, she will be required to play this tune. Hope I'm passing by when she does.

The wonderful 'All Touch/No Contact', which was re-recorded for Transcend was also well received. This song is a classic. As good as anything Cole Porter or Bob Dylan ever wrote, or Elvis ever performed. OK, so I'm prone to hyperbole, it's still great shit. A fusion of tight lyrics and a hot, passionate delivery. I don't think the true genius of this song can be conveyed in words but I'm gonna give it a spin, 'cause words I got.

Three verses, one repeated twice and one slightly shorter than the other two.
The bridge is repeated twice.
Pretty simple, eh? The best ones always are on the surface until you unravel them.

First off, the title: All Touch and No Contact. That's a book all by itself. It plays into the relationships explored in the song and dances around one of the similies. It could be about a marriage 20 years in. It could be about a quick meeting behind the door of the mens room stall.

First verse deals with the girl-girl tryst.
Our protaganist is pushing the face of her love interest away. Carole punches out the words, letting us know who's in charge, if not who's on top. "I pushed, her tense face, away from me./ I pushed her tense face away from me." Same words, subtle difference in the phrasing. The first time she says it the statement is declaratory. The second time it's a narrative description of something that has happened. Something that's happened in a brief instant, while deep in the throes of a passionate embrace, or just breaking from one, perhaps. Has our hero been rejected?
Or disappointed? Or has she seen herself in a mirror? Her partner lays there, with "the hard smile, the voice going on/ like a razor blade on glass." Ouch! That is cold. It seems our anti-diva has bedded her worst nightmare, Paris Hilton. There is a breathless pause between the short laundry list. 'smile' and 'voice', all mouth. That 'razor blade on glass' is just pure magic. Besides being a great methaphor describing the hard, cutting, coldness of the distant or self-absorbed love interest, it also hints of the devil behind the emotions, that other partner of razor blades and glass, cocaine.
After the title line we get the awakening... "it hit me like a slap, all touch and no contact."

The second verse visits a boy-girl hook up. From the outset we see something different in the dynamics of the relationship. "I pushed, his hands, away from me." Guys are always so tactile, eh? Wouldn't be caught dead staring into anybody's face but are ever ready to grope. This tryst seems fueld by booze as all that remains are "splintering fragments of conversation". Or perhaps that's all the guys are capable of delivering. The awakening here is "like a knife in the back". Less intimate than a slap, but definitely more of a 'deal breaker'.

The repeated bridge seems to belong with this verse, sounds like it may have been the denouement of the evening: "Tense my body for the final attack/ All touch, no contact." That's one sad vision of love.

One floating verse, really a precursor to the other two, describes how this mess all gets started as the singer takes us back to early in the evening when she saw "challenging eyes over the edge of a cocktail glass/ hoping i'd react." Or maybe it's the night after, when the same scene gets played out.

As words on the page the song is pretty strong. When performed it's a monster.

Two other points of high interest, besides the excellent quality of the performances of Weapons, was the outing for "Americana" in the first set and Birds of A Feather in the late set. "Americana" is right up there with some of the best descriptive narratives of life in modern, post 9/11 America I've heard this year. That includes Neil Young doing "Living With War", Peaches doing "Impeach My Bush", Billy Bragg singing a new version of "Waiting For the Great Leap Forward" and Randy Newman sardonically poking a stick at the "Great Nations of Europe."
"Birds of A Feather" to close the night was a short and special treat. Ain't nothing like being surrounded my like-minded people and celebrating it.

Billy BraggMusic Hall Toronto ON2006-09-24

Billy Bragg passed through Toronto last week during a “retrospective” tour to flaunt his new box sets and a book. One year shy of 50 he hasn’t lost his love for the underdog or his spite for the entitled and empowered. He has mellowed though. A little embarrassed by the support he put behind Tony Blair, who he calls ‘George Bushs’ poodle’, he still insists it’s more important to be active with the activists than sleep in with the sleepers. A more mature Billy accepts you have to work with the tools you have and worse than being a Conservative, worse than being a Capitalist, worse than being a member of the BNP (strike that, there’s not much worse than that), is being a cynic. ‘Cause cynics have lost their faith in the innate goodness of man and it’s hard to improve your lot if that’s your attitude. Actually, looking back at that, Billy’s not only mellowed, he’s slipped into a coma. Much less bitter than you might think, he’s really a ‘happy-go-lucky’ bloke who just feels compelled to point out the social inequities.

Billy’s rich now. Has a big house on the water. Motorized vehicles. Doesn’t have to work for a living. All these things can now be slung back at him in an attempt to ignore the message while smearing the messenger. It’s a trap the right uses to shut up those who may have some power from speaking out for those who have none. I mean if middle-class whites from the North didn’t make such a big stink about apartheid in the Southern US would the advances made in the 1950’s and 1960’s have been achieved? Give him credit for this: he still lives in the UK, unlike the Strolling Bones and other megastars who have fled to a tax-haven in Europe or on some Island off the coast of France.

In the tradition of Woody Guthriehe is one of the few remaining troubadours. This tour sees him standing center stage with his guitar and two amps. Most of the show is electric, all except the first encore where some Guthrie songs and a Leadbelly rewrite are done acoustic.

The tour has had stops in Halifax, Ottawa and Montreal as Billy goes west. He had some stories to relate about those shows, noting it was a good time to be in Halifax with a British accent and a guitar, one week before the Rolling Stones were set to entertain 60,000 fans. Free beer and ticket requests from everyone. In Ottawa he knew he’d have a good time ‘cause there’s nothing looser than a civil servant on a weekend break from a mind-numbing and soul-sucking job working for the man. (I paraphrase.) The fans in Montreal were…well, if you don’t think Quebec is a ‘distinct’ society, you haven’t visited. They still smoke in church there. Little ashtrays in the confessional. To honour their uniqueness Billy played the entire Life’s a Riot w/ Spy V Spy EP in the second encore.

