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“MY ODE TO MUSIC!”

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SONGS OF EXPERIENCE

CSNY AND ME

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INTERSTELLAR OVERDRIVE!

NO SLEEP ’TIL STUTTGART

PLUS!

THE NATIONAL JAMES UB40 ST VINCENT BONNIE ‘PRINCE’ BILLY MY BLOODY VALENTINE


“The ghost of electricity howls in the bones of her face” CAN • TH

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JUNE 2021 TAKE 289

AT E•O SEES • BOB DYLAN

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ELCOME to a very special issue of Uncut, as we celebrate Bob Dylan’s 80th birthday. As you might imagine, it’s an event that we’ve been working towards for some time. In fact, rummaging through my inbox, I’ve found an email exchange with Tom Pinnock from June last year, where we first discussed how we might mark this auspicious event. “Perhaps we should get to work now on a special Dylan CD,” we concluded. So approximately 10 months later, I’m thrilled to unveil Dylan Revisited – 14 covers of Dylan tracks recorded exclusively for Uncut alongside one previously unreleased gem from the man himself. If I’m honest, the period from January 7, when Thurston Moore sent us the first completed track, to February 26, when Frazey Ford emailed across the final track, has been one of the most exciting during my years at Uncut. Every couple of days, yet another amazing song arrived in our inboxes. I humbly think it is one of our best ever CDs – and hymns and hosannas to Tom for pulling it all together so brilliantly. We hope you enjoy it. Call it our birthday gift from Bob to you…

LE R

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INE ENT S • MY BLOODY VAL

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On the cover: Bob Dylan by Jerry Schatzberg/ Trunk Archive

Our Bobfest continues, as you’ll have noticed, with the cover story. We asked Dylan’s old friends, colleagues and admirers to share with us a favourite Bob encounter. Some of these stories shed new light on lesser-told parts of Dylan’s career, some are plain funny and some reveal tantalising glimpses of the man behind the myths and fables. Cumulatively, though, these yarns remind us of Dylan’s enduring capacity for reinvention – as Elton John tells us, “He’s 80 years old and still as good as he was in the ’60s, but in a completely different way. I admire that. How could you not?” There’s more, of course. Marianne Faithfull, Paul Weller, Can, Spiritualized, Field Music, UB40, Stephen Stills, The Strokes, Will Oldham, James, The National and My Bloody Valentine for starters. It’s a busy month – let us know what you think, either at letters@uncut.co.uk or visit us at https://forum.uncut.co.uk/. Take care, as ever. Michael Bonner, Editor. Follow me on Twitter @michaelbonner

CONTENTS

4 Instant Karma!

The National, Magic Roundabout, Karen Dalton, Polly Paulusma, Damon Locks

12 Jason Pierce

An audience with the Spiritualized frontman

16 New Albums

Paul Weller, St Vincent, Mdou Moctar, The Chills, Marianne Faithfull, Tony Joe White, Sons Of Kemet, Dorothea Paas

34 The Archive

Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, My Bloody Valentine, Sun Ra, Chuck Berry, Can, Iron & Wine, John and Yoko

48 Marianne Faithfull

Not this time, Covid… Rock’s most regal survivor discusses recovery, the ’60s, the Romantic poets and much more

54 James

92 The Strokes

Tim Booth and his cohorts re-emerge from pandemic and personal loss with an urgent new album

Revisiting the agenda-setting NYC upstarts’ first NME cover story

60 Bob Dylan

The Making Of “Food For Thought”

As rock’s capricious genius turns 80, Paul McCartney, Peggy Seeger, Elton John, Jackson Browne and many others share their most memorable Dylan encounters

76 Matt Sweeney & Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy

98 UB40

102 Lives Waxahatchee, Osees 105 Books Tracey Thorn and more 106 Films Black Bear, Creation Stories… 108 DVD, Blu-ray and TV

A tale of two friends, from NYC bars and David Blaine to their new Superwolves LP

New Order live, Madness, Sam Cooke

82 Field Music Album By Album

110 Not Fade Away Obituaries

86 Can

112 Letters… Plus the Uncut crossword

Irmin Schmidt and others discuss the Cologne experimentalists’ pioneering path

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114 My Life In Music Earl Slick

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Offer ends December 31, 2021.For enquiries please call: 01371 851882 or email: support@uncut.co.uk JUNE 2021 • UNCUT •3


THIS MONTH’S REVELATIONS FROM THE WORLD OF UNCUT FEATURING... Magic Roundabout | Karen Dalton | Damon Locks

National treasure

Anewdeluxe photobook capturesthe reciprocalwarmth ofAmerica’smost belovedband

GRAHAMMACINDOE;STUTENOLD

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ACK in 2001, The National were just a bunch of gawky Cincinnati transplants trying to get a foothold in New York’s resurgent indie-rock scene. Nervous in front of the camera, they asked a trusted friend – Scottish photographer Graham MacIndoe, who’d worked on design projects with bassist Scott Devendorf – to take their first professional press shots in his living room. “We were pretty awkward but we were super-excited that Graham was doing it,” says Devendorf today. “I really liked his style of portraiture – it had a very honest focus to it. He made us look cool in an unstylised way. We used the heck out of it.” But as The National’s star finally began to rise with the release of 2007’s Boxer, MacIndoe found himself “on a different trajectory”, mired in the heroin addiction he would later document candidly in his exhibition Coming Clean: “I’d say to people, ‘I know that band!’ and they’d be like, ‘Yeah, yeah, whatever’.” But The National never forgot about MacIndoe’s key role in their ascent and, after reconnecting in 2012, he was invited to document the recording of Trouble Will Find Me before joining the band on tour. “To be honest, in the beginning I was a wee bit intimidated because they’d become this big rock band who everyone talked about,” says the photographer. “But that soon disappeared. They were a bit more professional and a bit better dressed but they still let me boss them around and tousle their hair.” MacIndoe’s photos are now 4 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

collated in Light Years, a handsome new coffee-table tome that also stands as a testament to The National’s uniquely empathetic aura, capturing poignant moments of communion with friends, family and fans. “Graham presents people in a way where they look naturally comfortable and you can see things about their personality,” says Devendorf. “For me, it’s cool to see the pictures where the fans are freaking out; you don’t always see that from the stage. It’s one of the more surprising, special parts of being in the band.” SAMRICHARDS

Light Years is available now from AmericanMary.com, accompanied by an LP of songs from The National’s September 2018 performances at Forest Hills Stadium, New York. A portion of proceeds from the signed edition will benefit the band’s tour crew

Graham MacIndoe (centre) with The National and their touring musicians, Kentucky 2018

Matt Berninger onstage at The National’s Homecoming Festival, Cincinnati, April 29, 2018 Left: The National’s first press shoot, Brooklyn April, 2001


“It’s cool to see the pictures where the fans are freaking out” SCOTT DEVENDORF JUNE 2021 • UNCUT •5


Magic Roundabout supporting The Pastels, April 1987

Earlydays:(l–r) PaulChadwick andNickDavidson

What goes a The miraculous tale of Manc indie never-weres Magic Roundabout, resurrected by Third Man after 34 years

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N 1987, Manchester band Magic Roundabout looked set to take the indie world by storm. They sported leather jackets and bowl cuts, hitting a musical sweet spot somewhere between C86 and White Light/White Heat. “A great band,” remembers Graham Lambert of Inspiral Carpets, who played with them several times. “They had a cacophony of sounds and a lightshow straight from a ’60s psychedelic meltdown film. They could do one song for 20 minutes but they never compromised and I liked that.” However, with all seemingly to play for, Magic Roundabout never got around to releasing anything… until now. A mere 34 years after its recording, debut single “Sneaky Feelin’” is finally surfacing on Jack White’s Third Man Records, on appropriate rainbow-splatter vinyl. Its belated appearance owes much to the persistence of another indie luminary, Ian Masters. The former 6 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

Pale Saints frontman witnessed Magic Roundabout supporting Loop at the Three Legs pub in Leeds in 1987 and was captivated by their “weird and intoxicating aura. The guitars were just the right amount out of tune.” After the gig the band gave Masters some tapes, which he’s held on to ever since. “They just kept nagging away at me,” he explains. Last year, Masters passed the tapes to His Name Is Alive’s Warren Defever – with whom he records as ESP Summer – to see if he could

“They had a weird and intoxicating aura. The guitars were just the right amount out of tune” IAN MASTERS, PALE SAINTS

remove some hiss. Defever was working on them in the Third Man studio when the label’s Dave Buick walked in. “His reaction was the same as mine,” reveals Defever, “that this is something great.” Magic Roundabout’s all-too-brief story began in 1986, when bassist Paul Chadwick met singer/guitarist Linda Jennings on the bus and told

her that he was forming a band. The pair were soon joined by stand-up drummer Nick Davidson and at least two other members who didn’t do much except bash tambourines and look cool. “People would just join us on stage,” Davidson chuckles. “We had an accordionist called Julia for just one gig.” Nonetheless, they managed to land support slots with like-minded outfits such as My Bloody Valentine and The Pastels. “My highlight was playing with Spacemen 3,” remembers Jennings. “They were amazing, but also really nice to us.” There wasn’t universal approval, though. “Some people would just walk out,” admits Davidson. “But those who loved us really loved us.” Jennings remembers handing demo tapes to Elvis Costello and an uninterested Tony Wilson, but Magic Roundabout never made it as far as London. “Then I had the mad idea to move the whole band to Nottingham [where Jennings was studying],” explains Nick Davidson. “It was a disaster.” Jennings describes how they all lived together in the same house, “like The Young Ones. Fights over the washing-up. We loved each other but we kept having these domestics. Eventually

everyone wanted to go home.” After the band fell apart, Davidson became a mental-health nurse. Chadwick and later recruit Karrie Price (violin/guitar) now make breakbeat as Backdraft. Jennings never stopped performing: in 2017, still sporting a sharp indie look, she impressed Tom Jones with her rendition of “The Long And Winding Road” on The Voice UK. “Sneaky Feelin’” will be followed by a whole album of songs recorded back in the ’80s, such as the beautiful Andy Warhol tribute “Honeyed Up” and the 20-minute “Alice’s Paper Plane”, a Mancunian cousin of The Velvet Underground’s “The Gift”. With all this activity, is a Magic Roundabout reunion on the cards? “I remember all the tunes,” smiles Jennings. Adds Davidson: “And the drums are pretty easy…”

DAVE SIMPSON

“Sneaky Feelin’” is out now on Third Man Records


“You reallyfeel it heavywith her”

Karen Dalton: “She wasn’t there to be the way someone else wanted her to be”

As Karen Dalton’s music continues to enthrall, a new film pieces together the fragments of the singer’s difficult life

film,” adds Peete. “That’s why we used her journals.” They got to them just in time. In 2018, a few weeks after they had been immortalised on camera, Dalton’s writings – along with all her surviving personal effects – were destroyed in a fire at the Woodstock home of her archivist and friend Peter Walker. “We were lucky we got up there when we did,” says Peete with a shudder. The quantity and quality of the family photos and archive footage in In My Own Time is extraordinary given Dalton’s marginal circumstances, while friends remember her illtempered brilliance with immense fondness. “[The film] really captures her,” says Holter. “She wasn’t there to try to be the way someone else wanted her to

be. The professionalism of the music industry was just not her vibe at all, and that speaks of her being a genuine artist.” Dalton’s music was a little bit too real for audiences in her own time, but her songs and her story continue to resonate down the years. “She just loved playing music and I hear that in her work,” Holter says. “She embodies a song in an emotional, agonising, cathartic way. You really feel it heavy with her.” JIMWIRTH Karen Dalton: In My Own Time is due in North American cinemas and online from October 1; Light In The Attic will elease a 50thanniversary edition of In My Own Time around he same time JUNE 2021 • UNCUT •7

KAREN DALTON PHOTO COURTESY OF DAN HANKIN. JULIA HOLTER: TAMMY NGUYEN

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ICK Cave was so profoundly moved when he first heard ill-starred ’60s troubadour Karen Dalton’s extraordinary “Something On My Mind” on a cassette in his car that he pulled over at the side of the road and wept. “It wasn’t that it was sad, it was because it was perfect,” he says in Richard Peete and Robert Yapkowitz’s new documentary Karen Dalton: In My Own Time. “The Bad Seeds have been attempting to write that song for years now.” Set for a full release later this year after successful festival showings, the film finds plenty of perfect moments amid the darkness of Dalton’s messy life. Featuring Dalton’s daughter Abbe Baird as well as the singer’s ex-partners and musical collaborators, In My Own Time has Californian avant-indie voyager Julia Holter providing an elegant score and Angel Olsen reading illuminating extracts from Dalton’s diaries. “Her voice is like a trumpet – it’s so beautiful,” Holter tells Uncut, explaining the eerie force of Dalton’s two albums, 1969’s It’s So Hard To Know Who’s Going To Love You The Best and 1971’s In My Own Time. “It has a real sadness but it also feels more multi-dimensional than that.” Raised in Oklahoma, Dalton was Hardin, Fred Neil and The Holy twice married with two children by Modal Rounders recognised the the time she washed up in the New ominous power of her voice, but York folk clubs of the early 1960s. black moods, drug use and an “She was a tall white blues singer unwillingness to perform her own and guitar player, funky, lanky and songs ensured she sultry,” remembered never enjoyed even one of her first fans, a fragment of their Bob Dylan. “Karen success. Always dirt had a voice like poor, she died of an Billie Holiday and Aids-related illness played guitar like in 1993, aged 55. Jimmy Reed.” Her story is full However, while she of frustrating dead found favour with JULIA HOLTER ends, but In My Own contemporaries, Time shakes the Dalton disappeared conventional narrative from the scene for long about Dalton’s life. periods. She played “She’s often portrayed music in private with as tragic, but there’s friends but performed more depth to her story only sporadically, than that,” says chafing against the Yapkowitz. “We demands of being a wanted to have her commercial singer. fingerprint on the The likes of Tim


Get Carter Polly Paulusma’s new album is inspired by Angela Carter’s early forays into folksong

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ANNIE DRESSNER; FAY GODWIN/ALAMY STOCK PHOTO

T was at a folk music conference in 2014 that Polly Paulusma first had a hunch about the writer Angela Carter. “I was down in the hotel bar, listening to all these amazing folk performers singing songs of murder and blood,” she remembers. “And then I was going up to my room and reading Angela Carter novels, with all their stories about murder and blood. I realised then that she was pinching massive tracts of these songs. But it took me a while to get hard evidence.” Paulusma’s affection for Carter, famed for her feminist stance and works of magical realism, was already long-standing. “Carter writes like a singer,” she says. “She’s a very musical writer – when I’m reading her, all my hairs go up because I’m responding to her in a sonic way.” When Paulusma – who studied English at Cambridge before pursuing a music career – decided to return to academia, enrolling on a part-time master’s course at Kings College London that eventually became a PhD, there was only one possible subject. That led to an album, Invisible Music, in which Paulusma reinterprets the traditional folk songs that inspired Carter’s work, from “Barbary Allen” to “Lady Isabel And The ElfKnight”. “It’s really a by-product of my PhD,” she says. “I had to understand how singing the songs would’ve made Carter feel, so that I could write authentically about it.” Paulusma has paired each song with a reading from Carter’s work. “Jack Munro”, for instance, “an amazing romp of a song” about a girl who defies her father and follows her beloved into the army “dressing up as

“Youcansee afeminist narrative emerging”: Paulusma anddulcimer 8 • UNCUT • MAY 2021

a bloke, and then outsoldieringeverybody” has been placed next to an excerpt from short story “The Bloody Chamber” – taken from the 1979 collection of the same name – in which “an amazing gun-slinging mum, already famous for killing tigers in Hanoi, turns up on a rearing horse. It’s like she’s stepped out of a ballad.” She hopes that by laying songs and stories side by side, listeners will come to hear what she heard: “that Carter steeped herself in this music and it seeps into her writing”.

“Carter writes like a singer. When I’m reading her, all my hairs go up” POLLY PAULUSMA

Angela Carter in 1976 and (below) the sleeve to Invisible Music

It’s there not only in the subject matter, but in her imagery, phrasing and political sensibilities. “One of the things I really love about the songs Carter chose to sing is you can see a feminist narrative emerging,” says Paulusma. “Songs about strong women, warrior women, or singing from a male perspective.” The readings are performed by the novelist Kirsty Logan and the songwriter Kathryn Williams – herself no stranger to literary cross-pollination, having recorded an album inspired by Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar and published her own first novel, The Ormering Tide, this spring. “I don’t know why she chose me to read the murderous scenes, but they were fantastic,” says Williams. “Polly really dives deep, and I love that about her.” Indeed, Paulusma’s research uncovered some crucial details about Carter’s early years that brought everything into focus: the author’s first husband worked for Topic and in the mid-’60s they founded a folk club in Bristol, where Carter herself performed. Paulusma was stunned when she heard the tapes. “I wouldn’t say she picked the wrong career, but it was a surprisingly confident voice. She really hits the high notes.” LAURA BARTON

Invisible Music is released by Wild Sound on April 23

A QUICK ONE Like a hurricane! The new Ultimate Music Guide is a deluxe and fully updated edition of our definitive guide to the work of Neil Young. Over 148 pages we dive fearlessly into the ditch and rummage deep in the rust bucket to bring you the full story of Neil’s career – including searching new words on his most recent work and the monster that is Archives Vol II…

Anyone unable to find a copy of our Ultimate Music Guide to The Fall in the shops will be relieved to learn we have restocked our online store at Uncut. co.uk/single… Uncut’s founding art editor Norman McLoed tragically died of a brain tumour in 2016, aged just 49. His brother Colin – and partner in Manchester’s Moolah Rouge studios – has just released a tribute album to Norman called simply Brother, featuring the likes of BJ Cole, Stuart McCullum and over 30 other musicians. Get it from moolahrouge. co.uk/mcleod… Lockdown has evidently prompted a number of frustrated rockers to dig out the typewriter. We can look forward to memoirs later this year from Bobby Gillespie, Stevie Van Zandt, Geezer Butler and Echo & The Bunnymen’s Will Sergeant…


UNCUT PLAYLIST On the stereo this month…

MARISA ANDERSON & WILLIAM TYLER Lost Futures THRILL JOCKEY

Fresh from his appearance on our Ambient Americana CD, Tyler teams with another leading avant-folk guitarist for an album of exquisite environmental anxiety.

LAMBCHOP

Showtunes CITY SLANG

Deconstructed Broadway balladry and the occasional zinger – one song’s called “Papa Was A Rolling Stone Journalist” – on Kurt Wagner and co’s glorious 15th.

WE’RE NEW HERE

BEAK>

“Oh Know” INVADA

Not a single, just a trademark dank groove to let you know they’re still alive. Comes with a brilliantly weird video featuring a man in a white balaclava having a breakdown.

SVEN WUNDER

Natura Morta PIANO PIANO

FormerChicago punk meldingspiritual jazz with gospeland electronica to addressthe times

KRISTIE KAHNS; DARIS JASPER

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VISUAL artist, singer, actor and educator, Damon Locks is a modern renaissance man. However, his most recent project – the uplifting and polemical gospel/jazz group Black Monument Ensemble – came into being when one strand of his artistic practice no longer felt like the apposite tool to help transcend the state of the world. “There was a time period when there were a series of what seemed to be regular deaths of black people on the internet,” Locks begins. “That’s still going on. I’d started teaching art in a maximum security prison here in Chicago, working with incarcerated artists. Then someone else would get murdered. I was struggling with how to be an artist as it was hard to incorporate nice mark-making into this difficult world.” Locks is speaking to Uncut today from within a record-filled apartment, and it was to some of these records that he turned to find a way of addressing a time of police brutality and civil rights abuses. Among the riches of his prodigious collection were LPs of field recordings from the mid-20th century and readings of Langston Hughes poetry by Ossie Davies and Ruby Dee, which seemed to retain a potent relevance nearly 60 years later. From these and other documentary voices, Locks began to assemble soundbeds which could become the basis of wider musical and dramatic development. “People would close their eyes and listen, and we’d have discussions after,” Damon remembers. “As the civil rights of people seemed to be called into question again, I felt maybe gospel wasn’t only the voice of the civil rights era, because it was where you found community and leadership. Maybe it was

10 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

necessary – maybe you need black voices in song, talking about these issues.” After five albums as leader of post-hardcore band Trenchmouth and another five with dubpunks The Eternals, Locks had been keeping music as a background concern. But following work with Rob Mazurek’s Exploding Star Orchestra, he felt that he had developed enough “large group” experience to address the injustices of his era and voice his concerns in the way they should be heard: from uplifting gospel voices in a modern, sample-assisted fire music. Locks composes, providing both the electronics and the fierce vocal interjections. The first Black Monument Ensemble album, 2019’s Where Future Unfolds, captured a live show accompanied by costumed dancers and lively crowd. The second, NOW, is another vérité work. Playing the cards dealt to the group by Covid restrictions, it was recorded last August in the garden outside Chicago’s Experimental Sound Studio, with cicadas bringing an attractive verisimilitude. Hear “Keep Your Mind Free” or the extraordinary “The Body Is Electric” – this is important contemporary music that voices modern concerns and gives them life. Rather than simply telling, the music is layered to the point it really shows: the potential for joy is seeded amid the anger and concern. So how does Damon imagine a world beyond the pandemic? “I’m not seeking to go back to normal, as normal got us here,” he says. “This has been a superchallenging period, but this is where the world needs artists most: to use their imaginations and see if we can create new ways of thinking. When people come out of their apartments they’re going to want to see and hear new things. It’s time to imagine what’s possible.” JOHN ROBINSON NOW is currently available digitally, with a physical release to follow on July 9 via International Anthem

Even better than the real thing? After tackling Anatolian psych and oriental moods, the master of mimicry turns his attention to late-’60s Italian soundtracks.

DAVID JOHN MORRIS

Monastic Love Songs HINTERGROUND

Written during a nine-month retreat at a Buddhist monastery in Nova Scotia, the Red River Dialect frontman locates a deep calm that recalls Beverly Glenn-Copeland.

THE HOLY FAMILY

The Holy Family ROCKET RECORDINGS

“I smell undiluted hell”… UK psych warlocks Guapo reconvene under a new banner, touting a double album of monstrous resurrection shuffles.

HAILU MERGIA & THE WALIAS BAND

Tezeta AWESOME TAPES FROM AFRICA

All hail Hailu! Welcome reissue of a rare 1975 tape from the Ethiopian organ maestro.

LONELADY

“(There Is) No Logic” WARP

Manchester’s Julie Campbell crisply imagines what might have happened if mid-’80s Madonna hooked up with Cabaret Voltaire.

JOHN GRANT

Boy From Michigan BELLA UNION

“Some people like alliteration/ But I’ve always been an assonance man” – Grant’s opening line game is strong on wryly autobiographical newie, produced by Cate Le Bon.

MOLLY LEWIS

“Oceanic Feeling” JAGJAGUWAR

The self-styled “human theremin” – she whistles, basically – fashions oddly captivating exotica, beloved of Karen O and John C Reilly. A step up from the postman.


THE DEBUT ALBUM

OUT 7TH MAY


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Photo session for the most recent Spiritualized LP, And Nothing Hurt, 2018 12 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021


It’s made me really tearful, actually ANAUDIENCEWITHJASONPIERCE Ladies and gentlemen… we are inviting the Spiritualized space commander to navigate your questions on writer’s block, jazz records, Jesus and “relentless” former band members Interview by TOM PINNOCK

now, of sending me up on the Virgin rocket and doing Ladies And Gentlemen… from space. That filled me with a bit of, “Yeah, that’s cool, let’s do it” – crossed with dread of these things blowing up.

Howdoyoudealwithartist’s block?JosefRosam,viaemail

I don’t really worry, because I figure it will always come when you don’t expect it. I can write down every thought I have for a year and a half, then find that I use none of it – there’s no methodology, it just doesn’t work like that. A lot of my stuff is about forcing something more from the same small input, the same one- or two-chord start-point that can be stretched out, then suddenly you hit something new. Most people edit down to make records, but I’m constantly editing up. There’s no additional material because it’s all forced to be good.

Would you be willing to send your music to space? Sandra Rachdi, via email

There’s so much junk out there already, isn’t there? So I don’t fancy throwing another bit out there to needlessly float around. Playing up there makes more sense. There was talk a while back, years

Whoarethemostinspiringpeople you’vemet?TonyRowland,viaemail Virgin Galactic’s space plane; (top) the 2021 2LP reissue of Lazer Guided Melodies

I think about Dr John obviously, and Iggy, who I see occasionally when he’s around. But the people I work with often are really the most inspiring and the least credited for it – like John Coxon; he’s not in the

band any more, but he’s a huge inspiration in my life. It’s my band and the people that are around me.

What are your memories of Rugby Art College? James Godwin, via email

At art college I met Pete, and that was the start of Spacemen 3 – or at least the start of talking about Spacemen 3. I was a big fan of The Stooges when I went there, he was a big Cramps fan, so we hung out talking about music. I haven’t been back to Rugby for years, not since my mother died. Thinking about Spacemen 3, what you want with a band is your small gang againsttheworld, likeyou’relookingout on the world; but it became about infighting. I wonder if that was either something to do with small towns in general or with the small town that I came from. Rugby seemed to attack itself. It was always knocking people down if you stepped over the county line. If I think of the romantic places people in rock’n’roll are from, I think about Lubbock, Texas, or the Mississippi, the river of travel and change. Then there’s my hometown, with all the major property there owned by the public school. It’s a strange place to hail from.

Whenwereyoulastincontact withPeteKember?NathanielMartin, viaemail

I was in touch with him quite recently, actually. We have some unresolved Spacemen 3 legal issues that we’re trying to sort out. Pete’s been to see Spiritualized over the years, has he? I’ve not seen him there, but that’s really nice to hear.

Doyouconsidertheretobea definitiveSpiritualizedlineup? KathyAbalon,viaemail

I loved it when John [Coxon] was in the band with Sean [Cook] and Damon [Reece] and Kate [Radley]. She was incredible, absolutely relentless: “This is the keyboard and everything is going to be shaped around this!” There was something JUNE 2021 • UNCUT •13

JULIETTE LARTHE ; GENE BLEVINS/ZUMA WIRE/ALAMY LIVE NEWS

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T transpires that Jason Pierce may be rock’s most knowledgeable authority on the coronavirus pandemic. “I’ve had double pneumonia,” he explains. “Most of my tour reading is on science, so I knew a little bit what we were in store for. I sat back in horror watching people ignore it all and question whether it’s real or fake… I know what it’s like not to be able to breathe – it’s not something you’d wish on anybody.” Despite claiming he’d “feel guilty” if he’d had a productive lockdown year, Pierce’s work has carried on as usual: a Spiritualized reissue campaign is set to begin with their debut, 1992’s Lazer Guided Melodies, he’s been picking up rare guitars from Mexico and – most impressive of all – completed a new Spiritualized album. “When I release a record I’m always confident that, ‘Yeah, this is right’, because I’ve tried it in a thousand different ways, on every kind of level. When we can tour again it’s going to be like the Oklahoma land grab – people fighting to the death over a few square feet of stage boards!” First, though, Pierce is answering your questions on topics including spacesuits, gospel music, his working practice and Spacemen 3, and musing on just why Rugby isn’t as rock’n’roll as Lubbock, Texas. “That’s made my year in a kind of weird way,” he says, reflecting on the many messages thanking him for the healing powers of his music. “It’s made me really tearful, actually. How lovely.”


In Pure Phase-era Spiritualized, 1995: (l–r) Jason Pierce, Jonny Mattock, Kate Radley

level. Do I have faith? No. Well, I probably have faith but not any religious beliefs. It’s impossible to stand in front of those gospel choirs and not be deeply moved.

Do you think your reputation for hedonism has been exaggerated? Stella Amadei, via email

Probably, yes. Most definitely. I haven’t ever spoken about anything to do with that particularly – and I guess I’m not going to start now!

ve discovered so much music via our recommendations over the ears. What’s your favourite jazz ecord? Liv Bodine, via email

“It would be foolish for me to say, ‘It was good then and it’s failed since’” amazing about that. Then an album and a half further from that, it was this huge band where there were 60 people on stage. Each lineup had its faults, but somewhere in the middle of that these glorious sounds form. It would be foolish for me to say, “It was good then and it’s failed since.” I feel like the whole thing has been trying to find new ways of pushing this thing to places where you don’t know the answers.

MARTYN GOODACRE/GETTY IMAGES

Have you read Will Carruthers’ memoir about Spacemen 3 and Spiritualized? Ingo Pfaff, via email

Yeah, I did try. During lockdown I’ve read voraciously, so I don’t think it’s that strange that I’ve read it. But it’s hard to read when you’re a person in the book in someone else’s memories, because obviously they don’t tally with your memories in the same way. Will left the band, he wasn’t pushed, but he hasn’t spoken to me since – he’s very bitter that we didn’t cease at that moment, like, “That’s it, we can’t work any more.” I think I pick up all the little chips, the little digs, more than somebody who isn’t a character in the book would.

When And Nothing Hurt was released, you said it might be your last album. Is that still the case? Ani Lieterman, via email

I do wonder if me saying that is just a defence mechanism, like it’s a fear of not being able to do another, given how long it takes me to do a record. I actually have another Spiritualized album ready to go now – in lockdown I’ve at least been able to find a bit of space to put that together. Will that be the last one? I feel like I’ve written quite a lot of stuff in the meantime. It’s hard until you start putting it down to know what you’ve got, but I’ve been writing. I always wish that I could hand over to somebody and say, “Here are the tracks, mix this…” But what’s the purpose of that, unless it’s just to generate something to sell?

I hear Jesus’s name mentioned in many of your songs – do you consider yourself a Christian? Filippo Casiraghi, via email

No, I don’t. I adore gospel music – I’ve always thought it comes from a place of truth , and I feel like so much music isn’t truthful, it’s copying somebody else’s ideas or style in order to sell something. When I was still in Rugby I discovered gospel and, I guess like with rock’n’roll, I love the language. “Lord help me” sounds so much more than just “help me”. With [Spacemen 3’s] “Walking With Jesus”, the reference lays out the story of it, and then makes the rest of the telling of the story easier to do – so it’s a kind of vehicle, and people respond to it, they understand it. I don’t believe people listen to my music and say, “I better get to church” – but they understand it, and “Littlechips,little digs”:Spiritualized it puts ideas across in a way withWillCarruthers that obviously works on every (centre)atPierce’s house,Rugby,1991

14 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

lthough it’s hard to speak about an udience as a group of people who’ve ot the same tastes, I do feel our dience are really into [similar] music hey’re always asking what we’re aying ahead of shows. I listened “Peace Piece” by Bill Evans this orning and it’s hard not to just solutely fall into that track.

What’s your favourite piece of ear? Your Thinline Telecaster? am Rogers, via email own three of that model and here’s one that’s particularly my guitar’. I managed to get a Vox Invader from Mexico during ockdown, so that’s my new avourite guitar at the moment. It’s ust beautiful – and it’s got builtn effects; it’s like the sound is manating from inside the guitar. don’t think many of them go up or sale, so I felt very fortunate o get my hands on that. I don’t now if that’s going to relegate the hinline, though.

Where can I get a good pacesuit? Tom, Birmingham

a! You know what, they are eriously expensive. They were r sale in Russia not so long ago, ty, the Russian ground adn’t been for the hat was the next trip we make. There’s a place in akes a fake of the Mercury ut even that’s going to price of a small house. her have the Mercury suit use, so you have to choose he Mercury suits are so n space suits – space suits hey haven’t been built for vel. I’ve not owned a real was a time when NASA to let a lot of stuff go, but I hink the suits went – they’re cious about space dust, so ng that’s gone anywhere e moon is not going to go. t is probably worth more e suit! Good luck. er Guided Melodies is out ril 23 on Fat Possum


CARGO COLLECTIVE

THE CHILLS

GODSPEED YOU! BLACK EMPEROR

SCATTERBRAIN

FIRE RECORDS LP / CD

A landmark album from one of the great modern song writers, it’s pure pop music for the new normal with an incisive turn of phrase. Limited edition ‘Deep Sea’ marble LP with artwork by Trees’ David Costa.

THE REDS, PINKS AND PURPLES

GREAT SPANS OF MUDDY TIME

GYBE returns with a soundtrack for our times: two riveting side-lengths of noise-drenched post-rock spittle and grit, two shorter elegiac companion pieces. Deluxe vinyl is 180gLP + 10” in thermograph gatefold..

Available on ltd cream LP, light rose LP and CD. “‘Flock’ might prove to be the defining album in her career” Uncut “Weaver’s version of pop is distinctly cosmic and deliciously skewed.” The Guardian

Born from accident but driven forward by instinct, Doyle showcases a unique exploration of pop, artrock, ambient & idiosyncratic compositions, married with a voice that deftly glides from tender restraint to soaring peaks.

GNOD

MAGIC CASTLES

WHITE FLOWERS

ROCKET RECORDINGS 2LP / CD

‘A’ RECORDINGS LP / CD

TOUGH LOVE LP / CD

CONSTELLATION LP / CD

EASY TO BUILD, HARD TO DESTROY

Self-recorded & mostly self-performed, features pinnacle versions of songs Glenn Donaldson has honed since the beginning of the project. He imagines his listeners are just like himself: fascinated & addicted to the spiritual power of uncomplicated pop classics.

Compilation of obscure material from the raw intense heady early days. Rapture through noise and repetition reaching beyond the boundaries, rock orthodoxy or genre constriction.

PETER HAMMILL

DJ BLACK LOW

FIE RECORDS CD

AWESOME TAPES FROM AFRICA LP / CD

TOUGH LOVE LP / CD

IN TRANSLATION

Available on Gold 180 gram vinyl Minneapolis psych-rockers Magic Castles are back with a new LP, “Sun Reign”, the band’s fourth release on Anton Newcombe’s ‘A’ Recordings Ltd label.

Day By Day is the dark-hued dreampop debut from Preston duo, White Flowers, recorded in an abandoned textile mill and produced with Doves’ Gez Williams.

MCKINLEY DIXON

DAWN RICHARD

FOR MY MAMA AND ANYONE WHO LOOK LIKE HER

SECOND LINE

MERGE RECORDS LP / CD

ELEPHANT MICAH

KISHI BASHI

WESTERN VINYL LP / CD

WESTERN VINYL LP / CD

JOYFUL NOISE RECORDINGS LP

MERGE RECORDS LP / CD

“McKinley Dixon works through inner demons and tries to make sense of mortality for Black peoples via a hybrid of rap and jazz, pulling in strings, horns, and angelic vocalists.”

THE FELLOWSHIP

VAGUE TIDINGS

Joseph Shabason blends spacious jazz with fourth-world tonality, creating an auditory map of his dual-faith Islamic and Jewish upbringing. Uncut says his work is “ravishing.” The Guardian calls it “wonderful.”

AMALGAMATION

DAY BY DAY

JOSEPH SHABASON

REIGNING SOUND

AN

SUN REIGN

“Dawn Richard has a sumptuous rasp of a voice and brazenly left-field musical instincts.” Pitchfork.

DJ Black Low is a young producer who makes a jarringly complex and original style of amapiano, the newish form of South African electronic music.

A LITTLE MORE TIME WITH REIGNING SOUND

TOUGH LOVE LP / CD

SPACEBOMB LP / CD

From Tango to American Songbook, Italian Pop to Classical, Peter’s first ever album of cover versions, most of which he also translated. Very different but very much a PH disc.

COLLECTIVE:

FIRE RECORDS LP / CD

UWAMI

Featuring the original Memphis lineup, Greg Cartwright’s poetic, moody ballads and upbeat, guitar riff-driven rock ‘n’ roll songs touch on each spectrum of human emotion.

WILLIAM DOYLE

FLOCK

UNCOMMON WEATHER

CARGO

JANE WEAVER

G_D’S PEE AT STATE’S END

OF

RECORD

SHOPS

EMIGRANT EP

Inspired by a DIY tour of Alaska, Vague Tidings evokes images of a frontier lust run amok. Uncut compares him to Will Oldham and Bon Iver, while Mojo calls his songs “lovely.”

AND

LABELS

DEDICATED

TO

Kishi Bashi travelled frequently to Montana for his album “Omoiyari” which gave him the freedom to gravitate towards roots music now documented on Emigrant EP.

