Sunday, March 10th, 2024

{ONE} A RAINY NIGHT IN SOHO
Crossing from a Mayfair private view into Soho, I put the airpods in and hit play, and DJ Shadow is thrown up by the randomiser that is Shuffle. It’s “Midnight in a Perfect World” and it is indeed perfect, for this moment, in this imperfect world. I find myself slouching along in time to its wonderful backbeat as I walk through St Anne’s Court to the Elizabeth Line Tottenham Court Road entrance — TfL missed a trick in not calling it TCR [Soho]. Walking in the rain in London at night never loses its appeal.


{TWO} THE RESISTANCE OF POP MUSIC, PT 1
I keep waiting for Pop to Eat Itself, as the most brilliantly named group of the Eighties would have it, but Pop doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, and it’s a driver or important component, in many of the new series and movies on Netflix or Apple or Terrestrial TV. For me, All of Us Strangers has the most evocative use of a single song. Nothing we’ve watched recently was as poignant, melancholy, and controlled as Andrew Haigh’s film. There’s no weakness, and the extraordinary performances of Claire Foy and Jamie Bell are so quiet and nuanced that you catch your breath as their story with their [now] adult son plays out. The film has its theme song, and it’s perfect — the Pet Shop Boys “West End Girls”* with its talk of “too many shadows, whispering voices”, and although it tracks club dancing, its melancholy is worn on its sleeve. And the original video had Tennant’s partner in PSB, Chris Lowe, as a ghostly figure in the street scenes…

* I’d forgotten the verse, “We’ve got no future / we’ve got no past / here today, built to last / In every city, in every nation / from Lake Geneva to the Finland Station.” (The Finland Station in Leningrad is the place where Lenin got off the train on the night of April 3, 1917, to take charge of the Russian revolution), but if anyone’s going to put that in a pure Pop hit it’d be Neil Tennant, no?


{THREE} FILM 2024
I had watched Claire Foy and Andrew Haigh talking about All of Us Strangers (if you’ve seen it, you’ll understand the difficulty) at Mark Kermode’s MK3D show at the BFI on the South Bank. As I had designed the slides for Mark’s show, I’d popped backstage to say hi. It was an interesting Green Room — Claire Foy and Andrew Haigh; Mahalia Belo (director) and Alice Birch (writer, from a novel by Megan Hunter) of The End We Start From, which features an excellent, panicky score by Anna Meredith and a standout performance from Jodie Comer; Jane Giles and Ali Catterall with their film, Scala!!!, about the King’s Cross Cinema and the extraordinarily diverse programming that inspired future generations of filmmakers and musicians; and Jerskin Fendrix, composer of the exceptional Poor Things soundtrack.


{FOUR} THE RESISTANCE OF POP MUSIC, PT 2
Mark Kermode: “Yorgos Lanthimos said he just knew from listening to your album (Winterreise — it came out in 2020, tagged as Indie Pop by Apple Music) that you could do the soundtrack. He said he played the album to Emma Stone and she said that when she heard it, it was like everything exploded, your head exploded into music, which I thought was a fabulous description. But it’s a really big thing to be asked to score a major motion picture straight out the gate. Did you know that you could do it?”
Jerskin: “I spend a lot of time not going to the cinema — I’m sure you might be more familiar with it, but it was an odd mental thing, just being in the studio by myself, already being isolated by lockdown, and thinking everything I’m doing right now is going to end up in a colossal environment in a lot of places in the world. The mental gymnastics of that was sort of impossible…”
Mark: “The score is right at the heart of the film — I think it would be quite easy for the film to be emotionally alienating and I talked to Yorgos and we agreed on this point — what you need is an emotional, visceral reaction. I’m just astonished that it’s your first film. It’s like you were always ready to do this.”
Jerskin: “I think it was very lucky that it was this exact film, this exact project, with this exact director, because my background up until that point had been pop music. I think there’s a level of emotion, and a level of hyper-exaggerated emotion that you can play with in pop song writing, which in most other art forms verges on the cloying.”
Mark: “What was the first pop record you ever bought?”
Jerskin: “The first pop record I remember listening to was The Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle by Bruce Springsteen”.
Mark: “Wow! My first one was Alvin Stardust, “Jealous Mind!”