There’s an opening act. Some kid called Seth Lakemanwho has a fiddle and a little guitar. Four songs, maybe five. He was 20 minutes late taking the stage. Don’t think his set lasted that long. Didn’t suck though. Kind of like a sober Ashley MacIsaac in pants. Real east-coast, Celtic feel to his songs.

Billy is a tad late coming on, for reasons he’ll explain later. Off the top he reaches all the way back to his first EP from 1983, to gives us the wonderful ‘To Have and To Have Not’. A cautionary tale about the clampdown. A familiar story of closed doors and a rite of passage for all young males and females. Next to the unlimited potential of a newborn babe there is nothing more overrated than a university degree. Especially in a society that judges the outside before they evaluate the inside. Just a slight hint of the difficulties to be faced by generations of youth: where have all the good jobs gone? (“The factories are closing..”)

Fearing the ‘jobs’ part of the previous message may have been too hard to suss out Billy follows up with a no-brainer. NPWA (No Power Without Accountability) opens with the bleak landscape of missing jobs and cheap, exploitable labour in third world markets. It’s a song from 2001 and 18 years later the corpocracy is still the root of the problem. It’s a monster song, covering everything from downsizing, job security in the global market, the IMf and it’s corporate based tax policies (I mean shouldn’t Mexico be trying to raise taxes until they at least have SOME public services?), and the placebo we call “one man-one vote”, democracy.

Chat time, and we get more than a few of these. Normally I’m not big on between song talk. John Prine I can take. Ray Davies should shut up and play the songs. Enjoyed Buck 65’s chatter this summer. Leonard Cohen…more songs. Billy Bragg is a wonder to behold when he goes off on a ‘rant’. Lot’s of self-effacing comedy, empathy for others and some biting sarcasm. He’s a captivating speaker, even if you have to listen carefully to separate the accent from the words. He does play the “hello Cleveland” card a bit, some of the stage patter is orchestrated, meant to receive a cheap cheer. “Rowdy fuckers for a Sunday night!” would seem, on the surface, to be an acknowledgement of an enthusiastic crowd on a night normally reserved for prayers and cross-dressing. Except he gave the same ‘hey-o’ to the Friday night crowd in Ottawa. Not sure why, there’s nothing particularly surprising about rowdy Friday nighters. Give the man a break though, he’s gonna be up there for two hours, he has to bring something scripted. He tells the crowd there’s no sense in doing that ‘slow clap’ thing to make the artist come out faster since his pre-show ritual involves not drugs or meditation, but a good shit. No amount of clapping is going to make him hurry.

Into the ‘time capsule’ and exit in 1983. A Lover Sings, another cautionary tale about shooting your wad too early. I don’t know who Teresa and Steve are but they’d best stay away from the apple tree. In the words of Bruce Springsteen, “love’s like that, sure it is.” Underneath the tale of love gone out the window there is some excellent detail, amazing what stays with you forever. How it’s the small things you remember when the big thing blows up.

While tuning his lone guitar so he can play it sweet, Billy regales us with more opinions about global warming and possibility of polar bears tramping right down Yonge St to the heart of Toronto. A piece on the current Liberal leadership race where a neo-con in sheep’s clothing is trying to usurp the mantle. (He’s up against a silk-stocking Socialist trying to steal power from the other side of the spectrum. I’m hoping for a long bloody battle, not caring who wins.) Gotta love this about Billy, he may succumb to the odd industry trick to get a cheer but he absolutely respects the cultures he visits and does his best to be somewhat conversant on local issues. He speaks a bit about his book and the fear of being labeled an “intellectual”. A label not likely to stick. He’s nowhere near stuffy enough to be a Brit, never mind an intellectual.

Back farther into the time machine, back to the late 1500’s for a medley of John Barleycorn, an old English folk ballad that was revised as late as Robert Burns’ 1782 poem, and Billy’s own English, Half-English. This song speaks to the new book that addresses “Englishness” and what it means. It’s a cultural war being fought in the UK, it’s been fought for hundreds of years. Seems like the Welsh, Irish and Scots may prevail in the short-run, though the wave of immigration is relentless and what you see in the big cities now will soon enough be seen in the rural communities in time. It’s neither good, nor bad. It is just a fact of life on this little blue ball on which we live. What is required though, is a less homogeneity and a little more tolerance for others. During the introduction he tells us his first sense of being "English" came when he heard two Jewish kids from New York sing a song about Scarborough Fair. He's a closet S&G fan! By songs end he’s totally deconstructed English society, by halves, right down to their Lebanese patron saint, George and his three lions.

St George gets Billy off on a long ramble about patron saints, multiple jobs and hockey. You’d have to hear it to believe it. Suffice it to say lions are more impressive than carrots and who wouldn’t kill to be the patron saint of Barcelona?

He introduces a new song, Farm Boy, noting it’s debut in Montreal, where he figured himself safe ‘cause they were less likely to understand the words. Evocative of Dylan’s John Brown in that the soldier sees himself in his enemy, just another farmer. It’s a song about a boy sent to do a company’s job and the longing for the only thing that matters…a home to go back to.

Like Soldiers Do speaks to the seemingly never-ending cycle of war associated with empire. I’m not crystal clear on the references but my ‘best guess’ is the line about “advance(ing) across poppy fields” might refer to the Warizistan War of 1936 between England and Afghanistan. Some babies never learn, eh? This song was written in 1983, I think Billy would be amused at his prescience. Well, maybe ‘amused’ isn’t the right word.