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“What you need is to see it’s OK to be yourself/And that with belief the world will do the rest”

WA B

JUNE 2021 TAKE 289

1 ST VINCENT (P20) 2 TONY JOE WHITE (P26) 3 SONS OF KEMET (P30) 4 DOROTHEA PAAS (P32)

THE UNCUT GUIDE TO THIS MONTH’S KEY RELEASES

PAUL WELLER Fat Pop (Volume 1) POLYDOR

The Modfather celebrates his long love of pop’s power. By Pete Paphides

N SANDRA VIJANDI

just getting to the point. Pop music, for want OW into his seventh ALBUM of a better term, is the only art form that can decade, Paul Weller OF THE communicate directly and emotionally on has resisted any and MONTH that level.” all invitations to write his It almost certainly wouldn’t have occurred memoir. At the last count 9/10 to Weller as he alighted upon the title of his new six biographies bearing his album that 40 years had elapsed since “Start!”; name have been published, a proper modernist doesn’t dwell too long on these but ever the modernist, Weller views his creative things. But the rest of us are not bound by those rules. past rather like a motorist might look in the rear-view And so it’s oddly touching to see the title track on his mirror – foot on the pedal, in constant forward motion. 16th solo album worshipping at the same thematic However, for anyone seeking a set text to lead us altar as its distant predecessor, albeit with a lolloping to the existential essence of Wellerworld, there is funk gate, the occasional smoke plume of woodwind one book that will get you further than the others. and garnish of G-funk keyboard, with space between Published in 2007, Suburban 100 saw Weller select those constituent parts for Weller to navigate a familiar his favourite lyrics spanning his time with The Jam, line of inquiry: “Who raised the game when the game plus The Style Council and his solo years. Included was poor/And sent our heads in search of more/Made almost as footnotes at the bottom of every lyric were you question all you’d learnt before?/Ah, Fat – Pop!” quotes from Weller himself, shedding light on the The existence of Fat Pop inspirations, circumstances is proof that music can act and intentions that helped as a lifeline even in the most give life to modern standards turbulent of times. Had the “That’s Entertainment”, “Shout world not ground to a halt To The Top” and “Wild Wood”. in 2020, much of Weller’s Let’s look at whatWellerhasto year would have been spent say about The Jam’s second No 1 promoting and touring single “Start!”: “I was thinking On Sunset, its acclaimed about the power of music and predecessor. For the proprietor the power of a pop song, how of Black Barn Studios, set in two or three minutes could the Surrey countryside, not far say so much to so many. And from the Woking streets of his what’s it always meant to me. childhood, here was a chance I was stripping words back to to maintain his momentum the bare minimum at the time,

16 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021


Paternal confidant: Weller lends an ear and a voice to pop listeners


Red legend: Weller mainlines his inspirations

– and to have fun in a world which, at times, seemed bereft of it. It’s there from the outset. Vocally and lyrically, “Cosmic Fringes” dips from the same inkwell as a young Ray Davies, refracted through a bolshy persona that recalls recent Baxter Dury albums. Over a krautrock groove, Weller recasts himself as a self-styled online warrior, omnipotent in front of his screen – “Stumble to the fridge/And back to bed again” – but impotent beyond the home he never leaves. In the tradition of previous opening tracks “Green” (Sonik Kicks) and “Mirror Ball” (On Sunset), as well as the title track to Wake Up The Nation, you suspect “Cosmic Fringes” is there to shake up expectations, ruffle a few feather cuts. For all of that, though, what sits at the heart of the record is a cluster of songs that, for all their experimental flourishes, draw deepest and most audibly on Weller’s lifelong love of soul music. Turning in his most prominent guest vocal since sked him her Wild en Andy Low on

to imagine Bobby Womack inhabiting “Testify”. If Curtis Mayfield the same role, urging his lover to stay or Jon Lucien were still strong in the turbulent now so that they around, it’s no great stretch can be together later, when better days to imagine them assisting ensue. The regretful self-interrogations on “That Pleasure” – a sunof “Failed” are measured out over a soaked call to love that feels kinetic chug that calls to mind JJ Cale. like a sublime companion SLEEVE NOTES There’s a palpable ache at play here piece to a handful of cosmic 1 Cosmic Fringes that echoes the mood of the Wild Wood soul invocations from 2 True album: “If everything was different the Modfather’s canon, 3 Fat Pop now/How different would I be?/If I could most notably On Sunset’s 4 Shades Of Blue change one thing around/Would that “Baptiste” and Wake Up The 5 Glad Times pattern still be complete?” Nation’s “Aim High”. 6 Cobweb / The Weller of 2021 is happy to It’s in this musical and Connections mainline his inspirations but stops emotional postcode that 7 Testify short of being in thrall to them. To most of Fat Pop’s most stellar 8 That Pleasure 9 Failed understand how he does that, note the moments are to be found. In 10 Moving Canvas celestial rush of strings that eddies the days of The Jam and The 11 In Better Times around Weller’s vocals on “Glad Style Council, when Weller 12 Still Glides Times” and “That Pleasure”. Both wanted to find a means of The Stream arrangements by fêted electronic imparting spiritual uplift expeditionary Hannah Peel confer with gospel directness, he Produced by: Paul upon these songs a sense of wonder had to borrow songs by other Weller, Jan “Stan” that propels them beyond their singers – “Move On Up”, Kybert; additional constituent parts. If Weller likes your “Promised Land” – to do production by Charles Rees new record, you’ll soon know about it. Not any more. “Can see Recorded at: Black it because there’s every chance he’ll the good things in your life?” Barn Studios, Surrey invite you to do something on his. If he asks on “Cobweb / Connections”, Personnel includes: you’re listening to the album’s second as a sweet holding pattern of acoustic Paul Weller (vocals, song, “True”, for the first time, you’re downstrokes and handclaps is blown backing vocals, likely also receiving your introduction into the blue by a chorus that beseeches guitar, keyboards, to Lia Metcalfe of Liverpool trio The its audience to revel in the miracle of percussion), Steve Mysterines. That’s Weller’s daughter their own consciousness. On “In Better Cradock (guitar), Leah on “Shades Of Blue”, who, with Times”, he’s the paternal confidant, Ben Gordelier (drums, percussion), her own solo debut out shortly, seems trying to make his own experiences Steve Pilgrim to have been as productive as her dad meaningful to a lost young soul whose (drums, percussion), during lockdown. own lack of them has cast them adrift: Andy Crofts (bass), And here, as with every album since “What you need is to see/It’s OK to be Hannah Peel (string Wake Up The Nation, is engineer and yourself/And that with belief/The world arrangements), co-producer Jan “Stan” Kybert. As will do the rest.” He gets to the final verse Andy Fairweatherresident de-clutterer of Weller’s soundwithout shedding a tear. You might not. Low (vocals, guitar world of some 10 years’ standing, it Would the teenage Weller have on “Testify”), Lia baulked at the sunny universality Metcalfe (vocals on seems to be Kybert’s presence that “True”), Leah Weller allows Weller to blur the boundary that beams out from so much of Fat Pop? (backing vocals on between experimentalism and Possibly, but then so would many of his “Shades Of Blue”) enthusiasm without losing sight of the fans in their younger years. The sense ultimate objective: to make something that these are truths earned merely that scratches the same itch that first by turning up to the job of being alive propelled him and his audience into a record shop. on the bad days as well as the good is the heat This is why he’ll never make the big legacy album source of so many of Fat Pop’s greatest moments. or reform his previous bands. To keep that hunger To listen to “Glad Times” is to be reminded in an alive, you need to feed it with new inspirations. instant that he’s long since found the expressive What you can hear on Fat Pop is the reciprocation tools to become the thing he once admired from of that care. As some promising young songwriter afar. Listen to the way Weller sings, “We go for once put it, “What you give is what you get”. That days without a word/Without a kiss/Both looking was the theory – 41 years later, here’s the proof. for something that we missed”, and it’s no stretch

HOW TO BUY...

ORE MODERN CLASSICS

ee albums that sit at the cosmic fringes of Weller’s Fat Pop cosmos

BOBBY WOMACK

TheBravestManInThe Universe SANDRAVIJANDI

XL, 2012

There are certainly accidental yet notable parallels between much of Fat Pop (Volume 1) and Womack’s Damon Albarn-helmed swansong: a classic soul album that references the past without ever seeking to recreate it. 9/10 18 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

GALLIANO

TUNNG

TALKIN’ LOUD, 1994

FULLTIME HOBBY, 2018

The Plot Thickens As an honorary member of the Acid Jazz gang, the Modfather will no doubt remember Galliano, featuring ex-Councillor Mick Talbot, whose outward facing cosmic funk presaged the cosmic equanimity detectable on many Weller albums, including this one. 7/10

Songs You Make At Night The sense that between a studio and the imaginations of its owners, anything is achievable is common in post-22 Dreams Weller, and it’s abundant in the most recent opus by Mike Lindsay’s ever mutating collective. 9/10


NEW ALBUMS Loads of people used it as an opportunity to learn Spanish. How about you?

Un poco. A little. Um… no. I just did loads of music. I worked on a solo album by [Weller band drummer] Steve Pilgrim.

The title track of Fat Pop feels like something of a manifesto.

Paul Weller talks online opinions, nature in bloom and his right honourable friends

The first song to be released from the album was “Cosmic Fringes”. You’re assuming a distinct persona in it?

Yes, it’s an invented a character. It’s about how everyone seems to have some mad little opinion when they’re on the internet and their opinion is so important, you know. It’s a little silly camp song. We’ve had a great remix done by the Pet Shop Boys. I thought they’d do a great job on it. I could hear what they would do and they did exactly that but even better. It’s a 12-minute monster! Hopefully it’ll come out on vinyl over the summer. One side will be the Pet Shop Boys remix and, for the other, we got Andrew Innes and Jagz [Kooner, Sabres Of Paradise] to remix it.

Thisalbumjustseemsto havefallenoutofyou.

Well, it wasn’t like starting with a blank page. I had maybe four or five songs that I started after we finished On Sunset. They were close to finished. And the rest I wrote around this time last year. But I wouldn’t say it “fell out” of me. It’s not that easy…

Perhaps‘easy’isn’ttheright word,butitseemstohavebeen quick.It’scertainlynotlikeyou’re TearsForFears,spendingsix weekstryingtoperfecta snarepart.

Thank fuck, mate; we wouldn’t be having this conversation otherwise. I’ve always got loads of little ideas on my phone, so it usually starts there. I have trouble sleeping. Like this morning, I didn’t actually get to sleep until 6am. It’s not even like I’m fucking partying or anything these days. I just can’t sleep. But the upside of that is that a lot of my stuff comes at that time of night, mainly ’cos everyone’s gone to bed, so it’s a nice quiet time.

Elton John said that he used the lockdown to spend more time with his kids. Did you do the same?

“I don’t overthink things. We just get our hands dirty and see what happens”

Whatwouldithavebeenlikefor youifyoudidn’thaverecourseto astudiothroughoutthistime? I’d probably be in a padded cell. I’ve no idea. I mean, perhaps I make it sound easier than it is. The songwriting part of it still involves an awful lot of finessing and chipping away.

WouldUncutreadersbe surprisedbywhattheysaw iftheywereaflyonthewall atBlackBarnStudio?

We just work. And sometimes it look like we’re not working because there a lot of sitting around drinking tea a well. But that’s all part of it. We just graft, man.

Andy Fairweather Low – “a brilliant geezer”

[Laughs] I did the record so I could get away and have a fucking break! But I think I used it wisely as well, you know? Actually, I have to say, I really enjoyed the first lockdown. For the first time ever, you couldn’t do anything, so you didn’t uilty, and the as amazing and no aeroplanes. as in full bloom irds were When humans , nature reclaims t’s what would we disappeared t’s us that’s g it all up.

The roll-call of guests is a nice blend of boyhood heroes, younger musicians and the occasional family member.

Yeah, that’s my daughter Leah on “Shades Of Blue”. I was struggling to find a melody and lyric for the chorus on that one, so we had a family get-together in the kitchen at Black Barn. The chorus came pretty quick and we recorded it the next day. I don’t really overthink these things. We just get our hands dirty and see what happens.

And Hannah Peel?

She’s a genius, mate. A special talent.

Andy Fairweather Low, now 72, shares the spotlight on “Testify”.

I knew Andy anyway. He’s come to our gigs every time we played Cardiff and he did “If Paradise (Is Half As Nice)” [his hit with Amen Corner] with us one time, which was fucking amazing, and he’s a brilliant geezer. I’d initially tried to write something with Betty Davis and that didn’t happen, but I still loved the backing track. Then me and Andy did a charity show in Guildford and after that I sent him the track. He came down and we did the vocal in a couple of hours. With people like Andy, Steve Ellis [of The Love Affair] and Andy Bown [of The Herd, now with Status Quo], to have them as friends is an honour, ’cos I remember being that 10-year-old watching Top Of The Pops, seeing all those cats. For me to know them now, it’s still mind-blowing. Who could have told that 10-year-old in 1968 that he’d be hanging out with them all these years later? INTERVIEW:PETE PAPHIDES JUNE 2021 • UNCUT •19

SANDRA VIJANDI, RB/REDFERNS

Q&A

We started with the backing track, which Stan [Kybert] put together at his place. I jammed over that and then Stan would cut it up and rearrange some of those bits so it was almost like we were sampling ourselves. I liked the feel of it. It reminded me of ’90s West Coast hip-hop and DJ Muggs. It’s just an ode to music really – about how music has shaped us and defined us and educated us and entertained us, how it’s changed our worlds. I’m still enthralled by pop and the way that it affects us. It’s a window to a whole way of understanding your life. And I really do think it’s undervalued, especially with streaming, and Tory ministers telling people in the arts that they should retrain. The arts have given us all so much. Take that away and what even are we? Music and art elevates us, so I think it should be held in more esteem.


NEW ALBUMS

ST VINCENT Daddy’s Home PHOTO: ZACKERY MICHAEL, STYLING BY: AVIGAIL COLLINS, HAIR BY: PAMELA NEAL, MAKE UP BY: HINAKO NISHIGUCHI

LOMAVISTA

8/10 Annie Clark makes herself known. By Laura Barton

A

T last year’s Sundance, Annie Clark and Carrie Brownstein premiered a mockumentary they named The Nowhere Inn. Playing augmented versions of themselves, the film cast Brownstein as a director trying to make a documentary that will reconcile Clark’s day-to-day self with her untouchable onstage 20 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

persona, St Vincent. When the quotidian proves a little humdrum, the Clark character decides to heighten her St Vincentness for the sake of the movie, growing ever more spectacular, concocted and elusive. “I know who I am,” she notes. “What does it matter if anyone else does?” The unknowability of St Vincent has provided much of her intrigue and also her appeal over the course of five albums (and one collaboration with David Byrne). Yes, there were Grammys, accolades, albums of the year, but the essential question of who really lay beneath the veneer has hovered over much of her career. Accordingly, the vocabulary used

to describe Clark and her music has often suggested cleverness rather than emotional heft: arch, meta, provocative; complex, mischievous, ambitious. Critics described her work as if viewed behind glass, and at a distance. The great surprise of Clark’s sixth album, Daddy’s Home, is its sense of proximity. These are songs that, long after first listen, you find under your fingernails, and scenting your jacket. “Gritty. Grimy. Sleazy,” as she puts it, their lyrics filled with characters wearing “last night’s heels on the morning train,” or turning up “at the holiday party red wine-lipped a little early,” carrying a Gucci purse like “a pharmacy.”


NEW ALBUMS Clark has told how these songs were inspired by “music made in New York between 1971-1975” – a specificity of both time-frame and geography that might seem little more than an exercise in genre-dabbling, were the reason for the inspiration not so devastating. Two winters ago her father was released from prison, having served time for his part in a multi-million-dollar stock manipulation scheme. Clark began writing this new collection of songs at that time, “closing a loop on a journey that began with his incarceration in 2010.” Her father’s imprisonment and subsequent release had, she explained, led her back to the vinyl he introduced her to in childhood. Records she believes she has “probably listened to more than any other music” in her entire life. At points, Daddy’s Home can sound like a distant turn through a long-ago radio dial – half-heard flickers of halfremembered songs: “Pay Your Way In Pain”’s echoes of Bowie’s “Fame”, for instance, while “My Baby Wants a Baby” leans heavily on Sheena Easton’s 1980 release “9-5 (Morning Train)”. Throughout, the vocals of Lynne Fiddmont and Kenya Hathaway bob up like Thunderthighs backing Lou Reed. The effect is not so much musical impersonation, but rather something more immersive; a plunge into the singer’s personal memory bank, a tangible, sensuous experience. The melding of saxophone, synths, Wurlitzer, horns, the extraordinary angles of Clark’s guitar, the stretch and snap of her voice, bring a sense of city heat: they press against your skin and wind round your legs, sultry and thirsty and fevered. Between them, three ‘Humming Interludes’ hang like a haze. Much of Masseduction felt like a lost, lustful examination of inner emptiness – “the void is back and I’m blinking” as she memorably put it on “Hang On Me”. Daddy’s Home suggests a richer inner life, charged with internal desires: “Where can you run when the outlaw’s inside you?” she asks on the title track. “I can’t live in the dream,” she notes elsewhere. “The dream lives in me.”

The great surprise here is the album’s sense of proximity There are a lot of trapped people on this record, whether that is the incarcerated (the jelly-legged cabaret of the title track addresses her father’s jail time head-on), or those wanting to flee from a relationship (“You make a home I run away and the story starts again,” she sings on “My Baby Wants A Baby”), or the caged bird of “Candy Darling”. Others still explore all the ways we try to set ourselves free: pharmaceuticals, liquor, crashed cars, bodega roses, suicidal ideation. The result is something close, dark and airless. And yet there is a deep and buoyant beauty here too: the combination of Clark’s voice, feathered and sweet, against surges of brass on “…At The Holiday Party”, for instance. The drowsy, inebriated drift of “Live In The Dream”. And throughout, the warm, buffering presence of Fiddmont and Hathaway. On previous records, Clark’s tales were told in a manner that was brittle and upright and shiny; here she sounds to have loosened her grip: the edges are softer, the layers are denser, the mood a little more mañana. It would be wrong to mistake sonic warmth for knowability. Wrong, too, to suppose that these songs are any less rigidly devised and constructed. And yet, listening to Daddy’s Home brings a sense of exhalation, a filling out, an openness, that is as unexpected as it is wonderful. Yes she’s still arch and meta and provocative, still complex and mischievous and ambitious. But on this record, Annie Clark seems to stand just a little closer.

SLEEVE NOTES 1 Pay Your Way In Pain 2 Down And Out Downtown 3 Daddy’s Home 4Live In The Dream 5 The Melting Of The Sun 6 The Laughing Man 7 Down 8SomebodyLikeMe 9 My Baby Wants A Baby 10 ...At The Holiday Party 11 Candy Darling 12New York Producedby: Annie Clark and Jack Antonoff Recorded at: Electric Lady Studios, New York; Rough Customer Studios, Brooklyn; Conway Recording Studios, Los Angeles Personnel:Annie Clark (vocals, guitar, lap steel, sitar, modular synth), Jack Antonoff (drums, percussion, bass, synths, Mellotron, Wurlitzer, guitar, background vocals), Thomas Bartlett (piano, Wurlitzer), Cian Riordan (drums), Lynne Fiddmont, Kenya Hathaway (background vocals), Evan Smith (saxophones, clarinet, flute, guitar, synths), Sam KS (drums, congas), Patrick Kelly (bass), Greg Leisz (pedal steel), Daniel Hart (violin), Michael Leonhard (horns)

Q&A

St Vincent: “No matter what hardships come,

you just have to keep humming”

This album is closely connected to your relationship with your father. Could yousaya little about that? My father, like most Irish Catholicmen

of a certain generation, wasn’t effusive with affectionor praise. The way he showed his affection was byeither toughening us up – exercise and sports – or showingus films, books, music he loved. And I don’t know if itisnature or nurture, but I have a similar love of humour, ideas,arts.

These songs began with your father’s record collection. Are any records tethered toparticular moments? Every Steely Dan record. I rememberdriving to Corpus Christi, Texas, on a beach vacation. Eatingfried clams while looking at an amateur version of Botticelli’s The Birth Of Venus and then listening to Katy Liedon the way back to our geriatric condo. The balmyair.

Thehazytaillights.ThesmelloftheGulfofMexicointheair.

Muchofthatrecordcollectionwasmadeup ofmusicmadeinNewYork.Howdidthatshape yourideaofthecity? NewYorkisaplaceandanideaof

aplace,likeJohnBergerwritesinWaysOfSeeing.Growing up,NewYorkwastheplaceIwasalwaysgoingtogotofind thelifeIjustknewwasouttheresomewhere.Dependingon theperson,NewYorkistheirMecca,theirpurgatory,their lover/tormenter.Itwasallofthesethingstome.

Wheredidtheideaforthealbum’s‘Humming Interludes’comefrom? Mymotherhumsconstantly.

AtsomepointIthought,myGod,ifonlyIhadamicnextto hermywholelife,imaginetheaccidentalsymphoniesshe’s writtenforthewind.Butitalsosymbolisesacertainkind offemininestrengththatmymother,morethananyone Iknow,embodies.Nomatterwhathardshipscome,youjust havetokeephumming. INTERVIEW:LAURABARTON

AtoZ This month… P22 P23 P25 P26 P28 P30 P31 P32

MDOU MOCTAR THE BLACK KEYS JUDY COLLINS TONY JOE WHITE VAN MORRISON SONS OF KEMET GRUFF RHYS DOROTHEA PAAS

TONY ALLEN

ThereIsNoEnd DECCAFRANCE

7/10

Drumgreat’sposthumous Afro-rapsummit After returning to his jazz and Afrobeat roots with 2017’s Blue Note slow-burner The Source, Tony Allen spent the months before his sudden death in 2020 immersed in hip-hop, searching for subterranean, diasporic beat connections to take forward with young rappers. The DNA strands tying bop, Afrobeat, jungle and funk mean Allen’s steady, minimal jitter philosophically and rhythmically fits with a dozen resistant voices, 40 years after Fela, flickering beneath Sampa The Great’s taunting slur and, on rubbery highlight “Cosmosis”, Ben Okri, Damon Albarn and Skepta, Allen engaged and inherent in the present ’til the last beat. NICK HASTED

DANIEL BACHMAN Axacan THREELOBED

8/10

Immersivejourneysfromthe AmericanPrimitivist A step forward from 2018’s The Morning Star, Axacan finds the Virginian exploring new contexts for his Primitive American guitar music. His touchstones here are less Jack Rose – to whom he has often been compared – and more the natural world. Across its 11 tracks, Axacan deftly blends Bachman’s playing with field recordings, everything from church bells to detuned radios. Occasionally, as on the expansive 17-minute “Blue Ocean O”, these soundscapes swell to include a harmonium, waves and the wind. It is deeply personal too – “Ferry Farm” is named after his family’s homestead, whose origins extend back to the Civil War. The music is being made now, but evidently its roots run deep, into the earth and deep into the past. MICHAEL BONNER

JUNE 2021 • UNCUT •21


“Why is this happening”: Mdou Moctar (second right) and his band

MDOU MOCTAR Afrique Victime MATADOR

9/10

WH MOUSTAPHA

Mesmerising meld of Tuareg folk tradition and modern rock. By Sharon O’Connell WHAT’S known as “desert blues” by western music consumers clearly has a history aeons older than Tinariwen – but it’s fair to say that the sound was popularised by their second album, 2004’s Amassakoul, a hybrid of assouf and electric rock. If the Malian band have become the style’s leading ambassadors, they’re by no means its sole representatives: Songhoy Blues, Imarhan, Tamikrest and Kel Assouf each have their own identity and are some of the names now well established outside Africa. Mdou Moctar, maybe less so. The songwriter and guitarist, born Mahamadou Souleymane, is from Agadez, a desert city in central Niger, and has four studio albums proper and one movie soundtrack (all on US label Sahel Sounds) under his belt, plus a live record for Third Man. He also has an interesting backstory, which has perhaps been advanced at the expense of his music: Moctar built his first guitar and taught himself to play; his early recordings became popular on Africa’s mobile MP3-sharing networks; he also wrote and starred in the first Tuareg-language film, a homage to Purple Rain that told his own life story. However, that emphasis should shift with Afrique Victime. An exhilarating band set that mixes electric and acoustic instrumentation, it’s at once fiercely modern and as ancient as the Niger river. As with previous albums, 22 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

SLEEVE NOTES 1 Chismiten 2 Taliat 3 Ya Habibti 4 Tala Tannam 5 Untitled 6 Asdikte Akal 7Layla 8 Afrique Victime 9Bismilahi Atagah Producedby: Michael Coltun Recorded at: Electric Monkey, Amsterdam; Lofty Sky Boat, Three Oaks, Michigan; Mant Sounds, Los Angeles; Studio Moustique, NYC; various locations, Niger Personnel: Mahamadou Souleymane (guitar, vocals), Ahmoudou Madassane (guitar), Michael Coltun (bass), Souleymane Ibrahim (drums)

its roots are in the country’s takamba style, which is played on the tahardent (three-stringed lute) and calabash, and is popular at weddings. But on Afrique Victime, ’70s psych and ’80s rock are defining elements, with wild solos a foil for hypnotic contemplation. It leans on the seemingly intuitive interplay between Moctar’s lead shredding – of a gutsy yet fluid kind that recalls Van Halen, Prince and fellow lefty Hendrix – and the vital pulses of his long-serving rhythm guitarist, Ahmoudou Madassane. Mikey Coltun – a musician from New York who’s played bass with Moctar for about three years and has also served in Steve Gunn’s band – produces. Songs were recorded while the group were on tour in 2019 promoting Ilana: The Creator, in various hotel rooms, apartments, backstage at venues, in Coltun’s mobile unit (Studio Moustique) and in the field in Niger, although the main tracking was done in studios in the US and Netherlands. The album opens with “Chismiten”, a rooster’s crow and the crunch of footsteps signalling a new day before Moctar’s guitar rings out, clean, steel-tipped and sonorous. On a whooped cue, rolling drums and polyrhythmic string currents

Mdou Moctar: “I’m always curious to try new things” Doyoufeelakinship withTinariwenand Imarhanetal? Yes,

ofcourse–weareall Tuareg.Tuaregsareatight communityandIlovealltheir music.Musically,though,we aredifferent.Sometimesthe guitar-playingissimilarbut othertimesIplayrockmusic, whichisnotalwayswhatthe othergroupsplay.

Whichguitaristsmost inspiredyou,earlyon?

rush in and steadily accelerate, until the whole is an exultant tumble of glorious, interlocking harmonies. “Taliat” suggests a vast orchestra of guitars but its yearning choral work and see-sawing sweetness provide a breather, as does the hypnotic, handclap-punctuated “Ya Habibti”. It pays respect to Abdallah Oumbadougou, the late Nigerien guitarist who helped pioneer the Tuareg modernist style. The lyrical ebb and flow of the acoustic “Tala Tannam”, delicately cut across by Moctar’s mercurial guitar lines, is a potent reminder that West Africa is the blues’ deep crucible, while it’s impossible to listen to the mesmeric “Layla” and not think of John Lee Hooker as much as Ali Farka Touré. The album’s showstopper, though, is the title track, seven-and-a-half intoxicating minutes of relentlessly surging rhythms, haunting vocals and muscular shredding that tips its hat to both Page and The Mars Volta’s Omar Rodríguez-López. It packs a powerful lyrical punch too, addressing the urgent need for Africans to stand up and speak out, and questioning why the Tunisian Jasmine Revolution failed to bloom across the continent. The title also speaks to Africa’s status as historically judged by the west. “Africa is a victim of so many crimes”, sings Moctar, whose homeland may be a burgeoning democracy but is also an increasingly troubled part of the Sahel. “If we stay silent it will be the end of us/ Why is this happening?/What is the reason behind this?” The closer is “Bismilahi Atagah”, which strikes a calmer, more dulcet note and makes it especially easy to understand why Matt Sweeney and Bonnie “Prince” Billy asked Moctar to guest on their new Superwolves album. The acoustic fingerpicking, lullaby rhythm and his gentle, multi-tracked vocal are deceptive though – he’s calling on his god to save him from love’s torment. Those introductory footsteps reappear at the end, crunching their way into the distance. But this is the sound of advancement, not retreat. Afrique Victime may be Mdou Moctar’s sixth studio album but, in many ways, he’s just begun.

Q&A AbdallahOumbadougouwas thefirstguitaristIsaw–he is frommyvillage.Iremember seeinghimperform and saying,“Iwanttobe like that guy!”IreallylikeJimi Hendrix becauseoftheway that he dancesonstage; Eddie Van Halenhasthetapping style thatissoimportant to me –it’ssimilartothe tapping wehavehereinNiger, but hehadhisownstyle.

Whatwasyour main intentionwiththe new album? I’malways curious

totrynewthings. This record isamixofallmyalbums

before: you have acoustic, electronic elements and rock. We spent a lot of time touring between Ilana: The Creator and this record, so we were a tighter band.

Is “Afrique Victime” the only explicitly political song here? I think it’s

important to talk about many things on my records. “Afrique Victime” is about politics, but “Tala Tannam” is about love and “Chismiten” is about jealousy. I wanted to have all of those things in the album, not just songs about politics. INTERVIEW: SHARON O’CONNELL


NEW ALBUMS

REVELATIONS

BALMORHEA The Wind

DEUTSCHE GRAMMOPHON

7/10

WYNDHAM WALLACE

CATERINA BARBIERI Fantas Variations EDITIONS MEGO

8/10

Glacialreworkingsof adigitalmonster Barbieri’s 2019 LP Ecstatic Computation album is a thrillingly sequenced expanse – and never more so than on “Fantas”, a 10-minute, Tim Hecker-esque journey through gusting digital space. You can’t tame that kind of climate, only respond to it, and so on this album of reinterpretations, collaborators head out into wilds of their own. Baseck’s “Fantas Hardcore” is a nosebleeding remix but elsewhere, artists such as Walter Zanetti (with busy systems music guitar) and Bendik Giske (saxophone) create pacific and widescreen views. Particularly stirring are Evelyn Saylor’s Voix Bulgares-style treatment and that of Barbieri’s pal Kali Malone, who gives thetune atwo-organ arrangement that suggests a gathering storm that may or may not pass. JOHN ROBINSON

T BEAR

FreshBearTracks QUARTOVALLEY

7/10

Long-overduereturnofablueshuedmaverick Richard T Bear’s first album in quarter of a century finds him effortlessly reconnecting with the soulful blues-rock of his best work, aided and abetted by a few famous friends. Stephen Stills contributes slick licks and sparkling harmonies to “Give It Up” (which he also co-wrote), and Edgar Winter,

THE BLACK KEYS DeltaKream NONESUCH 8/10

MATTBERRY

…on a psychedelic trip with “lots of things going on”

“P

eople used to think, ‘Well, it looks old, it must be shit,’” says Matt Berry of his collection of vintage equipment, much of which he picked up “back in the ’90s for, like, 100 quid, because there was absolutely no interest in them”. Period tech such as Farfisa and Hammond organs, Minimoog and Arp 2600 synthesisers, a Wurlitzer electric piano and, of course, the mighty Mellotron, feature alongside more organic sounds on his ambitious new song cycle, The Blue Elephant. They help colour a record that spins giddily across everything from David Axelrod-style symphonic psychedelia to glam rock, R&B, space pop

and soundtrack exotica. Although his profile is still higher in the world of TV comedy (he stars in series such as Toast Of London), Berry’s stock as a prolific, idiosyncratic singer-songwriter keeps rising thanks to records like this and the folk-pop vignettes of last year’s Phantom Birds. “This time I wanted to do something more flamboyant,” he explains, “with lots of things going on.” It’s the latest of eight studio albums he’s made since signing to Acid Jazz 10 years ago, and another is already in the pipeline. “I’m always writing something,” he explains. “And it’ll probably be pretty different to this. Each album is a reaction to the last.” JOHNNY SHARP

Robby Krieger and Benmont Tench make their presence felt elsewhere across these 12 tracks. The spoken vocals on the dreamlike “Wonderland” recall Johnny Cash, but for the most part Bear’s voiceis tough andtestifying, especially effective on the streetwise narrative accompanying the noir jazz of “Cab Calloway”. TERRYSTAUNTON

On Me”. Meanwhile, “Last Farewell” revisits the bereavement as a piece of reportage, from the moment she received the news just as Wild Bells were about to go on stage at Radio City Music Hall. How do you follow that? With Mercy; a remarkable act of spiritual resilience. MICHAEL BONNER

NATALIE BERGMAN

TheBlueElephant ACIDJAZZ

Mercy THIRDMAN 8/10

Chicagoancountersfamilytragedy withspiritaluplift Finding solace through music, Natalie Bergman’s solo debut is a response to personal tragedy: the sudden deaths of her father and stepmother. As with the most effective devotional music, Mercy finds a way of artfully parsing uplifting, spiritually nourishing music with deep, sorrowful emotion. The result shifts between the Afrobeat rhythms of “I Will Praise You” – where Bergman asks Jesus to “help me understand” – to the ’60s pop of “Paint The Rain” and the gospelmeets-soul swoon of “Shine Your Light

MATT BERRY 8/10

Instrument-hoppingsingingactor takesaheadytrip Performance schedules haven’t been jam-packed for actors or musicians recently, and Matt Berry, who wears both hats, has clearly taken advantage. This new studio album follows just 10 months after last summer’s neatly turned folk-pop collection Phantom Birds, but by contrast The Blue Elephant is a sonic odyssey, created by Berry on such a rich variety of vintage instruments that it sounds like he’s been crate-digging in his head for exotic psychedelic sounds. Beat-pop bangers such as “Summer Sun” and the lysergic boogie of “Blues

Yes,sir!AuerbachandCarneypay itbacktoKimbroughandRL Big as they’ve become, The Black Keys have never sounded better than on Chulahoma, their modest minialbum of Junior Kimbrough covers from 15 years ago. It could be that after the stadium blues, hip-hop experiments and inevitable hiatus, the band have come to think so too. Recorded with former RL Burnside guitarist Kenny Brown and bassist Eric Deaton, this revisits raw and mesmerising RL Burnside and Kimbrough “juke” numbers such as “Stay All Night”, alongside some more widely known blues like “Crawling Kingsnake”. You can’t turn the clock back, of course, but in “Sad Days And Lonely Nights” you completely understand how the simple groove and ringing of the strings might act as a revivifying tonic. JOHN ROBINSON

BLACK MIDI

Cavalcade ROUGHTRADE 9/10

Experimentalbuzzbandcontinue tosurpriseandconfoundon secondalbum The opening “John L” picks up where Black Midi left off on 2019’s Schlagenheim: a skittish assault of guitars, taut drums and a sense of explosive chaos that comes when you throw seemingly all genres together. However, what soon unfolds proves to be a profound evolution via the almost operatic crescendo that follows. Over the remaining five tracks, improvisational noise-rock gives way to more considered and structured songwriting, lush melodies and singer Geordie Greep’s new vocal style – which he croons with stirring tenderness. From the expansive jazztinged post-rock of “Diamond Stuff” to the post-punk funk of “Dethroned”, there’s not a single predictable second to be found on Cavalcade. DANIELDYLANWRAY

BlackMidi: unpredictable JUNE 2021 • UNCUT • 23

BENMEADOWS, YISKID

Texanduoblowupaquiet instrumentalstorm Rob Lowe and Michael Muller’s relocation to the ‘yellow label’ doesn’t entail a wholesale embrace of ‘new classical’, but after recording in his Berlin Funkhaus studio comparisons to Nils Frahm are inevitable. Fortunately, the felted piano strings of “Evening” and minimalist arrangement of “Night Falls In Your Left” sound appealingly familiar, and All Melody’s pipe organ adds welcome texture to the intro of “Rose In Abstract”. Still, like William Tyler playing Jim O’Rourke’s Bad Timing, “Landlessness” highlights the pair’s Texan roots, while rising German star Lisa Morgenstern’s ethereal, octavespanning voice adds welcome light to the sombre acoustic guitars and orchestration on “The Myth”.