Jerskin then went on to detail his recent love for Carly Rae Jepson’s album Emotion — “Every song has this incredible core”. I checked — it does have all the elements that are present in Jerskin’s own album, and the Poor Things soundtrack — sparkling synth hooks, woozy atmospherics and all sorts of sounds used as beats and percussion without being drums, as well as on-the-nose pop melodies. I ended up talking to Jerskin after the show about Bruce, The Wild etc… and the song that he feels combined everything he loves about Pop Music in all its unabashed brilliance, “Jungleland” (from Born to Run). We also talked pitch-bending (you’ll know if you’ve seen Poor Things), and I ended by wishing him luck for the Oscars, for which his soundtrack has been nominated. How incredible is that? First Soundtrack, first Oscar Nom…


{FIVE} AND THE OSCAR GOES TO…
For Best Original Soundtrack, I think that the Academy will probably give it to Robbie Robertson for his work over four decades with Martin Scorsese. Killers of the Flower Moon is a really powerful soundtrack, full of bluesy foreboding, deep, rough sonics, heartbeats, and overdriven slide guitar. It also has one final send-off of a song, ”Still Standing”, poignant and moving as sung by an eighty-year-old Robertson, sounding as full of piss and vinegar as he did as a sixteen-year-old sending shards of guitar around Ronnie Hawkins as he sang “Who Do You Love.” [Update: I was wrong, Oppenheimer won, soundtrack by the brilliant Ludwig Göransson.]


{EXTRA} SHOALS’ SOUL
I was reminded of James & Bobby Purify’s wonderful track by a nice interview with Dan Penn in The Guardian this week by my friend Garth Cartwright. “I’m Your Puppet” was the only song cut at Muscle Shoals by James and Bobby (their record label sent them to Moman’s American Studio in Memphis for their follow-up), but I’ve always had a soft spot for the song, mainly for its rolling melody line, sitting atop a lovely chord progression. The Guardian piece was timed to the release of a great album that Dan cut on Bobby Purify in 2005 that is only now seeing the light of day: The Inside Track on Bobby Purify (The Last Music Company). It consists of Dan’s heartfelt demos, followed by the album itself. Find it, buy it, support real soul music. 

When we recorded half our first album in Muscle Shoals, Alabama, Mark and I were in thrall to Southern Soul (our more Northern and Western influences being Prince, Ray Charles and Bobby Womack). The classic songs of Penn, Spooner Oldham, Chips Moman, Eddie Hinton, Donnie Fritts and others were really important to us, from “Dark End of the Street” to “Do Right Woman, Do Right Man”. The weeks we spent there were among our best musical memories, warmed by the fantastic hospitality and talent of all at Muscle Shoals Sound. 

A few years later, our career in the dumpster, I asked Mark to add piano and bass to a version I had started recording as a gift for a friend’s wedding [long story]. I can’t sing like the great Purify cousins, so I opted for a cooler, slightly swampier version with a dobro lick replacing the lovely xylophone on the original. I love Mark’s playing here — he has the South in his veins! — with his elegant take on Floyd Cramer’s country piano stylings. Enjoy…

Friday, 17th April

VISUAL OF THE WEEK

DaveWedding reception, Somerset. At the Maverick Festival a few years ago there were lots of well-known names in the, uh, Americana field, but they were all left for dust by Stompin’ Dave, our pick of the weekend. A great Rev. Gary Davis-style ragtime picker, a fine frailin’ banjoist, an excellent flat-foot dancer – Dave does all these things with brio and style. To hear him play as everyone arrived back from the church was a treat.