Roadie brings out a second cup of tea for Billy and he finds himself lost inside an hilarious story about his previous job as a goat herder. The story gets downright raunchy as we visit the mating habits of the male goat. You see, it’s the goat pheromones that attract the she-goats. It’s the method of application that makes the story salacious. It just gets ruder and funnier until it’s shut down with the admonition to the tapers that they can roll their tapes back to omit that part. Wouldn’t think of it.

Greetings to the New Brunette (Shirley) sees our protagonist locked in an age old battle between the angry young man and choices that have to be made. Growin’ up ain’t easy, impressing parents even more difficult but there’s nothing like talkin’ about babies to take the romance out of a post-pubescent poke.

Bragg takes the opportunity to lay an obsequious greeting on the city, claiming it’s a ‘home away from home’ for his crew. It’s made somewhat less so by the news he has family here. The next song is dedicated to Uncle Jesse. From 1991’s Don’t Try This at Home we get a childs POV on death. Lovely light little ditty.

Upfield, released in 1996 backed by ‘Thatcherites’, is as close as you’ll ever come to seeing a ‘reborn socialist’. A tug of will between a doubting pagan and some angels. I got no freakin’ idea what this is about. Nice song though, jaunty melody.

A pretty talkative Bragg moves into another ramble, starting with a story about his March trip to SXSW and the laryngitis that struck him as they headed towards Minneapolis. His manager, in an attempt to console him, assures Billy “no one comes to hear you sing.” He got through those dates with the help of his back up band, The Blokes and his hand puppet. Even found himself sans guitar in Chicago, free to express himself through the medium of dance. A failed experiment it seems. This rant falls prey to the ever-present goat jokes and Billy flings the little toy off stage, hoping to excise the demons. It was futile.

He moves into his “Johnny Clash” rap before delivering what can be called Pinball Prison Blues or Folsom Wizard. Roadie is out to switch the guitar over to his ‘Clash’ amp and we get a song in progress with the working title “Old Clash Fan’s Fight Song”. Some fun stuff.

Another talk that champions the democratic success of the new medium, high-speed internet, that gives us more entertainment in swinging cats on YouTube than network television can deliver. Bragg seems to take some pleasure in the fact bands are spending hundreds of thousands of dollars on their music videos only to see them pirated in a blurry mpeg. We’ve spent the last couple days watching animal videos. Curse you Billy Bragg!

I’m having a great time and I’ve only heard 1 (one) song I know, To Have and To Have Not. No shit. I mean I like Billy, always did, right from the outset, but I’ve only got so much appetite for thinking. Saw him in 1993 (I think) at the Ontario Place Forum and thoroughly enjoyed that show. I’m back here tonight because I know it’s gonna be great entertainment value for the dollar. Can’t wait for the encores.

The Saturday Boy is another great tune about that time of life few men can leave behind…the foggy years in their teens when they didn’t know what was happenin’ or why. Some great lyrics in here: “’cause she lied to me with her body you see/ I lied to myself about the chances I’d wasted” and “in the end it took me a dictionary/ to find the meaning of unrequited.” Heavy emotions directed at a girl too young to shave her legs.

Billy turns a slam against James Blunt (“our revenge for Lenny Kravitz”) into a promotional piece for his book and a sermon on not becoming cynical. He follows with another new song, I Keep Faith, a testament to his belief that cynicism can be defeated. It’s a kinder, gentler, Billy.

Now we’re back to 1649 for the story of the True Levellers, or the Diggers. Socialists well before their time and the most extreme amongst their kind. A history lesson in song. Still, sad how nobody’s learning anything.

Ontario, Quebec and Me is a little nod of appreciation to this wonderful part of the world we’re lucky enough to live in, and the good times he’s had.

Familiar chords of the second song I know, Waiting for the Great Leap Forward, are welcome but not really necessary. What is unwelcome, and unnecessary, is the artless alterations made to the song. It’s a cheap laugh tossing in Rumsfeld’s name. You’re preaching to the choir here, they can make the connection themselves. It’s good for a giggle but not much more, there’s been plenty of fun all across the comedy spectrum tonight and more still to come. I wouldn’t give those f*cks the pleasure of being inside a work as good as “Leap Forward”. To all the PNACians, get offa my cloud.
Still, I love this song and we do get a number of straight verses, enough to redeem it.

REVISED opinion on Leap Forward. After listening to this again in the car I realize this version was a master stroke. Bragg managed to incorporate a number of jokes from this evenings show as well as some references to his own wealth, his aging and even Canadian Idol. A final coup de grace was the inclusion of “bombed back to the Stone Age”, a news item that only came to light in the days preceeding this concert. He was referencing the Prime Minister of Pakistan relating this threat almost at the same time it was airing on CBS’ 60 Minutes. At the risk of abrogating the ‘fair usage’ copyright rule let me transcribe the lyrics here:

It may have been Camelot for Jack and Jacqueline (John & Jackie Kennedy)
But on the Che Guevara highway filling up with gasoline
Little Donald Rumsfeld spies a rich lady who's crying
Over luxury's disappointment, so he walks over and he's trying
To sympathise with her but he thinks that he should warn her
To be prepared to be bombed back into the Stone Age
(Ya, how’s that touch you? Ya fancy that? Maybe back into the Ice Age even. Who knows.)

In the former Soviet Union the citizens demand
As to why they are still the target of Strategic Air Command?
And they shake their fists in anger and respectfully suggest
We take the money from our missiles and spend it on our hospitals instead.