Inside Me” are outnumbered by head-swimming instrumental trips, punctuated by backmasked vocals, sweetly intoxicating organ, Mellotron woodwind and strings. He probably needs to get out more – but you’ll be glad he hasn’t. JOHNNYSHARP


NEW ALBUMS

AMERICANA An eventful emotional journey

JOHN HIATT WITH THE JERRY DOUGLAS BAND Leftover Feelings

NEW WEST

8/10 Nashville veterans in scintillating form REMARKABLY, given their long shadows and proximity to one another around Nashville, good friends John Hiatt and Jerry Douglas had never recorded together until now. They chose to mark the occasion in style by commandeering RCA’s fabled Studio B – birthplace of the late-’50s Nashville Sound and once home to Elvis, Dolly, the Everlys, Roy Orbison and more. The place is referenced, by way of Waylon Jennings, in the evocative “The Music Is Hot”, a love letter to the sounds of Hiatt’s formative years. But Leftover Feelings travels deeper and wider through his psyche, taking us through a whole spectrum of emotion. Douglas and his rootsy band prove ideal companions, seasoning these discerning songs with well-judged doses of violin, lap steel and, of course, Douglas’s trademark dobro. Hiatt and co are at their most playful on the spirited “Keen Rambler” and “Long Black Electric Cadillac”. The latter, an eco-charged upgrade on

the models of rock’n’roll legend, is a countrybilly frolic with real zip. And the playful electric blues of “Little Goodnight”, first cut by Hiatt in the early ’90s, turns as choppy as its protagonists’ dizzying experience of parenthood. At other times, Hiatt gets more directly personal. “Mississippi Phone Booth” alludes to the tipping point of his boozing and drugging days, stuck on the end of a line, looking for some kind of human contact. Similarly, the selfadmonishing “Buddy Boy” – “You can’t drink yourself out of this one/You’re gonna need some help” – feels like a page ripped from a diary. Most moving of all is “Light Of The Burning Sun”, which details the suicide of his older brother, aged just 21, and the trauma that subsequently tore Hiatt’s family apart. “Shook the life out of us all”, he sings, over gentle acoustic guitar and Christian Sedelmyer’s mournful violin. At 68, Hiatt is producing some of the best work of his career, mapping his inner life with an eloquence that most can only aspire to. ROB HUGHES

PATRICK SHEEHAN

AMERICANA ROUND-UP In the summer of 2014, Jason Isbell reunited with Patterson Hood and Mike Cooley, his former bandmates in Drive-By Truckers, for an in-the-round show at Muscle Shoals in Alabama. The resulting Live At The Shoals Theatre is finally due out at the beginning of June, issued as an indie exclusive 4LP boxset. Among the treasures are acoustic versions of Isbell-era Truckers favourites “Zip City” and “Heathens”. Marty Stuart’s slow-release plan for new digital album Songs I Sing In The Dark involves dishing out one song per month, accompanied by Drive-By Truckers a statement explaining his choice. The proposed list of 20, recorded acoustically at home just outside Nashville, begins with Allen Reynolds’ “Ready For The Times To Get 24•UNCUT•JUNE2021

Better”, once a hit for Crystal Gayle. “The [album] title tells the story,” says Stuart. “I have a long line of songs that range from obscure originals to old favourites from various musical worlds that I often sing to myself when I’m alone… As the pandemic raged on, ‘Ready For The Times To Get Better’ became my personal theme song.” Turner Cody may be affiliated with New York’s anti-folk scene of the new millennium but he fully embraces his inner cowboy on Friends In High Places CAPITANE . Billed as

Turner Cody And The Soldiers Of Love, with

Belgian singer-songwriter Nicolas Michaux and his band, it’s a record sustained by the spirit of ’70s American folk and country. ROBHUGHES

BLACK TWIG PICKERS Friend’s Peace VHF

7/10

Oldnewbluesandfolkbylong-running Americanquartet Black Twig Pickers are a curious proposition, coming out of psychedelia and experimentation – Mike Gangloff and Nathan Bowles are members of Virginia’s drone-dream lifers Pelt – and tracing threads between that music and old-timey songs. Friend’s Peace is one of their strongest albums; the sound is rough and rangy, the quartet having an almost preternatural ability to render their songs as both archaeological and alive. There’s plenty of tough beauty to find here – see the swirling, energetic strings of “False Knight On The Road”, the wheezing melancholy of “Cara’s Waltz”, or the tendrils of melody weaving around closer “Dan Friend’s Piece”. JON DALE

THE CHILLS Scatterbrain FIRE

8/10

TheNewZealanders’secondact continuestodelight There have been few more heartening subplots in recent rock history than the renaissance enjoyed by The Chills. The Kiwi dreampop pathfinders languished in cultish obscurity throughout the 1980s and ’90s, then went quiet for decades. But Scatterbrain is The Chills’ third album in six years and, like its immediate predecessors a worthy addition to a glorious canon. As demonstrated by “Caught In My Eye”, Martin Phillipps’ mastery of the plaintive devotional hasn’t wavered since “Wet Blanket”, “Little Alien” is a gorgeously melancholic descendant of “Pink Frost”, and “Safe And Sound” is, in its downplayed, deadpan fashion, Phillipps’ most exultant anthem since “Heavenly Pop Hit”. ANDREW MUELLER

CONRAD CLIPPER

Heron’s Book Of Dreams LUAU

6/10

EnigmaticBerlin-basedmusician’s piano-basedmeditations Presumably inspired by horizons broadened while recording in Arizona’s unfinished ‘experimental’ town, Arcosanti, this pseudonymous, former Richard Dawson associate here expands – albeit only subtly – upon his 2016 debut’s minimalist piano pieces. “Say The Name” and “No Peaches For The Foolish Heart” remain truest to his purist roots, while the spartan title track employs coastal field recordings and, atop much of it, like a Max Richter loop, a single, sustained violin note to melancholic effect. It’s “The Coven”’s seven minutes, though, which prove most compelling, sacrificing pianos altogether in favour of the constant, leisurely ebb and flow of string-like synths. WYNDHAM WALLACE


WhiteBird CLEOPATRA

6/10

Songstoaseagull?Newbits(plus hits)fromJudyBlueEyes The missing link between Woody Guthrie and Steven Sondheim, Judy Collins’ ‘teeth and eyes’ style and eclectic tastes hauled the songs of Leonard Cohen and Joni Mitchell deep into the 1960s mainstream. This collection brings together time-served takes of the likes of “Both Sides Now”, Joan Baez’s “Diamonds And Rust” and the Beatles’ “Blackbird” with four new recordings, the 82-year-old’s expansive versions of It’s A Beautiful Day’s “White Bird”, Mitchell’s “Chelsea Morning”, The Byrds’ “Turn Turn Turn” and Randy Newman’s “I Think It’s Going To Rain Today” a portrait of the artist in lockdown. A caged thing for the moment, but watch her fly. JIMWIRTH

ADRIAN CROWLEY

TheWatchfulEyeOfThe Stars CHEMIKALUNDERGROUND 7/10

Maltese-Irishsongwriterspins half-formedstories The songs on Adrian Crowley’s ninth album make great short stories, his rich, poetic baritone – like a gothic Leonard Cohen – leaving you aching for more. Producer John Parish sought to commit Crowley’s first or second takes to tape, trading the chance to flesh out his shut-ins and stowaways for an immediacy akin to waking from a dream. “Northbound Stowaway” has the cadence of an elevated sea shanty, rich strings and rudimentary percussion fleshing out the battered guitar line. Crowley channels the restlessness and freedom of the ocean throughout: the brass on “Underwater Song” like the horn of a ship; a seaside town providing supper and sanctuary on “Bread And Wine”. LISA-MARIEFERLA

CRUMB IceMelt

CRUMBRECORDS

7/10

Brooklynquartetbuildasublime ragbag Led by Lila Ramani, the Brooklyn quartet Crumb fuse indiepsych forms with jazz and electronic flourishes for a glistening second album that lands somewhere between the empyrean vision of Broadcast and the starryeyed pulsating of Tame Impala. Opener “Up & Down” locks into a rippling groove before climbing to a sun-baked pinnacle, engulfing the

listener like a glistening rogue wave, while “Balloon” is a dreamy take on modern soul, pulsing with disco beats, while the understated groove and atmospheric purl of “Trophy” is an aural delight. ERIN OSMON

LANA DEL REY

Chemtrails Over The Country Club POLYDOR

8/10

Singer-songwriter’s Midwestmusings Viewed from afar, the musical realm of Lana Del Rey, honed over seven albums and complete with its own aesthetic, narrative and internal logic, has at times risked straying into caricature – lugubrious tales of desire, small towns, wild-hearted waitresses. Step into that world, however, and it’s hard to resist the sensory impact of these songs. Chemtrails picks up the nostalgic thread of 2019’s Norman Fucking Rockwell!, though here she’s mostly Midwest and more melodic – in Oklahoma for “Tulsa Jesus Freak”, and Lincoln, Nebraska on the beautifully muted “Not All Who Wander Are Lost”. Meanwhile, “White Dress”, with its murmur, breath, squeal, its story of simpler days, hot summer, rock music, tight dresses, is perhaps her finest work to date. LAURA BARTON

TOUMANI DIABATÉ & THE LONDON SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA Korolen WORLD CIRCUIT/BMG 8/10

Koragoesclassical Diabaté is an inveterate collaborator who has lent the sound of his rippling 21-strong kora to records by everyone from Damon Albarn to Björk, but until this recording made at the Barbican in 2008 he had never worked with a western classical orchestra. With Nico Muhly arranging Diabaté’s material as a symphonic score, the meeting of African improvisation and conservatoire discipline is perfectly calibrated as shimmering kora arpeggios are complemented by oboe, flutes and violins. The prevailing mood is one of stately elegance but there are flashes of wit, too, and at one point Diabaté throws in a playful quote from Morricone’s The Good, The Bad And The Ugly score. NIGEL WILLIAMSON Toumani Diabaté, Oslo, 2009

RILEY DOWNING StartItOver NEWWEST

7/10

SolodebutfromtheDeslondes co-frontman Riley Downing has the kind of voice that makes you wonder if you set your turntable to the wrong speed. It’s laconic and almost impossibly low, not always agile but rich in expressive texture – like Johnny Cash with a hangover. His brain, on the other hand, is abuzz with sounds and ideas, which makes his solo debut a thrill. Each song is a wildly different take on country music, from the ’70s outlaw swagger of “Crazy” to the countrypolitan sophistication of the title track. It echoes the rip-roaring diversity of The Deslondes (now on hiatus), but it’s all grounded by that elegantly rough-hewn voice. STEPHEN DEUSNER

FACS

PresentTense TROUBLEINMIND

7/10

Heavyslabsofindustrialpost-punk fromChicagotrio Recalling ’80s-era Swans, the opening “Xout” has a bassline that unfurls in increasingly menacing pulses, before soon being joined by stark but heavy drum thrashes, sheets of guitar noise and muffled vocals. This combination sets the tone for an album that weaves between engulfing postrock soundscapes and crisp industrial post-punk. Although there are sidesteps aplenty, as on the beguiling “Strawberry Cough”, which carefully treads the line between pop-leaning electronic moments and gnarly bursts of gritty noise and glitchy eruptions. Ultimately it’s this balancing between considered atmospheres and rattling noise that gives Present Tense such a sharp bite. DANIELDYLANWRAY

MARIANNE FAITHFULL WITH WARREN ELLIS

SheWalksInBeauty BMG 7/10

19th-centurypoetrysettospacious newsoundscapes English Romantic verse has been part of Faithfull’s life since her teens, which makes She Walks In Beauty, named after the Byron poem, the realisation of a longstanding ambition. At 74, her spoken readings of Keats, Shelley, Wordsworth and others are now imbued with rich personal experience, her imperious tones backlit by Warren Ellis’s meditative ambience. Guests Brian Eno, Nick Cave (on pellucid piano) and cellist Vincent Ségal add further depth to arrangements that

Robert Finley: unsung soulblues master

never intrude, yet are nonetheless striking. What lingers is that vivid voice, as heroically time-worn as the effigy of Shelley’s “Ozymandias”.

ROBHUGHES

ROBERT FINLEY

Sharecropper’sSon EASYEYESOUND

7/10

Louisianasoul-bluesveteran’s autobiographicalthird Raised on a Louisiana crop share, Finley spent years as a semipro performer before making his recording debut aged 63, in 2016. You could say this is the kind of record – produced by Dan Auerbach, who’s also on guitar duty, for his own label – that plays to a revered, even fetishised aesthetic. Equally, that Finley’s story deserves telling and that wider recognition is long overdue. Either way, when, with a band of experienced session hands, he rides the stomp rock of “Make Me Feel Alright”, wraps his soulful falsetto around “I Can Feel Your Pain” or digs into the deep blues boogie of “Country Boy”, his mastery is proven. SHARONO’CONNELL

FLY PAN AM

Frontera CONSTELLATION 7/10

Futuristcrescendosfromelusive Canadianensemble One of the post-rock groups that emerged from Montreal around the turn of the century, Fly Pan Am went quiet for 15 years, returning in 2019 with the smart, krautrock-inflected C’est ça. Frontera suggests they’re on a hot streak. Composed for the 10-strong Montreal modern dance troupe Animals Of Distinction, in ways it conforms to the template of Canadian post-rock – extended instrumentals characterised by gradual builds and ecstatic climaxes. But “Scanner” and “Grid-Wall” explore a sleek, synthetic sound palette, all glitching electronics and halogen synths. Some shocking twists, too: see the shrieked vocals that push “Parkour” to a cacophonous conclusion. LOUIS PATTISON JUNE 2021 • UNCUT • 25

LARS OPSTAD

JUDY COLLINS


l deal: te’s e-bones es are rrected

TONY JOE WHITE Smoke From The Chimney EASY EYE SOUND

8/10

TIMOTHY NORRIS/WIREIMAGE, ALYSSE GAFKJEN

Swamp Fox’s first posthumous LP. By Stephen Deusner “BUBBA JONES” is a strange swamp-rock saga about a man just trying to catch a fish. As story-songs go, there’s not very much to it, but Tony Joe White manages to invest it with some humour and some gravity. Over a bluesy guitar lick and a humid groove, he savours the back-country details, even telling you the brand of reel and the size of the boat, and he makes a meal – an entire feast, actually – out of the burbling syllables “bubbabubbabubbabubba”. What might sound like a low-stakes character sketch instead becomes a study in disappointment and resilience, with White playing an Ahab of the bayou. Even without the sneaking suspicion that the fisherman might be kin to the characters in White’s oft-covered classic “Willie And Laura Mae Jones”, “Bubba Jones” is a worthy addition to this singer-songwriter’s idiosyncratic catalogue, no matter that he never released it during his lifetime. It’s tempting to read something metaphorical into that fisherman’s struggle, as though that large-mouth bass might actually symbolise a hit song or some professional accolade. After all, White’s most notable songs were bigger hits for other artists than they ever were for him: Dusty Springfield recorded “Willie And Laura Mae Jones” in 1969, Brook Benton nearly took “Rainy Night In Georgia” to the top of the pop charts in 1970, and Elvis Presley made “Polk Salad Annie” into a live staple during his final 26 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

tours. Despite his instantly recognisable voice and his facility with details of Southern life, White never enjoyed commercial success commensurate with his talent and eccentricities, but he kept recording and writing and touring until his death in 2018. Today he’s too big to be a cult artist, but not quite mainstream either. “Bubba Jones” was one of countless unreleased songs he left behind, most of them recorded on reel-to-reel with just his voice and acoustic guitar. His son Jody White discovered and digitised them, eventually handing several over to The Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach to flesh out into fully realised tracks. Nine of them have been collected on Smoke From The Chimney, White’s first posthumous release and a stirring portrait of a singular artist. In fact, Jody White had been trying to persuade his father to record with Auerbach for a decade, but Tony Joe was

Dan Auerbach: “He was just so fucking cool”

What was your first exposure to Tony Joe White’s music? It

would have been in my early twenties probably. The first time I heard “Rainy Night In Georgia”, I instantly loved it. It sounded strange to me, like it was chopped and screwed. I met him one time, at a festival in Australia. He let me play his Strat and we talked about Lightnin’ Hopkins.

At what point did you come

SLEEVE NOTES 1Smoke From The Chimney 2 Boot Money 3 Del Rio, You’re Making Me Cry 4 Listen To Your Song 5 Over You 6 Scary Stories 7 Bubba Jones 8 Someone Is Crying 9 Billy Produced by: Dan Auerbach Recorded at: Easy Eye Sound, Nashville Personnel: Tony Joe White (vocals, guitar, harmonica), Dan Auerbach (drums, percussion, gtr, bass, keyboards, chimes), Nick Movshon (bass), Ray Jacildo (keys), Billy Sanford (gtr), Roy Agee (trombone), Tyler Summers (baritone sax), Evan Cobb (alto sax ), Mireya Ramos (backing vocals, fiddle), Shae Fiol (bk vcl), Sam Bacco (drums, perc), Dave Roe (bass), Billy Sanford (gtr, tik-tak), Bobby Wood (keys), Mike Rojas (keys, celeste), Paul Franklin (steel gtr), Stuart Duncan (fiddle), Jimmy Quine, Pat McLaughlin (bk vcl), Matt Combs (strings), Eric Deaton (bass), Gene Chrisman (drums), Marcus King (gtr)

particular about his songs and preferred laying them down at his home studio outside Nashville. The son’s instincts were sharp, as these two artists sound uniquely suited to each other. Both draw from blues and early rock influences, and both emphasise rhythm and propulsion in their songs. Auerbach dreamed up his fantasy session, using a small group of Nashville veterans and virtuosos that included drummer Gene Chrisman (who’s played with Jerry Lee Lewis, among others), keyboardist Bobby Wood (Bobby Womack), and steel guitar player Paul Franklin (George Jones). Jody even hung old photos of his father around the studio – there in spirit if not in body. This makeshift band soundtrack these songs carefully, whether White’s singing about financial struggle on “Boot Money” or asking for a little empathy on “Someone Is Crying”. “Del Rio You’re Making Me Cry” plays like a short film, with Billy Sanford’s graceful gut-string guitar solo evoking the West Texas landscape. Closer “Billy” matches a sobbing pedal steel to a barrelhouse piano, churning up a little sympathy for its beleaguered title character. The players manoeuvre adeptly around White’s deep voice, which can get so low that it barely registers on tape, and they emphasise his emotional range. His physical range is limited, of course, although few singers settle into their limitations as productively. But there’s something wistful and gentle in his delivery on the title track, and the players, especially the duo Flor De Toloache providing backing vocals, work to bolster that sense of nostalgia. There’s not a moment on this album when the session players intrude on the song or on White’s vocal. There’s not a moment when they break the spell or remind you that this is not actually a collaborative record. In other words, it makes you forget, if only for a few minutes, that he wasn’t actually in the studio with them. Instead, they simply let him tell his stories. He even lays out his philosophy of life and music on the standout, “Listen To Your Song”. Over a blazing guitar lick and a swampy backbeat, he ponders the comfort to be found in a favourite tune: “When it seems like you’ll never find your way back home, listen to your song”.

Q&A aboardthisproject? I’veknown his son JodyWhiteforover10years now, and we’ve talked about me doing a record with his dad for that long. It just never worked out. After he passed away, Jody found these reel-to-reel tapes, and he sent me a few songs at a time. I loved how varied they were and started working on them immediately.

Did you have any rules or guidelines for making them

sound like a Tony Joe White record? I used to ask Jody all the

time, ‘What was it about your dad? He was just so fucking cool.’ His answer was, ‘My dad just didn’t give a fuck. He always did what he wanted to do.’ That’s how I approached making this record. I put on whatever I thought might sound nice on these songs, and I picked some musicians I felt would have been absolutely amazing in person with him. INTERVIEW: STEPHEN DEUSNER


NEW ALBUMS IDreamedADream CART/HORSE 8/10

Theguitarist’sguitaristreturnswith ahandfulofgorgeoustunes Tim Foljahn was a fixture in indie rock circles during the ’90s, recording deep blues sets with his group Two Dollar Guitar, or playing with Thurston Moore in Male Slut and Jad Fair in Mosquito and Half Japanese. I Dreamed A Dream takes his songs someplace else, the writing more elegant and refined, the arrangements given greater space to breathe than Foljahn’s oft-claustrophobic earlier albums. But the songs are sly, taking unpredictable turns, the lyrics flickknifing at a moment’s notice, as the melodies mine folksy, Townes Van Zandt-esque terrain. JONDALE

THEFRATELLIS

HalfDrunkUnderAFullMoon COOKINGVINYL

6/10

Glasgowtrio’smiddlingreboot Since 2013’s lacklustre comeback We Need Medicine proved that The Fratellis’ brand of polished pub rock had had its day, the Glasgow three-piece have undergone a stylistic evolution. Long gone are the scuzzy guitars and studied beery chants, in their place immaculate pop production (courtesy of Beck supremo Tony Hoffer), theatrical performances and an array of instrumental colour. A good thing then? It’s variable. The title track, “Need A Little Love” and “Living In The Dark” represent the record’s delirious zeal in excelsis, while other moments, such as the calculated soul of “Six Days In June” or the tame synth pop of “Last Songbird” ring hollow.

GODSPEED YOU! BLACK EMPEROR

G_d’s Pee AT STATE’S END! CONSTELLATION

8/10

FirstinfouryearsfromCanadian avant-rockensemble When Godspeed appeared in the late ’90s, their orchestrated postrock had the vibe of a ragged preacher prophesying apocalypse from a street corner. Now everything’s gone pear-shaped, their music feels all the more like an expression of hope. G_d’s Pee is less reliant on the thunderous quiet-loud crescendos of old. Instead, it finds its sound in glowing electric waltzes, piled high with massed guitars and sawing fiddles, that take up a riff and grind it into extinction. Not to be missed, though, is their skill for softer atmospheres: see “Fire At Static Valley”, a desolate cinematic drone preceded by the rumble of distant thunder. LOUIS PATTISON

GRASSCUT

Overwinter LO RECORDINGS 7/10

Brighton duo’sfourthalbumploughs fertile ground

So Arcadian are Grasscut’s methods that their latest offers a song about fossilized faeces, “Coprolite Tip”, out of whose bubbling synths comes a Moon Shaped Pool-like swirl of murmured vocals, anxious strings and staccatoguitars. It’stypical of their distinctive Englishness, which merges the academic urbanity ofSufjan Stevens with therefined sentimentality of Paddy McAloon, whether in Andrew Phillips’ susurrant vocals or through the serenity of “Courage, Traveller”. Grander orchestral arrangements adorn “The Archive” and“Windfarm”, and there are hints of William Doyle’s cerebral otherworldlinesson “EdgesOf Night”, whose stillness is punctuated by jagged, folksy violins that recall Michael Nyman. WYNDHAMWALLACE

GROWING

Diptych SILVERCURRENT 7/10

Two lengthydrone-basedambient compositionsfromKevinDoriaand Joe DeNardo Formed in Washington state and now based in Brooklyn, Growing have been moving through drone-laden

REVELATIONS

Seek Shelter MEXICAN SUMMER 8/10

Danescontinuepushingbeyond post-punktemplateonfiftheffort Though the Copenhagen firebrands radically expanded their palette to include Bad Seeds-worthy gothic grandeur and brassy Sky Ferreiraassisted fuzz-pop thrills on 2018’s Beyondless, Iceage continue their reinvention on their fifth and first for Mexican Summer. Recorded with Pete “Sonic Boom” Kember in his Lisbon studio, Seek Shelter sees them heartily embrace everything from country and gospel influences in “High & Hurt” and the rabble-rousing title track, to the Madchester dance-rock of “Vendetta”, which comes complete with frontman Elias Bender Rønnenfelt’s approximation of a mush-mouthed Shaun Ryder. As before, the band’s indefatigable brio lends coherence to what could’ve been a series of wildly disparate parts. Indeed, the big swings taken here serve them just as well as the coiled intensity of their first releases.

IKOQWE

MASAYOSHIFUJITA

ICEAGE

BirdAmbience ERASEDTAPES 8/10

STEPHEN DEUSNER

ICEAGE

JASON ANDERSON

ANDREWPRICE

CurioussoundscapesbyaJapanese malletsplayer The vibraphone was Masayoshi Fujita’s instrument of choice on his first three albums but, for Bird Ambience, the Japanese musician’s fourth and most ambitious effort, he switches to marimba, with its curious sustain and a sound like water droplets. It’s only a slight change, but it makes a big difference. Insinuating melodies and motifs rather than stating them outright, his delicate playing creates a unique ambient palette, quiet but intense, especially when he augments that instrument with electronic voices on the title track or with distorted percussion on “Noise Marimba Tape”. Even as it changes shape constantly, Bird Ambience casts a subtle spell.

post-rock, experimental noise, propulsive post-punk and ambient music for two decades. This album features two 20-minute tracks and find Kevin Doria and Joe DeNardo making organ-like drones using their guitars but never sounding as if guitars were involved. Instead they create an almost symphonic sense of grandeur by putting their instruments through effects pedals and samplers to create quietly ecstatic feedback loops that throb very, very slowly – like a onesecond riff that’s been time-stretched to last half an hour. It’s the sonic equivalent of a Douglas Gordon video installation. JOHN LEWIS

Elias Bender Rønnenfelt on his band’s bold moves and new helpmates

I

ceage’s songs have taken some strange turns since the Danes first began venturing beyond the post-punk parameters of their earliest releases. Though incorporating the standard “Will The Circle Be Unbroken?” into their own “High & Hurt” is still one of many surprises on Seek Shelter. “When you’re living inside and along with the process, everything seems oddly logical to you,” says frontman Elias Bender Rønnenfelt of the move. “That was one of those ideas that seemed like something you shouldn’t do, so that’s why it’s all the more alluring.”

Iceage go for it in many more regards on their new album. Rønnenfelt is quick to give producer Sonic Boom credit for its abundance of energy and ideas; the band are huge fans of his work in and out of Spacemen 3. “We weren’t looking for someone to tell us what to do - more a confidant who had ideas and would lend themselves to the process. We synced up really great.” Rønnenfelt praises mixer Shawn Everett (War on Drugs, Alabama Shakes) for his part in Iceage’s leap too. “We pushed through a lot, into this alive and exploding, warm and glittering place.” JASON ANDERSON

The Beginning, The Medium, The End And The Infinite CRAMMED

8/10

Angolanduo’sfreestyleelectronics This record is a lively collaboration between the Angolaborn, Lisbon-based producer Batida, a driving force in the new school of African electronics, and the Angolan rapper Ikonoklasta, best known as political activist Luaty Beirão who was jailed in 2016 for criticising the Angolan regime. “Let’s assume equity must be achieved,” he declares on opener “The Principle”, as he and guests such as Spoek Mathambo mull over neocolonialism, false history and notions of utopia. Batida’s production mixes anthropological recordings from the 1950s with heavy percussion and sci-fi synths, creating a festive mood, particularly on “Vai De C@n@!”, that lends things a delirious atmosphere.

PIERS MARTIN

JUNE 2021 • UNCUT • 27

FRYD FRYDENDAHL

TIM FOLJAHN


NEW ALBUMS INNOV GNAWA Lila DAPTONE 6/10

NewYork’sSufitrancesensation When you take a Brooklyn-out-ofMorocco collective of Islamic Sufis who play the centuries-old ritual trance music of North Africa known as gnawa and record them at Daptone’s famous House Of Soul studio, you expect some trendy post-modern fusion, right? Wrong. This is world music at its must unmediated, recorded live and sounding as authentic as an all-night session in a Marrakech souk. Led by the chants of Hassan Benjaafar, the only accompaniment is the earthy, bass-like twang of the three-stringed guembri and the clanging sound of the metal castanets with which the kouyos (chorus) keep time and pound out clattering rhythms. The results are hypnotic. NIGEL WILLIAMSON

ER JURKEN

IStandCorrected COUNTRYTHYME

8/10

Prodigiousdebutfrom Chicagonewcomer Ed Jurken has left no visible footprint on the face of popular music to date. Unusual, for a songwriter someway into his fourth decade; doubly so, because his debut album sounds like a true feat. I Stand Corrected is a 16-track song-cycle, modest of means but big on vision. “Fanfare” and “Colonels Of The Morning” are lifted by gentle horns orchestrated by sometime Beach Boys collaborator Paul Von Mertens. But mostly it’s Jurken himself, gently strumming a guitar, his spry tenor multi-tracked into playful chorus lines that dangle wry vignettes or pluck at the heartstrings: “Take the medication, take the medication,” he laments on “Let Go The Coat”. LOUIS PATTISON

KUTIMAN

SurfaceCurrents SIYAL

MAXIMILLIAN KINGHORN-MILLS

8/10

Kibbutz-dwellingpolymath championsbackgroundmusic If Ophir Kutiel’s latest departs from the more African-influenced psychedelia of last year’s Wachaga, it’s only to return to the abstract instincts of 2018’s Don’t Hold Onto The Clouds. Kutiman: well equipped

The prolific Israeli riffs on Eno’s ambient titles by calling these three roughly quarter-hour tracks “music for doing things”, and they are indeed soothing without being distracting. But they offer immersive possibilities too: “Coral Blossom” does for piano what Cocteau Twins’ Victorialand did for guitars, while wind blows through the multiple twinkling synths of “Offshore”, and birdsong embellishes the title track’s meandering between rippling pianos and mysterious, kudu horn-like synths. WYNDHAM WALLACE

PAUL McCARTNEY

McCartney III Imagined MPL/UNIVERSAL

7/10

All-starversionsofMacca’s lockdownchart-topper Burdened by expectation as the final instalment of a 50-year solo trilogy, McCartney III turned out to be an agreeable affair that worked very well as a stocking filler. Given the chance to remix it – and who would refuse Sir Paul? – the likes of Khruangbin, St Vincent, Phoebe Bridgers and Josh Homme spice up Macca’s songs in their idiosyncratic fashion, while a few improve the originals. Beck’s psych-funk swagger through “Find My Way” pairs nicely with the new groove Blood Orange gives “Deep Down”, but best of all is 3D from Massive Attack’s headlong plunge into “Deep Deep Feeling” that threads in “Temporary Secretary”’s acid signature. PIERS MARTIN

HOLLY MACVE

Not The Girl MODERN SKY 7/10

Singer-songwritergetsmore ambitiousonhersophomoreeffort Galway-born and Yorkshire-raised, Holly Macve’s 2017 debut Golden Eagle showcased a rather promising singersongwriter with a yodelling delivery pitched somewhere between Patsy Cline and LeAnn Rimes. Where that spartan debut saw Macve largely accompanying herself on acoustic guitar and piano, the arrangements on this belated follow-up are much more ambitious – the slow-burning country rock of “Bird”, the Phil Spector-style drum stomps of “Daddy’s Gone”, the lavish strings on “Little Lonely Heart”, the two-chord fuzz-rock of “Sweet Marie” – but so is Macve’s songwriting, and melodies such as “Be My Friend” and “Who Am I” show that she can go for the Nashville pop jugular. JOHN LEWIS

ASHLEY MONROE Rosegold

MOUNTAINROSE SPARROW/THIRTY TIGERS

7/10

Nashville songwriter and Pistol Annie rings in the new 28 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

I’M NEW HERE

HOLLY MACVE

The singer-songwriter broadens her sound

F

OUR years after her debut, Holly Macve has finally released its follow-up. “The first was a very lonely album,” she says. “A raw, acoustic album. I wasn’t aware of the bigger sound that I could create until I toured and heard my voice in a different context. I wanted to make this album sound more expansive. It was a huge learning curve.” Macve still writes alone but Not The Girl features guests, including co-producer Max Kinghorn-Mills, from Brighton psych-folk band Hollow Hand, and Wirral luminary Bill RyderJones. As well as absorbing the blues and country music that her mother used to play her as a child, Macve was listening to Phil Spector’s productions for

If 2018’s Sparrow signified the end of a certain chapter in Monroe’s life, marked by sorrow and loss, then its follow-up feels like a bold new beginning. The mood here is uplifting and thankful – for family, friends, opportunity – as she mostly forgoes her usual country-folk stylings for something closer to R&B and impressionistic pop. Synths and beats take precedence, with Monroe in particularly alluring form on the aptly titled “Siren” and the buffed Muscle Shoals soul of “The New Me”. But it’s “Flying”, with its sawing violin and luminous strings, that best captures her rapturous reawakening. ROBHUGHES

VAN MORRISON

LatestRecordProject: Volume1 BMG 8/10

Twodiscs,28songs,oddtitle, plentyofanger… Whatever you think of Morrison’s antilockdown campaign, after years of being angry for no obvious reason, the Covid restrictions have at least given him a cause for his indignation. Unable to gig, the songs poured out of him, denouncing what he regards as an assault on our democratic liberties. Titles such as “Where Have All the Rebels Gone”, “The Long Con” and “Big Lie” tell their own story. Yet not all the songs are about lockdown and,

The Shangri-Las and John Lennon, as well as immersing herself in Scott Walker, John Cale, The Velvet Underground and PJ Harvey, while the strings were inspired by Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood. She also befriended Tony Visconti after meeting him at Reeperbahn Festival in Hamburg. One particularly soulbearing lyric here is “Daddy’s Gone”. “That was written on tour in Texas after finding out my dad had died,” she says. “He wasn’t a presence in my life – I last saw him when I was about three years old – and it took me a while to understand my emotions. Sometimes songwriting can be the best way of understanding yourself.” JOHN LEWIS

musically, there’s a renewed vibrancy here too, as Morrison spans blues (“Dead Beat Saturday Night”), gentle balladry (“Psychoanalysts’ Ball”), R&B (“A Few Bars Early”), jazz (“Only A Song”), soul (“Love Should Come With A Warning”) and even the garage rock of Them on “Stop Bitching, Do Something”. Some of his outrage may be misplaced, but it has prompted his most visceral album in years.

NIGEL WILLIAMSON

SARAH NEUFELD Detritus PAPERBAG 7/10

Aspecialkindofdancemusic byArcadeFireviolinist The music on the third solo effort by the Montreal violinist grew out of a collaboration with Canadian dancer and choreographer Peggy Baker. Unsurprisingly, the most spellbinding passages of Detritus boast a fluidity and grace that are keenly suggestive of movement. It’s akin to discerning the traces of mutant disco present even in the most serene music of Arthur Russell, a clear touchstone for the richly layered pieces that Neufeld crafts with the help of friends from Arcade Fire and Bell Orchestre. Yet however dense and turbulent these compositions become – see the nineminute centrepiece “Tumble Down The Undecided” – the clarity and febrile energy of Neufeld’s violin provides a compelling focal point. JASON ANDERSON


SONS OF KEMET

Black To The Future IMPULSE!

8/10

UDOMA JANSSEN

Militant and dancefloorfriendly. By John Lewis THE tuk-band is not one of the Caribbean’s more famous musical exports, but it is a relatively common sight at carnivals around Barbados, the island where Sons Of Kemet leader Shabaka Hutchings spent much of his childhood. It is a marching band featuring snare drums, bass drums and triangles, fronted by one or two flutes playing military-style riffs and melodies. During festivals, tuk-bands are accompanied by dancing costumed figures – the Shaggy Bear, the Donkey Man, a man in drag called Mother Sally, and another man on stilts. What seems like a joyous, celebratory music actually has darker roots – it stems back to the establishment of plantations in the 17th century, when enslaved Africans were banned from using drums for fear they might use them to incite rebellions. So the islanders would imitate British military music, disguising ancient African rituals in a syncretic form that colonial authorities would not take offence at. Over the last decade and four Sons Of Kemet albums, Shabaka Hutchings has taken this obscure Barbadian tradition and delved deep into its history, uncovering its subversive roots and plunging them way into the future, adding touches of dub, calypso and Afrobeat. In the hands of Hutchings, the tuk-band is a barely suppressed howl of rage, a clamorous carnival of protest. Sons Of Kemet’s last album, 2018’s Mercurynominated Your Queen Is A Reptile, was an implicit attack on the notion of royalty, poking fun at the idea that birthright should define class and status. Now Black 30 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

SLEEVE NOTES 1 Field Negus (feat. Joshua Idehen) 2 Pick Up Your Burning Cross (feat. Moor Mother, Angel Bat Dawid) 3 Think Of Home 4 Hustle feat. (Kojey Radical) 5 For The Culture (feat. D Double E) 6 To Never Forget The Source 7 In Remembrance Of Those Fallen 8 Let The Circle Be Unbroken 9 Envision Yourself Levitating 10 Throughout The Madness, Stay Strong 11 Black (feat. Joshua Idehen) Produced by: Shabaka Hutchings and Dilip Harris Recorded at: Livingston Studio 1, Hornsey, London Personnel: Shabaka Hutchings (tenor sax, woodwinds), Theon Cross (tuba), Edward Wakili-Hick (percussion), Tom Skinner (percussion), Steve Williamson (tenor sax), Joshua Idehen (vocals), Angel Bat Dawid, Moor Mother, D Double E, Kojey Radical, Lianne La Havas (vocals)

To The Future chimes with the spirit of the BLM movement that reached a crescendo in summer 2020, but – interestingly – the LP was done and dusted in May 2019. “Black is tired,” sighs the poet Joshua Idehen on the final track, “Black”. “Black would like to make a statement. Black’s eyes are vacant, Black’s arms are leaden, Black’s tongue cannot taste shit.” As the backing music builds into a demented 5/8 chant, his poem gets angrier. “Black demands that no person who is trigger nervous deserves a gun, much less a badge. Black knows that one day its arms will be up, but its shadow will be reaching for something that isn’t there, but that will be enough.” Some of the guest vocalists on this LP approach this level of militancy but, in places, Black To The Future is also poppier and more dancefloor friendly than anything Hutchings has ever released. “Hustle”, featuring a baritone-voice chant from rapper/poet Kojey Radical and sweet backing vocals from Lianne Le Havas, is a one-chord Afrobeat jam that would fit comfortably onto the BBC 1Xtra playlist. “For The Culture” is an upbeat, clattering piece of neo-soca featuring grime MC D Double E and some sweet horn harmonies. On several tracks, like “Throughout The Madness, Stay Strong” and “In Remembrance Of Those Fallen”,

Shabaka Hutchings

on flutes, flow and swing What is the tuk band?

When Sons Of Kemet started, Iused to play the group street bands from Barbados. They are kinda based on military drummers, with syncopated snare drums, and flutes over the top. That was the original impetus for Kemet. It was partly me trying to bring a broader attention to this music from Barbados, but I also thought it was a music that could be expanded upon, to provide the basis for improvisation.

Have you got into flute playing here? I have a

Hutchings also overdubs various flutes and penny whistles to recreate the flute feel of the classic tuk-band, but here the riffs he plays are angular, chromatic, and slightly disorientating. They remind us of the parallels between the tuk-band and other related music from around the African diaspora – in particular those pennywhistle-led mento bands from Jamaica, or the African-American fife-and-drum combos from Mississippi (which sound like weirdly funky Loyalist marching bands). Effectively, Sons Of Kemet reimagines a world in which jazz might have sprung from the Caribbean rather than New Orleans. “Envision Yourself Levitating” is a remarkable example of this – a piece of freaky astral improvisation (featuring fellow tenor saxophonist Kebbi Williams) set to a mournful nyabinghi dub rhythm. It can’t be stressed enough quite how significantly this new generation of British jazz musicians have succeeded in “de-Americanising” jazz. Trained at jazz conservatoires, they know their bebop and swing history backwards, but rarely choose to play in that vernacular. And Hutchings – who actually trained as a classical clarinet player, rather than a jazz saxophonist – is possibly the least American-sounding of the lot. He rarely bends his notes or plays “blues” scales – a staple of US jazz and R&B – instead his solos tend to use the distinctive modal scales you get in Ethiopian music. Sometimes his playing is more like a drummer or a rapper – he will blow percussive, syncopated rhythms based around one or two notes, often tonguing his reed to interlock with the hi-hats. Here his solos tend to be simple, forthright chants, using repetition. There is a curious militancy in his playing, which can be hectoring but also quite rhythmically compelling. It doesn’t demand love or affection. It increases your heart rate and forces you onto the dancefloor. And it’s taking Sons Of Kemet in a direction that is both more militant and more populist.