MY FAVOURITE PIECE OF WRITING ABOUT PERCY SLEDGE THIS WEEK
Mick Brown, in The Daily Telegraph: “But if “When A Man Loves A Woman” was very much a product of its time it was also, magically, a piece of work that transcended the moment and the place in which it was made: a song that seemed to have been circling the heavens, just waiting to be called down to earth. The greatest pop music has a magical capacity to speak to the heart, articulating the inchoate feelings that one can barely articulate oneself: This is how love feels, how love hurts. “When a man loves a woman, can’t keep his mind on nothing else…” You KNOW that’s right. From a small dusty town in northern Alabama, the song reached out to me, a love-struck teenager in South London, a textbook of all the longing I felt for the girl on the dancehall floor, whom I could never tell exactly how I felt, and never would.”

JOE BOYD ON SAM CHARTERS
From his email newsletter, kindly sent on to me by Mick Gold: “When I realized that music was still out there to be discovered and that producing records would be my life, it was, remarkably, that same Sam Charters who gave me the tip that opened the door to my professional career. In the winter of 1965, the night before leaving for Chicago (on business for my then-employer George Wein, producer of the Newport Jazz and Folk festivals), I found myself sharing a table at the Kettle of Fish bar with Sam. We and the other Greenwich Village blues hounds had gathered to hear the first New York performance of the just re-discovered Son House. When in Chicago, Sam urged me not to confine myself to South Side bars in my quest for great blues, but to head to the North Side and check out a mixed-race band under the leadership of Paul Butterfield. I mentioned the tip to my friend Paul Rothchild, newly appointed head of A&R at Elektra Records. He joined me in Chicago, signed Butterfield, added (at my suggestion) Mike Bloomfield on lead guitar. Six months later I had my reward: a job opening Elektra’s London office – on my way at last!”

JIMI: ALL IS BY MY SIDE (SLIGHT RECOMMENTATION)
Why is it that biopics often run out of steam halfway through? For the first 45 minutes this is great – as flighty and diffident-seeming as its title character, nicely shot and beautifully played. Andrew Buckley is great as Chas Chandler, as is André Benjamin as Jimi, and the music score is very clever. Denied any Hendrix tracks, director John Ridley has Waddy Wachtel replicate the sound and feel of both the Curtis Knight band and the Experience, with help from Leland Sklar and Bob Glaub on bass, and Kenny Aronoff on drums. The real star of the show, though, is Imogen Poots as Linda Keith, and it’s when her character becomes less involved that the story starts to sag, losing the vivacity and energy that she brings.

AND ON THE PLAYLIST THIS WEEK…
The Festival of the American South was held at the Royal Festival Hall, about 10 years ago, maybe more. One night was a songwriter’s circle hosted by Charlie Gillett, with Guy Clarke, Allen Toussaint, Vic Chestnutt, and – on this track Dan Penn, with Joe South adding inimitable Tennessee guitar. Probably unrehearsed, with some stumbling rhythm guitar, but a wonderful, wonderful vocal on a track written by Penn with Spooner Oldham and made famous by Percy Sledge.

Five Things Extra: A Few Of My Favourite Things

Words and Music, Box, Cox & Roberts
Found when moving, ukulele sheet music. Ghost Riders on the trail of the Lonesome Pine, before fetching up in Woodstock…

Across

Michael Douglas as Liberace in Behind The Candelabra, the single most vivid Hollywood performance of last year.
“Why do I love you? I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I’m with you. I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you for ignoring the possibilities of the fool in me, and for accepting the possibilities of the good in me. Why do I love you? I love you for closing your eyes to the discords in me, and for adding to the music in me by worshipful listening.”

Donald Fagen, Subterranean in Gestation, Eminent Hipsters
“I must have been about 8 years old when my father, like so many second-generation American dads, decided to get his family the hell out of the city and make a run at upward mobility in the suburbs. After a couple of false starts, we finally settled into a ranch-style home nestled among hundreds of its near-identical brothers in Kendall Park, N.J., a typical housing development circa 1957. The development was not very fully developed. I was not amused. Sawdust still hung in the air. To walk out of the sliding glass doors onto the slab of concrete that was the patio and gaze across an ocean of mud at one’s doppelganger neighbors was, well, awesome. My parents, gazing out the window of  the kitchen of the future, delighted in the open space, the gently curving streets and the streamlined look of the cream Olds Dynamic 88 all cosy in its carport. But for me, a subterranean in gestation with a real nasty case of otherness, it was a prison. I’d been framed and sentenced me to a long stretch at hard labor in Squaresville.”