Mixing Pop and Politics thye ask me what the use is
I offer them my acupuncturists and my masseusses
While looking down the corridor
Out to where my ego is waiting
I'm looking for the New World Order
(You know where Canada is in the New World Order?
Just behind Great Britain right up the asshole of the United States of America)

Jumble sales are organized, all my mates have got fat
Even after all this time you can still swing round a cat
You can be active with the activists
Or sleep in with the media
While you're waiting for the Great Leap Forwards

Oh, one leap forward, two leaps back
Will YouTube give MTV the sack ?
Waiting for the Great Leap Forwards

Well here comes the future and you can't run from it
If you've got a wesite I want to be on it
Can I be your friend? Can I say it with a smiley? Ya

In a perfect world we'd all sing in tune
But this is reality not fucking Canadian Pop Idol
Waiting for the Great Leap Forwards, ya

It's a mighty long way down rock 'n roll
From Top of the Pops to diggin’ a hole
You're Waiting for the Great Leap Forwards

So join the struggle while you may
The Revolution is just an ethical haircut away
When you’re waiting for the Great Leap Forwards

Is that some fun, or what?

The acoustic encore is an homage to Woody Guthrie and Leadbelly, two giants upon whose shoulders Bragg is proud to stand. First Guthrie song is the story of Hans Eisler, German composer who told the HUAC to go fuck themselves. Got deported for it. The song address whether Woody would stand, sit or run. Good campfire tune though. The second Guthrie song is a dark tale of failing farms and little hope, Black Wind Blowing. A dust-bowl song about how funny a man feels when all he knows is hanging by a thread. Ummm, time to lighten up perhaps?

Toilet paper jokes and slide guitars oughta do it. Billy has stolen the melody from Leadbelly’s Bourgeois Blues and come up with another topical song, Bush War Blues. This is more Phil Ochs than Bob Dylan but it’s much preferred to altering cherished lyrics to no advantage.

For the second encore we’re back to electric and back to the first EP. I’d told the wife it was unlikely we’d hear The Milkman of Human Kindness and it was kind of like whistling in the dark…a preemptive strike against disappointment. Something about this simple song that just pulls you in, the sentiment perhaps, the melody for sure and that voice just right for this plaintive wail. What a treat.

Sexuality falls prey to another goat joke, we get the ‘beastiality’ version. Not totally marred though Billy does say “I ruined it didn’t I?” before he finds his way back on track. No matter, this is a smile inducer in any shape or form.

Show closes with an extended audience sing-a-long to A New England. And the audience was very good. I usually rate ‘sing-a-longs’ right next to ‘clapping’ and ‘shouted requests’ on the list of silly things that happen at concerts but it worked well tonight. Billy helped them along with a few guitar queues but they were never shy about taking the song over. We get enough verses from the artist we paid to see, plus a new verse, making this another treat at the end of a superb evenings entertainment. Billy shouts out "We're going to do a verse for Kirsty MacColl!" before injecting the two verses she added to the song on her recording:

"My dreams were full of strange ideas
My mind was set despite your fears
But other things got in the way
I never asked that boy to stay

Once upon a time at home
I sat beside the telephone
Waiting for someone to pull me through
When at last it didn't ring I knew it wasn't you"

Kinda makes a full evening of it. Thank you Billy Bragg, looking forward to the next trip through and whatever incarnation you bring.

Artifacts of the Past: Charlatans UK, Buzzcocks and Bauhaus a few more thoughts on last months shows

had the opportunity to see three '80's era's band (ok, maybe late '70's) over the past month. two of them came through town as headliners, the other opening for a band they spawned. each one offered something a little different.
so the question is: can you repeat the past?

well, you can, but some shouldn't try. the Charlatans UK (Monday May 22, 2006 Phoenix Concert Theater) put on a decent show that could have been great but ended up being mildly disappointing. the songs were all there, the sound was fine, but the lead singer seemed narcissistically detached. if the spotlight wasn't on him he was like rainman, just babbling away with the crowd and dancing spasmodically, seemingly unaware there was a concert going on about him. his 'rock star' gesticulations were more reminiscent of mick jagger with parkinsons (is that an oxymoron?)or that 'pretty fly, white guy' from the Offspring video.

of course that may have just been me. I was only tangenitally aware of the Charlatans when they were active. i'm paying homage more to the era than the band by being here tonight. in that way perhaps I am the artifact. as for the stage affectations, my interpretation may even be out of context if the band is playing the part of their name. that would be way cool as a schtick. maybe I missed the macro joke. wouldn't be the first time.

Rating: 6/10. nice venue, good sound, just missing a little heart.

which brings us to the Buzzcocks (Saturday June 10, 2006 Phoenix Concert Theater)who definitely weren't lacking anything in the attitude department.

i reviewed our evening with them farther down this blog and mention them here to juxtapose them against the other two bands. this band seemed happy just to be on the road and have someone show up. no sense we were obligated to be anything to them (in terms of deferential or reverential), just be there sweating with the boys. biggest surprise of the night was that their new songs sounded like their old songs, which was a good thing. Rating: 8/10


bauhaus (Saturday June 24, 2006 Molson Amphitheater) may have had age working against them but at least fashion didn't leave them behind...too far behind that is. there was an aura about this whole appearance, opening for a band that copped their attitude to a large degree. seeing them on stage, with the 'black and dark' motif, dry ice factory working behind them, everything brought into focus with blinding white spotlights, you could see where the likes of NIN and Manson got their stage shows.