Q&A collection of tin whistles, recorders and bamboo flutes, which I spend a bit of time playing. There’s quite a lot of them on this album, although there are places where it’s blending in with free-jazz freak out, so you might not recognise them!

How do you react to those who say that Sons Of Kemet don’t “swing”, like a jazz band? For some people

“swing” means a specific rhythm or genre. But, for me, it’s about the way you interact and syncopate with a steady

beat. It’s the concept of pulse that goes beyond jazz into lots of music from Africa and the Caribbean. And, when you go deep into that, you find it connects with hip-hop and grime. When people talk about a rapper like Kendrick Lamar or Little Simz having an amazing flow, I think that means they know how to “swing”. Great rappers, bebop players or African drummers have a sophisticated relationship to the beat. They can keep a sense of bounce. INTERVIEW: JOHN LEWIS


NEW ALBUMS MoreEnergyFields,Current IMAGINATIONALANTHEM

8/10

Iasos-inspiredambientjazz An LA percussionist, Carlos Niño is another composer floating attractively in the space between spiritual jazz, ambient electronica and free improvisation. Accompanied here most notably by keyboard player Jamael Dean and saxophonist Aaron Shaw, there’s an unhurried and light-filled mood to the record: on “Thanking The Earth” the sounds of lapping water give way to a xylophone tune, and open out into a billowing, Pat Metheny-like 1980s soundscape. Of course, you might note the lovely parentheses of “Pleasewake upalittlefaster,please…”, and “Please, Wake Up”, note “DJ” on Nino’s CV and think, well, of course he knows how to set a mood. Really, though, this is environmental music in every sense: beautiful, detailed – and also subject to change. JOHN ROBINSON

OLD SEA BRIGADE

MotivationalSpeaking NETTWERK

8/10

Nashville-basedGeorgiantakesa wreckingballtofolkconventions Stoically sung, sharply written and infectiously propulsive, Ben Cramer’s second LP as Old Sea Brigade is helpfully accompanied by his tonguein-cheek “mood” descriptions for each track, saving the listener the task of searching for adjectives. Opener “How It Works” (“Acoustic, Groovy, Driven, Jam Band, Guitar Solos!”), a wry meditation on impending loss, gives way to the chugging “Day By Day” (key line: “And I think of you growing old and it breaks my heart”), which mounts a darkly funny recounting of “the 2am creeps” on a synth-powered track as deliriously intricate as peakperiod Tears For Fears. Even laid-back songs like the lovelorn “Nothing Clever” (“Dark, Piano Ballad, Moody, Reflective”) bristle with the conjoined potency of relatable emotion and unshackled inspiration. BUDSCOPPA

COLE QUEST & THE CITY PICKERS Self[En]Titled OMNIVORE 7/10

Guthriedescendantleafsthrough thefamilyalbum Quest and his New York compatriots continue to put a 21st-century spin on bluegrass, but on this latest release their leader also seeks inspiration from his family’s past. The grandson of Woody Guthrie delivers a frenetic, life-affirming version of “Way Over In

REVELATIONS

The Minor Key”, one of his ancestor’s lyrics to which Billy Bragg set new music on the 1998 collaboration with Wilco, Mermaid Avenue. They’re in more subdued mode on the hillbilly heartbreak of “My Sweet Little Girl” (a lament to a much-missed animal companion) and the high-plains harmonies of “If I Still Had You”, both inventive semi-urban overhauls of traditional rural tropes. TERRY STAUNTON

REIGNING SOUND

A Little More Time With Reigning Sound MERGE

GRUFF RHYS

9/10

Firstalbuminsevenyears reunitestheoldband After a certain global pandemic scrapped his plans to record with The Dap-Kings in New York, Greg Cartwright reconvened the original Reigning Sound lineup, the one that had added so much subtlety and sophistication to 2001’s Break Up Break Down. They immediately settle back into a familiar dynamic on the aptly titled opener “Let’s Do It Again”, with the band providing a lively and sympathetic soundtrack to Cartwright’s tale of loneliness and longing. They’ve learned more than a few new tricks over the years, as evidenced on the lovely psychedelic chamber-pop saga “Just Say When”, a duet with Coco Hames. STEPHEN DEUSNER

GRUFF RHYS

Seeking New Gods ROUGH TRADE

9/10

Hillbehaviour:infull(lava)flowon maximalistseventh From 2014’s American Interior onwards, Gruff Rhys’s solo albums have each followed a conceptual or musical thread; Seeking New Gods is no different, being themed around Mount Paektu, a sacred volcano on the Chinese-Korean border. Yet for the first time in years, Rhys hasn’t restricted himself musically: here are nine songs that confidently mix Station To Station piano, Beach Boys harmonies, kosmische guitar and even free jazz. Stomping, fuzzy glam rock – “Loan Your Loneliness”, “Hiking In Lightning” – is tempered by lovely, hazy ballads – “Distant Snowy Peaks”, the title track – while Rhys sprinkles his fine wordplay on top like snow on a caldera. TOM PINNOCK

MAX RICHTER Voices 2 DECCA 8/10

Meditative sequelto2020opus A follow-up to last year’s sublime Voices, this second volume offers even more elegant musical reflections on the

Baby grands and mountain madness

“I

was reading a very overrated book a few years ago,” explains Gruff Rhys, “and there was a reference to Mount Paektu and it jumped out. Seeking New Gods started as a biography of the mountain, but the songs just didn’t scan, so I made it more personal, inspired by the mountain but not caught up with all the history.” The LP was written on a £200 baby grand piano in Rhys’s front room, with his “rudimentary” keyboard skills leading directly to the hypnotic, repeating drift of highlight “Distant Snowy Peaks”. “When I was writing the song, my son was really young so I was listening to ambient

Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Though the first volume’s title was a reflection of its many numerous recorded spoken-word passages, Voices 2 eschews them, serving more as a contemplative companion piece. Its meditative tone is set by the ethereal hum of “Psychogeography” and the poignant fragility of “Mirror”. Elsewhere, the record seamlessly shifts to more cinematic pieces such as “Movement Study”, while the haunting“MercyDuet”recallsRichter’s melancholic score for spooky US TV drama The Leftovers. ANDREW PRICE

ROSALI

NoMedium SPINSTERSOUNDS 9/10

Thesinger-songwriterisbacked byacrackcountry-rockoutfiton herfinethird Patent confidence spills from Rosali’s third solo album, like water from a fired-up kettle. Tracked with heartland outfit David Nance Group, whom she met on a 2019 tour, No Medium melds Linda Rondstadt’s tender command with Crazy Horse-esque exploration for the most powerful country-rock barn burner in recent memory – vulnerability, twang and brawn fused in an elegant dance. Opener “Mouth” sets the stage, a soft rumination with glassy singing and a solemn, piercing

electronic music at that time anyway. My favourite is a Sky Records comp with people like Moebius and Roedelius. Michael Rother influenced the sound of the guitars on the record.” Some might’ve half-expected the adventurous Rhys to travel to Paektu itself to record, but he headed to the Mojave Desert, where most of the album was put down live in two days. Finishing touches include a phased drone from his Solina String Ensemble: “I thought I’d just put a drone through the whole record and hope for the best,” he says. “I imagined it like a mountain breeze that gradually drives people mad. In a good way.” TOM PINNOCK

groove. “Bones” rattles the senses with slicing lead guitar and fortitudinous lyrical confessions, while the pianodriven meditation “Waited All Day” is rich with clear-eyed, velveteen longing. ERINOSMON

ROYAL BLOOD Typhoons WARNER

6/10

Theduo’sthirdLP,ademonically hookyfusionofMuseandFoghat Eager to sidestep the self-imposed constraints of their bass-and-drums hard-rock formula, Royal Blood here embrace the unfettered dynamism of their favourite Daft Punk and Justice records. On initial experiment “Trouble’s Coming”, Mike Kerr paired his effects-triggered bombast with snarling synths and his scenerychewing upper-register vocals, pushing their sound into otherworldly territory – music for a Star Wars disco scene – setting the template for the LP. But his inventive riffing still dominates as he and drummer Ben Thatcher lock together – most ecstatically on the funk-rock depthcharge “Boilermaker”. Eventually, the unrelenting aggressiveness of Typhoons becomes exhausting; better to ignite a playlist by tossing in one of these potent cherry bombs. BUDSCOPPA JUNE 2021 • UNCUT • 31

MARK JAMES

CARLOSNIÑO & FRIENDS


SLEEVE NOTES

DISCOVERED Searching out the best albums new to Uncut

DOROTHEA PAAS Anything Can’t Happen TELEPHONE EXPLOSION

8/10

MIRIAM PAAS

Sun-lit folk illuminates emotionally honest and hopeful breakup album. By Erin Osmon WITH Anything Can’t Happen, Canadian singer, songwriter and multiinstrumentalist Dorothea Paas has crafted one of the most stirring and emotionally resonant break-up albums of recent years, a candid retelling of heartache that doesn’t weaponise pain but instead embraces such darkness as a necessary pairing with light. A veteran of the Canadian DIY and experimental music scenes, Paas has worked with artists such as US Girls, Jennifer Castle and Badge Époque Ensemble. But this album marks her own studio debut proper, a decade into her career as a self-releasing live performer. Its maturity is unmistakable, demonstrating an evident consideration of instrumental texture, vocal delivery and narrative flow that is restrained and compelling on both micro and macro levels. It’s satisfying to zoom in on each note, to drink in the weight of her feeling as Paas sustains one word over three or four beats, like a condor riding a wind current. But pulling back reveals an equally satisfying connection, where unvarnished emotion melds with aural textures to form a beautiful, devastating and empowering journey. “I’m not lonely now/Doing all the things I want and working on my mind,” she offers during “One”, 32 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

the 30-second album opener sung over spare electric guitar. This vignette portends her journey through the album’s nine songs, a suite of tender ruminations on love, trust, self-doubt and broken relationships that culminates in a reclamation of self. It’s a stunning portrait of a woman deep in those throes, who navigates a long path to healing and acceptance, to the idea that she controls her destiny. “Sorting through old thoughts/ I go through them/One…” she concludes, embracing her singular self as a statement of purpose, less a confession than a revelation, a realisation that being alone is better than being with agony. The album wades through matters of the heart with an intense focus, a lyrical theme that echoes Joni Mitchell’s Blue and Hejira-era portraits, and Elliott Smith’s trenchant reflections, emotionally weighty but easy to take in. And like the later work of those artists, the music of Anything Can’t Happen signals an evolution from a simple folk music foundation to fleshed-out textural arrangements with a cast of accomplished players. Paas recruited friends from the Canadian experimental scene, and the instrumentation throughout seems like a natural collaboration and extension of long-forged relationships and mutual appreciation. Paas’s diaphanous voice is easily compared to Mitchell’s but she often infuses her singing with

she sings with an arresting soprano 1 One on “Waves Rising”, 2 Anything Can’t a folk-rock standout in Happen which her feather-light 3 Container vibrato ripples the end 4 Closer To Mine of each line, like waves of 5 Interlude consciousness unfolding 6 Waves Rising 7 Perfect Love amid an impossible 8 Frozen Window situation. This feeling is 9 Running Under crystallised on “Frozen My Life Window”, a snapshot of love slipping away, sung Recorded at: Fort over mesmeric electric Rose, Hamilton, guitar, Paas’s voice here Ontario; Palace projecting a necessary Sound, Toronto detachment as she Personnel: Dorothea Paas declares, “Our memories (guitar, vocals, are useless now.” But MIDI flute, Rhodes then she surprises the a subtle vibrato more piano, 12-string listener with a hard-won redolent of Mimi Parker guitar, classical moment of hope. “But of Low, alternately guitar, synth, against all odds/I will warm and chilling. bells), Liam Cole open to love again/Like The magnetic title (drums), Paul a plant searches for track is propelled by Saulnier (slide light through a frozen a slinking groove that guitar, fretless bass, 12-string window,” she sings, meets flickering electric guitar), Robin relaying the road to guitar and jazz-infused Dann (vocals), reconciliation as her percussion as Paas Thom Gill (synth, voice meets guitar, sings, three times, Rhodes piano) piano and bass in a “It’s so hard to trust freeform dance, a ray of again/When you don’t sun piercing a shadow. even trust yourself.” If love is tantamount to madness, The repetition underscores the then Anything Can’t Happen is its intended emphasis of this selfimperturbable biographer. The doubt, while doubling as an act of album relays past events with emotional processing, thinking clear-eyed wisdom, conveying ups the same thought over and over and downs through a well-hewn until it becomes a real, present vision of collaborative beauty. It truth. It’s a device Paas uses does not succumb to the tests that throughout the album to powerful love sets but rather plumbs the effect, conveying her most urgent depths of its paths to reveal the observations, conclusions and transfiguration of devastation into feelings via repeated words. self-assurance. In a still-uncertain “Oh I know, I know, I know/ climate, its emotional honesty and You’re calling out for love/But your crystalline truths are a gift. behaviour is driving me away,”

Q&A Dorothea Paas: “I gaveeach

song its own unique treatment” How does it feel to be releasing your first studio album a decade into your career?

It feels amazing! I have always had at least one part-time job while I’ve been writing, performing and recording, which has necessitated a slow process. I’m glad that it hasn’t felt urgent; there has been so much joy in playing intimate shows, building relationships, patiently writing a few songs per year, self-releasing tapes and building a stable foundation for what feels like a big debut, even though I’ve been at it so long.

You’ve played these songs live for a while and in different sonic forms. Did that make the recording process easier or more difficult? I set out with the

plan to give each song its own unique

treatment rather than establishing one consistent mode or arrangement throughout. I wanted to include some band moments, some stripped-down moments, some improvisation, to try and give a glimpse into all the various ways that I operate musically, with my voice being a consistent, grounding element throughout.

There are two interludes on the album. What is their function?

I wanted to bring all these various modes of song together in a way that felt cohesive. I didn’t set out to create a narrative explicitly but more of a guided experience. I always knew that I wanted to have an improvised, classical guitar interlude on the album because, even though this type of improvisation is the starting point of every song I write, it isn’t a mode of playing that often makes it onto a finished recording. INTERVIEW: ERIN OSMON


NEW ALBUMS

KIRA SKOV

SpiritTree STUNT 7/10

Guest-packedfourthsoloLP fromDanishchanteuse Lockdownhasn’t been bad for everyone and for some the shift onto a digital footing has thrown up fruitful possibilities. Take Kira Skov. Planning Spirit Tree, she reached out to a mix of heroes and former collaborators, among them Bonnie “Prince” Billy, Mark Lanegan and Jenny Wilson. The result is a set of dusty folk and country collaborations that show off Skov’s wit – hear how she rhymes “hormonal tendencies” with “physical dependencies” on the louche “In The End” – while echoing classic duets gone by. Take “Deep Poetry”, a neat channelling of Serge Gainsbourg with The Limiñanas’ Lionel Limiñana in charge of husky Gallic mutterings. LOUISPATTISON

SQUID

BrightGreenField WARP 9/10

Boldambitionanddystopian soundscapesonauspiciousdebut After a seamless run of infectious singles, Squid started afresh and ditched all their pre-existing recorded material, resulting in a bold debut that continues their frenetic exploration of post-punk kraut-jazz but also moves into more electronic and soundscape-like worlds. Influenced by dystopian sci-fi, “GSK” reimagines JG Ballard’s Concrete Island in modern London, as squealing brass collides with snaking guitars and ominous bass. The nine-minute “Narrator” locks into a hyper groove, melding glistening melodies with agitated noise, with the rest of the album similarly swinging between wild abandon and thoughtful restraint. DANIELDYLANWRAY

MAXWELL STERLING TurnOfPhrase AD93

style with the title of his 2016 debut Hollywood Medieval. Cinematic in approach and primitive in its desire to stir emotion, on his third album Turn Of Phrase Sterling uses dazzling sound design in the manner of Clark or Aphex Twin to conjure the kind of restless electronica that Thom Yorke puts in his playlists. Although inherently playful, the likes of “Speaking In The Tongues Of Angels” and “Tenderness” plot a murkier course to address earthier concerns. PIERS MARTIN

WILL STRATTON

The ChangingWilderness BELLA UNION

8/10

Fingerpickingballadeeredges furtherintohisown This American singersongwriter has made no bones about his debttoNickDrake and Sufjan Stevens. But this seventhstudioset houses music that’s just as haunting and evocative, so much so that any reference points fade into irrelevance. There’s an aching, sadcore-inflected beauty to the major-to-minor chord changes on “Infertile Air”, as well as to Stratton’s bewildered voice and tangles of acoustic picking, while “The Rain” is simply breathtaking, fatalistic folk. Elsewhere, the delicate arrangementsthatcoloured hisheroes’ songs illuminate thesecompositionsin understated style, such as the French horn-style synth effect on “Fate’s Ghost” and the strings shadowing “River Of Silver”. JOHNNY SHARP

CARTER TANTON Carter Tanton WESTERN VINYL

7/10

Indie troubadourembraceslessis-more ethosonstark,moodyset Tanton’s last LP, 2016’s Jettison The Valley, an incandescent California homage, was written in England by a guy from

8/10

Filmcomposer’sswashbuckling andemotiveelectronics Maxwell Sterling is a versatile young producer – son of the artist Linder Sterling and stepson of the critic Michael Bracewell – who summed up his

Will Stratton: haunting

BUDSCOPPA

TRAVIS TRITT SetInStone BIGNOISE

6/10

Anextendedabsencehasn’t changedhimmuch Travis Tritt was one of the biggest mainstream country acts of the 1990s, but his 21st-century career has been less dominant: Set In Stone is his first new material in 14 years. It’s an erratic attempt to adapt what was great about Tritt at his peak – the baritone drawl, the outlaw swagger – to these times, teaming up with Dave Cobb, pre-eminent producer of newer-school country artists (Jason Isbell, Sturgill Simpson, Corb Lund, Chris Stapleton). In general, the more fun it sounds for Tritt, ditto the listener: “They Don’t Make ’Em Like That No More” is a rousing Waylon Jennings-ish boogie. On the slower ones, like “Smoke In A Bar”, a recurring theme of defensive nostalgia sounds more bitter than affectionate. ANDREWMUELLER

VARIOUS ARTISTS Bills&Aches&Blues 4AD

7/10

Veteranindieimprintcelebrates fourdecadesofart-rocking Not for 4AD the familiar greatest hits: on Bills & Aches & Blues, the label celebrates its 40th by letting its current roster loose on the back catalogue. The Breeders are a popular choice, covered by Bradford Cox, Big Thief and Tune-Yards (whose “Cannonball” is almost as fun as the original). Kim Deal and co turn out a huskily perfect take on His Name Is Alive’s “The Dirt Eaters”, while there’s a wild-card take on Pixies’ “Where Is My Mind” by Zimbabwe-born rapper Tkay Maidza. The sense of a passing of the torch extends to the artwork, a tribute to 4AD’s late designer-in-chief Vaughan Oliver by his collaborator Chris Bigg and newcomer Shanti Bell. LOUIS PATTISON

VARIOUS ARTISTS

The Problem Of Leisure GILL MUSIC 7/10

Acelebration-cum-(double) tributealbum Originally conceived by Andy Gill to mark the 40th anniversary of Gang Of Four’s Entertainment!, this project remained unfinished when he died in 2020. Gill’s widow, Catherine Mayer, saw it to completion. Clearly, the source material is strong, but there’s also an emotional unity of purpose that works in the covers’ favour. Among those paying their respects are Gail Ann Dorsey (who served in GO4 circa 1990), Killing Joke and Warpaint. Highlights include Flea and John Frusciante’s runaway-funk take on “Not Great Men”, featuring a children’s choir, Sekar Melati’s Javanese gamelan version of the same, and Tom Morello & Serj Tankian’s turbocharged “Natural’s Not In It”. SHARON O’CONNELL

LEON VYNEHALL

Rare, Forever NINJA TUNE 8/10

Electro-jazzexplorerembarkson ambitiousinner-spaceodyssey Since honing his DJ skills on the Brighton club scene, Leon Vynehall has progressed beyond his early house releases, blending orchestral electronica with avant-classical noises and rich conceptual depths. Following his 2018 multimedia family memoir album, Nothing Is Still, Vynehall dives into his own psyche on Rare, Forever, from post-Aphex glitch-techno collages such as “In>Pin” and “Mothra” to the drone symphony “Farewell! Magnus Gabbro”, which uses Scottish mountain granite as a metaphor for creative blockage. Layered with cryptic clues, poetic quotes and fragmentary vocal loops, this lush electronic jazz odyssey is an unorthodox curio but consistently rewarding. STEPHEN DALTON

YA TSEEN

Indian Yard SUB POP 8/10

Alaskanartistembracesdiversity Nuanced exploration of racial and societal injustice is central to Nicholas Galanin’s acclaimed visual works. Now the indigenous artist channels these concerns into musical outfit Ya Tseen. Across Indian Yarn’s 11 tracks, much care has been taken to design surprising, alluring arrangements. From the dreamy waves of warm pads on opener “Knives” to the hooks that ripple throughout “Light The Touch” and the sci-fi funk of “Get Yourself Together”, this is a rich listen, strengthened by Galanin’s burning focus on critical issues. ANDREW PRICE JUNE2021•UNCUT•33

HOLLY WHITAKER, JOSH GOLEMAN

Squid: suckers for post-punk jazz-kraut

Baltimore. The self-titled follow-up is another curveball, as stripped back as his rudimentary “studio” – the empty house where Tanton spent his childhood. The bare walls bring a ghostly echo to his simply strummed acoustic and plaintive tenor on vibe-setting opener “Out Fayette”, while “Steep Angles” and the piano ballad “Uneven High Places” evoke the existential poignancy of Neil Young’s early solo work. By contrast, the intricately fingerpicked “Mirrors” sounds positively lush on a radically intimate album that challenges – and rewards – the attentive listener. Interestingly, Tanton chose to shelve the initial version, recorded with members of The War On Drugs.


“Do you know?/Don’t you wonder?/What’s going on/Down under you”

J JU NNE E 2021 2021 T TAKE K 28 99

1 BAD BRAINS (P39) 2 SUN RA (P40) 3 JOHN LENNON (43) 4 SPIRITUALIZED (P46) 5 ALAN VEGA (P47)

REISSUES | COMPS | BOXSETS | LOST RECORDINGS

CROSBY, STILLS, NASH & YOUNG

Déjà Vu: 50th Anniversary Deluxe Edition RHINO

The 1970 classic expanded with demos, outtakes and unreleased material. By Peter Watts

MICHAEL OCHS ARCHIVES/GETTY IMAGES

S

previously unreleased. OMETIMES, These are divided into three the only way to REISSUE categories, Demos, Outtakes follow-up a bestOF THE selling critically MONTH and Alternates. They confirm two things about the sessions: acclaimed album 9/10 firstly, that all four of the quartet is to do it all over were in the middle of a hot streak again, only bigger. where songs were simply pouring out That’s the approach Crosby, Stills of them; and second, that Neil Young was & Nash took in 1970 with their followdivided from the rest of the group by more up to May 1969’s Crosby, Stills & Nash. than just an ampersand. He’s always They enlisted Neil Young to expand the been a noncommittal presence on Déjà trio into a quartet and spent six months Vu, contributing his own two songs – hammering out arrangements in the “Helpless” and “Country Girl” – sharing studio, but in most other ways they simply a credit for “Everybody I Love You” with repeated their magic trick of combining Stills, and adding the occasional guitar “big personalities, pristine voices and lick, but otherwise the achingly personal junior partner. That lyrics”, as Cameron feeling doesn’t change Crowe summarises after exposure to this it in his liner notes. edition’s many extras, The same but bigger which again show also describes this Young ploughing a set, which comes lone furrow. There’s a either in a 4CD/1LP perfect “Birds” with version or across Nash on harmony, five LPs. As well which Young was as the original in the process of album, there are 38 recording for After additional songs, The Gold Rush, an many of which are

34 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021


The gang’s all here: (l-r) Greg Reeves, David Crosby, Neil Young, Stephen Stills, Graham Nash, Dallas Taylor

JUNE 2021 • UNCUT • 35


SLEEVE NOTES CD 1: Original Album

CSNY in their 1970 heyday

alternative version of “Helpless” with harmonica that has been released on Archives 1, and he adds occasional musical support to some of Stills’ compositions. But the bulk of the material comes from Crosby, Nash and especially Stills. These include early versions of several tracks that would soon appear on the trio’s own solo albums. If Neil Young has always been elusive, Joni Mitchell has previously felt excluded. She was a ghost behind the machine of Déjà Vu, another massive talent only half-inside the tent as the inspiration for Nash’s “Our House” and the writer of “Woodstock”, which was memorably covered by Stills to close Side One. Here, delightfully, she finally has a physical presence thanks to one of two demos of “Our House”, which sees her singing a duet with Nash, giggling when he fluffs a line. It’s one of the highlights of the set, a real peek behind the corner into the soap-operatic personal lives that made Déjà Vu such a hit. The CSNY sessions started in June 1969 with rehearsals at 3615 Shady Oak Road in Studio City, in a house that Stills had bought from Peter Tork. The trio needed an instrumentalist to fill out their live sound. John Sebastian, Steve Winwood and Mark Naftalin of the Paul Butterfield Blues Band were all discussed before Ahmet Ertegun, head of Atlantic, talked Stills into asking Young, who had walked out on Buffalo Springfield three times in two years. The first studio session was on July 15 at Wally Heider’s in LA, with Young taking keyboard on a thrilling run through the feisty “Know You Got To Run”, which appears on this set for the first time. The song was later edited together with “Everybody We Love You” to become DéjàVu’s closing number, “ ou”. The ey recorded ions of Stills’ ng “4 + 20”. The ake went on nished record the second ncluded here s just as good,

CD 2: Demos 1 Our House – Graham Nash * 2 4 + 20 – Stephen Stills * 3 Song With No Words (Tree With No Leaves) – David Crosby & Graham Nash 4 Birds – Neil Young & Graham Nash * 5 So Begins The Task/Hold On Tight – Stephen Stills * 6 Right Between The Eyes – Graham Nash 7 Almost Cut My Hair – David Crosby * 8 Teach Your Children – Nash & Crosby 9 How Have You Been – Crosby, Stills & Nash 10 Triad – David Crosby 11 Horses Through A

with a vocal that’s technically superior. Recording switched to San Francisco after CSNY’s appearance at Woodstock, with the final sessions taking place on December 28, 1969 – not quite the last day of the ’60s but close enough for those who enjoy a metaphor. Stills was a perfectionist – that’s the main cause of his clashes with one-take Neil – so over time the band recorded multiple versions of every song. As well as alternative versions of every album track bar “Country Girl”, including a fab “Woodstock” with an earthshaking Stills vocal and a frantic, fragile “Déjà Vu”, there are numerous songs that would later appear on solo albums, future CSN records or, sometimes, disappear for good. These were often recorded as solo demos, but other members of the group are sometimes present. There’s Nash’s “Questions Why”, a fine lilting McCartney imitation in the classic Nash naïf style, which seems never to have been re-recorded, as well as an early version of “Sleep Song” that he recorded again for his 1971 solo debut, Songs For Beginners. Crosby gives us splendid early versions of “Laughing” and “Song With No Words” – two songs that he would later record for If I Could Only Remember My Name. Some of these were recorded in September for publishing demos by Crosby a few weeks before his girlfriend, Christine, died in a car crash. Stills’ numerous contributions include the stellar “She Can’t Handle It”, which he recorded as “Church (Part Of Someone)” for Stephen Stills, but the progress of others is less easy to track such is his habit of rewriting and editing lyrics, or taking two fragments and making them into a single song. We know that “Bluebird Revisited”, for instance, later appeared on Stephen Stills 2, but a song like the organ-heavy “I’ll Be There” seems to have vanished. “30 Dollar Fine” is another

Rainstorm – Graham Nash 12 Know You Got To Run – Stephen Stills * 13 Question Why – Graham Nash * 14 Laughing – David Crosby * 15 She Can’t Handle It – Stephen Stills * 16 Sleep Song – Graham Nash 17 Déjà Vu – Crosby & Nash * 18 Our House – Graham Nash & Joni Mitchell * CD 3: Outtakes 1 Everyday We Live * 2 The Lee Shore – 1969 Vocal * 3 I’ll Be There * 4 Bluebird Revisited * 5 Horses Through A Rainstorm 6 30 Dollar Fine * 7 Ivory Tower *

8 Same Old Song * 9 Hold On Tight/ Change Partners * 10 Laughing * 11 Right On Rock’N’Roll * CD 4: Alternates 1 Carry On – Early Alternate Mix * 2 Teach Your Children – Early Version * 3 Almost Cut My Hair – Early Version * 4 Helpless – Harmonica Version 5 Woodstock – Alternate Vocals * 6 Déjà Vu – Early Alternate Mix * 7 Our House – Early Version * 8 4 + 20 – Alt Take 2 * 9 Know You Got To Run * LP: Original Album * previously unissued

Stills original that feels half-written – the vocal is unclear and the music is much more of a jam than you usually get with CSNY – but a version did turn up as “$20 Fine” on the posthumous Jimi Hendrix release Both Sides Of The Sky. Another song with a great guitar part is “Ivory Tower”, which was completely rewritten and recorded as “Little Miss Bright Eyes” by Manassas – Stills had written the original lyric about his bandmates and felt he’d been a little harsh, so took his eraser to it. There are more Stills rarities – “Same Old Song”, “Right On Rock’N’Roll” – and the musician accounts for seven of the eleven songs on the outtakes CD, making this something of a Stills mother lode. Added to these are several completed CSN tracks, complete with the harmonies that brought them together in the first place. Nothing beats “Carry On”, which boasts one of CSN’s most miraculous harmonies. There’s a gorgeous alternative version here with a more pronounced guitar solo, but it’s the voices that compel. Even Neil Young was amazed, telling an interviewer: “There’s a new song called ‘Carry On’ that Stephen wrote,” he said. “And they do a vocal thing in the middle that is one of the best vocal things I’ve ever heard on record… It’s just incredible, man… It sounds like a choir. It’s unbelievable.”

HOW TO BUY...

SINGLE LIFE

e After The Gold Rush, but here’s how the other three followed up Déjà Vu…

STEPHEN STILLS

HENRYDILTZ

StephenStills ATLANTIC, 1970

Recorded in London and LA almost simultaneously with Déjà Vu, Stills’ debut sold big thanks to outstanding single “Love The One You’re With”. He had tons of material for this superb collection – an early take of “Church (Part Of Someone)” features in the Déjà Vu extras – and brought in guests including Eric Clapton, Ringo Starr and Jimi Hendrix for tracks like “Old Times Good Times” and “Go Back Home”. 9/10 36 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

DAVID CROSBY

IfICouldOnlyRemember My Name ATLANTIC, 1971

Crosby’s girlfriend died during the recording of Déjà Vu, and his solo debut spins that grief into a shimmering masterpiece. Two of its best tracks – “Laughing” and “Song With No Words” – feature in these out-takes, but others like “Cowboy Movie” and “Orleans” deserve exploration. It’s the most distinctive personal vision of all four Déjà Vu personnel bar Young. 10/10

GRAHAM NASH

SongsForBeginners ATLANTIC, 1971

The last of the original trio to release solo records, Nash utilised a number of guest players for this, including Neil Young who plays piano on several tracks, but songs like “Better Days” and “I Used To Be King” speak of an almost humble and nostalgic record thanks to Nash’s straightforward approach to writing and recording. 8/10


ARCHIVE What was Neil’s contribution beyond his own songs?

Neil played on “Woodstock” but fuck if I remember. Neil was pretty hard to catch but he’s still my best mate. We still have that ferocious thing we do when we play together, but we never left any room for it on the record. We saved that for live when we can play right over the top of each other so it starts chording and stuff.

Q&A

Howareyoudoing,Stephen?

I am just coming out of hibernation. I got my second shot yesterday and my hair didn’t fall out, so I’m still in the game. It’s been like an extended sabbatical. I got a bit of perspective on things.

Haveyoubeenmaking anymusic?

I have a working arrangement with my bass player, Kevin McCormack, and we have been plonking out a few songs. I’ve been recording because I have everything I had in the ’70s in the studio right here in my house.

Enoughforanalbum?

No, the older you get the slower they come. But eventually. Right now it is pretty raw. The vocals are good and the playing is good for the most part, though there have been instances where I get to the solo and I completely forget how to play the guitar. It’s frightening actually. So I probably have about six, nearly an album, we’ll see. I had to stop myself because they were all starting to sound like limericks, talking blues, all topical and all concerning King Me – Trump. I had to wait for that to die down. When I am ready I will put them down but I have to make sure the lyric police shows up. It’s like there’s the vomit draft and then you get some discipline and try to clean it up. Sometimes they fall out fully formed but often there’s a bit of a rewrite.

LookingatDéjàVu,youall hadsomanysongsinthisera.

It was a ridiculous amount. I don’t recall much argument about the tracks we eventually used. I basically chose to absent myself until they made up their minds, but I knew which ones of mine I wanted to use and I couldn’t control anything else. The secret was to get the best ones and then stop.

CSNY rehearsal with drummer DallasTaylor and bassist Greg Reeves

Didyouholdstuffbackforyour soloalbumsoreverconsider recordingadouble?

Not that I necessarily recall. There were things in pieces and you’d think, ‘Well, that sounds more like a solo bit.’ How did we know if it was solo or CSNY? Well, it was if it warrants harmony. Simple as that.I don’t think we discussed making Déjà Vu a double. Everybody had one foot in their solo projects.

Whatdoyouremember aboutthesesessions?

We talked everything to death and that would take hours. That was the adjustment to working with Neil. For myself, I was already in the process of moving and had one foot in Europe. I was ready to make an escape. We had all come to think quite a lot of ourselves. The blessing of fame was wearing ff. Some people… the more mous they get the smarter they ink they are – that was rampant ong us even if everybody was ng a great job of covering up st how prickly it was.

owdidNeilchange edynamic? Neil was one

hose who wanted us to sing it d play it at the same time and done, and the first time you get ght – that’s the take. I like a bit polish so I’m not actually fond of these extra tracks. For ’s like seeing the mannequins ressed in the shop window. Why ou want to put these out there n though they sound great? But went on this excursion, like this aeological dig. Neil has always n the smartest one of us; he gave hree songs and kept the rest. He’s w put together his own archive, and und that quite clever actually.

“Everybodysaid,‘Who knew? You turned out to be the sane one’” STEPHENSTILLS

Joni wasn’t around but we cut “Woodstock”. I played her my arrangement and asked for her permission. We were isolating ourselves in the tradition of all self-indulgent rock bands. I played her my version of “Woodstock” and years later I regret not using more of her really good strange notes. I made the melody a little straighter and in retrospect I wonder if that was right.

There’salovelyalternative versionof“4+20”here.

“4 + 20” captured that mood and juvenile thought and laid it to rest immediately upon singing it. I like the take I did that we used with the catch in my voice best of all, but we did a second one for reasons unknown and then put both on here. I like the original best, the one with the catch. It sounds like it should: a first take and very passionate, getting straight into that mood and then quickly extracting myself. We all liked that one, but they made me do it again just in case 50 years later they wanted to cobble together a loosely associated amalgam of all the outtakes as a last gasp before the frigging copyright ran out. At this point, you have to laugh.

Howareyougettingonwith DavidandGraham?

I haven’t spoken to Graham for ages but I’ve talked to David to tell him I was glad he got If I Could Only Remember My Name re-released. But what’s the difference? I don’t care any more. It was a long time ago. I had a good time, then I didn’t. The last tour we did of Europe was just the most fun. David and Graham were at each other’s throats but I had a great time. Everybody was looking at me saying, “Who knew? You turned out to be the sane one!”

Doyouhaveanyplanstogoon theroad?

The lasttour I didwithJudyCollins about two years ago, I was so beat up I had a feeling that would be it for a while. Then I got my knee replaced and then the pandemic hit.So Ihave basically been a lazydog andI kindof like it.Iloveplaying but the travel, with all these nagging injuries you get at this age… I dunno. Ipaidmy dues. INTERVIEW:PETER WATTS JUNE 2021 • UNCUT •37

HENRY DILTZ

Stephen Stills: “Neil was pretty hard to catch but he’s still my best mate”

It’s nice to hear Joni here on the demo of “Our House”.