Fascinating stuff about The Boswell Sisters (check out “We Just Couldn’t Say Goodbye”) and Henry Mancini, and I’m only a third of the way in.

Favourite Songs Of The Year
Lorde, “Royals”
Synth bass. Beats. No other instruments, just a punchy lead and great backing vox. A top melody. And pop-star skewering lyrics to die for:
“I’ve never seen a diamond in the flesh/I cut my teeth on wedding rings in the movies/And I’m not proud of my address/In a torn-up town, no postcode envy…
But every song’s like gold teeth, grey goose, trippin’ in the bathroom/blood stains, ball gowns, trashin’ the hotel room,
But everybody’s like Cristal, Maybach, diamonds on your timepiece/jet planes, islands, tigers on a gold leash…”
followed by her curtly dismissive: “We don’t care, we aren’t caught up in your love affair.” Thrilling.

Dan Penn, Zero Willpower
The Muscle Shoals documentary made me listen again to Dan Penn’s Do Right Man from 1994. Writer of “Dark End Of The Street” and “Do Right Woman, Do Right Man” among others, the album was recorded in the Shoals and features many of the town’s greats. This track was always a favourite, and listening again to the perfectly weighted rhythm section of Roger Hawkins and David Hood – like the suspension on a bridge – to the stately horns and organ, to the helicopter-like tremolo of Reggie Young’s guitar, I’m struck by its perfection. Nobody plays more than the song needs, or less than it deserves.

Robbie Fulks, “That’s Where I’m From”
Bob Dylan said in 1990, There’s enough songs in the world. The world don’t need any more songs…  and I knew what he meant. Bob weakened his case, of course, by writing “Love Sick”, “High Water (For Charley Patton)” and “Sugar Baby” a few years later. In some genres, you may as well give up, modern Country, especially. As the Country mainstream does the thing it does every decade or so and flirts with AOR, and the alt-end just gets more singer-songwritery (i.e. like smooth-sounding versions of Lucinda Williams) I didn’t expect to find a new Fulks album so moving. Do I need another acoustic bluegrass ’n’ country album? Well, yes. Especially one recorded in three days by Steve Albini in Chicago. Ken Tucker, writing for npr, puts it perfectly: “With Gone Away Backward, Fulks has made an album that feints in the direction of nostalgia while grappling very much with the here and now. Even for a singer-songwriter known for his clever twists and turns, it’s a considerable achievement. It partakes of folk, country, bluegrass and honky-tonk even as the shape of the songs and the content of the lyrics close off much chance of any one of these genres claiming the music as its own.”

Fulks had recorded “That’s Where I’m From…” a few years back in a more traditional arrangement with a full band and pedal steel, and it’s interesting to compare and see how much deeper the song’s become, supported this time round with a couple of guitars, bass and mandolin. A sound that’s totally naked – you could be sitting in a room with them. Every note perfectly placed. And a lyric that summons the fantastic ‘Cosmopolitan Country’ of the late 60s, of Tom T Hall and Tammy and George, as it limns the thoughts of a man far from his past:
“Back in the driveway/The end of the workday/How fast that world disappears
A fresh lawn, a pine tree/A neighbor just like me/Who’s worked all his life to get here…”
And he thinks back on…
“Dad doing battle/With dirt hard as gravel/And summers the crops never came
We’d shoot down a pheasant in flight/And sing songs about Jesus all night…”
And the chorus kicks in…
“That’s where I’m from/Where time passes slower/That’s where I’m from/Where it’s yes ma’am and no sir
You can’t tell I’m country/Just you look closer/It’s deep in my blood
A white collar, a necktie/That’s where I’ve come/Half-naked in the moonshine/That’s where I’m from…”
Then, after a glorious interlude of guitar interplay, the killer couplet: “If you’ve ever heard Hank Williams sing/Then, brother, you know the whole blessed thing…”