visual highlight of the evening was lead singer Peter Murphy standing on a bank of amplifiers, white shirt billowing in the strong wind as dry ice gave the stage an 1880's London feel. Peter bends from the waist, his black pants and boots invisible against the stage backdrop, and seems to be floating, or suspended, arms waving, disembodied, like Jonathan Livingston Seagull heading for a cliff. this exact move was replicated by Trent during his set with NIN. can't tell if it was a passing of the torch or a kiss-off.
biggest disappointment of the night was not getting our share of their monster songs (they cut out Transmission, Telegram Sam and Bela Lugosi's Dead). a disservice to their meagre fanbase. these were dropped when the opening slot cut down on their stage time by a half hour. they did throw us a bone with a decent version of Ziggy Stardust to close the show. early in the set we had "She's At Parties", but overall it was light on the hits, such as they were. bauhaus' new songs also sounded like their old songs but unlike the Buzzcocks, that wasn't great news. they are heavy, turgid songs. it takes time to break past the overbearing sense of despair to find any hook to hang your hat on. at least with Bela Lugosi's Dead, I've had a couple decades to wade through the murkiness. Rating: 6/10


next up: Wilco and Whale Watching
coming in August: Raconteurs, Rock n Roll Hall of Fame, Jonny Lang and Robert Gordon.
coming in September: Bob Dylan (?), Virgin Fest w/ Raconteurs, and more Raconteurs.
coming in October: John Otway from NYC
coming in November: ?
coming in December: Levon Helm Ramble

Arctic Monkeys 2006-06-17 It Was A Hot Night At the Kool Haus With the Chilly Chimps

the Arctic Monkeys came back through town last night. they've been all around the world since Mike and I caught them at the Phoenix in March. burned out their bass player who stayed home in England for this tour. fatigue or something.

but that's ok, because these guys are what this bands about.














love the ring of the guitars in all these songs. reminiscent of the best of Brit-pop through the years from the Jam through to the Clash. not that they have the weight of either of those two bands...yet.

one album and a few singles...20 great songs and counting.

















summer's arrived a few days early as the humidex breaks the 40 degree c. mark and the temperature is hovering in the low 30's as doors open. my son Michael is joining Cece and I for the show. We Are Scientists is opening, which means nothing to me, but taped 'em anyway. in case they get famous. a very energetic and polished opening set. good on the Arctic Monkeys for not being afraid to have a real band support them. the Monkeys came on stage during two songs to lend support on vocals, drums and guitars, in celebration of this tour-ending gig as this is the 13th show of a 13 show North American Tour. the band moves on to Germany for some gigs and World Cup games next week. WAS continue on their solo tour in the US.


got a good spot right underneath the right stax, about 10' from the stage. it's loud. bone-rattling loud. just perfect. during the first set everyone was polite and kept their distance, giving me ample opportunity to focus in on a band ready to breakout. We Are Scientists are tough to catalogue. a three-piece, straight-ahead, rock ensemble, with a garage-band attitude and alt-rock sensibilities. the kids are learing fast these days as their stage-patter and between song fiddling was finished beyond their years. good pace to the short opening set. 40 minutes of blood stirring preparation for the main act. their set is torrenting at dime
WAS torrent

did i mention it was hot? after a short half-hour break the lights are down and the Monkeys take the stage.








this is the Riot Van tour, i guess. i don't think it was played live on the last NA tour but it seems to be opening the shows on this go-round. the band is into the low-key number quickly and the audience sing-a-long is not far behind. these guys may not have a lot of fans yet but the one's they've got have internet access...'cause lyrics and song sequences are not foreign to anyone out here.

song closes with a kick in the head and the same sensation ensues as the band slams into View From the Afternoon, a song about anticipation of what the evening might bring...or not. he shoulda brought his bird though, 'cause those phone-mail-mea culpa's don't always cut it. we'll get the answer to this song a little later, in a couple forms.

a little nod to the cynical rock star and the candy they get in Still Take You Home. these guys write a ton of great little couplets, cutting, consice and crystal clear in meaning. they don't sneak up on you as much as they pounce on you and do a Muhammed Ali on your head. this one opens with a beauty:
"It’s ever so funny, I don’t think you’re special I don’t think you’re cool
You’re just probably alright, but under these lights you look beautiful"


next up the boys are out of their league with the upwardly mobile Cigarette Smoker Fiona.

on the surface it might seem the Monkeys are not to everyone's taste. their subject matter deals with the trials and tribulations of the 'coming of age' male...anywhere from 17 through to 22 years old...which pretty well covers their current cognitive state. delve deeper, these songs are filled with universal truths. astute observations on the human condition for such young men. their material should appeal to anyone who has been, will be or is a young man. and any women who might want to try to figure out what they're about. it's not a wasted lesson, most males are mired in their early 20's...at least in their own minds, if not real life.

crowd favorite in Vampires. a slap at the other bands in their local scene who'd rather drage them down into the hole they are in, than wish them success.
without a break they leap into a wonderful party song, Dancing Shoes. a story about wallflowers and how that don't lead to no good.

before they've even released their second album the Monkeys are targeting the inevitable backlash that will follow the unwarranted (and unasked for) hype. it's the star-making machinery that picks you, you don't pick it. Who the Fucks Arctic Monkeys? tells us they know we'll be asking the question as soon as the industry gets its claws into them.

did i mention it was hot? between songs the lead guitarist takes a towel to his frets and comes up with a new sound.

i want to be at the first concert where they don't play, I Bet That You Look Good On the Dancefloor. still getting radio airplay it's already an albatross. fans liked it though.

a whole song about jumping the queue, to no avail, in the simply enjoyable Red Light Indicates Doors Are Secured. a total throw-away piece of smile inducing fluff. at breakneck speed. just like heaven.