ARCHIVE

MY BLOODY VALENTINE Isn’t Anything/ Loveless/ m b v/EPs ’88–’91 (reissues, 1988, 1991, 2013, 2012) DOMINO

10/10, 10/10, 9/10, 8/10 The full-spectrum wonder of My Bloody Valentine, remastered and reissued for the final time. By Stephen Troussé

PAUL RIDER, GAELLE BERI/REDFERNS VIA GETTY IMAGES)

“M

AGIC isn’t about pulling rabbits out of hats,” says Ewen Bremner as Alan McGee, fancying himself the dark lysergic mage of EC1, midway through the recent, regrettable Creation Stories biopic. “But it is about making something materialise.” As if on cue, like the shopkeeper in Mr Benn, Aleister Crowley appears in the loo of a south London squat to inform him that “ideas are everywhere – you only have to reach out and grab one”. Sure enough, downstairs My Bloody Valentine are about to conjure the tremolo vortex sutra of “You Made Me Realise” and secure his label’s lasting legacy. Late-’80s indie isn’t short of magical transformations: Primal Scream from twangling wastrels into ecstatic lords of dance, Pulp from eternal also-rans into cocksure chroniclers of class and romance – but there’s none quite as wondrous as My Bloody Valentine. That the band could release the exquisitely belated jangle pop of “Ecstasy” in November 1987 and then fundamentally shift the entire paradigm of modern music a few months later – it’s enough to make you ponder Faustian pacts on moonlit Kentish Town crossroads. But magic is also about making things disappear. If your record collection dematerialised at some point over the past decade into the algorithmic ether, then for the past year or so the music of My Bloody Valentine has been keenly unavailable. Although the mundane consequence of contracts and licensing deals, this was arguably the band’s finest trick – as if all the Picassos suddenly disappeared from every gallery on Earth. Amid the present superabundance, when even the KLF have succumbed, there was something magnificent about the band’s abstention, putting us all in the position of McGee hammering on the studio door: where’s the bloody music, Kevin? 38 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

They made us realise: (l–r) MBV’s Bilinda Butcher, Kevin Shields, Debbie Googe and Colm Ó Cíosóig, 1988

Well, here it is at last: Isn’t Anything, Loveless and m b v, plus the compilation of EPs and rare tracks, finally available on all formats for the first time (bootleggers can continue to frack a meagre revenue stream from the pre-Creation material). If you didn’t know already, well here is the mother lode of modern rock, the final revolution in its 20thcentury analogue trajectory from riff to reverie. Who could argue that, even with all the resources

of digital recording technology, music has gone further out there since way back then? Inevitably there has been tinkering. You wonder in fact whether Shields, like Jimmy Page with Led Zeppelin, is ever going to be able fully to let these records go, with any subtle shift in his ageing cochlea, development in modern lathe cutting, or imperceptible drift in the atmosphere likely to prompt further reckoning. But this has apparently


ARCHIVE

Here is the final revolution in rock’s analogue trajectory from riff to reverie been largely in the artwork. According to the man himself the new CDs are “pretty much the same that came out in 2012”, the AAA vinyl the same as was issued via their website in 2017, with the new improved vinyl cuts of Isn’t Anything and Loveless made possible “by processing the lacquers within an hour of cutting them”. Perhaps the greatest gift of having this body of work together at last is allowing us to hear a band, a musician, in transition – emerging and evanescing through time, rather than simply producing the imperial, unsurpassable white elephant of Loveless. There is still so much to rediscover in these records – chiefly perhaps the wonder of Isn’t Anything, the debut 1988 album for Creation, recorded in two week in Wales with Amon Düül II and Hawkwind bass player Dave Anderson. There’s a posthumous tendency to view the record as simply the warm-up for Loveless, the first experiments in rough magic that Shields was to refine to such glorious effect. But it’s worth listening as though this had been the last we heard of MBV, if they hadn’t chanced upon as reckless a gambler as Alan McGee. We might properly appreciate what an astonishing band this was: defined as much by drummer

Colm Ó Cíosóig and bass player Deb Googe as by Shields and fellow singer-guitarist Bilinda Butcher. It’s useful to hear the record in the context of the live recordings from the time that have now surfaced on YouTube – notably a November 1988 gig at the Fulham Greyhound (when they were described by Melody Maker’s Chris Roberts as “the most thrilling live group in the country, feasibly the world”), where you can hear the sound materialise, almost second by second, out of the squalid clatter of the late-’80s toilet circuit, out of the influence of Sonic Youth and Hüsker Dü, into something sui generis. You hear them fade back into clatter – albeit the drum-and-bass skitter of city trains and overhead jets and celestial noospheres – on “Wonder 2”, the closing track from 2013’s implausibly successful comeback, m b v. Shields maintains that the primary influence on his work was always hip-hop, and in particular Hank Shocklee’s production of Public Enemy: how he transmuted the base matter of his environment,from thegridlock blare of streets to thedrone of theairwaves, into the holy power of golden noise. With these three albums, Shields has proved himself every bit Shocklee’s equal as a modern alchemist. Here’s hoping he has a few more tricks left up his sleeve.

Q&A Kevin Shields on tents, hip-hop and Brian Eno There’s a popular caricature of you as an obsessive recluse, stuck away building tents in studios to get the perfect guitar tone. Were you well prepared for the global lockdown?

I was a bit more prepared than most people as I’m living and working from home in a pretty isolated place, but part of what made that work was getting out regularly, so that’s been interesting. The image people have of me is totally true! I’m actually part of a secret organisation of tent builders and have been working on a self-assemble tent that will transform guitar sounds asweknowthem. Possibly not.

There’s a fair amount of mythologising of Creation going at the moment. How important was the label to the evolution of the band?

They were pretty important. Alan and Dick Green had been aware of us before but were very surprised by our

Shields: awaiting “intense focus”

livesound – we were far more like an American hardcore band. They gave us three to four days in the studio (we took five) and we made the “You Made Me Realise” EP. Creation loved the title track and wanted us to be like Hüsker Dü, but we were more into the song “Slow” – and funnily from there on in there was a kind of misalignment. It was hip-hop music that was driving my inspiration at this point.

Your last released piece of music was with Brian Eno, “The Weight Of History”. Do you feel the weight of a legacy to live up to?

AtoZ This month… P40 P41 P42 P43 P44 P46 P46 P47

SUN RA CAN FLEETWOOD MAC JOHN LENNON ROGER FAKHR CATH & PHIL TYLER SPIRITUALIZED ALAN VEGA

BAD BRAINS

BadBrains (reissue,1982) ORGMUSIC

9/10

DChardcoreact’sdebut reissued Nearly 40 years after Bad Brains released their debut album, the transition between “Banned in DC” and “Jah Calling” still sounds bracing, as though you’re hearing a new world opening up. The five previous songs are all breakneck hardcore punk, monster riffs delivered with angry abandon and nimble musicianship,but “Jah Calling” moves fluidly into dub, with its echoing snare and in-your-face bass augmented by speaker hiss. Punk and reggae had commingled before, but these DC pioneers saw boundless possibilities in hardcore, even in its infancy a conservative form. Anchored by a powerful rhythm section and an unsung guitar hero, they incorporated elements of strutting heavy metal, mathematical prog, even motormouthed hip-hop. “You can’t afford to close your doors!” frontman HR exclaims on “BannedInDC”.Thefirstvolleyin Org Music’s reissues of their early catalogue, Bad Brains presents a band with a fully formed sound and a determined mission. Extras:None. STEPHEN DEUSNER

BadBrains: menona mission

Not really, more the curse/blessing of having made music inaveryinspired,focused state once and now it being something that’s more diffuse mostly d then comes into intense focus re at random, with me not being e deciding factor so much. Some ople are very good at cultivating at situation. I think I’m at ermediate level at best but still actising hard – people like Brian o are 10th dan black belts. TERVIEW: STEPHEN TROUSSÉ

JUNE 2021 • UNCUT •39


Cosmic character: Sun Ra at the controls

SLEEVE NOTES 1 Lanquidity 2 Where Pathways Meet 3 That’s How I Feel 4 Twin Stars Of Thence 5 There Are Other Worlds (They Have Not Told You Of)

SUN RA Lanquidity

(reissue, 1978)

STRUT

8/10

VERYL OAKLAND

Swirling psych-funk-jazz from the cosmos’s favourite son. By Jon Dale THE night before recording their 1978 album Lanquidity, Sun Ra and his Arkestra filmed a brief live spot for Saturday Night Live. Given a window of only four minutes, Sun Ra crammed three classics into the performance: “Space Is The Place”, “The Sound Mirror”, which featured a typically cosmic monologue from Ra himself, and “Watusa”. With their membership in double figures, the Arkestra couldn’t help but look cramped on the small SNL stage, but the kaleidoscopic whirl they brought to America’s TV sets – spinning dervish dancers, multicoloured robes and shawls, glittering headdresses – still feels uncontainable, even watching four decades later on a low-resolution upload of grainy VHS. This appearance on SNL, and the subsequent Lanquidity sessions, came after a few years of international exploration for the Arkestra. In 1977 they travelled to Lagos for the FASTEC festival (the World Black and African Festival of 40 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

Produced By: Sun Ra Recorded At: Blank Tapes, New York Personnel: Sun Ra (Arp, Fender Rhodes, Yamaha organ, Hammond B3 organ, Minimoog, acoustic piano, orchestral bells, Crumar electric keyboard, voice), June Tyson (voice), John Gilmore (tenor sax), Marshall Allen (alto sax, oboe, flute), Danny Ray Thompson (baritone sax, flute), Julian Pressley (baritone sax), Michael Ray (trumpet), Eddie Gale (trumpet), James Jacson (bassoon, flute, oboe, voice), Eloe Omoe (bass clarinet, flute), Dale Williams (guitar), Disco Kid (guitar), Richard Williams (bass), Luqman Ali (percussion), Atakatune (congo drums, tympani), Michael Anderson (percussion), Eddie Tahmas (voice)

Arts and Culture), where Sun Ra refused a visit to Fela Kuti’s nightclub; on their way back home, they toured Egypt again. In 1978, Sun Ra also took a quartet to Italy for a brief tour. As John Szwed notes in his book Space Is The Place, Sun Ra had also started to focus on solo piano, at the urging of fellow pianist Paul Bley, resulting in some of the former’s most idiosyncratic, surprising recordings. Lanquidity, though, feels like a particularly emboldened album in Sun Ra and the Arkestra’s history. If you come to it expecting the mystical free-jazz blowouts of ’60s classics like Heliocentric Worlds and Atlantis, you might be taken aback by the slack groove of the five songs here, the group vamping on riffs that draw from funk and R&B. The strangeness in Lanquidity works at a cellular level – at no point does anything feel like ‘business as usual’, even as this album, and some of its immediate peers (see also the minimal, drum-machine grooves of Disco 3000), reference recent developments in music in a more concrete and codifiable manner. The sessions themselves were typically Arkestran. Tom Buchler, the owner of Philly Jazz, the label that originally released Lanquidity, had travelled out to Germantown a few times to try and organise a deal with Sun Ra; he was met, instead, with Arkestra rehearsals and hours of Sun Ra’s cosmic philosophies. When they finally arrived at Blank Tapes, a studio run by Bob Blank, who’d soon become known for landmark productions with the likes of Arthur Russell, Lydia Lunch and James Blood Ulmer, Sun Ra immediately asked the studio technicians to pull down the pyramid they’d built over the mixing console: “You cannot harness this music,” he said. “I’m dealing with the omniverse.” The label’s small budget meant the Arkestra onl had one nig to record what became Lanquidity. Never mind the resultant album is one of the strong affecting of th ’70s run of al time when th a particula mood. The ti

opens the album with a gentle, lambent melody from the keyboards, soon picked up by a phalanx of wind instruments sighing in unison. Guitars are fed through echoplexes, rendering them pliable as plasma; the percussion is a slow martial stroll. At times it sounds a little like the roiling funk of Miles Davis’s “He Loved Him Madly” era, dialled down in intensity, eddying and swirling with understated psychedelic heft. “Lanquidity”’s gentle radiance gives way to “Where Pathways Meet”, a slick strut that strikes out on a seesawing two-note brass riff, with a needle-sharp guitar spitting gobs of arpeggios around the song’s unrelenting groove. “That’s How I Feel” creeps into view, with Sun Ra tangling keyboard lines around exploratory sax, before Richard Williams’ bass propels the song, fixating on another simple yet deeply effective phrase to keep everything afloat. It’s here that you realise the album’s minimalism-withvariations, its deep focus, is its greatest achievement – the slow builds of these songs load them with tension, and as much as the title Lanquidity, with its portmanteau of “languid” and “liquidity”, suggests an almost fusion-y laid-back vibe, the Arkestra takes these songs to less peaceable places. Lanquidity’s offhand edginess builds through “Twin Stars Of Thence” and “There Are Other Worlds (They Have Not Told You Of)”. The former is astringent, sharp, riding a rhythm that’s as wobbly as a slinky sliding downstairs. Fractured yet funky, it’s no surprise Azealia Banks sampled it for “Atlantis” on her Fantasea mixtape. “There Are Other Worlds…” is peak Sun Ra, though, with a moon chorus of chanting voices swinging and swooping over suspended synth vamps, deconstructed blues piano, a waterlogged field reflecting the night stars. Surprising in both its funk-tionality and its underhand threat, Lanquidity is a psychedelic pleasure, the Arkestra at yet another peak. Extras: 8/10. A second disc includes an alternative version of the album, including a particularly revelatory, extended “That’s How I Feel”. It’s every bit as good. Brief liner notes from several key participants flesh out the album’s story.


ARCHIVE Firstinthenewliveseries iscauseforjubilation The fact the keepers of the Can vault Chuck have been Berry: sitting on in the moment a recording as transcendent as this for nearly half a century seems somewhere between absurd and criminal. CHUCK BERRY Nevertheless, devotees will forgive TorontoRock&Roll that once they experience the first of Revival1969 the long-promised series of live albums SUNSETBLVD shepherded by Irmin Schmidt and 8/10 longtime engineer René Tinner. While Rock’n’rollfoundationinfull-force this 91-minute document captures comeback:classicopusesunfurled the band at a transitional time in their career after Damo Suzuki’s exit The late ’60s saw and before their sole UK chart hit many rock’n’roller with 1976’s “I Want More”, the music rebirths, from Elvis here demonstrates no reduction in to Little Richard; their incantatory powers. Ranging Chuck Berry, on the in length from 10 to 36 minutes, other hand, struggled the five instrumental pieces are a onward, despite his 1964 masterpiece mesmerising mélange of first-division St Louis To Liverpool. A dozen icons psych boogie, spacy languor and the – Jerry Lee Lewis to Bo Diddley – were thunderous assaults known to the on hand at Varsity Stadium the night players as “Godzillas”. Though fans this was recorded, as were the younger will be thrilled to catch passages of elite, such as The Doors and John staples like “Vitamin C” and “Bel Air” Lennon and Yoko Ono. Canadian garage-psychsters Nucleus were Berry’s amid the swirl, more startling is how funky the band could be, with the pickup band, speaking back to him most strident moments achieving the with playful-turned-grungy guitar same apotheosis of strut and skronk as yelps (“Nadine”), wayward leads and electric-era Miles Davis. Indispensable, trash-can rhythms. Berry responds in but that’s no surprise. kind, in the moment, altering lyrics, Extras:8/10. Limited-edition triple pouring heart and humour into a orange vinyl and double-CD editions batch of timeless wonders. His voice both include booklets with sleeve brings new fervour to these powerful notes by novelist Alan Warner, archivist interpretations such as “Reelin’ And Andy Hall and manager Sandra Rockin’”, while Nucleus introduces Podmore Schmidt. JASONANDERSON the stellar “Memphis” with one-note punk guitar. Skipping past his lone ALEX CHILTON WITH THE new original, “My Ding-A-Ling”, is advised; still, this is quite a musical HI RHYTHM SECTION moment to visit. BoogieShoes: Extras: None. LiveOnBealeStreet LUKE TORN

OMNIVORE

7/10

CAN

Live In Stuttgart 1975

Aseat-of-their-pantsshowby Memphislegends

SPOON/MUTE

Alex Chilton and the Hi Rhythm Section were winging it. On stage at the New Daisy Theatre in 1999, they pounded out an emphatic set of covers that’s all the more exciting for being unrehearsed. You can even hear the once-and-future Big Star frontman calling out songs to the band, and you can hear the band responding fluidly to his eccentric vocal phrasing. It’s an intriguing match-up: back when the Hi Rhythm Section were backing R&B artists like Al Green and Ann Peebles in the 1970s, Chiltonwas exploring power pop with Big Star and deconstructing old pop hits on his solo albums. Together, these Memphians exhibit an undeniable chemistry on their covers of “Maybelline” and “Hello Josephine”, with the band’s relentless backbeat corralling Chilton’s messy croon. Boogie Shoes may be his most engaged and engaging performance of the ’90s. Extras:6/10.An album cover painted by Memphis artist Lamar Sorrento and new liner notes by local historian David Less. STEPHEN DEUSNER

COB

SpiritOfLove (reissue,1970) BREADANDWINE

8/10

Mysticslackers’debutmakesfirst officialvinylcomeback “I don’t want to do too much,” Clive Palmer said, explaining his musical MO a few years before his death in 2014. The mutual friend who brought The Incredible String Band together, the footloose Palmer made a kind of career of doing very little; the old-time banjo-loving bohemian went off travelling after the first ISB LP, briefly rematerialising with the Famous Jug Band before rustling together two albums as COB (Clive’s Own Band) with musicians he met while living in a caravan in the

Cornish woods. Producer Ralph McTell despaired at COB’s indiscipline as he pieced together Spirit Of Love, but their eccentricities of pitch and timekeeping make it a pleasingly rough-edged piece of folk art, “Music Of The Ages”, “Evening Air” and Mick Bennett’s “Sweet Slavery” typifying its Soggy Bottom Boys-in-Marrakesh mood. Some prefer rasta-far-out follow-up Moyshe McStiff…, but Spirit Of Love has its own unworldly charm. Extras:None. JIMWIRTH

ROBERT COTTER

MissingYou (reissue,1976) WEWANTSOUNDS

8/10

Sought-after1976album,gracedby disco/funkroyalty,reissuedatlast Sometimes a record’s rarity causes its qualities to be overestimated – not in this case. After this LP sank immediately on its 1976 release (its label, Tiger Lily, turned out to be a tax scam for mobbed-up mogul Morris Levy), the few copies that survived gained value partly thanks to the involvement on two tracks of The Big Apple Band – the pre-Chic outfit Cotter fronted alongside Bernard Edwards and Nile Rodgers. Of those cuts, “Love Rite” is a real zinger, its infectious funk benefitting from Edwards’ supremely supple bassline and Rodgers’ nimbly rhythmic guitar, as well as Cotter’s versatile soul voice. “Saturday”, meanwhile, is a furiously uptempo jazz-funk jam that is noticeably faster than the slick, string-soaked disco version Chic vocalist Norma Jean Wright had a 1978 hit with. Elsewhere, the gospel-infused proto-disco of “Missing You” and the wildly falsetto-strewn psychedelia of “Come On With It” are among several more welcome refugees from obscurity. Extras:None. JOHNNYSHARP

HOW TO BUY...

CHIC CLIQUE

The best of Nile Rodgers and Bernie Edwards’ extracurricular activities

NORMA JEAN

Norma Jean BEARSVILLE, 1978

Just as Chic were hitting the big time, they found time to oversee a solo debut from their singer Norma Jean Wright. Bubbling Bernard Edwards basslines and silky sequenced strings instantly mark it out as a Chic joint, and they hit rich grooves on shoulda-beenhits “Sorceror” and “Saturday Night” (the latter a creamier overhaul of the track on Robert Cotter’s album). 7/10

SHEILA & B DEVOTION

VARIOUS ARTISTS

CARRERE, 1980

MIRAGE, 1982

King Of The World

French former ye-ye chanteuse Sheila pulled off a major coup when she hired The Chic Organisation to write and produce a disco-oriented album aimed at the international market. Space-pop curio and global hit “Spacer” retains a cherished place in the Chic Org canon, but the title track, europop earworm “Don’t Go” and “Cover Girls” plus the string-soaked “Your Love Is Good” are also ripe for rediscovery. 8/10

Soup For One OST

Including a tit track sampled for Modjo’s 200 house smash “Lady”, followed by Carly Simon’s “Why”, this soundtrack can’t fail. Acoustic instrumental “Tavern On The Green” is a real Chic oddity an “I Work For A Livin’” by backing vocalist Fonzi Thornton is anot highlight – a whole Chic-prod LP by Thornton went tantalisin unreleased. 9/10 JOHNNY SHARP

Busy boys: Edwards and Rodgers in the studio, NYC, July 29, 1981

WALTER IOOSS JR./GETTY IMAGES, ALLAN TANNENBAUM/GETTY IMAGES

10/10


ARCHIVE FLEETWOOD MAC Live (reissue,1980) RHINO

8/10

Concertconsolidationof studiotriumphs Mac’s first live album, a million-selling double-disc affair, predictably leans heavily towards the band’s then two most recent studio releases, Rumours and Tusk, but benefits enormously from occasional detours further back into their catalogue. Lindsey Buckingham lets rip with eloquent guitar shapes on 1975’s “I’m So Afraid” (originally earmarked for an earlier two-hander LP with Stevie Nicks) and a respectful reworking of Peter Green’s “Oh Well” from the group’s first incarnation. Christine McVie is in especially fine voice on “Say You Love Me” and “Over My Head”, and there are achingly gorgeous three-part harmonies on a cover of The Beach Boys’ “The Farmer’s Daughter”. Extras:7/10.The “super deluxe edition” boasts a third CD with 14 previously unreleased tracks from various shows between ’77 and ’82, including the oft-overlooked powerpop gem “Blue Letter” and another nod to the band’s early years on “The Green Manalishi (With The Two-Prong Crown)”. TERRYSTAUNTON

THE GO-GO’S

GodBlessTheGo-Go’s (reissue,2001) EAGLE

MICHAEL PUTLAND/GETTY IMAGES

7/10

Cali-popquintet’sexuberant comebackLP Anyone imagining The Go-Go’s as a frivolous footnote in the history of newwave pop might care to swot up on LA’s late-’70s punk scene and consider their prejudice-defying achievements – an all-women band who wrote their own songs and scored a No 1 ThePalaceGuard: (l–r) Emitt Rhodes, John Beaudoin, David Beaudoin, Chuck McClung, Don Beaudoin and Rick Moser

Tusk mistress: Stevie Nicks and the Mac at Wembley, June 1980

album (Beauty And The Beat). After phenomenal success came the fallout, but in 2001 they released their first album in 17 years. Sensibly, God Bless The Go-Go’s wasn’t an attempted update; whether full of bravado (“La La Land”), bittersweet (“Apology”) or brandishing metaphors for life (“Kissing Asphalt”), the songs have attitude and pop-punk buoyancy in spades. Billie Joe Armstrong pays his respects on “Unforgiven”, which he co-wrote. Not every track hits its mark – “Vision Of Nowness” lacks character and “Insincere” is a dreary chug – but as comebacks go, God Bless… impresses. Extras:6/10. “I Think I Need Sleep” and “King Of Confusion”, original bonuses on UK- and Japan-only issues, respectively. SHARONO’CONNELL

IRON & WINE

ArchiveSeriesVolumeNo5: TallahasseeRecordings SUBPOP

8/10

‘Lost’debutunearthed after20years The fifth in Sam Beam’s series of rarities and archive material was recorded three years before debut The Creek Drank The Cradle, back when Beam, then a student at Florida State University, was pursuing a career as a filmmaker. The themes of love, death and faith that would come to define his songwriting are already present, but his

observations are more direct: “Ex-Lover Lucy Jones” unfolds slowly yet its tragic narrator gets a kicking, while “John’s Glass Eye” is folk song at its most dark, heading somewhere gruesome and unexpected in under two minutes. Recorded by fellow film student and future bandmate EJ Holowicki, the songs, while still lo-fi, ring out clearer and more confidently than the bedroom recordings of Beam’s debut proper: six-minute opener “Why Hate Winter”, with its central image of sharing a blanket with an unrequited love while the radio plays “a song that just wouldn’t fit in the summer”, stands among his most gorgeous and evocative work. Extras:None. LISA-MARIEFERLA

THE PALACE GUARD

AllNightLong:AnAnthology 1965–1966 OMNIVORERECORDINGS

7/10

Notjustanoveltybandfrom theTVage “All Night Long”, this LA band’s first single, with its playfully romantic lyrics and Byrds/Beatles guitar riff, opened the Palace Guard door and allowed them to follow a trail opened up by The Monkees and The Turtles. Though pieces of their work are throwaways, propelled by band managers against the band’s wishes (and responded to by their final B-side, “Greed”, written by lead singer Don Beaudine), this anthology proves the group had much more to offer: deft melodies (“Falling Sugar”), fine harmonies (“A Girl You Can Depend On”) and strong percussion (from drummer Emitt Rhodes). “Oh Blue (The Way I Feel Tonight)” is dark folk-rock jingle-jangle; “Saturday’s Child”, written by a young David Gates, brings the house down, fuzz guitar atop Beach Boys-style rev-ups. Extras: 7/10.Two further songs attributed to Don Grady and The Palace Guard, detailed liner notes by Rick Moser, photos and terrific artwork. LUKE TORN

JOHN RENBOURN GROUP A Maid In Bremen MIG

7/10

Two-fifthsofPentanglecaptured livein’78 After Pentangle broke up, Jacqui McShee continued to sing with Renbourn. And although Bert Jansch was irreplaceable, Tony Roberts on flute/oboe, tabla player Keshav Sathe and cellist Sandy Spencer were called up from the subs’ bench so that the JRG were close to the freewheeling spirit of the original famous five. Recorded live for German radio in 1978, four of the 15 songs here are Pentangle standards, including “Cruel Sister” and “Will Of Winsbury”, and there are five more trad songs from Renbourn’s then-current studio release, 1977’s A Maid In Bedlam. Yet it’s the more left-field selections that stand out, including “To Glastonbury”, which seems to invent an entirely new genre mixing Renbourn’s interest in medieval music with world music elements, and “Sidi Brahim”, a thrilling Indo-jazz jam full of shifting time signatures with Renbourn playing raga guitar in the style of the great Davy Graham. Extras: None.

NIGEL WILLIAMSON

GENE RUSSELL New Directions (reissue, 1971)

BLACK JAZZ/REAL GONE

8/10

Rare1971soul-jazzLP,thefirston theshort-livedBlackJazzRecords Gene Russell rarely features in any encyclopaedias of jazz, possibly because he’s less known as a pianist and better known as the founder of Black Jazz Records, a (nominally) black-owned label based in Oakland, California between 1971 and 1975. Like most of his label’s artists (including Doug and Jean Carn and Cleveland Eaton), Russell’s radicalism was not about sonic experimentation but more about connecting with black audiences: his highly melodic soul jazz was reminiscent of populists like Ramsey Lewis or Les McCann, using lots of jangling octaves, bluesy licks and funky Latin beats. It’s an unpretentious but hugely enjoyable set: drummer Steve Clover grooves and “drops bombs” in the most unexpected places on swing tracks like “On Green Dolphin Street” and “Silver’s Serenade”, but also knows how to funk on a version of Stevie Wonder’s “My Cherie Amour”; bassist Henry Franklin lends a propulsive groove to Eddie Harris’s “Listen Here”; while the legendary Tony Williams plays bongos on a frenetic Afro-bossa version of “Black Orchid”. Extras: None. JOHN LEWIS

42 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021


ARCHIVE SLEEVE NOTES

Loungewizard: LennoninLA

JOHN LENNON/ PLASTIC ONO BAND John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band: The Ultimate Collection 10/10

CAPITOL/UMC

John and Yoko’s debuts, in microscopic detail. By Tom Pinnock FOR John Lennon’s 30th birthday, Yoko Ono presented him with a sensory box. Fingers could be inserted into holes containing different materials: liquid, say, or a spike. It was a hit, though you’d be forgiven for thinking the birthday boy might’ve preferred something less surprising. After all, it’d been a turbulent old year. The Beatles were over. Lennon and Ono had embarked on primal scream therapy, during which Lennon had examined his feelings of abandonment and his grief over his mother’s death. To top it all, he had been unexpectedly reunited with his estranged father Alfred; they celebrated his 30th at Tittenhurst Park, an event that ended with Lennon Jr threatening to kill Lennon Sr. By that point he was halfway through the recording of his first solo album: a visceral monument to his pain, it marks the peak of the confessional songwriting style he’d dabbled with since 1964’s “I’m A Loser”, and which had now become his sole métier. At points it feels closer to modern art than music. That’s not just down to the presence of Yoko Ono on “wind”: this is a record you delve into occasionall w en you need to feel somethi wouldn’t be seen dead h around with McCartney. Fifty-one years after its release, it’s now reincarnated as an eight-disc super deluxe boxset comprising 11 hours of material, all newly mixed and a hu tranche of it previously

unreleased. The ‘ultimate mix’ CD presents the original in all its tenebrous beauty, leavened at times by a soulful feel, like deconstructed gospel on “God” and “Mother”. Then there’s the following set of themed CDs, all with the standard album tracklisting plus previous singles “Give Peace A Chance”, “Cold Turkey” and “Instant Karma!”: outtakes, “elements” (new mixes highlighting a key part or two), demos, raw studio mixes and, finally, collages showing the evolution of the songs. Fascinating changes can be charted: “Hold On” begins as just guitar and vocals, before Take 2 introduces a double-time beat from RingoStarr and some nifty fills, and bass chords from Klaus Voormann. “OK, that’ll do,” says Lennon, “we don’t want to get… berserk.” “Mother” seems to have been the most difficult song to perfect – Take 61 features the familiar piano and wracked vocals, but by Take 91 Lennon is back strumming guitar before eventually returning to piano. “It’s hard to believe [the lyrics] all the way through without being on junk,” laments Lennon to Starr after one aborted take. From its acoustic-blues demo, more Southern porch than Tittenhurst terrace, “Well Well Well” is consistently thrilling “ i ell!” e s the garde x is nous ing as tion”. t Me” tried variety ays, olo and

6CD+2BLU-RAY BOX CD1: The Ultimate Mixes CD2: The Ultimate Mixes/Outtakes CD3: The Elements Mixes CD4: The Raw Studio Mixes 1 Mother/Take 64 2 Hold On/Take 32 3 I Found Out/Take 3 Extended 4 Working Class Hero/ Take 9 5 Isolation/Take 29 6 Remember/Take 13 7 Love/Take 37 8 Well Well Well/ Take 4 Extended 9 Look At Me/Take 9 10 God/Take 42 11 My Mummy’s Dead/Take 1 12 Give Peace A Chance/Take 4 Extended 13 Cold Turkey/Take 2 14 Instant Karma! (We All Shine On)/Take 10 15 Mother/Take 91 16 I Found Out/Take 7 17 God/Take 1 CD5: The Evolution Doc CD6: The Jams & The Demos 1-22 jams 23 Mother (Home Demo) 24 Hold On (Studio Demo) 25 I Found Out (Home Demo) 26 Working Class Hero (Studio Demo) 27 Isolation (Studio Demo) 28 Remember (Studio Demo) 29 Love (Home Demo) 30 Well Well Well (Home Demo) 31 Look At Me (Home Demo) 32 God (Home Demo) 33 My Mummy’s Dead (Home Demo) Blu-ray 1: Half the previous discs in hidef/Atmos/Surround Blu-ray 2: The other half + Ono sessions 1 Why 2 Why Not 3 Greenfield Morning/ I Pushed An Empty Baby Carriage All Over The City 4 Touch Me 5 Paper Shoes 6 Life 7 Omae No Okaa We 8 I Lost Myself Somewhere In The Sky 9 Remember Love 10 Don’t Worry Kyoko (Mummy’s Only Looking For A Hand In The Snow) 11 Who Has Seen The Wind?

strummed, as a full band version, and then finally in the familiar picked ‘White Album’ style à la “Julia”. “Instant Karma!” appears in a few iterations with its blanket of slapback echo absent; most enlightening is the rootsy, Stax-like studio demo with George Harrison on nimble lead guitar. The “elements” mix of “Cold Turkey”, meanwhile, foregrounds a stunning feedback drone throughout the taut funk. Such is the volume of material here, one can forgive the low points, such as the seven practically indistinguishable versions of “My Mummy’s Dead”. Despite its dark subject matter, sessions seem to have been relaxed, with rapport beautifully portrayed in the “evolution documentary” mixes: “You’re talking to folk-blues from the north of Liverpool, you know,” Lennon jokes when he’s asked to count in a track, “you’re not talking to fackin’ Mantovani…” Later, to Phil Spector, “They’re all very slow, except for the fast ones”; and during work on “Isolation”, “We’ll go and hear what we’re doing shall we, gang, before we turn into Edmundo Ros and his jazz quartet.” Particularly touching is Lennon’s scream of “George!” when Harrison enters the studio on his birthday. The rarest jewels, though, lie in the two outlying discs. The “jams” disc presents, in chronological order, between-take improvisations from Lennon, Starr and Voorman, from a hilarious parody of three Elvis Presley songs to snippets of “Get Back” and “I’ve Got A Feeling”. Of course, Yoko Ono also made her own Plastic Ono Band record – Lennon told Rolling Stone it was “20 years ahead of its time”, but it’s even further out than that – and the final disc, a packed Blu-ray, presents the epic October 10 sessions in full. Eighteen minutes long, “Why” is electrifyingly modern, predicting Funkadelic and Neu!, while the 16-minute “Touch Me” and 21-minute “Why Not” find Lennon showing off what he called his “cinéma vérité” slide guitar style and Ono conjuring up the most otherworldly sounds to whip on Lennon, Starr and Voormann. Unreleased jams “Life”, “Omae No Okaa Wa” and the freeform “I Lost Myself Somewhere In The Sky” are also prescient, the former eerily Can-like in its cyclical beat, high bass guitar and echoed, abstract wails. Unlike Lennon’s anguished record, Ono’s work here is life-affirming, her pain reborn as transcendence. Honesty would, for better or worse, remain Lennon’s policy for the rest of his career, but he would never make anything quite like John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band. As much of a sensory box as a pop record, it remains as arresting and difficult as it was 51 years ago. And, as the man said, that’s reality. Extras: 8/10. The super deluxe set includes two postcards, a poster and a 132-page hardback book. 1CD, 2CD and 2LP versions also available. JUNE2021•UNCUT•43


ARCHIVE

REDISCOVERED

Uncovering the underrated and overlooked

CONRAD SCHNITZLER Paracon (The Paragon Session Outtakes 1978-1979) BUREAU B

8/10

Rogér Fakhr: summoning a sense of melancholy disorientation

ROGÉR FAKHR Fine Anyway HABIBI FUNK

8/10

RAYMOND SABBAH’S ARCHIVE

Long-buried treasure from late-’70s Lebanon BEFORE Beirut was wrecked by the civil war fought in its streets between 1975 and 1990, it was called “the Paris of the East”. It was a city of bars and boulevards, philosophers and poets – and, it could readily be imagined, wry and reflective singer-songwriters of the calibre of Rogér Fakhr, crooning in some cool café amid mists of arak fumes and Gauloises smoke. The tracks on Fine Anyway were recorded in Beirut in 1977 and Paris in 1978. Fakhr was, by then, living between the two, busking on the Metro in the latter: balancing, like many Lebanese of the time, the danger of home against the loneliness of exile. It’s unclear just how much this melancholy disorientation directly informed his material, but these songs do not want for a sense of melancholy disorientation. Reference points, contemporary and subsequent, include John Prine, Gordon Lightfoot, Lee Hazlewood, Elliott Smith and Gene Clark. Crucially, Fakhr would not be out of place in their company. The greatest of these songs are extraordinary. Fakhr created this music against rather considerable odds, which may go some way towards explaining why it has barely been heard. Some of these recordings were originally circulated on cassettes among a mere handful In the studio of cognoscenti (and they have with Fakhr the background hiss to prove it), (right) some of them have never been released at all. Fakhr’s own modesty has also been an obstacle. But after he agreed to contribute to a Habibi funk compilation in aid of Beirut following last year’s explosion in the city’s port, he agreed to this. It’s difficult, on listening to Fine Anyway, to altogether suppress outrage that this fine 44 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

material has been so long unavailable. The more straightforwardly singer-songwriter cuts set Fakhr’s husky, plaintive voice to intricately picked acoustic guitar, occasionally augmented by flute, piano or tambourine. Some, such as “Lady Rain” and “My Baby, She Is As Down As I Am”, are exquisitely mournful. Others, like “Insomnia Blue” and “Everything You Want”, are more upbeat, gently essaying a slight country-rock swagger (there’s a parallel universe in which either or both of these were covered by Emmylou Harris and made Fakhr wealthy beyond imagining). With a band in tow, Fakhr gets funkier: “Had To Come Back Wet” includes busy bass that buoys a surging electric piano; “The Wizard” sounds like something left in error off an early-’70s Byrds album. Little ties these recordings explicitly to the Lebanon of its time, give or take the coda of gunfire and air raid sirens on “Keep Going”. Fakhr seems to have been too ambitious to be a mere protest singer or a chronicler of events. He did not see why Lebanon’s circumstances should confine him – and, on the evidence of these wonderful songs, they didn’t. Extras: None.

ANDREW MUELLER

Hissing,fizzyelectronicsbya Germanmasterofthegenre An early member of both Tangerine Dream and Cluster – back when the latter were called Kluster – and founder of pre-krautrock improvising ensembles Geräusche and Eruption, Conrad Schnitzler was one of the true livewires of German experimental music. He never seemed comfortable with creating via the collective, though he was a strong collaborator, and he was a ridiculously profligate solo composer, leaving hundreds of micro-released albums of cold, ghostly electronics in his wake. Paracon unearths previously unheard material from his time spent working at Paragon, the studio run by Peter Baumann of Tangerine Dream. Some of Schnitzler’s best albums date from this era – Con and Con 3, in particular – and these sessions, co-authored with Wolfgang Seidel, are just as strong: pure, unadorned electronic music, plasmic radiances leaking from the studio as Schnitzler sets patterns in action and scrawls over them with wildstyle blats of plastic, gloopy noise. Extras: None. JON DALE

SEEFEEL

Succour (reissue, 1995) WARP

8/10

Lightindustrialdreamersrevived Seefeel seemed perfectly positioned at the junction of shoegaze, ambient and electronica in the mid-’90s but made little headway in any direction, fizzling out before briefly returning in 2010. Very much of its time, their music – a claustrophobic blend of dub, Cocteau Twins and new-world explorers Aphex Twin and Autechre – made most sense on Succour, their second album and first for Warp, which also forms part of the label’s new 45-track archive collection Rupt And Flex (1994-96) (the excellent “Starethrough” EP, precedingSuccour, is perhaps their most succinct statement). Heavily informed by Richard James, who’d stripped back their earlier single “Time To Find Me” to its essence, Mark Clifford and Sarah Peacock appeared to feel their way through a real pea-souper, cranking out menacing rave (“Vex”, with its whiplash rhythm) and mechanical dub (“Gatha”), Peacock’s voice dislocated and distant on “Rupt”, lost in the fog. Extras: 8/10. Another album of bruised ambient experiments that would lead to their Rephlex set Ch-Vox, also reissued and expanded.

PIERS MARTIN


ARCHIVE

THE SPECIALIST

SPIRITUALIZED

Lazer Guided Melodies

(reissue, 1992) FAT POSSUM

9/10

The Tylers: shape notes and stark beauty

CATH & PHIL TYLER Some Heavy Hand FERRIC MORDANT

8/10

Rare and unreleased folk gems from Richard Dawson-approved pair THE American art of Sacred Harp singing has spread far and wide since its inception in New England two centuries ago. And as societies continue to sprout across Canada, Australia, mainland Europe and the UK, the tradition has been vigorously upheld in the north-east of England by Cath & Phil Tyler. Prior to lockdown, the couple hosted a popular weekly night in Newcastle, while Cath is a Sacred Harp teacher of some repute. In simplistic terms, Sacred Harp singing is designed as a social experience rather than for an audience, using shape notes for ease of learning and rooted in four-part harmony hymns. There’s often something thrillingly elemental in its discharge, as befits the naked origins of the term itself (sacred harp refers to the human voice). This is just one facet of the Tylers’ music. Their interpretations of traditional song – drawn from both the US and Britain, often inviting a confluence of both – strip the source material to its core components, usually just voice and either banjo, acoustic guitar or fiddle. It’s an approach that’s sustained them for over 15 years now, in the form of live performances, collaborations and bare-bones studio albums. Prior to them tying the knot in 2003, Cath was once a member of shape-singing quartet Northampton Harmony in her native US, plus folk-punk outfit Cordelia’s Dad, who listed Steve Albini among 46 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

their producers. Multi-instrumentalist Phil, meanwhile, has long been a mainstay of the Tyneside scene in bands like Spraydog and, most recently, slowcore trio Bad Amputee. Some Heavy Hand is a riveting set that spans Cath & Phil Tyler’s career thus far, a refuge for waifs and strays that either didn’t make it onto their official albums or were cut for little-heard compilations. “Palms Of Victory” and “Amazing Grace” both date from their first ever recording session, at Brancepeth Castle in County Durham, in 2005. The former, a Methodist hymn once covered by The Carter Family, Bob Dylan and others, is a rousing plea for deliverance; the latter forgoes its customary feelgood zip for something altogether more sombre and considered. Originally done for Oak Ash Thorn, 2011’s Peter Bellamy tribute, “Our Fathers Of Old” is a stirring a cappella take on the Rudyard Kipling poem that skewers arrogant folly through the ages, each generation seemingly consigned to repeating the same mistakes. Life is rarely less than an endurance trial in these songs, be it the narrator of “Warfare” (gleaned from EC Ball’s version, here served by Cath’s pure, strident tones over stroked banjo) or the weary protagonist of “The Water Is Wide”, broken by love’s false promise. As stark as it is beautiful, Some Heavy Hand is a fine entry point for those yet to discover this beguiling duo. Extras: None.

ROB HUGHES

Vinylrepressserieskicksoffwithband’s peerlessdebut Jason Pierce unveiled Spiritualized while promoting the final Spacemen 3 album, Recurring; a difficult period when his relationship with former bandmate Pete Kember had become untenable. When other artists may have paused to take stock, Pierce forged ahead with Spiritualized – comprising his partner Kate Radley alongside former Spacemen cohorts Will Carruthers, Mark Refoy and Jonny Mattock. The work continues some of Pierce’s favoured Spacemen tropes – slow-motion gospel meets space rock – but Lazer Guided Melodies revealed a grander ambition. The songs here are meticulously detailed with multi-layered vocals and string arrangements. Indeed, it’s hard not to fall into the album’s anaesthetised splendour – “Run”, the VU-style retooling of JJ Cale’s “They Call Me The Breeze”; “Shine A Light”, Astral Weeks with feedback; “Step Into The Breeze”, a lysergic riff on Lou Reed’s “Street Hassle”; the loping blues of “200 Bars”. Pierce developed his sonic obsessions through subsequent Spiritualized releases but Lazer Guided Melodies reminds us just how remarkably focused his original vision was. Extras: 6/10. Reworked art, indie copies available on white vinyl, 180g double LP mastered from a half-speed lacquer cut from original sources. MICHAEL BONNER

DENIZ TEK

Take It To The Vertical (reissue, 1992) WILD HONEY

7/10

RadioBirdmanfounder’ssolo debutrevisited After moving down to Australia in the early ’70s, this Michigan-raised Stooges acolyte blazed a trail for Antipodean proto-punk with Radio Birdman. His solo career finally began in earnest (after various unsuccessful projects) with this 1992 album, assisted by The Stooges’ Scott Asheton on drums (he remains close to his old Ann Arbor pals, as last year’s Two To One album with James Williamson reflects). Although it’s long deleted, the high regard this album retains among punk collectors is justified by the zip of these 11 songs. Tek’s come some way from Radio Birdman’s lip-curled noise; indeed, there’s an acoustic-based country twang to “Don’t Axe Me” and pungent whiffs of rockabilly in “Me & Gene” and “Where Dreams Go”. But throughout, his gutsy, neurotic guitar style, along with the urgent tempo and angsty energy he always relied on (plus the distinctly Iggy-esque charisma of his vocals) keep the blood pumping reliably enough. Extras: 6/10. Previously unreleased bonus track “Ships In”. JOHNNY SHARP

SHARON VAN ETTEN Epic Ten BA DA BING 8/10

Tenth-anniversary tribute to artistic tipping point


ARCHIVE VARIOUS ARTISTS

Shake The Foundations: Militant Funk & The Post-Punk Dancefloor 1978-1984 CHERRY RED

6/10

A decadeon, Sharon Van Etten sees second album Epic as an artistic “crossroads”: her first full-band album and the point at which, when she toured, “people showed up”. At little more than 30 minutes and seven tracks in length, the album’s title was both a knowing wink and a nod to the ferocious performance within: the transitional “A Crime”, on which Van Etten shreds an acoustic guitar while excoriating both an old love and her own naiveté; the slow build of “Peace Signs”; and the experimental drone of “Dsharpg”. The, closing track, “Love More” has lost none of its weighty, wounded potency. Extras:8/10. New artwork and bonus full-length covers compilation performed by artists selected by Van Etten. Highlights include Idles’ explosive “Peace Signs”; St Panther unlocking the irresistible pop heart of “One Day”; and “Love More” given a rhythmic, world-weary makeover by Fiona Apple. LISA-MARIEFERLA

VARIOUS ARTISTS

DoYouHaveTheForce?(Jon Savage’sAlternativeHistory OfElectronica1978-82) CAROLINETRUE

8/10

Inspiredromparoundpost-punk’s electronicdiaspora “Disco was a grid you could pour anything into,” observes the writer Jon Savage in the sleevenotes for Do You Have The Force?. He then proves his point with this riveting exploration of the strange new world that took shape after disco and punk had run their course. Looking to construct a coherent narrative across a period pregnant with possibility, Savage selects a mix of cult classics and unimprovable oddities, joining the dots between Euro synthesiser gold (Transvolta’s “Disco Computer”, Harry Thurmann’s “Underwater”), obtuse art-funk (The Flying Lizards, Cabaret Voltaire) and US proto-techno (A Number Of Names’ “Sharevari”,

a Mexican mega-mix of Patrick Cowley hits). Throw in more of such mischief bySuicide, Slick andMonotonandyou can see why, to many, these tracks are considered to be every bit as significant to the development of electronic music as the standards by Gary Numan, New Order and Kraftwerk. Extras:Extensive liner notes.

PIERS MARTIN

VARIOUS ARTISTS

EdoFunkExplosionVol.1 ANALOGAFRICA

7/10

Vintagecrate-diggingtreasure fromNigeria In the late 1970s and early 1980s, a new hybrid strain of Afrobeat emerged from Benin City, the capital of Edo State in southern Nigeria. The new style mixed West African high-life elements with funk, reggae, disco and the traditional folk styles of pre-colonial Edo culture. Concentrating on just three of the scene’s main players, this hugely charming anthology showcases the grainy-warm croon and alluringly wonky analogue keyboard tinkles of Akaba Man (aka policeman-turnedpop-star Roland Igunma Igbinigie), as well as the shiny, brassy, minimalist party grooves of the rather splendidly named Sir Victor Uwaifo and His Titibitis. The stand-out presence here, however, is Osayomore Joseph, included here both as a solo artist and with various backing groups. Credited with bringing the flute and increasingly politicised lyrics into Edo funk, Joseph smuggles barbed social commentary into his deceptively laid-back and quite funny songs. Over intertwined vocal harmonies, rock-steady rhythms and staccato guitar stabs, he cautions well against the destructive power of greed on “My Name Is Money” and mocks the legacy of colonialism on “Africa Is My Root”: “You are dancing like a fool,” he sings with a laugh, “you are dancing like a white man.” We’ll take more of this please. Extras:None. STEPHEN DALTON

JONDALE

ALAN VEGA Mutator SACREDBONES

8/10

Firstreleasefromthearchival VegaVaultsetsthebarhigh So prolific was Alan Vega during the ’90s that he’d sometimes move onto another project without having finished the last one. Recorded in New York with his wife and regular foil Liz Lamere during 1995-’96, Mutator was a case in point, as Vega toggled between sessions with Alex Chilton,

COMING NEXT MONTH... here are new records on horizon from Hiss T the Golden Messenger, Lucy

Dacus, Billy F Gibbons, Rose City Band and Damien Jurado, plus a very special collaborative album from master guitaritsts Marisa Anderson and William Tyler. Archivally speaking, we’re expecting notable reissues from Grateful Dead, with their live ‘Skull & Roses’ record, and Hailu Mergia & The Walias Band, whose 1975 album Tezeta, originally available only on cassette, is seeing its first ever vinyl release. EMAIL: TOM.PINNOCK@UNCUT.CO.UK

Ric Ocasek, Suicide bandmate Martin Rev and others. The forgotten tapes were only rediscovered in 2019, since when they’ve been diligently mixed and produced by Lamere and good friend Jared Artaud of The Vacant Lots. Bold, sunless and fabulously unsettling it all is too, with Vega’s stentorian growl echoing over stuttery beats and disorientating synth pulses. Repetition often seems like the key to submission, particularly on “Filthy”, in which Vega sounds like a darkwave Mark E Smith. “Fist” is every bit as punishing, the pair taking the same savage intensity into “Nike Soldier”. When Vega finally declares “the show is over” on “Breathe”, it’s delivered with a knowing smirk. Extras:None.

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ALAN HEMPSALL

History lessons: Jon Savage, 1981

Patchy,sometimesinspiredpunkfunk-electro-etcexplorations It was often tough to tell exactly what was so ‘militant’ about the music made when postpunk and funk met in the late ’70s and early ’80s, beyond some lazy imagery and vague proclamations. Shake The Foundationsexplores that moment of interaction in the UK, sub-genre staples such as The Pop Group rubbing shoulders with lesser lights like Kissing The Pink. Generally speaking, the more idiosyncratic the selection, the more compelling it is: see the late-night glimmer of Furniture’s “Why Are We In Love” and the corroded squalling of The 012’s “AsbestosLead Asbestos”. It’s expertly compiled and thorough, which is in awaythe compilation’s Achilles’ heel; a leaner selection of highlights would make for a far moreedifying listeningexperience. Shake The Foundationsis anaccurate representation of its field, taking in both its achievements and its many foibles–asmart butpatchycollection. Extras:6/10. Extensive liner notes.


RHIANNON GIDDENS THEY’RE CALLING ME HOME with Francesco Turrisi

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We are not a muse: Marianne Faithfull, April 2018


MARIANNE FAITHFULL

“I managed not todie!” After being hospitalised with Covid 19, MARIANNE FAITHFULL went on to finish She Walks In Beauty – the latest instalment in her remarkable career as rock’s most regal survivor. She tells Laura Barton about recovery, Romantic poetry and how, perhaps, the ’60s weren’t all they were cracked up to be. “I really wasn’t a good muse…” Photo by YANN ORHAN

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HE old St Joseph’s Convent school, a red-bricked, broadlawned building founded by the Sisters of St Marie Madeleine Postel, lies close to the centre of Reading. Marianne Faithfull first came here at the age of eight. By sixth form, her main enthusiasm was English literature. “I sat somewhere near the middle – near the front, but not exactly at the front,” she says. “It wasn’t a very big class, but it was very important to me.” This spring, Faithfull releases her 22nd studio album, She Walks In Beauty, a spoken-word collection of some of her favourite Romantic poetry, scored by the composer and multiinstrumentalist Warren Ellis, with contributions from Nick Cave, Brain Eno and Vincent Ségal. It is a crowning moment in her career; the product of a long-held ambition to interpret works by Keats, Shelley, Tennyson and their contemporaries that she has carried close since St Joseph’s. Cave calls it “the greatest Marianne Faithfull album ever. And that’s saying something.” Ellis, meanwhile, describes it to Uncut as “this incredible thing, this kind of wonder. This bit of a little miracle.” On a midweek afternoon, Faithfull, 74, is at home in Putney, south-west London, batting away questions about ’60s infamy to recall the formative influence of Palgrave’s Golden Treasury and her English teacher, Mrs Simpson. “She was very ordinary, she had white hair and glasses,” she says. “But she was really, really good. I liked her so much, and she taught me all JUNE 2021 • UNCUT • 49


With her mother, Eva von Sacher-Masoch, Baroness Erisso, at their cottage, November 22, 1970

At home with friends from St Joseph’s Convent, October 15, 1964

CA/REDFERNS;DAILY RECORD/MIRRORPIX/MIRRORPIX VIA GETTY IMAGES; JOHNPRATT/KEYSTONE FEATURES/GETTY IMAGES; LEONARD BURT/CENTRAL PRESS/GETTY IMAGES

At Television House on London’s Kingsway, 1965

this stuff about the Romantics. She taught me for that first year, and then of course I was torn away, and I was discovered…” The story of how Marianne Faithfull was discovered – a teenage ingénue fêted by the in-crowd and caught up with the Stones, then duly lost to scandal and addiction, has coloured much of her career. For a long time, the popular imagination carried her as a kind of tragic muse, a victim of her own beauty and the era’s excesses. Later it recast her as a fighter, a treasure, an artist of indefatigable spirit. Today, she sounds determined and faintly amused. She has a deeply fragrant voice, grown a little hoarse following a serious altercation with Covid that kept her in hospital for several weeks last spring. “I got terribly ill. I don’t really remember it, but apparently I almost died,” she says. “I managed not to die.” Still, the effects of the illness have lingered – she warns we might have to conduct our interview in segments, to allow her breaks to recalibrate. “It’s been very hard to cope with,” she explains. “Particularly my lungs, because I used to smoke, and I have of course got emphysema or whatever they call it now.” She pauses. “It’s got another name, and that’s the big problem – my memory, and the fatigue. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be talking about this! Not the point!” The point is that before she contracted Covid, Faithfull had begun work on She Walks In Beauty. “When I came out of hospital I finished it,” she says. “I was worried: would I be able to do it? But I was, amazingly enough. It’s a miracle, really. It’s beautiful, because the ones

I did post-Covid are very, very vulnerable and that’s kind of lovely.” Faithfull’s literary devotion has been evident across her career. Visitors to her old Paris apartment would often note that half the singer’s bed had been given over to books. Allen Ginsberg once referred to her as “Professor of Poetics, at the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poets”. She played Ophelia in Tony Richardson’s 1965 production of Hamlet and the Devil in William Burroughs and Tom Waits’ musical The Black Rider, while over the years she has recorded work by Shakespeare, Frank McGuinness and a version of Heathcote Williams’ expletive-laden poem “Why D’Ya Do It”. Some days she thinks back to the lessons with Mrs Simpson, to the time when she thought she might like to go to Oxford to read English literature. But there has been little regret at the path chosen, no yearning for a return to academia. “I couldn’t have gone back to the convent after that experience,” she says. “It took me a while to accept my life had changed, forever. And then to give myself happily to it.”

MARIANNE FAITHFULL

50 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

Bard dreams: with Hamlet co-stars Judy Parfitt and Nicol Williamson and director Tony Richardson, 1969

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N many ways, Faithfull is an exquisite representation of an old world that the cultural revolution of the ’60s sought to subvert: the noble lineage, the convent-school education, the demure, doe-eyed beauty. It transpires that her upbringing was somewhat messier than the romanticised version might allow. Her maternal grandparents, members of the Austro-Hungarian aristocracy, had weathered the horror of wartime Europe. Her mother, a former ballet dancer, had relocated to the UK, to live somewhat incongruously on a terraced street in Reading, where the neighbours remember her wearing sheepskin coats and high heels, walking her pedigree dogs. Faithfull’s parents divorced when she was young and weekends away from school were sometimes spent with her father, an intelligence officer turned academic, on a commune in Oxfordshire. “I first met Marianne when John Dunbar brought her to London,” recalls the musician, manager and producer Peter Asher. Dunbar was an art student who in late 1965 founded the Indica Gallery with Asher and Barry Miles. “Everything John had said [about her] was true,” Asher says. “She was unspeakably gorgeous, smart, clever, well read, charming. We were incredibly impressed.” The pair married in 1965 and had a son that same year. Asher introduced Faithfull to Rolling Stones manager Andrew Loog Oldham, who persuaded her to make a record, Jagger/ Richards’ “As Tears Go By” – a melancholy ballad that reached No 9 in the charts. “I think it’s the first good song they wrote and it’s a really good song,” says Asher. Later, Faithfull would be damning about “As Tears Go By”, describing it as “a marketable portrait of me… a commercial fantasy that pushes all the right buttons.”


A buyer’s guide to Marianne BROKEN ENGLISH (1979)

Twelve years after her last major-label release, Faithfull returned with a raw, ferocious collection of songs, ushering in a new era for her voice: now world-weary and deeply affecting. Featuring Steve Winwood on keyboards, Broken English earned a Grammy nomination. Faithfull referred to this album as her “masterpiece”.

STRANGE WEATHER (1987)

Post-rehab, Faithfull entered the studio with producer Hal Willner, with whom she had previously worked on a Kurt Weill tribute. All covers, the material here includes Lead Belly, Bob Dylan and the title track – written by Tom Waits and Kathleen Brennan.

“Don’t call him Byronic!”: with Mick Jagger at Castletown Mansion in Ireland, August 1968

(2004)

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OR almost a decade, Faithfull did not release any music. She ended her relationship with Jagger, lost custody of her son, attempted suicide and for a time lived homeless on the streets of Soho. Friends tried to help, enrolling her on treatment programmes, attempting to revive her career, but to no avail. In 1979, by then married to the Vibrators’ Ben Brierly, she made her great musical return. She says, “By the time I got to Broken English, I had made a big commitment to my destiny, I suppose, as a musician.” Broken English did not sound like the Marianne Faithfull of old. It was synth-led new wave, punk, blues and reggae, while the singer’s voice, affected by severe laryngitis and drug abuse, had acquired a weathered and more worldly quality. The songs, too, with their tales of Catholic guilt, middleclass housewives and cheated lovers, held a new kind of fire. “It was the beginning of me becoming myself,” Faithfull acknowledges. “Only the beginning really, but it was a very good one.” It is testament to Faithfull’s self-determination that despite the turbulent years – and there were many more following Broken English – she felt able to rise again. “I was born with lots of confidence,” she says. “It was chipped away slowly by life, but I’m pretty sound. I know what I can do.” In 1987 she released the extraordinary Strange Weather. Produced by Hal Willner, it was recorded following Faithfull’s recovery from a 17-year addiction to heroin, her divorce from Brierly and the suicide of her new partner, Howard Tose. Bill Frisell played guitar across the record. “When we recorded the version of ‘As Tears Go By’ for that album it started out with just the two of us,” he remembers. “I’m playing

Bringing in PJ Harvey, Nick Cave, Damon Albarn and Jon Brion, Faithfull’s 17th album continued the work of its predecessor, Kissin Time, in cementing the singer as an artist venerated by a new generation of musicians.

GIVE MY LOVE TO LONDON (2014)

Once again, Faithfull combines select covers – Roger Waters’ “Sparrows Will Sing”, Leonard Cohen’s “Going Home” – with co-writes involving newer artists such as Patrick Leonard and Anna Calvi.

NEGATIVE CAPABILITY (2018)

Faithfull calls this the “most honest” album of her career. Among its 10 tracks are a response to the terrorist attack on the Bataclan in Paris and collaborations with Nick Cave, Ed Harcourt and Mark Lanegan. The album title is a nod to Romantic poet John Keats. “Becoming myself”: Faithfull in London, 1976

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But she recorded it twice more – for 1987’s Strange Weather and again on 2018’s Negative Capability. Faithfull has always been an intuitive interpreter of other people’s material – evidently, this extends to the song that brought her early success. But the events that followed that initial flush have the feel of a furious dominotopple. Certainly, the sweetness of the early ’60s that Asher describes as “that having fun phenomenon” tipped into something darker. Faithfull’s self-titled debut, released just before her marriage, was a success in both the UK and US. Her ascendence, the thrill of the times, was clearly quite at odds with the idea of settled family life. She left Dunbar the following year, began a well-documented relationship with Mick Jagger, released two more albums, starred in several films and somehow also found time to establish a serious drug habit. “I did have fun in the ’60s, but I also found it really hard,” Faithfull admits. “I never quite get that – everybody goes on and on about how great the ’60s were. I thought they were difficult.” For some while she bore some resentment towards Loog Oldham and his associates – “Absolute cunts!” she says bluntly. “But I’ve kind of forgiven them now. I decided it was time to get over all that. But I would never work with them again.” It must have been particularly difficult to be such a creative person, but perpetually cast as little more than a rock star’s muse? “I really wasn’t a good muse!” she says. “I was a very bad muse! It is a rotten job.” What would’ve made you a good muse? “I don’t think you can be a good muse,” she laughs. “You’ve got to die of consumption!” That would’ve been unfortunate, considering everything else you’ve overcome. “Are you trying to say I’ve been through a very difficult time?” Faithfull asks, her tone archful. No, I just don’t think consumption would have got you. She laughs. “No, I don’t think so either!”

BEFORE THE POISON


With Warren Ellis, her collaborator on new album She Walks In Beauty, October 2020

ROSIE MATHESON; MICHAEL PUTLAND/GETTY IMAGES; PASCAL LE SEGRETAIN/FRENCH SELECT/GETTY IMAGES

Recording in June 1982

guitar and I can picture her – she was in the booth, and we were all still smoking cigarettes, so there was this haze, and it was like, ‘Wow!’” He was struck by her voice of course, but also by her demeanour. “It’s like she’s not afraid. She’ll say something amazingly blunt – it’s like you can hear in the music, like there’s a badass ‘Fuck you.’” Those who have known or worked with Faithfull often mention her strength. It is a quality that has come to reside, too, in her voice – now possessed of a peaty, bog-rich beauty. Producer Rob Ellis began collaborating with Faithfull in 2003, recording the songs that became Before The Poison. “It was a striking voice for anyone, let alone for a woman,” he says. He remembers when Faithfull re-recorded “As Tears Go By” for Negative Capability, how he stood beside his co-producers Warren Ellis and Head, and as she sang, the three of them burst into tears. For Faithfull, the great turning point in her career came when François Revard became her manager. There was a new sense that, “I didn’t have to do it alone,” she says. “I began to realise I could do much, much more interesting things. So I made what I think are some of the best records of my life.” Among them is 2014’s Give My Love To London, which paired Faithfull with a range of songwriters, from Tom McRae to Anna Calvi, Nick Cave and Ed Harcourt. “The process is she writes lyrics and then she works with people to put them to music,” McRae explains. He recalls it as a week of “sitting eating our artichokes and listening to Nick Cave and writing songs” in her apartment in Paris. “Entering the court of Marianne”, as he puts it. “It’s a lovely, large, high-ceilinged, book-lined flat. You get the feeling she’s

With Anna Calvi backstage at L’Olympia in Paris, Nov 20, 2014 52 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

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WARREN ELLIS Prospero, surrounded by her books of magic.” It was a similar experience for Anna Calvi. She is keen that amid all the collaborations, Faithfull’s songwriting talent not be overlooked. “I was there with a guitar, and I played some chords, but you know, I wouldn’t want to take away at all from that being her song,” she says. McRae, too, is a great admirer of Faithfull as a lyricist, of her profound understanding of language and rhythm. “She’s such a mad fan of poetry,” he says. “That’s obvious on the latest record, and that’s clearly what she’s saying as her final triangulation of her artistic personality: I am this sort-of poet.”

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ARREN Ellis became friends with Marianne Faithfull close to 20 years ago. For some time they lived near to one another in Paris and Ellis would visit her apartment where they watched afternoon TV together. “I love Marianne dearly,” he says. “She’s just one of my best friends.” Last spring, Faithfull sent him some recordings she had made. These were readings from a selection of her favourite Romantic poems, including Thomas Hood’s “The Bridge Of Sighs”, Tennyson’s “The Lady Of Shallot”, and Keats’s “La Belle Dame Sans Merci”, that she recorded in a makeshift studio, set up in her spare bedroom by Head. Ellis had worked alongside Head and

Rob Ellis on her previous album, Negative Capability, so it seemed natural that their collaboration continue. But these recordings held a new poignancy: Faithfull was already in hospital, gravely ill with Covid. “So I was sent these poems with the thought that maybe that’s the last thing she’ll do,” he says. “It was the start of the lockdown,” he continues. “I just sat in my studio and started looking for what to put with these texts.” His idea was “to give it some kind of light, but not get in her way,” taking inspiration from Jim Parker’s recordings with John Betjeman and Gil Scott-Heron’s final album, I’m New Here. “It didn’t need acoustic guitars and harpsichord and things like that,” Ellis says. “The text is so timeless, it doesn’t feel grounded in the century it was written. So I wanted to put music that doesn’t have a time and place.” This sense of temporal suspension also suited those early months of the pandemic, as Ellis found his way through isolation in Paris. “It took up the whole lockdown,” he remembers. “The reading of the poems became a form of meditation for me. I sat there for weeks and weeks with this music going around and round. I could just leave it on for 10 hours, Marianne banging away, these poems on repeat. Even when I could eventually get out, I’d just ride around the city on a bike, listening to it.” There was a hope he found in Faithfull’s recordings, her chosen texts. “The world had been shut down and there was so much negative


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HERE have been a lot of big names in Faithfull’s life: friends, lovers, svengalis, collaborators. But in this second phase of her career, the balance of power has shifted. For the past three decades she has been the touchstone to which younger artists have been drawn. She talks about them now with vast affection: “I love Polly Harvey! And Cat Power, wonderful girl,” she says. “Jarvis Cocker, I love. And that wonderful boy – my memory drives me crazy! Just give me a minute, hang on. Oh God… Blur!” Damon Albarn? “Yes! Damon, and Alex, and all of them, actually. I really fell in love with them all and we had a wonderful time. Well, I had a wonderful time. I hope they did too.” Such collaborations have led to some of the most fascinating, exploratory and self-assured music of her career. To Peter Asher these later records have been “triumphant”. Tom McRae describes them as the sound of Faithfull “bashing her way out of the constraints of whatever corner

Nun the wiser: with David Bowie in The 1980 Floor Show, October 20, 1973

the press and British rock culture had pushed her into. She was becoming this other thing.” “A different person having that same beginning as Marianne could have had the career of Twinkle,” Asher notes, her appeal reliant on being “young and beautiful with a beautiful soprano voice”. Today, Faithfull’s work as lyricist, singer, interpreter of song, has eclipsed that of many of her ’60s contemporaries; some way into her seventies, she is still a vibrantly creative force. “I don’t think she would want her lasting epitaph to be what she did in her rock’n’roll life,” McRae says, “rather than the fact she tried her best to make great records and to find a poetic voice.” Faithfull’s voice lends itself well to spoken word – Warren Ellis compares it to Richard Burton. But if there is one poem she wishes she could have sung it is “So We’ll Go No More A-Roving”, written by Byron in a period of convalescence. “It’s very simple,” Faithfull explains. “It really is a song, and I love it for that.” In recent months the poem has taken on new weight for Faithfull. After many years spent living in Paris, she moved back to the UK a couple of years ago. “I feel like a European, I really do – I don’t really feel English,” she says. “But I came back because I really wanted to spend time with and show my love to my son and my grandchildren.” Still, she misses the movement of life. “I would like to go to Stratford,” she says. “I’d like to go to the opera, to the ballet, to rock shows. I’d like to see my grandson in his band.” She sits in the immovability for a moment. “We can’t do anything,” she concludes. Perhaps those days will come again, I suggest, when the world opens up once more. She is unconvinced: “I’m 74 now,” she says. Oh, you’ve still got a bit of roving in you, I tell her, and she laughs. “Probably,” she says. “Yes, probably.” She Walks In Beauty is released by BMG on April 30

Five classic collaborations DAVID BOWIE “I GOT YOU BABE” (1973)

In October 1973, David Bowie recorded The 1980 Floor Show at London’s Marquee. The finale saw Bowie, in red PVC and black ostrich feathers, accompanied by Faithfull in a backless nun’s habit, delivering a stunning rendition of the Sonny & Cher duet.

METALLICA “THE MEMORY REMAINS” (1997)

James Hetfield brought in Faithfull for this track about an artist who loses her mind when she loses her fame, because of her “weathered, smellin’-thecigarettes-on-the-CD voice”, which matched “the whole eeriness of the Sunset Boulevard feel of the song”.

JARVIS COCKER “SLIDING THROUGH LIFE ON CHARM” (2002) Faithfull had been struggling to write this biographical On stage with Metallica at San Francisco’s Fillmore, December 7, 2011

number for 20 years when she instructed Cocker to “take this title and go and write a song from it”. It took Cocker a year and a half to write. “Then it took another year and a half before I understood it enough to record it,” she said.

PJ HARVEY “BEFORE THE POISON” (2004)

Harvey co-produced 2004’s Before The Poison, gave Faithfull three of its songs and co-wrote two others, including the title track. It’s one of Faithfull’s most desolate songs, her voice a perfect fit for the raw-boned style of Harvey’s playing.

CAT POWER “HOLD ON, HOLD ON” (2008)

Faithfull and Chan Marshall duetted on this Neko Case number for the covers album Easy Come, Easy Go. Faithfull is to the fore, all gravel and breath, while Marshall stands slightly behind and beneath.

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information,” Ellis says. “I didn’t even know if Marianne was going to survive. We’d lost Hal [Willner, one of Faithfull’s longtime collaborators, who died from Covid last April]. But here was all this beautiful imagery. It was a reminder that we do good stuff – it was just such a balm for me. It celebrates life and it celebrates the awe of the text and the awe of the awe!” In the midst of these strange days, Ellis caught up with Nick Cave. He told him about the Faithfull recordings. Cave asked to hear them. “He listened to them on the telephone while I was on speakerphone.” Ellis remembers Cave’s response: “‘My God! This is unbelievable! This is so beautiful!’ Then… ‘Can I play on it?’” “Oh God, Warren and Nick and Brian and Vincent – I loved what they all did,” Faithfull says, as if gathering them to her breast. “All the piano and the cello is so important. And dear Brian Eno – he doesn’t usually, but I said to Warren: ‘I don’t want any synthesiser on this record, I want real instruments.’ That’s what they did. Brian does most of that sort of thing on synth, but he didn’t for this. He understood, I think, exactly.” Faithfull’s choice of texts are among the most lavish of the Romantic era. “I think they’re just beautiful,” she says. “I think they’re great for any adolescent, don’t you? They’re about love and sex and all that.” How much was the lifestyle and aesthetic of those particular poets echoed by the aristo-bohemian court of the Stones and ’60s rock in general? Was there something… Byronic about Jagger and Richards and their peers? “Yes, someone said that to me yesterday and I got really angry!” Faithfull laughs. “I can’t bear it when journalists always try to hook something up to Mick – I mean, Mick is highly intelligent and knows all these poems, but he didn’t have anything to do with this!” I apologise. “No it’s OK, I’ve got over it,” she says kindly. “That was yesterday. I’ve realised it’s normal to try and do that. To try and get more than one big name in the article, isn’t it?”


JAMES

Songs From Darkest Hour The

From Topanga Canyon to Costa Rica via Sheffield and Gairloch, JAMES have weathered the pandemic and personal loss to record an urgent new album, All The Colours Of You. But nearly 40 years after their beginnings in Manchester, what makes James… James? Graeme Thomson finds Tim Booth and his cohorts “still yearning for answers”.