the boys always have another story to tell us, that's what their catalogue is currently about...stuff that happened to me one night, one time, one minute. From Ritz to the Rubble is the story of how precarious favour can be...and how hard to come by for a skinny 19 year old geek. they have so much to say that they added a second song inside this one. what started out as an episode in line evolves into a drunken free-for-all and party night to be forgotten...the next day. ever wake up wondering what the f*ck you were thinking the night before?

a non-album song, Leave Before the Lights Come On leads us into the wonderfully sardonic, painfully honest tale of passion gone stale, Mardy Bum. funny to see a 20 year old longing for how things used to be. at least that's what he thinks is happening. the reason she 'has that face on', the reason she's so 'argumentative', is that she's probably growing up and just realizing the task she has ahead of her, molding this Nintendo-playing-fast-food-eating-party-till-you-puke boyfriend into something she can make use of.

lead singer tells us we have three songs left...if they played another 3 that would pretty well be everything they have, but they gotta leave you wanting something. tonight we're left wanting Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts because the show ends with the epic every-fathers-nightmare When the Sun Goes Down, a story about a young girl down on her luck and the scummy men that make her life even worse.
We Are Scientists lead singer/guitarist comes on to play the rhythm on Fake Tales of San Francisco, a final tip of the hat to a rousing opening band and tour partner.
show closes with the usual ringing guitars of A Certain Romance.











time well wasted.
the torrent should be running over at dime

Buzzcocks 30th Anniversary Tour Phoenix Concert Theatre Toronto ON 2006-06-10

some things change...
no Howard Devoto in this incarnation of the Buzzcocks but we do have Pete Shelley and Steve Diggle, both providing vocals and guitars. they are supported by long-time bassist Tony Barber and former Alarm drummer Danny Farrant, who just signed on.
they came straight out of Manchester to join the british punk movement, opening for the Pistols back in the summer of '76. after a couple of rebirths they are still using up their 'cat-lives' and are back in the midst of a recent brit-pop-punk revival that has seen the Charlatans UK and 999 back on the road.
shelley hasn't gotten any taller, just a little wider...but haven't we all.
diggle looks like a blown-up version of peewee herman in his polka-dot shirt, white vest with busting buttons and white pants. from the balcony the tops of their heads throw off a nice glow. i say that lovingly 'cause they both had playful smiles on throughout the night, perhaps enjoying the experience more than they did 30 years ago.

some things don't...
who needs more than a 3 minute, power-pop song? they showcased their new release, flat-pack philosophy, in a machine-gun, take-no-breaths, 60 minute set. diggle provides the hard-core edge; shelley the melodic pop hooks. think of it like a collaboration between lennon/mccartney or richards/jagger or white/benson if you must.

the show was the debut of the their North American leg, a showcase spot in the North-by-North-East festival. they continue of from here to headline 13 Warped Tour dates and add a dozen or so solo shows. check out the tour schedule at their website... that would be www.buzzcocks.com for the google challenged.

they were well received at the croweded, sold-out Phoenix. as appreciative as the crowd was I don't think anyone was happier than Diggle who spent the night throwing out sizzling guitar flourishes and trying his best not to damage his knees with assorted jumps. shelley stayed earthbound but didn't give any ground when it came to cutting some nice solo's of his own. Diggle spent a couple minutes glad-handing with the front row, reluctant to leave the stage as the feedback faded and the rest of the band hit the post-show spread.

the new songs are as good as the old songs. there are three mp3 samples in each of these files. sample one contains: wish i never loved you, soul survivor and why can't i touch it? sample two contains: ever fallen in love with someone (you shouldn't have fallen in love with),noise annoys and orgasm addict
Sample 1
Sample 2

Artist Spotlight #3: The Clash: The Only Band That Matters

before you get started reading begin this download of
Clash Samples



1977-05-13 Leicester UK
I'm So Bored With the USA
1980-03-05 Passaic NJ
Train in Vain
1982-06-04 Bonds Casino
Charlie Don't Surf
Clampdown
1982-11-27 Jamaica
London Calling
Bankrobber
from Tommy Gun Japan/London 1982
Should I Stay Or Should I Go
Joe Strummer & the Mescalaro's w/ guest Mick Jones
Rudie Can't Fail


















isn't that the best album cover ever? first
the band broke through after opening for the Sex Pistols on their Anarchy in the UK Tour. British CBS records signed them in February 1977.
recognize any of the fans in this picture?


















i first saw them at the last show of the Pearl Harbor Tour of America in February 1979. they were getting a lot of airplay on a local alternative radio station and a friend dragged me to the show. concert was held in an old movie theater, used to be an Odeon but was called the Rex by 1979. only concert held there as it became to expensive to replace the chairs.
don't recall a ton about the show, except that while standing in the lobby it occured to me that 'punk' was the best thing that ever happened to the less aestically pleasing among us. you'd have had better luck finding an 'in tune' guitar than a nice looking chick. fortunately, there was one of each in the building. the guitar was on stage and the chick was seated next to me in the balcony. (not that it mattered, 'cause i was getting married in May but it's always nice to have a room with a view).
by the shows ends the Clash were no longer in charge of the stage as it had been rushed and the final song was done by audience members and Joe.














here's a much more detailed review of that show, stolen from the 'net:

"Joe is very talkative throughout, apologising for the poor sound early on and at the start of the encore says “We wanna kinda apologise, we arrived in Canada about 2 weeks ago feeling full of beans, now we’ve had it if you know what I’m trying to say”. But if The Clash were worn out at the end of the tour there is no sign of it here: its highly charged and intense throughout.

Joe wins the audience over after Bored with The USA, the storming set opener, “Turn on the house lights, listen who’s the promoter? Calling Mike Cole, listen you big guys, you’re never gonna stop them dancing, they just wanna stand there and dance”. He then tells the bouncers “you’ve gotta watch for anyone going down” How many Toronto audiences had heard a band say that to the security before?