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Photo by TOM OLDHAM

TOM OLDHAM/SHUTTERSTOCK

IM Booth reverses the camera on his computer to show me the view from his balcony. He points out an iguana crouching a few feet away, a blur of luminous lime scratching at the base of a fruit tree. “They fight and fuck on the tin roof above us,” he says happily. “Then you hear this noise, like something falling 30 feet.” Sex and death in close proximity. Quintessential James. In the background the Costa Rican countryside stretches out beneath a big sky, blue on green on brown. Looking radiant in a robe, Booth turns the camera back around and smiles. “It’s a long way from Manchester.” For the past 13 years the James vocalist has lived with his wife, dance maestra Kate Shela, and their teenage son, Luca, in Topanga Canyon on the fringes of Los Angeles. Last year, they were smoked out. “Within five miles of where we were living there would be wildfires nearly once a week,” says Booth. “They get put out quick, thank goodness, but if there’s a wind then you’re in trouble. We’ve lived with our bags packed and our most precious

54 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

possessions by the door for three or four months of the year for the past few years. It was only a matter of time. California is going to become climate-change inhospitable. There’s a slow exodus starting but it’s going to become a big one.” The move to Costa Rica is a test run for a permanent relocation: “My wife is a healer through movement work, and she’s been coming here for nine years. Me and Luca had been once before and loved it.” During lockdown, Luca has surfed every day. Booth recently took the plunge on his 61st birthday. The family exodus is recounted on “Beautiful Beaches”, a rousing track from the new James record, All The Colours Of You, an album that thrums with a sense of urgency both timely and slightly remarkable for a band entering its 40th year. Later, Uncut will catch up with founding member, bassist Jim Glennie, from his home a few miles outside Ullapool in the remote north-west of Scotland. The same day, multiinstrumentalist Saul Davies Skypes from Portugal. Though physically scattered, James are very much together. They are, after all, accustomed to flux. The group that emerged from Manchester’s febrile


“I have quite a positive outlook on death”: Tim Booth in 2007 JUNE 2021 • UNCUT • 55


ANDREWCOTTERILL; PAULDRINKWATER/NBCUPHOTOBANK/NBCUNIVERSALVIAGETTYIMAGESVIAGETTY IMAGES

The James gang, 2020: (l–r) Andy Diagram, Saul Davies, Adrian Oxaal, Jim Glennie, Tim Booth, Mark Hunter, David Baynton-Power

indie scene of the early 1980s has undergone numerous lineup changes, stylistic swerves, breakups and breakdowns and has rarely been easy to pin down. Originally signed to Factory, James rose during the heady days of Baggy, when “Come Home” and “Sit Down” became outlier indie-dance anthems. In the ’90s, during a fruitful collaboration with Brian Eno, the likes of “Laid”, “She’s A Star” and “Destiny Calling” shoved them into a short and awkward clinch with Britpop. Following a hiatus in the early ’00s, they have continued to flourish into middle age. The trials of the past year, however, threw up an urgent existential question: what makes James James? All The Colours Of You offers new and convincing answers. Though the band have not been in the same room since September 2019, in absentia they have made what they consider to be one of the finest records of their career. “We called this band James because it’s the name of a human being,” says Booth. “We want to be as multi-dimensional as a human, rather than as narrow as a band.” The chorus chant on another new track is both a mantra and a manifesto: “We’re all in, wherever it takes us…”

“THERE’S A MAGICAL LANGUAGE BETWEEN US” TIM BOOTH

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LL The Colours Of You was made in extreme circumstances. During its creation, James parted from their original producer, Booth lost his fatherin-law, while singer and band were separated by 5,000 miles. It only worked, says Glennie, because they already had the raw material for new songs – and because they’re old hands at improvisation. Every James album begins with the four songwriters – Booth, Glennie, Davies and keyboard played Mark Hunter – convening over several days to play without any 56 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

James acolyte Jacknife Lee,2013

discernible road map. “It’s one of the most difficult but fulfilling parts,” says Davies. “To get in a room with Jim, Mark and Tim and make a racket.” “It’s so delicate,” says Booth. “On the best days it’s ke we go into a trance. We’re listening to each other o intently that we create a third thing that’s separate o us. It may be the best and most joyful thing about eing in James. It’s private, it’s secret – a magical anguage between the four of us. It is the essence f what we are.” The path to All The Colours Of You began in July 2018 ith exploratory sessions in rural Yorkshire, then later n Sheffield and Gairloch, a village near Davies’ primary residence in Poolewe on the Scottish west coast. Afterwards, each member started working remotely on the long, formless musical pieces: chopping them up, adding, subtracting, shifting sections, exchanging ideas. The hard work, says Glennie, “is trying to cobble those hour jams into listenable five or six minutes that we call demos”. At this point in the creative process, James normally rent an Airbnb and come together again for a few weeks to finish the record. This time, it wasn’t possible. When the pandemic struck last March, Booth was in California, the rest of the band in Europe. They had studio time booked with producer Charlie Andrews, “but Covid made it really difficult”, says Booth. “Also, he ended up blowing us out for Alt-J! We love Charlie and we’ll hopefully make another record with him again.” Their record company forwarded names of potential new producers. They all seem astonished that Garret ‘Jacknife’ Lee – whose list of credits includes U2, REM and Taylor Swift – agreed to work with them. “He’d normally be out of our league,” says Booth. Fate lent a hand when Booth discovered that he and Lee lived in the same canyon, two


JAMES

Mega-star: Booth on stage at Womad, 1993

miles from each other. “I drove to his house in the pitch black up these winding canyon roads,” Booth recalls. “He’s got this fantastic man-cave with thousands of albums and keyboards. I was there for a couple of hours and I thought I’d been there 20 minutes. We just got on brilliantly.” Zooming Uncut from that “deconstructed studio”, strings of fairy lights illuminating his pink hair, Lee laughs. “I immediately liked Tim a lot. He’s the most talkative person I’ve ever met. He’s a really open human, very curious about his body and the possibilities of the mind. He was always drinking some weird tea. The leftovers looked like a sea sponge.” Days after their first meeting, Lee sent over a 30-second snippet of the title track. “I just burst out laughing,” says Booth. “I thought it was wonderful. He then constructed the whole song, and all four of us just giggled with glee at the craziness.” “They were giddy,” Lee confirms. “Giddiness is a very important thing. It doesn’t necessarily feel right but it makes you think, ‘Fuck, can we do that?’ You’re excited and a bit afraid.” Having nailed one song, they continued working track by track. “I got sent all the jams, which was a pleasure and a bit daunting,” says Lee. “They might play a sequence for 15 minutes, then deviate. Tim is singing things off the top of his head. Then they would identify bits that they liked. I d get on the phone to Saul and we’d talk about parts. It was like cracking a code. It wasn’t a one -way thing; we would respond to each other, but had they been in the room I don’t think I’d have been given the licence to be so cavalier. I could be less reverential to the source material. They never said no. They weren’t recoiling, and the fact they were so curious encouraged me to go further. The exciting part for everybody was finding newness and perhaps rediscovering some things they had forgotten about.”

How James were saved by the “playful and curious” Brian Eno

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AMES worked with Brian Eno on five albums, beginning with Laid in 1993 and ending with Pleased To Meet You in 2001. “We’d been trying to workwithBrianfrom the first album,” says Booth. “It was constant. He was massive for us, more mportant than ame. Before Eno, used to shoulder a lot of the burden of production. I’m n ignorant nonmusician, but I know what I like and I push eople. Musicians on’t like being told y singers what to o and I took on that urden. It isolated me from the band ometimes. Then Brian walked in and took hat off me. I knew the apt i fth hi ob co on ow am s ju mo nt Hisbrainissoplay curious. A problem problem, it’s an adv It’s infectious. He’s a virus! He stops you getting egotistical about protecting “He stops your parts; you you getting just become egotistical”: Eno in 1992 curious.”

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TIMMOSENFELDER/GETTYIMAGES;LUCIANOVITI/GETTYIMAGES

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OR some groups, having their singer sequestered with a producer 5,000 miles away, shaping their jams into songs, would be a nightmare. “It went very smoothly, but it could have been an absolute disaster,” agrees Glennie. “Tim, bless him, was doing his best to represent us collectively. He knows what we’re trying to do and he tried to be as inclusive as possible, but it was difficult. Because of the logistics and the time difference, there was only a small window where you could sensibly communicate. We contributed as best we could, made suggestions and helped out in whatever way we were needed. Thankfully we’ve ended up somehow with something we’re really proud of.” Booth is still the only member of James physically to have met Lee. “I actually don’t feel like we’ve made a record, in a way,” admits Saul Davies. “That doesn’t mean that I’m not attached to it, or that I don’t think it’s a fabulous addition to our work, but I think the remoteness of it has made me feel… remote, frankly. I see it like this: we generated all the pieces of the jigsaw, and they put the jigsaw together. And it’s great! I’m very much in favour of people coming along and getting our jams and raw files and saying, ‘Here’s my take on what you guys are.’ It’s not remixing, it’s reimagining. I would make some bold claims for this record. It’s a really artistically credible record because of that process.” Booth agrees: “The whole album has been a joy to make. Jacknife takes such different angles to us than anyone else would. The songs are big and accessible and yet still James.” Lyrically, the tracks confront the present head on. In 2018, when James called their last album Living In Extraordinary Times, nobody realised how much stranger the world would subsequently become. On All The Colours Of You, Trump, BLM, the environment and Covid dovetail with more intimate concerns. “Tim is a great writer with a wide reach,” says Youth, who co-produced their 1992 album, Seven. “It means James can go from the deeply personal to the global political.” The title track is a perfect example, “a Polaroid of lockdown in America” that captures both the big picture and the peculiar difficulties and rewards of compressed living during quarantine. “Both my sons moved into our house,” says Booth. “We had to work out our relationship, go deeper into that.” “Beautiful Beaches” – “burning down the houses,we’resurrounded” – recounts that flight from environmental catastrophe, n epically existential opener and k. “I’m so happy that we start ine, ‘We’re all going to die,’” he l song about death. Very James!” gular take on mortality. He n acute liver disease that was diagnosed. It led him to explore ghtenment through movement, lternative medicine. “A lot of my en trying to work out what the hink happens at either end of two bookends of living and g,” he says. “I don’t think I’d be ve today if I hadn’t gone down at path. I was so sick for so long, ndiced the whole time. I was ally fed up with life and quite


James in the US, August 1994: (l–r) Tim Booth, Jim Glennie, Mark Hunter, David Baynton-Power, Saul Davies and Larry Gott

willing to go. I stopped breathing in hospital when I was 21 and it was beautiful. I didn’t want to be revived. I was a bit resentful when I was! So I have quite a positive outlook on death. Of course I grieve for people who have gone, and an untimely death is something else, but our songs about death are uplifting.” “Recover” was written following the death from Covid last May of Booth’s father-in-law, Saville, who was in Watford General Hospital while Booth and his family were stuck in California. “The disconnect of your last words being on FaceTime and the funeral on Zoom… It’s a pretty devastating farewell, in some respects, and also a massive blessing. Our last call to him on FaceTime, an hour and a half before he died, was incredible. He told us he wasn’t afraid and he got me to sing him ‘Sit Down’.” Booth pauses, somewhere between laughter and tears. “The fucker!” For weeks afterwards, he and Kate would illicitly sneak into Topanga State Park late at night. “We would just sit in waterfalls under the moon with the frogs and sing and grieve.”

MICKJUTSON/REDFERNS;MARTYN GOODACRE/GETTYIMAGES

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AMES have always occupied an uncertain position in the landscape. “For a band of their stature they’re perhaps under-represented in the cultural conversation,” says Youth. “They’ve never been hip.” Despite hit singles and albums and arena tours, they still self-define as outsiders. “We’ve never really been cool,” says Davies. “It’s great, it means we can just get on and be creative, but the slight downside is that we’ve never really had a moment where we shone brilliantly. We’ve always been an easy target, but we represent a desire in quite a large number of people to be heartfelt, to voice truisms about inclusion and celebration.” Formed in Manchester in 1982 by Glennie and guitarist Paul Gilbertson, James first recruited Booth as a dancer. Movement remains an essential part of his methodology. “I teach workshops, taking people into altered states through dancing,” he says. “It’s such a universal part of music, and an extra dimension.” Projecting an aura that’s part charismatic humanities lecturer, part shaman, part hippie cult leader, the singer is no stranger to ridicule. Early on, his ecstatic trances, open-hearted search for connection and espousal of alternative paths were viewed with deep suspicion. “Because there was no cure for my liver 58 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

isease in western medicine, I was forced to go looking for stuff hat was considered cranky. In Manchester in the 1980s and in he post-punk press, they would shoot all that stuff down. They abelled us Buddhists, because hey knew we were up to something but they didn’t know what it was. I was working with shamans, using plant medicines, whatever I could find to heal me.” He points out with leasure that the world has ince “shifted big time” egarding such matters. James started as a fouriece, their spidery, ropulsive folk-rock falling omewhere between The o-Betweens and The Blue Aeroplanes. They made an EP for Factory and toured with The iths, who covered their song “What’s The World”. “People abelled us with The Smiths when we started,” says Glennie. “We ere like, ‘We started before The Smiths, we can’t be copying them!’ We were always scared to death that we’d get dragged into scenes. We tried not to jump on bandwagons or be swept along by that.” Their first two albums, Stutter and Strip-mine, were modest indie hits, but it wasn’t until James expanded to a sevenpiece in 1989 with the addition of Davies, Hunter and rumpeter Andy Diagram that something clicked. When chart success arrived with “Sit Down”, “Come ome” and third album Gold Mother, the band egarded it with distrust. “The initial wave was weird,” says Glennie. “Because it had taken so long nd there were so many setbacks, it was like, ‘What do we do now?’ It was a strange sensation. It was almost oo important for us to enjoy.” “I remember when we were making Seven, on the ack of ‘Sit Down’, they were really concerned about eping their indie credibility,” says Youth. “I could nderstand that, but I thought, you’re an arena band nd you don’t want to be apologising for that. You want to make records that really facilitate that.” “We were so idiosyncratic, bloody-minded and independent, often to our detriment,” says Booth. “We had such an ambivalent relationship with success. We wanted it on our terms. We railed at any idea that we were part of the Manchester scene or Britpop, both of which tried to bring us into them. We weren’t very friendly sometimes, but it was a conscious decision, because we felt movements in music lasted only a few years, and after that it’s very hard for bands to have their own identity. That we didn’t want to get pulled into that has benefitted us long-term.” Playing live has always been the ultimate litmus test. Baggyism: Booth in 1990 “You get what we’re doing much more easily live, because of the visual component as well as the musical one,” says Booth. “I think we’re a fucking great live band. If you put [people] who think they hate James in front of us, I reckon we might convert a large percentage of that crowd.” “There’s a euphoria we can create that’s relatively unusual, and it’s because of the way we approach it, looking for connections,” says Davies. James are one of the few arena-sized bands who radically change their set each night and are willing to wing it. It keeps things interesting. They only work with lighting and sound engineers who can adapt from show to show. “Sometimes I’ve gone on with a setlist, looked at it on

“WE MAKE MISTAKES, BUT THAT MAKES US REAL” JIM GLENNIE


JAMES

stage and thought, nope, it’s all wrong,” says Booth. “I’ll turn to everyone and say, ‘Sorry, we’ve got to change this.’ We like the terror of improvisation.” “If we’d been out there banging through a James Best Of every Christmas on an arena tour we’d have committed suicide by now,” says Glennie. “It would have destroyed us. We like the fear, the excitement. We’ve had some cataclysmic moments on stage, we make mistakes, but we don’t mind. It makes it real, and it means great spontaneous moments can happen, too. It’s not always been the easiest ride for people to follow us, but so be it.”

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N the States, James are best known for “Laid”, the punchy, provocative title track of their fifth album, produced by Brian Eno. When the single gave them a sizeable US alternative hit in 1993, the band’s focus diverted towards America. This second wave of fame was more raucous. “We were in the States for four years,” says Glennie. “That was our party period. We were more relaxed and we enjoyed the experience a lot more. When we came back to the UK the band was fairly dysfunctional and it went downhill from there. It became quite destructive.” “People think of James as these fluffy intellectual student types,” says Youth. “But apart from Tim they were all like football hooligans! The dynamic within the room could be heavy. Tim was bouncy, but also very introverted and moody sometimes. They weren’t always very good at expressing how they felt.” “We all got lost in the ’90s, in different ways,” says Booth. “I got derailed a bit. I got very defensive and protective, a bit brittle and arrogant.” By the time the singer finally left James in 2001, “probably 90 per cent of us were in addiction. We were still making great music together, but it was unpredictable, dysfunctional and potentially violent. That’s why I left.” Since their reformation in 2007, the dynamic has stabilised and their productivity rocketed: All The Colours Of You is their seventh studio album in thirteen years. “When we came back everyone had cleaned up enough for us to function and

James’s ambivalent relationship with their biggest hit

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OUCHING on fragile mental health and the need for compassion, communication and communion, “Sit Down” was a No 2 hit in 1991 and yet seems custom-built for current times. Coldplay performed it after the 2017 Manchester Arena bombing and it has even been adopted by Liverpool fans as an anthem for Mo Salah. Yet James treat the song sparingly, wary of cheapening it or letting it define them. “‘Sit Down’ is the biggest hit in Britain, but it isn’t worldwide,” says Booth. “We play it when we can play it with passion, because for us the whole gig is more important than one song. Having said that, I know it has been a really important song for people in lockdown. It comforts people, so I could see us entering a period coming out of lockdown where we’ll want that sense of unity and connection.”

ommunicate much better,” says Booth. “We could ppreciate what we missed. We thought, ‘This is eally precious, let’s fight hard to keep it. We have omething magic when we create together.’” Glennie agrees. “We’d grown up a bit. We valued he band more, and each other. You’re allowed to e childish in a band, even at the grand old age of 7. You can be a knob-end if you so desire, but you’ll mess things up for yourself. Most of us have learned at. We have our moments, of course, but things e easier. We have a different appreciation of it ow.” “They’ve worked out that they’re better gether than separate,” says Jacknife Lee. “No egos nonsense. They’re not precious or protective of their stations, they’re freer than that.” Though only Booth and Glennie remain from the original lineup, the band’s formative spirit is still alive. Recently, a friend sent Glennie James’s first John Peel session, from October 1983. “It was like a time machine,” he laughs. “Just bonkers. There was a whole bunch of different people in the band, but there’s something about the way James started up, the ethics and principles we brought to the way we played, which we still maintain. I like that. We’ve always been about improvising, about playing live, about not trying to sound like anybody else and playing a broad spectrum of music. Nothing can’t be considered. No-one ever says, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ We had that ethos back then and I can still hear that on this album.” Does the shaven-headed, extravagantly moustachioed singer enjoying the Costa Rican rays also recognise himself in the music he made all those years ago? “Yes!” says Booth. “I play those records once every 15 years, or when I’m trying to learn a song, and I totally hear us. And I still hear myself in some of those lyrics.” He smiles. “Still yearning for answers.” All The Colours Of You is released by Virgin Music Label & Artists Services on June 4. The band tour the UK with Happy Mondays in November/ December 2021 and headline Neighbourhood Weekender on September 4 JUNE 2021 • UNCUT •59

SHIRLAINEFORREST/WIREIMAGE

Surf’s up: Tim Booth at Manchester Arena, May 13, 2016


“He was never in one place too long, always moving on”: Dylan in Los Angeles, December 16, 1965 60 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021


HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BOB

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TURN TO PAGE 74 FOR A TRACK-BY-TRACK GUIDE TO UNCUT ’S

DYLAN REVISITED

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Dylan at the Singers Club Christmas party, The King & Queen pub, London, on his first visit to Britain, December 22, 1962

THE

A

1960S

“NEAT” but “funny looking” new face arrives in New York City; Buddy Holly, the Delmonico Hotel and a typewriter all figure highly, as does a roadside epiphany in an open-topped car

BRIAN SHUEL/REDFERNS; VICKY SHARP; GETTY IMAGES

PEGGY SEEGER: Bob was

always around whenever Ewan [MacColl] and I played in Minneapolis, where he was a student at the university. He’d ask us for our autographs. He was always very neat and carried a little briefcase. Two years later, when we went back to Minneapolis, the organiser said, “Remember that little fella who was always attached to you? You know that’s Bob Dylan, right?” You’d be astounded at how far away from the pop scene Ewan and I were, so when Robert Zimmerman became Bob Dylan it didn’t mean anything to us. Not long after, he came to the UK and performed at the Singers Club 62 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

[December 1962]. But nobody could hear him because we didn’t have microphones and his voice wasn’t loud enough. Some peple have since said that he was given the cold shoulder, but I don’t think that’s true. It was just that at that time we were singing pretty much folk songs or highly political songs in our club. Bob Dylan’s songs fell halfway in between. It was a new kind of song.

RAMBLIN’ JACK ELLIOTT:

In late 1961, I took a bus out to New Jersey to visit Woody Guthrie in hospital. This kid was there, quite an engaging guy – kinda pudgy and funny-looking, but nice. He told me he had all my recordings. It was Bob. Back in New York City, he’d ask me all about Woody, who I’d known since 1951. I was some years older than Bob and got him into the musicians’ union. At his first paid performance at Gerde’s Folk City, they put up a cardboard sign written in ballpoint pen: “Appearing tonight: Son of Jack Elliott”. So there was some sort of parental relationship going on there, you might say. I used

to play harmonica with my guitar, just like Woody did. Bob did the same thing. People used to poke me and say, “He’s imitating you, Jack.” I couldn’t see the resemblance myself, but I suppose his playing was reminiscent of my crazy, whoopedup, distorted blues-style harp.

CAROLYN HESTER:

I was playing at Gerde’s Folk City in Greenwich Village one night in 1961 and introduced “Lonesome Tears” by saying, “This one’s by Buddy Holly, who taught it to me.” Before you know it, somebody in this little hat pulled his chair up to almost beside me. He said, “Is that true about Buddy Holly? I just think the world of him. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Bob Dylan.” Six months later, Bob hitchhiked to a club in Boston where I was playing and talked the manager into letting him open for me. He said afterwards, “I’ve been living with Dave Van Ronk and he’s been helping me get gigs, but they’re so few and far between. I can play guitar and harmonica. Where are you going to be next?” I said that I was about to make an album for

John Hammond. I already had a guitar player, Bruce Langhorne, so I asked Bob, “Would you mind playing harmonica?” He said: “I’m there!” Back in New York, in September, John gathered the band in a borrowed apartment in the Village. We sat at a picnic table in the dining area – Dylan’s across from me, Bruce is next to me, across from John Hammond, Bill Lee is standing with his double bass. John was absolutely fascinated by Bob, who ended up playing on three songs on the album [1961’s Carolyn Hester]. I’m so proud when I think that’s where Bob started.

WAVY GRAVY:

Bob and I connected in Greenwich Village in the early ’60s where I was a poet and activist. He was a delightful person with a great sense of humour, just fun to hang out with. He was so paranoid, it was funny. We’d be walking along and he’d suddenly pull me into a doorway and say, “Hey, see that guy over there? Let’s wait until he leaves.” I’d say, “Do you know who he is?” He’d go, “No, but he makes me nervous!” Bob wrote “A Hard


Sir Douglas to you: with Doug Sahm in 1966

ragamuffin character. Then all of a sudden here he was with the strength of a Greek play every time he opened his mouth.

JOHN SEBASTIAN: I

spent most of my time with Bob in the basement of Gerde’s Folk City. We ended up playing harmonica together down there. We used to entertain ourselves by trying to outdo each other with dumb songs we knew – really stupid, ’50s rock’n’roll stuff. He loved it. Bob was a real hotbed of songs, very charismatic. He was never in one place too long, always moving on. Then when he started gaining fame at a much higher rate than me, our criss-crossing became less frequent. One night at the Gaslight, he uncorked “Chimes Of Freedom” for the first time. I stood at the back thinking, ‘What the hell happened to this guy since I last looked? Who gave him the Ten Commandments?’ It was borderline comical, because he’d always had this real kinda scufflin’ aspect to him, a real

I’m not sure whether he’s very keen on me telling this, but here we go. It was at the Delmonico Hotel on Park Avenue and 59th in New York City in August, 1964. We were in a hotel room, all being good old lads having our Scotch and Coke – it was an afterparty, I think. Dylan arrived and he went into the bedroom with his roadie. Ringo went along to see what was up. So he finds Dylan, rolling up, and he has a toke. He came back in and we said, “What was it like?” So Ringo says, “The ceiling is kind of moving down…” We all ran into the backroom going, “Give us a bit, give us a bit!” So that was the very first evening we ever got stoned!

JOHN STEEL:

When The Animals played our first dates in New York in October ’64, we managed to get a meeting at Al Grossman’s apartment – the one on the Bringing It All Back Home cover. Bob wasn’t really what we expected. He was always folkylooking on his album covers, then all of a sudden this very smartly turned-out guy walked in, wearing a mohair jacket and a shirt with cufflinks. He had very fine skin, almost translucent. He was very chatty and served us a big tossed salad with shrimps and some chilled white wine. It was all very Dylan visits The Beatles at the Delmonico Hotel, NYC, August 1964 – Neil Aspinall (front) and Al Aronowitz pictured

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APPEARANCES ON OTHER ARTISTS’ ALBUMS HARRY BELAFONTE

THE MIDNIGHT SPECIAL, 1962

One of Dylan’s first appearances on record, playing harmonica on the title track. In his memoir, Chronicles, Dylan writes stirringly about the actor, singer and activist; in his book My Song, Belafontemeanwhilerecallsthe “skinny,scraggly-hairedkid”.

BIG JOE WILLIAMS, ROOSEVELT SYKES, LONNIE JOHNSON & VICTORIA SPIVEY THREE KINGS AND THE QUEEN, 1964

Dylan contributed harmonica and vocals to veteran blues singer Spivey’s album; a photograph of the pair from the sessions becamethebackcoverto Dylan’sNewMorning.

DOUG SAHM

DOUG SAHM AND BAND, 1973

A fan of Sahm’s Sir Douglas Quintet in the 1960s, Dylan contributed backing vocals, guitar, harmonica, organ andanoriginalsong–“Wallflower” –toSahm’sexcellent1973album.

BETTE MIDLER

SONGS FOR THE NEW DEPRESSION, 1976

The Divine Miss M persuaded Dylan to duet on a sly, sauced-up,piano-ledversionofhis “BucketsOfRain”.

LEONARD COHEN

DEATH OF A LADIES’ MAN, 1977

Dylan is among the riotous chorus (also featuring Allen Ginsberg) on the great “Don’t Go Home With Your Hard-On”.

KEITH GREEN

SO YOUWANNA GO BACKTO EGYPT, 1980

Dylan metGreen – a former child star turned Christian singer – throughhisown religious studies, and contributed unmistakableharmonicato “PledgeMyHeadToHeaven”.

WARREN ZEVON

SENTIMENTAL HYGIENE, 1987

Dylan blew harmonica here on “TheFactory”; when Zevon announcedhis terminal cancer in 2002,Dylan beganregularlycoveringhis songslive.

BRIAN WILSON SWEETINSANITY, 1990

Dylan joinedthe Beach Boyin1990 for Wilson’s planned second solo album, Sweet Insanity.It was never released, buttheir curiously Meatloafianduet “SpiritOfRock’n’Roll”was instantlybootlegged.

WILLIE NELSON

ACROSSTHE BORDERLINE, 1993

The pairhaveplayed together often, but thisco-write from Nelson’s duets album remainstheironlystudio collaborationtodate.

RALPH STANLEY

CLINCH MOUNTAIN COUNTRY, 1998

Dylan’s high, forlorn dueton “Lonesome River” withthe banjo-plucking bluegrasslegend is one of his most beguiling performances of the 1990s. DAMIEN LOVE

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MICHAEL OCHS ARCHIVES/GETTY IMAGES; MIRRORPIX VIA GETTY IMAGES; MARY McCARTNEY; GETTY IMAGES

Rain’s A-Gonna Fall” on my typewriter, in the tiny little room I had above the Gaslight [Café]. I helped a bit with the idea. I used to talk to Bob about using fresh imagery. I had a line that went something like, “Little sister’s legs alive with ponies”. I was trying to say things differently, rather than just “moon, June, spoon”. I remember Bob singing “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall”, with Hamilton Camp on the choruses, up there in that room. That was the first time anybody ever heard it.

PAUL McCARTNEY:


AKA Elston Gunnn,1959

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DYLAN ALIASES

ELSTON GUNNN

T

EENAGE piano pounder Robert Zimmerman gave this as his name to Bobby Vee when he joined the pop star’s live band in 1959.

BLIND BOY GRUNT

Contributed several tracks to Broadside Ballads, a 1963 album celebrating Broadside magazine, the folk-scene Bible.

TED HAM PORTERHOUSE

A mysterious figure playing harp on Ramblin’ Jack Elliott’s 1964 LP, Jack Elliott.

BOB LANDY

ALAMYSTOCKPHOTO;GETTYIMAGES;SANTED’ORAZIO;AMYGRANTHAM

This unbreakable anagram hid the identity of a piano player on 1964’s The Blues Project album.

WILLIAM W KASONAVARICH

Dylan’s answer to a journalist who asked why he changed his name. “Wouldn’t you if you had a name like William W Kasonavarich?”

sophisticated. He was in the studio working on what became Bringing It All Back Home. He played us a rough cut of “Subterranean Homesick Blues”. We all went, “What! It’s electric?” Everything he’d done until then had been acoustic. Then he told us how he’d been driving along in his open-topped car, listening to the radio, when he heard our version of “The House Of The Rising Sun”. He said, “I had to pull over to listen to it. It was like a light-bulb moment!” He decided that the next thing he was going to do was electric.

DANIEL KRAMER: Bob

asked me to shoot the album cover for Bringing It All Back Home, but Columbia’s art director told me I wasn’t doing it. He wanted a superstar photographer. I went downstairs to meet Bob and Albert [Grossman] for lunch in the commissary and explained what had happened. Without saying a word, Albert put his hand around my wrist and pulled me to my feet, then did the same to Bob and he dragged us to the elevator. I’ll spare the details of what Albert said to the art director, but when we left I was doing the album cover. For the shoot at Albert’s house I

EGG O’SCHMILLSON

Co-conspirator on a planned 1971 LP with Allen Ginsberg for Apple. It was never released, but tapes appeared on 1994’s Ginsberg comp Holy Soul Jelly Roll.

In a thinly veiled nod to the Welsh poet, he supplied piano and backing vocals on Steve Goodman’s Somebody Else’s Troubles in 1972.

One of 1988’s blessed Traveling Wilburys posse. On their second LP in 1990, he was replaced by Boo Wilbury.

JACK FROST

First appeared as co-producer on 1990’s Under The Red Sky; he’s been Bob’s go-to producer since 2001’s “Love And Theft”.

SERGEI PETROV

Co-writer of 2003 movie Masked & Anonymous. DAMIEN LOVE 64•UNCUT•JUNE2021

GRAHAM NASH: In June

KRIS KRISTOFFERSON:

As a janitor at Columbia in Nashville, I got to see the Blonde On Blonde sessions close up in February 1966. It was my first week at work and it was just incredible. The norm was to crank out three songs in three hours, but Bob showed up without any songs written. He’d be sitting at the piano in the centre of Studio A, with his dark glasses on, and he’d be writing while the band was off playing cards or ping-pong. About five in the morning he’d gather them together and they’d cut something fantastic. I’d never seen anything like it; I was sure he was going to blow it. I got to know Bob later on, when he came back out to Nashville to do The Johnny Cash Show. We still sort of keep in touch. Every now and then I’ll get a call, but by the time I call back he can’t remember what he was calling about, or he claims he never called me in the first place!

ROBBIE ROBERTSON:

ROBERT MILKWOOD THOMAS

LUCKY WILBURY

elaxed. It was just fun. The Hawks ecame The Band and we made our irst record. I distinctly remember he look on Bob’s face when he heard Music From Big Pink. You ould see the pride in his eyes.

wanted a different Bob. I wanted the prince of music, not the vagabond troubadour. He had these cufflinks that Joan Baez had given him, so he got all gussied up. Then he went into the basement and found that yellow air-raid sign and brought all this junk up. Sally [Grossman] was in that bright red outfit, which I don’t think she ever wore again. Bob was very smart. I loved working with him because he was always willing to give. It wasn’t just me – it was Bob arranging those shots.

The Band came from a completely different side of the tracks. With The Hawks we played ough-ass bars, not coffee houses. We didn’t know folk music. Then his guy comes along, the king of he folk singers, with this audacious idea for an experiment… I became friends with Bob very early on. I started to really understand the magic of his talent. But every night we played [on the ’66 tour], people booed us and threw stuff at us. It was an amazing, crazy experience. We knew we were getting better all the time. We just had to play to each other. Bob didn’t budge. The world was wrong and we were right. After that, in early ’67, with all of us moving up to Woodstock, we had the opportunity to invent some new music. At Big Pink, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Bob Dylan more

1969, Joni [Mitchell] and I went to Nashville, where she was due to play on The Johnny Cash Show. Dylan was one of the artists appearing too. Afterwards, John invited us all to dinner at his house. He stood up after we’d eaten, tapped a glass with a gold knife and said, “We have a thing here at the Cash house where people sing for their supper. So who’s going to be first?” No-one moved, so I got up and did “Marrakesh Express”. As soon as I’d finished, I stood up and walked straight into a standing lamp, which crashed to the ground. That broke the ice. Then Bob got up and did something from Blonde On Blonde, then “Don’t Think Twice” and, I think, “Lay Lady Lay”. His performance that night was incredible. I remember everyone was in tears afterwards.

ELLIOTT LANDY: Bob and I

got to know each other when we were both living in Woodstock. He came over to my house one day and I showed him some very arty-looking nudes that I’d taken, in the style of the Impressionist painters. We went through them all and he was laughing. At the end he said, “Did you see the story there?” I said, “What story?” He suggested we go through them again, which we did. And as the pictures played, he was writing down what he thought each girl would be saying, making up things. It was hysterically funny. He said that we should publish them at some point. I followed up over the years, asking if he was ready to publish, but it never happened. The thing is, after we finished the session he left the house, then maybe five minutes later knocked on the door. Then he went through my trash bin and retrieved the notes that he’d thrown away. It wasn’t like they were at all valuable to me, but Bob did it in a very friendly way.


DYLAN AT 80

“EVERY NIGHT, PEOPLE BOOED, THREW STUFF”

Beats meet: (l–r) Robbie Robertson, Michael McClure, Bob Dylan, Allen Ginsberg, San Francisco, 1965

ROBBIE ROBERTSON

At the Ryman Auditorium, Nashville, filming the very first Johnny Cash Show, May 1, 1969

ALICE OCHS/MICHAEL OCHS ARCHIVES/GETTY IMAGES; DALE SMITH/ALAMY STOCK PHOTO; ABC PHOTO ARCHIVES/GETTY IMAGES

“Bob didn’t budge”: going electric at the Westchester County Center, White Plains, New York, Feb 5, 1966


DYLAN AT 80

THE

T

1970S

HERE is “crazy-ass small talk” and an old woodpanel station wagon heads to Muscle Shoals; brandies at the Bitter End, red wine in Laurel Canyon and an unexpected hook-up with Muddy Waters…

JIM KELTNER: I got a call from Leon Russell in March 1971 to come to New York, to play drums with Bob. We ended up cutting “Watching The River Flow”. It was a very natural recording, with everybody in the room grooving along. Bob stood facing against the wall. I could see his mouth and lips moving – he was writing a song as we went! Leon led the show as a pianist-producer, but Bob was in charge – but he didn’t say a word that whole day. I asked him a little simple question, like, “How many kids do you have?” He didn’t answer. It wasn’t that he was dissing me. He can be very talkative – we had some crazy-ass small talk later, in the Traveling Wilburys – but the thing with Bob is, he’s not, one to one, gregarious. He’s never been to

my house in 50 years, where George [Harrison], say, came all the time. That’s not Bob’s personality. But he does know instinctively when he needs to talk and when he doesn’t. That’s a good thing to know, if you’re playing with him.

PATTERSON HOOD: Dylan

made Slow Train Coming and Saved in Muscle Shoals, though I didn’t meet him then. He had been to town about five or six years earlier to play on a Donnie Fritts record that he’s not even credited on. He drove from Malibu in an old wood-panel station wagon with Sara and the family. I was about six or seven, maybe a year or two older than Jesse Dylan, so they arranged a playdate. I met Dylan when we went to pick Jesse up. I knew who he was, to the extent that a little kid can know who he is, but it was right around the time “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” was a hit, so I knew he was the guy who sang that song. It was crazy when he came to Muscle Shoals, ’cause word had somehow got out that he was there. It’s the only time anyone ever actually broke into the studio – one of my dad’s partners found somebody hiding in the closet

“WE THINK HE GOT IN VIA AN UPSTAIRS WINDOW” PATTERSON HOOD

of his office. They have no idea how he got in, the place was like a fortress. They think he scaled the sidewall and got in through an upstairs window and then down somehow so he was in the closet.

MARIA MULDAUR:

I knew Bob from back in Greenwich Village. To my surprise he occasionally showed up after I’d moved to LA. While I was making my first solo record, I played an acoustic gig at the Ash Grove with Daniel Friedberg and David Nichtern, who wrote “Midnight At The Oasis”. All of a sudden I see Bob, Roger McGuinn and Spanky from Spanky And Our Gang. They listened to the set and then we hung out. Bob’s friend, Louie Kemp, was there too; they were driving a real fancy, totally tricked-out Maserati. We drove to my little bungalow in Laurel Canyon,

drank red wine and listened to music. That’s what we’d do back then. If someone had a new album, we’d all go over to someone’s house and very proactively listen to it, like we were watching a movie. It wasn’t background party music. Then the guitars would come out, so we’d sit around and play tunes for each other. I remember asking Bob to sing “Corinna, Corinna”, because I love the way he does that. His phrasing was flawless, so expressive.

GLENN BERGER: I was

assistant engineer for all the Blood On The Tracks recording sessions. First night, Eric Weissberg brought in his Deliverance band, who were absolutely psyched to play on a Dylan record. But Dylan was quite odd. We’d been told nobody was to talk to him, he didn’t interact with anybody. He started running down a tune, which usually takes a couple of hours. Dylan just runs it down once or twice and if somebody hits a wrong note, Dylan tells them to stop. Then he starts playing a different song without telling anybody, so the guys screw up, and he waves them to drop out too. He essentially fired the band, until finally just the bass player, Tony Brown, remains, JUNE 2021 • UNCUT • 67

KEITH BEATY/TORONTO STAR VIA GETTY IMAGES; GETTY IMAGES

It ain’t me: Dylan fails to go unrecognised at the Mariposa Folk Festival on the Toronto Islands, July 16, 1972


Arriving at the Winterland Ballroom, SF, forThe Last Waltz, November 25, 1976

With Joan Baez for Night Of The Hurricane, a benefit for boxer Rubin Carter, MSG, Dec 8, 1975

LARRYHULST/MICHAELOCHSARCHIVES/GETTYIMAGES;JEFFHOCHBERG/GETTY IMAGES;RICHARD McCAFFREY/MICHAELOCHSARCHIVES/GETTYIMAGES;GETTYIMAGES

With Roger McGuinn at the Fox Warfield Theatre, SF, Nov 1979

sitting inches away from Dylan desperately staring at his hands, trying to figure out the next chord. Dylan’s own performances were electric, his intensity was mindboggling. Maybe a savant would be the right word, so focused was he in his performance. He didn’t know who was in the room with him. He was in his own universe.

ROGER McGUINN: In the

early ’70s, I lived in Malibu. Bob came over from time to time to shoot pool and watch movies. We played a little basketball one day – he was quite good; I wasn’t – when he casually mentioned, “I want to do something different, something like a circus.” Then he slam-dunked the basketball into the hoop. A few months later I was in New York when Larry Sloman told me that Bob was over at The 68•UNCUT•JUNE2021

Bitter End. I found Bob and Jacques Levy sitting at a small table in the back room, drinking brandy. Bob yelled, “McGuinn, we were just alking about you!” He told us about a tour he and Jacques were putting together, then invited me to join the group. I had my own concerts booked within the same timeframe, so I turned down he invitation. Larry called next morning: “Dylan invited you on tour last night and you turned him down? That’s not a great idea!” With a slightly groggy head, I called my agent and told him to postpone my concert dates. Dylan’s idea of the “circus” that he’d mentioned during our basketball game months earlier in Malibu became the Rolling Thunder Revue.