The PA sound problems improve during Tommy Gun, which Joe introduces with “ This is Topper, Britain’s answer to Bruce Lee!” To requests for White Riot Joe jokes, “that’s an old song, so Bing Crosby still has fans even in Toronto! There’s a tape change before Stay Free, which loses some of Mick’s introduction.

Capital Radio is preceded by “This is what (Toronto Radio) Q107 sounds like, just a farting noise all day, so this song is now entitled thank you Radio Q107, we are your mindless robots”.

The encore cranks up the intensity even higher and White Riot breaks down halfway through after a stage invasion. Fans shout out the chorus, and then someone grabs the microphone and screams “God Save The Queen!” The taper or someone nearby says “unbelievable” as the crowd shout for me.

The house lights come on and the recording ends with the first bars of a song that would inspire The Clash to record one of the best cuts on London Calling; Vince Taylor’s Brand New Cadillac."






















and here's a piece by Alan Cross who is the author of CFNY's great History of New Music:


"Joe Strummer was once asked about his greatest musical inspirations and his answer was simple: "black men," he said. And he was serious. The Clash would soon pick unlikely touring partners, including Bo Diddley and Grandmaster Flash.
The attitude in that song requires a little explanation. The middle and late 70s were a tough time for young people in Britain. The country's finances were in trouble, so the labour government of the time had invoked some severe austerity measures. These measures hit the working classes very hard. Public sector and government workers were hit, too. Wages, benefits, working conditions, they all took a hit. Naturally, this created some serious social turmoil. Strikes and lockouts. High unemployment. Falling standards of living. And a general sense of despair and alienation, especially among young people. There was that institutional racism we talked about earlier. Some authorities were being quite enthusiastic when it came to using an anti-vagrancy law from 1824 to harass young blacks.

And there were fascist elements creeping in from the margins. Organizations such as the national front were looking for scapegoats for the problems faced by the white working class. Their targets? Immigrants. This was the social environment into which The Clash was introduced.

The band did what they could. They insisted that the price of their albums and their concert tickets be substantially lower than the prevailing rate. And they sung about the problems of the day. To bored and alienated kids in Margaret Thatcher's England, The Clash seemed to be in touch with exactly how they were feeling. Another interesting thing about that first album: even though the band had a planet-wide record deal, CBS decided not to release this record in North America. It was the disco era and a bunch of fraidy-cat executives thought that The Clash was just too raw and abrasive and too crude for American tastes. So for two years, north American fans were forced to buy the higher-priced British import version. 100,000 copies were sold that way, making it (for a time) the biggest-selling import ever. CBS finally relented in 1979, but the result was a watered-down version with a different tracklisting that was supposed designed for American tastes, whatever that meant.

Then again, The Clash did have a rep as criminals. Their shows often turned violent and venues were damaged. On June 10, 1977, Joe and topper were arrested for spray-painting "The Clash" on a wall. Then they were fined $100 for stealing a pillowcase from a Holiday Inn. And then they were fined $800 for shooting at some expensive racing pigeons. And Mick Jones got into trouble over cocaine possession.

The second Clash album was entitled "Give 'Em Enough Rope" and was issued on November 10, 1978. One of the surprising things about this record was that it was produced by the guy who was best known for making Records with Blue Oyster Cult. That, obviously, rubbed a few hardcore punks the wrong way.

The album sounded different, too. The amateurish energy that was all over the first album was gone. Things were a little more polished and cleaner. Still, the record burns with righteous anger and is filled with new musical options for punk. Joe Strummer's lyrics covered everything from civil war to the drug trade to Palestinian terrorism. Love songs? Forget it. This idealistic, left-leaning stance was refreshing, but it no doubt limited the band's appeal with a wider audience.

But The Clash didn't care. They had to do what they felt was right. Here, for example, is a song based on an experience the band had in Jamaica while staying at the pegasus hotel in Kingston. While walking around the docks one night, they had an interesting experience with some rastafarians that they'd rather not repeat.

Here's what Joe Strummer said to rolling stone after the release of Give 'Em Enough Rope:

"We've got loads of contradictions for you. We're trying to do something new; we're trying to be the greatest group in the world, and that also means the biggest. At the same time, we're trying to be radical? I mean, we never want to be really respectable? And maybe the two can't coexist, but we'll try. You know what helps us? We're totally suspicious of anyone who comes in contact with us. Totally. We aim to keep punk alive."

Things would change drastically for The Clash with the next album. It would the record that would not only assure The Clash's reputation for all time, but it would also become one of the most influential Records of all time. And Joe Strummer was, obviously, a huge part of it. By the time The Clash got around to recording their third album, The Clash's tastes had moved beyond the traditional punk boundaries. Ska, reggae, calypso, disco, garage rock, rockabilly, even this new thing called "rap", were all poached to help create a unique Clash sound. The band reached their creative peak in 1979 with a double record that featured nineteen songs, some of which were inspired by a recent north American tour while others came about just by listening to the music in the streets of their new headquarters in the Pimlico area of London.

The album also followed Britain's famous "winter of discontent". From late 1978 through to mid-1979, the country was paralysed by a serious of massive strikes and labour actions. It was so bad that the army had to be called out to provide scab labour.

On the other hand, the tide had turned against growing racist sentiments. In 1978, The Clash headlined the "rock against racism" concert, which saw 100,000 people march through the streets of London, denouncing racist ideas, movements and policies. That event was a turning point in the attitudes held by young people in the UK. Some of the anger on The Clash's third album was fuelled by their recent split with manager Bernie Rhodes and all the lawsuits (and debt) that followed.

The album was recorded over just a few days. In fact, twelve of the nineteen songs were bashed out over three days in August 1979. The record, which had the working title of the new testament, was produced by Guy Stevens, who was much more concerned with feel than technical perfection. On the first day in the studio, Guy told the band to warm up with a song called "Brand New Cadillac". "Go ahead and warm up," he said. "We'll start in a moment".

But as The Clash started playing, Guy rolled the tape machines. When they were done, he said Aright! That's done. Let's move on to the next one!" The Clash were kind of confused. "You can use that take," they said. "It's all wrong!. Listen to the tempo. Look how we speed up as the we get closer to the end".

Stevens just smiled and said "All rock'n'roll speeds up. Next song, please".


-Alan Cross"














Pearl Harbour Tour of North America 1979

Jan 31 Commodore Ballroom, Vancover, Canada

Feb 7 Berkely Community Centre California

Feb 8 Geary Temple (Fillmore), San Francisco CA

Feb 9 Civic Auditorium, Santa Monica CA

Feb 13 Agora, Cleveland OH

Feb 15 Ontario Theatre, Washington DC

Feb 16 Harvard Square Theater, Cambridge MA

Feb 17 Palladium, New York NY

Feb 19 Agora Atlanta

Feb 20 The Rex Danforth Theatre, Toronto, Canada

Yet more stolen stories of the last night of the Pearl Harbour

"Last night of the Pearl Harbour tour; a highly successful tour both artistically and in terms of establishing a growing reputation and following in the USA.

Pearl Harbour produced some of the best Clash concerts ever, and this was another triumph.

... and onto the Take the 5th tour

On The Take the 5th tour in September/October The Clash would be playing large auditoriums, but this was a converted cinema with the toilet doubling as a dressing room! Strummer recalls, “ The PA sounded like it was filled with hamsters on coke! Even though it sounded rough we really enjoyed it and the crowd stormed the stage at the end. There were just 2 bouncers trying to hold the crowd back”"

Artist Spotlight #2: Sex Pistols 1978 North American Tour...1st show...last show

Jan. 5: Great Southeast Music Hall, Atlanta, Ga...click for DOWNLOAD

Jan. 6: Taliesyn Ballroom, Memphis, Tenn.

Jan. 8: Randy's Rodeo, San Antonio, Texas

Jan. 9: Kingfish Club, Baton Rouge, La.

Jan. 10: Longhorn Ballroom, Dallas, Texas

Jan. 12: Cain's Ballroom, Tulsa, Okla.
Jan. 14: Winterland, San Francisco, Calif...click for DOWNLOAD






















i stole this review of the last show from someone's site

"The Sex Pistols played in front of over 5,000 people at the Winterland Ballroom, more people than at all of their previous American dates put together. The audience was comprised of mostly hippies, with a few hundred punks in front, some of whom threw syringes onstage.
The crowd was again enthusiastic, but the band was tired of performing and sick of each other, barely acknowledging each other's presence onstage. Greil Marcus said the following about the show in Rolling Stone: "The music was all bite: you could reach out and touch every jagged note. It was Steve Jones and Paul Cook who made the noise, and together they were likely the only great two-man band in the history of rock & roll. Spraying the crowd with spit, beer, and mucus, Sid Vicious looked like an English Charlie Starkweather. What was most surprising about Johnny Rotten was his intelligence: intelligence you could read most clearly in his eyes."
The All-Music Guide calls this show a "tuneless, tempoless onslaught," and that sums it up pretty effectively. The Sex Pistols didn't give birth to punk rock, but they pretty much killed it off tonight. Completely wasted, Sid was incoherent and barely able to stand. He opened the show with a couple of Ramones riffs; it turned out to be the best he could offer musically tonight. His playing was so off that it almost tripped up Steve and Paul several times. Steve's guitar cut out several times during the show, and the overall sound was very poor. "If you can put up with that, you can put up with anything," Johnny growled after "Seventeen." Out of nowhere, Steve added, "You f***ing bunch of cowboys!"
In the middle of "Belsen Was a Gas," Johnny let out a scream of horror as if he had just been informed that his mother was the Queen. "Do you want your ears blown out some more?," Johnny asked the crowd. After trudging through the intro to "Bodies," Steve and Paul raced through the song as if their lives depended on it, leaving Sid to senselessly pound his bass strings. During the home stretch of the song, Steve's guitar cut out, leaving Paul to attack his drum kit and Johnny to remark: "I'm not an animal, I'm an abortion," and, asking the audience in total honesty, "What does that make you?"
For the remainder of the show, John stood almost completely still and seemed to despise being on the stage. Throughout "Holidays in the Sun," he blew snot and coughed, and he sang the last half of "Problems" with his arms folded (Sid contributed an amusing moment when he introduced the song: "This is about YOU, it's called 'Problems,'" and fell flat on his back several seconds later). Vicious clutched his bass and seemed ready to hit an audience member again, but roadies took care of the problem before violence erupted. Sitting on the stage looking bored, Johnny said to the crowd, "Tell us, what's it like to have bad taste?" The band stumbled through "Anarchy in the U.S.A." without a bit of spirit, unravelling right in front of the crowd's eyes.
During the encore, "No Fun," John's voice finally gave out. By the end of the song, instead of singing, he sat on the stage, stared into the crowd blankly, and grumbled: "This is no fun, no fun, it is no fun at all, no fun." The band played on, finishing in complete shambles. When the noise ceased, Rotten uttered that famous line, "Ever get the feeling you've been cheated?," said goodnight, and walked offstage. In an instant, the Sex Pistols were over."