SCARLET RIVERA: I hung

out with Bob through the whole first day we met in Greenwich Village, right up until dawn. He was testing me for the Rolling Thunder Revue. He’d already given me songs to play with no chart and no key, then that night he said, “I’ve gotta go see a friend of mine play. Do you wanna come along?” It wasn’t until we pulled up outside The Bottom Line and saw Muddy Waters’ name on

the marquee that I realised hat he meant. Bob joined Muddy on stage for a song, then said, “Now I want to bring up my violinist.” So I scrambled up. The other guys all take a solo, then Muddy Waters nods at me, “Your turn!” I had to improvise a 16-bar solo. One by one they all started to smile. That was part two of the test. I guess I passed, because I ended up on Desire and the Rolling Thunder Revue. My musical relationship with Bob was just intuitive. Many people are intimidated when they work with him, but emotionally I was kind of like him. I was very remote, kind of a lone wolf. Incidentally, that story about him getting the idea for face make-up after I’d taken him to see Kiss is not true. I absolutely would not have dreamed of bringing Bob Dylan to a Kiss concert!

RONEE BLAKLEY:

I first met Bob at The Other End in Greenwich Village in October 1975, when we were introduced by Bobby Neuwirth after David Blue’s show. I got up on stage and started playing four-handed piano with Bob and singing along. At the mic, Bob invited me to join his tour, but I told him I couldn’t

because I was eaded out the next morning for Muscle Shoals to prepare for my own tour. Bobby Neuwirth screamed, “Nobody says no to Bob Dylan!” The party kept going at the Gramercy Park Hotel. Bob tried to convince again, but I needed to catch the flight from JFK. As I left, he held the elevator door open and said, “You should have caught me in my prime” [a line from an alternate version of “A Simple Twist Of Fate”]. I said, “I think I have.” When I arrived at Muscle Shoals, my band told me to go tour with Dylan – so I reached Bob at his hotel. He told me to get back on a plane. A car picked me up at JFK that night. I was taken straight to Columbia Studios. When I walked through the door, Bob had this big smile, handed me the lyrics to “Hurricane”. It was probably close to midnight and I still hadn’t slept, but we just picked up and started recording. Bob and I were on one mic together, almost mouth to mouth, singing together live.


DYLAN AT 80 THE

A

1980S

N acoustic version of a Madonna hit, a Great Dane named Snoopy, and a Mediterranean sojourn to the Hill Of The Muses SLY DUNBAR:

TARANTULA 1971

Dylan’s first book lay unpublished for a few years – but was written during the enormous outpouring that produced his 1965-66 albums. A speeding, absurdist antinovel of prose-poems and cut-up-consciousness, it similarly blends the blues with the Beats.

GREGG SUTTON: The

first day I showed up to play bass for the 1984 European tour, Bob and I were dressed exactly the same: motorcycle boots, black jeans, white T-shirt and grey jacket. We stared each other up and down like it was a Marx Brothers movie. But we connected. We traded jackets, stuff like that. His eldest son, Jesse, travelled with us and once in a while there’d be one of these “Oh Dad!” moments. I found them really funny, because it really humanised the guy. He’d say or do something that Jesse would just get embarrassed about. We were in Stockholm, it was big

“HE WAS A JOKER. HE LIKED TO FUCK WITH ME, Y’KNOW” ARTHUR BAKER

Beyond the fringe: Dylan in London, August 17, 1986

news on the front page of every paper and there were fans outside the hotel. Bob couldn’t go out. After a while he got really bored, so he had Gary Shafner [road manager] dress up in his leather jacket and straw hat. He and the others were watching from the 11th-floor balcony as Shafner went downstairs and got torn apart by the mob. Dylan was very amused. Jesse called it the ultimate “Oh Dad!” moment.

ARTHUR BAKER: The most

noticeable thing about Bob in the studio when we did Empire Burlesque was that he had no patience. When we got around to mixing the record, he said: “Blonde On Blonde was a double album and

we mixed it in two days.” I told him that was 8-track and we were now using 48-track, so it was going to take at least six times longer. “Oh OK, yeah, I get it.” One night we were working on a mix, so he went out to the movies. He’d gone to see Mask and was totally blown away by it when he got back. He was like, “I didn’t think Cher had that in her!” Other times I’d be mixing a track and he’d be sitting in the room – I wouldn’t say it was petrifying, but it was unnerving – on a couch in front of the desk. I was mixing something one night and hearing something really weird beneath it. So I turned the volume down quickly and it was Bob singing “Like A Virgin” on acoustic guitar. He was figuring out how to play Madonna. We’d already finished the record and he’d say to me, “I’d like to make a record like Prince or Madonna. Can we do that?” He was a joker. He liked to fuck with me, y’know.

FIVE BOOKS BY DYLAN WRITINGS AND DRAWINGS 1973

Covering his output up to 1971, Dylan’s first lyrics collection also featured liner notes and poems, and line drawings in the style of his first great role model, Woody Guthrie.

CHRONICLES: VOLUME ONE 2004

Supposedly the first of three volumes, Dylan’s spellbinding memoir shuffles three time frames: New York in 1961; the period around 1970’s New Morning; and making 1989’s Oh Mercy. Simultaneously revelatory and elusive, it displays evidence of the same cut-up-and-collage approach of recent albums.

THE NOBEL LECTURE 2017

A pocketsized volume preserving Dylan’s speech on receiving the Nobel Prize In Literature, which stirred controversy when claims emerged that Dylan had cribbed sections from study notes. Track down the excellent recording he made, reciting his speech over glancing jazz piano, like Kerouac’s 1950s readings with Steve Allen.

MONDO SCRIPTO 2018

The catalogue issued to accompany the exhibition of the same title, this fascinating thing resembles a sequel to Writings And Drawings: Dylan handwrites the lyrics to some 61 songs, illustrating each with pencil drawings.

DAMIEN LOVE

JUNE 2021 • UNCUT •69

BRIANRASIC/GETTYIMAGES;GETTYIMAGES

One evening in spring 1983, we were at Compass Point Studio where we got a call from Chris [Blackwell]’s assistant. She said, “Bob Dylan has called. He wants you and Robbie [Shakespeare] to record on his session.” I thought they were kidding, but she said, “It’s no joke. He wants you to fly over to New York.” We got to The Power Station, expecting a tough session [for Infidels], because we thought he might be difficult. But he came in, just put the harmonica round his neck and started working on a song. It was the coolest thing, so easygoing. We started working the groove. Bob would change words on the fly. I remember us running down “Jokerman” without realising it was being recorded. Then at the end Bob said, “That’s it!” Simple as that. Most of the other songs were just one takes. To this day, me and Robbie still wonder why he sent for us. I don’t know if it was the Grace Jones stuff he’d heard, but he probably wanted to present something different. He obviously remembered us and had kept listening, because years later he called us and said, “You guys have just won a Grammy!” [for 1997’s Friends]. That was the first we even knew about it.


DYLAN AT 80

10

DYLAN STORIES

O

N a health kick while filming 1973’s Pat Garrett And Billy The Kid in Mexico, Dylan ruined a scene for Sam Peckinpah by jogging across the background with Harry Dean Stanton.

● In 1974, Peter Grant introduced himself to Bob saying, “I’m Peter Grant, I manage Led Zeppelin.” Dylan replied, “Do I come to you with my problems?” ● In the mid-1980s, a woman in London’s Crouch End answered her doorbell to find Dylan on the step. He asked, “Is Dave in?” Her husband, Dave, a plumber, was out on a job, but she invited Dylan in to wait and he sat drinking tea until Dave arrived home – at which point Dylan realised this wasn’t Eurythmic Dave Stewart’s house. ● In her memoir Wishful Drinking, Carrie Fisher recounts Dylan calling her in the late ’80s: “This cologne company had contacted him to see if he would endorse a cologne called Just Like A Woman. Now Bob didn’t like that name, but he liked the idea of endorsing a cologne. And he wanted to know if I had any good cologne names…” ● In 2004, Dylan pitched the idea of starring in his own TV sitcom to confused executives at HBO. ● In 2008, Dylan surprised a couple in Winnipeg when he turned up at their door asking if he could see inside the house because Neil Young had grown up in it.

AARON RAPOPORT/CORBIS/GETTY IMAGES; KEITH BAUGH/REDFERNS; GETTY IMAGES

● In 2009, walking alone in a street in New Jersey, Dylan was picked up by cops responding to a local homeowner’s call reporting a suspicious-looking character outside. It has been rumoured he was searching for Bruce Springsteen’s old house. ● The same year, in Liverpool, Dylan joined a Beatles tour to visit John Lennon’s childhood home. A National Trust spokesman said, “He could have booked a private tour, but he was happy to go on the bus with everyone else.” ● In Glasgow, in 2011, Dylan purchased a set of bagpipes from the city’s National Piping Centre. Proving he was serious about the instrument, he bought not only Highland Bagpipe Tutor Book One, but also Book Two. ● One night in 2014, driving through LA, Dylan spotted someone dressed as Mr Spock walking along Hollywood Blvd with someone else dressed as boxing promoter Don King. He jumped out of his car to take selfies with them. DAMIEN LOVE 70•UNCUT•JUNE2021

BENMONT TENCH:

The experience of touring with Bob in ’86, alongside the other Heartbreakers, was kind of an interior trip. When Bob played music off the cuff it was often the most direct, from-the-spirit thing there is. At a festival in Australia, Bob walks to the other end of the stage, where Tom [Petty] and Howie [Epstein] were, and starts playing “Desolation Row”. We’d never rehearsed it or discussed it before. It’s one of the great pieces of music of all time, we’re with the man who created it and we’re going to play it spontaneously for an enormous number of people. I knew the song inside out, but to be in that creative moment, with Bob just starting to play it and not even count it off, was really special. Another time in Gothenburg, Sweden, we were just about to go on stage and I asked Bob what slow song he wanted to play in the middle of the set, because we had a few all figured out. He said, “Do you know ‘Tomorrow Is A Long Time’? Let’s do it, just me and you.” When things like that happened, it was genuinely transcendent. Bob would rise to the occasion and just knock you over.

KURTIS BLOW:

“I was recording in Studio B at The Power Station in New York City, in 1986, when Bob walked in. He was recording right next door, in Studio A. “Man, I heard your background singers,” he said. “They sound really good. Could I use them on my record?” I said, “Of course. But you owe me a favour in return.” He gave me his number and said to call him any time. So I phoned and asked him to rap on a song called ‘Street Rock”. He said, “Sure. Come out here and I’ll record it in my studio.” I flew to LA with my road manager, Wayne Valentine, and drove up to Dylan’s house in Malibu. Bob answered the door: “Kurtis Blow, how you doin’? Come in!” Bob had a huge Great Dane named Snoopy, and Wayne was petrified of dogs. Once he stepped into the house, the dog started

“BOB WAS SO GREAT TO BE AROUND, VERY RELAXED” VAN MORRISON

growling at him. Wayne ran across the living room in panic and jumped on the dining table. He was a 300-pound guy and the whole thing crashed to the ground. It was hilarious. Bob was so cool about it: “No problem, I’ll fix it.” He was such a sweet soul. He took the dog into another room, then we followed him into the studio, where he recorded that intro in one take. It really sounded incredible. People have said that Kurtis Blow taught Bob Dylan how to rap, but that’s not true. To me, “Blowin’ In The Wind” is a rap, so he was doing that long before I was. Van Morrison guests at Wembley Stadium, July 7, 1987

On an “interior trip”: Tom Petty with Dylan in Los Angeles, 1986

VAN MORRISON:

I have a really good memory of the time Bob and I were out near the Acropolis in Athens. It was being filmed for Arena [as seen on BBC documentary One Irish Rover: Van Morrison In Performances], in June 1989 and Bob happened to be touring Greece at that time. So it was just a very spontaneous, spur-ofthe-moment thing for us to get together. I’d been telling the filmmakers about having been to Greece before and going to the Hill Of The Muses [Philopappos Hill], so I’d suggested that Bob and I go up and do something. It was all very easy-going. Bob was so great to be around, very relaxed and amenable. He’s always been that way with me. We had a great time playing up there. And let me just say, Happy 80th, Bob!


DYLAN AT 80 to sit next to him and ask questions, but I had Bob carry on miming to the song whilst I filmed through the window. It looks surreal. I’d called my friend Ana María Vélez, a Colombian photographer, to come over, and one shot of him in the café is the cover of World Gone Wrong [1993]. Things started to go a bit out of control as we wandered through the streets, so I suggested to a small crowd to just keep about 10 feet behind and follow Bob as the Pied Piper. Bob kept them amused by juggling while I lay on the ground and asked them to come over a bridge and walk over me as a shot to end the film with. That afternoon I asked director Sophie Muller if she could help edit this footage. Only then did I realise that what we did was possibly a video for “Blood In My Eyes”. Bob and I thought we were just filming stuff and having fun.

THE

“P

1990S

EOPLE come at him from all angles”… Japes with George, a trip to Camden Town and parkinglot assignations

DON WAS: On Under The Red Sky, Bob made a real effort to put everyone at ease in the studio, which is something I’ve always admired about him. He was humble and very funny. There was obviously a deep and long-standing friendship between Bob and George Harrison, and the mood in the studio [Harrison plays on the title track] was quite jocular. Before George had even gotten a sound on his guitar or heard the song, Bob sat down behind the board in the engineer’s seat, hit the record button and said, “Play!” Apparently, it wasn’t the first time Bob had done this to George. The guitar was way out of tune and George didn’t even know what key the song was in. Bob indicated that the solo was perfect and that we were done. George rolled his eyes, turned to me and asked, “What do you think, Don?” I said, “It was really good, but let’s see if you can do an even better one.” “Thank you!” answered George. Bob laughed, rewound the tape and let the engineer have his chair back. George nailed the solo on the next pass.

DAVID LINDLEY: Bob

was a big fan of [Lindley’s band] El Rayo-X and came to see us in New York, at Sounds Of Brazil. So we already knew each other when I was called to play guitar in his band for Under The Red Sky. A lot of people get the impression he has a star complex, but he’s not like that at all. He’s just saving his energy for what he’s doing, because it’s like kung-fu, y’know. People come at him from all angles and he has to deal with them. We’d talk about all sorts of things, mainly music and guitars. Dylan would organise stuff in the studio as we were going along, shuffling verses around a lot and changing words. It was amazing to watch. There was always the freedom to bring your own ideas to the table, and he would be very open to that, but sometimes he’d insist he was right, in a very nice way.

RICHARD THOMPSON:

I was on tour in Europe in 1991 with Bonnie Raitt when I was asked to come and play the Seville Guitar Legends. I did a short set, then Dylan’s manager asked me if I’d play some songs with Bob. I think we did three songs as an acoustic duo and then I was in the house band for “All Along The Watchtower” and stuff. It was a strange meeting because he didn’t seem very forthright. It was all a bit surreal.

I was dog-tired from travelling, forcing myself to pay attention. But it was a great honour to play with Bob. I met him again a few years ago, at the Americanarama Festival, which was like a package tour playing outdoor venues in the summer [of 2013]. Bob was the headliner, Wilco were on it, My Morning Jacket… and we were bottom of the bill, going on at 5.30pm! But I got to say hello to Bob and he was so gracious and lovely. He said Fairport did the best covers of his songs, ever. So that was very nice to hear. On that Americanarama tour he did “1952 Vincent Black Lightning” [from 1991’s Rumor And Sigh]. He didn’t tell me; I just heard it as he did it. I was shocked and stunned. That’s pretty special, to have your song covered by arguably the greatest songwriter of the 20th-slash-21st century.

DAVE STEWART: One

evening in July 1993, I was at home in London and Bob called, saying he wanted to film something the next day. He mentioned Camden Town and the market. So next morning he came round and we listened to “Blood In My Eyes”. We wandered around the Camden streets with Bob in a top hat that I’d rented, black velvet jacket and black leather gloves. I filmed on two 8mm cameras. We improvised everything. At one point so many people wanted to ask Bob questions, I managed to get the owner of a café to allow Bob to sit in the corner. Then one by one I allowed different people

DANIEL LANOIS: We

recorded Time Out Of Mind in 1996, in Miami, at Criteria, a very nice studio with a backdoor to a small parking lot with a fence round it, nothing special. Bob preferred to speak with me there, not in front of this 11-piece orchestra we

had. Bob says his songs can be done in any time signature, in any key with any chord. It’s really about the lyric. So when it came time to record “Standing In The Doorway”, we went out the back and I said, “I always had a love for ‘Sad Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands’. It’s a waltz, really. So why don’t we try this that way, Bob? I have a little electric mandolin theme, which you could respond to with your verses...” He agreed and we went in and did it. That gives you the idea that Bob was a very private man – and that was an extension of privacy for him, to say let’s talk about things as the architects in the parking lot. Then we’ll bring it to the orchestra. JUNE2021•UNCUT•71

PETER LUCKHURST/SHUTTERSTOCK; FLORIA SIGISMONDI

Taking tea (and questions) during a video shoot in Camden with Dave Stewart, July 1993


DYLAN AT 80 THE

2000S

ANDBEYOND “S

WINGING with the moments” on the Never Ending Tour, crafting wrought-iron gates, changing key on a nightly basis and giving soul baring speeches

“HE EVEN TOOK A SHOT AT MERLE HAGGARD” JACKSON BROWNE

LARRY CAMPBELL:

Playing guitar for Bob on the Never Ending Tour was a rollercoaster. He was a regular guy who was fun to hang out with occasionally – with the same issues as everybody else, who loved his family and was trying, like all of us, just to get through the day and make the best of it. I feel privileged to have glimpsed that side of him as well as the more notorious side. For example, one day you’d get the impression that what he wants from you is this particular approach to a song or whatever. So you’d train yourself to take that approach, but then a few days later it’s like, “What are you doing that for?” It would be like he never asked you to do that. So you had to swing with those moments and be quick on your feet. For the years I was with Bob, it was a way of training myself to serve the song.

WILLIAMCLAXTON;RICKGUEST; DANNYCLINCH; GETTYIMAGES

ROGER DALTREY:

In 2003, I was making a History Channel programme on Native Americans. I’d been filming out in Wyoming with a Native American Indian called Bad Hand, dressed in full war armour, with his palomino horse all feathered and painted. When I got back to the hotel that night, it turned out that Bob was playing in Jackson Hole, on the ski slope. So I went along and said hello. Bob said, “Hey, what are you doing here, Roger?” He asked why I was wearing a full cowboy outfit, so I told him what I’d been doing and that I’d come straight off the set. He got really interested in the whole idea of this mythic Native American and suddenly said, “I want to come with you tomorrow!” Of course, he was playing somewhere else the next day, so he couldn’t. But, 72•UNCUT•JUNE2021

“He’s never lost that passion”: presenting Modern Times, his 32nd studio album, in 2006

knowing Bob, that’s what he would’ve preferred to do.

DAVE GROHL:

Around 2008, we opened up on his arena tour. A few shows in, we were at this hockey arena in Canada and a production assistant came up and said, “Hey, Dave. Bob wants to talk to you. We’ll come and get you when he’s ready.” A few minutes later, someone comes in and says, “OK, Bob’s ready.” I started walking down this sterile, concrete hallway and the guy said, “He’s right around that corner.” There he was standing in this tunnel that led out into the arena. All I could see was his silhouette: he had a black, hooded sweatshirt pulled up over his head, a black leather jacket, black jeans and black boots on. He was leaning against the wall with his arms

crossed. I walked up to him and said, “Hey, Bob, how’re you doing?” He’s like, “Hey, man, how’s it going?” We talked for a little bit and he thanked us for being on the tour and then he said, “Man, what’s that song you guys got? ‘The only thing I’ll ever ask of you is promise not to stop when I say when’”? I said, “Oh, that’s ‘Everlong’.” He said, “That’s a great song, man. I should do that song.” I was like, “You know, I think you’ve got enough good songs to hold you over.” Honestly, it was one of the most incredible experiences of my entire life. It was fucking terrifying – but he couldn’t have been nicer.

ELTON JOHN:

T-Bone Burnett, who knows Bob very well, told me about these wrought-iron gates that Bob makes. So I went to visit him with David and

Zachary, my little boy who’d just been born. Bob was there in his hoodie with a roll-up cigarette. He showed us around his studio where he makes the gates. Then he cornered me and said, “I’ve got this new album, I want to play it to you.” He played me the whole of Together Through Life on a boombox and it was fantastic! Like any artist, when you’ve got something new to play you’re excited, but you’re also pretty nervous – ‘What are they thinking?!’ It was wonderful to see him so excited about his music. He’s never lost that passion; he’s always trying to change things around. He’s an amazing man – you don’t know anything about him, but he’s always doing something artistic. Whether it’s painting, making gates, sculpture or writing, he never stops. He’s 80 years old and still as good as he was in the ’60s, but in a completely different way. I admire that. How could you not?


JEFF TWEEDY:

Seeing Bob Dylan a lot when Wilco toured with him in 2013 was the most oddly uplifting and encouraging thing. There were a lot of people there who just can’t get enough of this guy, who’s given zero shits for so many years if they’re there or not. That’s so life-affirming! What he’s doing is way weirder than the music he was making when he was young. I had a great time. We’d get told what key “The Weight” was 10 seconds before we went on stage. It was in a different key every night, by the way. He said hi to me at the start of the tour on the way to the stage, and he knew my name, and it was about all I needed. I was really thrilled. There was no way to play it cool. I got to talk with him when we got up and played with him. One night I told him that Mavis Staples said hi. He said, “Tell her she should have married me.” [laughs]. So the next night I said, “She says she’s still available.” He said, “Yeah, right. I wish!” My impression of him was always like he’s the prettiest girl at the party, where everybody’s afraid to talk to him. When you had a moment to, the only thing shocking was that they were human.

JACKSON BROWNE: I was

there when Bob was honoured by the MusiCares Grammy organisation in February 2015. People weren’t expecting him to do a speech, because they thought it wasn’t really him – but it was long and incredibly intimate. He absolutely killed it. He said wild stuff like, “Leiber and Stoller didn’t like what I was doing.” He was saying, ‘Fuck you, Leiber and Stoller!’ Everybody in the room is going, ‘What? Are you kidding me?’ He even took a shot at Merle Haggard. People were saying, “Are you out of your mind?” By the end of this thing he’d

BLAKE MILLS:

I got a call asking if Sound City A will be available, then Bob came down one day and I gave him a tour. As soon as he walked in he went, “Yeah, this is going to work.” He was ready to go, but we just started talking about

Surfing the new wave on Letterman, March 22, 1984

5

NOTABLE TV APPEARANCES

MADHOUSE ON CASTLE STREET, 1963

P

HILIP Saville, directorofthis experimental absurdistBBC play, had seenthealmostunknown Dylan performinginNew York and brought himtoLondonto co-star. Playing a Greekchorus figure, Dylan punctuatedthe drama with four songs,including the as-yet-unrecorded“Blowin’In The Wind”. The BBCdestroyedthis historic footage in 1968.

what he had in mind to do, in terms of how many musicians and how he wanted the set-up. There are certain people who definitely construct records in layers, but for Rough And Rowdy Ways – I think for most of Bob’s records – you get the sense that it’s more performance-based and live. You don’t sit around with Bob and he explains the song to you – either you get it right away or you don’t. Everything that we did was happening in the room and performed as it sounds. So in that sense it’s quick, almost like a live show. Musicians all love hearing everybody else’s first takes, but when it comes to our own it’s really hard to live by. I’ve got a lot of respect for people like Bob, who really practise that in their own work. Interviews by Michael Bonner, Nick Hasted, Rob Hughes, Sharon O’Connell, Tom Pinnock, Sam Richards and Graeme Thomson

LATE NIGHT WITHDAVID LETTERMAN, 1984

Dylan hadn’t toured since1981 when he played live onLetterman’s talk show. Ostensiblythereto promote the recent Infidelsalbum, he delivered somethingelse: backed by three-piecepunkoutfit The Plugz, clad in regulationnew wave skinny-tie-and-drainpipes, his three-song standwasaone-off garage riot that ranksamonghis most memorable performances.

OMNIBUS: GETTING TO DYLAN, 1987

Arguably the best thingtocome out of the Hearts Of Firemovie is this BBC documentaryfilmed on set, as reporter Christopher

Sykes attempts to interview Dylan. The result is mesmerising, withDylanalternatingbetween friendly,playful,causticand unnerving:hespendstheentire timesketchinghisquestioner,even asSykesmanagestocapturean unforgettableportraitofthesinger.

DHARMAANDGREG, 1999

Viewersofthe1990ssitcom weresurprisedwhenanepisode aboutDharma(JennaElfman) takingupdrumsconcludedwith herauditioningforDylan–whose appearancewasn’tadvertised priortoairing.Oneoftheshow’s writers,EddieGorodetsky,isa Dylanpal–helatercollaborated onThemeTimeRadioHour.

EXPERIMENTENSAM, 2014

ThisSwedishwebseriessought toinvestigatewhatit’slikeforone persontodoalonewhatpeople onlyeverexperienceingroups–in thiscase,attendingaDylanshow. FredrikWikingssonwasthelucky, lonelyguineapig,asBobandhis bandcameonstagetoplayaset offavouritecovers,includingsongs byBuddyHollyandLittleWalter, atPhiladelphia’sotherwiseempty AcademyOfMusic. DAMIENLOVE

Dylan in Madhouse... in 1963 and (right) in Dharma And Greg

AL LEVINE/NBCU PHOTO BANK/NBCUNIVERSAL VIA GETTY IMAGES VIA GETTY IMAGES; LESTER COHEN/WIREIMAGE; SAMMY TWEEDY; KOURTNEY KYUNG SMITH; GETTY IMAGES

Accepting the MusiCares Person Of The Year award, LA, February 6, 2015

shammed everybody all along the way, really. But the point he was making was really interesting. He said that somebody who grew up singing “John Henry” might go on to write “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall”. He was very sparing on quoting himself or aggrandising what he did. He wasn’t trying to do that; he was trying to say where he came from. That’s what was so great about it. For everybody who was wondering how it all happened for him, the simple answer was folk music and the engagement with those long, deep struggles of all the people who make up this country.


tunng’s

Tue 23 Nov CARDIFF

LET THE BAD TIMES ROLL TOUR Plus special Guests

MOTORPOINT ARENA Wed 24 Nov BIRMINGHAM RESORTS WORLD ARENA Fri 26 Nov LONDON THE SSE ARENA WEMBLEY Sat 27 Nov GLASGOW THE SSE HYDRO Mon 29 Nov MANCHESTER AO ARENA Tue 30 Nov LEEDS FIRST DIRECT ARENA f/OFFSPRING l@OFFSPRING AEGPRESENTS.CO.UK | AXS.COM TICKETMASTER.CO.UK

‘THE NEW ALBUM LET THE BAD TIMES ROLL OUT 16 APRIL’

AEG PRESENTS IN ASSOCIATION WITH X RAY


EXCLUSIVE DYLAN COVERS CD

Introducing…

DYLAN ...REVISITED Dylan, 1983

LYNN GOLDSMITH/CORBIS/VCG VIA GETTY IMAGES; PICTORIAL PRESS LTD/ALAMY STOCK PHOTO; ALEXA VISCIUS; COLIN MEDLEY; COWBOY JUNKIES ARCHIVE; JACQUELINE SCHLOSSMAN

“B

EING asked to cover a Dylan song is quite difficult,” admits Richard Thompson. “You think, ‘How do you do that?’ After all, his personality is so interwoven into the songs.” Despite the difficulties in reinterpreting Dylan – and the restrictions of various lockdowns around the globe – Thompson and 13 more of our favourite artists have unpicked some of Dylan’s finest songs to help Uncut celebrate his 80th birthday. There are radical reimaginings from Thurston Moore and Fatoumata Diawara, textured soundscapes from Low and Weyes Blood, epic grandeur from Cowboy Junkies and Frazey Ford, and much more. As if that weren’t enough, we’re also proud to unveil a previously unreleased song performed by Dylan himself. “Something about the odd mixture of paranoia, fervour, desire, faith and darkness feels strangely relevant to me and relevant to this time,” says The Weather Station’s Tamara Lindeman of her pick, “Precious Angel”. “But that’s the way Dylan songs always are – so timeless.”

1

Too Late (Acoustic Version)

We lead off with this exclusive and previously unreleased track kindly dug out for Uncut from Dylan’s own archive. Recorded in April 1983 at New York’s Power Station during sessions for Infidels, the song eventually morphed into “Foot Of Pride”, later released on The Bootleg Series Vol 1-3. Raw and urgent, it harks back to Dylan’s earlier work with its rough, jangling guitars and evocative lyrics: “Sing me one more song about your summer romance, or maybe that one about your one-night stand with Errol Flynn…”

2

This Wheel’s On Fire Engineered and produced by Richard Thompson at Trellis Sound Studio; harmony vocals by Zara Phillips

TOM PINNOCK

Richard Thompson

THOMPSON: “We did ‘This Wheel’s On Fire’ as an encore song with the band a few years ago. I’ve

always loved the song but I’ve never liked any of the versions by other people, so I always wanted to do my own. It’s a home recording – it’s me playing everything – but I think it turned out pretty well. I first heard the song as a ‘Basement Tape’ [in the late ’60s] – we knew Dylan’s UK publisher and you could just pop round there and they’d have a pile of acetates to listen to.”

3

To Ramona Engineered, produced, mixed and performed by Courtney Marie Andrews in Bisbee, Arizona; mastered by Ed Brooks

Back in our March 2021 issue, Andrews flagged Dylan’s Tell Tale Signs: Rare And Unreleased 1989–2006 as one of her most important creative inspirations. Here, though, she heads back to the other end of the songwriter’s career to take on a cut from his fourth album, 1964’s Another

The Flaming Lips

Courtney Marie Andrews

Cowboy Junkies

The Weather Station 74 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

Thurston Moore

Side Of Bob Dylan. With its lilting Mexican-inspired melody, it’s a fine fit for Andrews, who’s long been inspired by the south-of-theborder sounds she heard growing up in Arizona.

4

Lay Lady Lay Produced by The Flaming Lips and Scott Booker at Pink Floor Studios; engineered by Michael Ivins

WAYNE COYNE: “I think every songwriter loves this type of ‘romantic’ Bob Dylan song – he really can be very charming. That line ‘Whatever colours you have in your mind/I show them to you and you see them shine…’ It’s the type of wordplay, though it seems kind of like jumbled surrealism, that actually gets to an unspeakable awkward truth.”

5

Precious Angel Recorded by Jeremy Darby; mixed by Tamara Lindeman

TAMARA LINDEMAN: “This song is from Slow Train Coming – I really love this record, and I’ve always wanted to sing this song. But of course I am not Christian nor am I a man, so as it is for so many songs in the Western canon that address either a woman or a god, I found a way to remove some verses and reorder others to make it a secular song, one I feel I can sing. In my iteration, I see it as an ode to a person who, through sheer strength of vision and wisdom, cuts through the noise and confusion of a tangled time. That’s something I don’t think I’ve ever really heard a song about, and it’s something so beautiful and important, and so worth having a song about.”


Brigid Mae Power

Frazey Ford

Patterson Hood and Jay Gonzalez

6

I’ve Made Up My Mind To Give Myself To You Produced, recorded and mixed by Michael Timmins at The Hangar, Toronto; performed by Margo Timmins (vocals), Michael Timmins (guitar and ukulele), Peter Timmins (drums), Alan Anton (drums and keyboards)

Toronto’s finest bring us up to date with this stately, lightly psych version of one of the highlights from Rough And Rowdy Ways. Margo Timmins’ yearning voice deepens the sense of longing, while Blake Mills’ sublime guitar parts in the original are here countered by Michael Timmins’ hazy backwards solo.

7

Buckets Of Rain Recorded by Eva Prinz at the Daydream Library in London

Locked down in his London home, Moore transforms the closing song from Blood On The Tracks into an acoustic urban blues, highlighting the grounding drone at its heart. This isn’t the first time the guitarist has sung a Dylan song: most notably, Sonic Youth contributed their version of “I’m Not There” to Todd Haynes’ 2007 film of the same title.

8

Blowin’ In The Wind Recorded and mixed at Edac Studio, Como, Italy, by Andrea Fognini and Davide Lasala; performed by Fatoumata Diawara (vocals, electric guitar) and Davide Lasala (drums, bass, guitar)

Diawara joins Stevie Wonder, Marlene Dietrich and Peter, Paul & Mary on the list of those who’ve reinterpreted Dylan’s early anthem

Low

Joan Shelley and Nathan Salsburg

Jason Lytle

Weyes Blood

– yet few versions are as radical as this reimagining, the Malian musician/ actress turning the song into a rousing electric piece led by her stunning vocal work and blistering lead guitar.

9

One More Cup Of Coffee Produced and performed by Brigid Mae Power at home in Galway

POWER: “I’ve always loved Bob Dylan. When I was 18 I was so inspired after reading Chronicles that I packed everything up and moved to New York City. Alas, I did not find 1960s NYC like I thought I would – but to move there was a starting point for me as an artist. I find his work very genuinely spiritual and his writing intuitive, which is always the kind of work that speaks to me the most. I chose ‘One More Cup Of Coffee’ because I’ve always loved it – I love Emmylou Harris’s backing vocals too. The melody has a sort of a cool Eastern feel.”

10

Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door Performed by Low; produced by Alan Sparhawk at 20° Below; engineered by Alan Sparhawk and Keenan McIntyre-Talbott

Geographically, at least, Low are the closest here to the roots of Bob Dylan, hailing from his hometown of Duluth, Minnesota, on the western shore of Lake Superior. With its hypnotic chords, choral harmonies and slow, steady pace, “…Heaven’s Door” is a natural choice for the trio.

11 J

Dark Eyes Recorded at home; performed by Joan Shelley (vocals) and Nathan Salsburg (guitars)

The forlorn, strippeddown coda to 1985’s Empire Burlesque is here revitalised by Louisville’s Shelley and Salsburg: the latter handles the guitars, on clipped acoustic picking and star-spangled electric, while Shelley interprets Dylan’s words with her usual skill and restraint. Even more than on the original, their version brings out the deep influence that British and American traditional folk music has had on the songwriter over the past eight decades.

12

Blind Willie McTell Recorded at The Heathen Room in Portland, Oregon, and The Carport in Athens, Georgia; performed, produced and recorded by Hood and Gonzalez; mixed by Gonzalez; mastered by David Barbe

HOOD: “This is a Dylan song I had long heard of but only recently actually started listening to. It’s become one of my all-time favourite Dylan songs – perhaps an all-time favourite song, period. When all this is over and I’m able to play in person with my band, I hope to work up a full band version of ‘Blind Willie McTell’ to play out live.”

13

The Times They Are A-Changin’ Recorded at Afterlife Studio, Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada; produced by Frazey Ford and John Raham; engineered and mixed by John Raham; performed by Frazey Ford (lead vocals, electric guitar, keyboards), Darren Parris (bass), Leon Power (drums) and Phil Cook (keyboards)

FORD: “I believe the lyrics to ‘The Times They Are A-Changin’ are even more applicable today than when they were originally written. I recorded this track just a few days after the insurrection at the US capitol on January 6, 2021, and it’s haunting to me how accurate the images are to our times.”

14

Most Of The Time Performed, produced and recorded by Jason Lytle at some apartment he can’t wait to move out of

LYTLE: “Earlier in 2020 the streaming service I was halfway listening to played me this song. I knew it was his voice, but the production was dreamier than I was used to hearing in his songs. Then I honed in on the words and was extra perplexed. I became obsessed. The song blew me away; it’s like it came out of nowhere and found me. Learning and playing it was fascinating too, as it revealed itself in stages and only very slowly to me. I’m still very confused and in awe of it.”

15 W

Sad Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands Produced by Natalie Mering at 64 Sound, Los Angeles; engineered by Andrew Sarlo and Kenny Gilmore; performed by Natalie Mering, Josh Adams, Eliana Athayde, Drew Erickson

What better way to end than with this epic from the creator of Titanic Rising, Uncut’s album of 2019. In keeping with the vivid soundscapes that envelop her own songs, Natalie Mering’s version starts off understated and quiet, before gradually, effortlessly building into a rich and baroque triumph. JUNE2021•UNCUT•75

AIDA MULUNEH; SHELLEY MOSSMAN; AMBER ESTES THIENEMAN; ELI HOOD; KATHRYN VETTER MILLER

Fatoumata Diawara


FULL MOON FEVER After a hiatus of 16 years, old friends WILL OLDHAM and MATT SWEENEY have finally made a new collaborative album, Superwolves. While silver bullets are not necessary, the pair explain to Tom Pinnock why they’re “comfortable with the apocalypse”, the impact of David Berman’s death on their recording sessions, and the pernicious influence of The Wizard Of Oz Photo by JONAH FREEMAN & JUSTIN LOWE

“W

E’RE gonna find the nursing home that has the best recording studio,” declares Will Oldham. “There’s probably a lot of demand.” “There should be!” says Matt Sweeney. “Fuck yes, that’d be amazing. We should start getting an eye towards that.” At the end of April, the pair’s second album together, the reliably excellent Superwolves, will finally see release 16 years after their debut, 2005’s Superwolf. This care-home option, they joke, may be the only way they’ll make a third collaborative record. “I mean, I’m not the fastest person in the world, as far as my output goes,” says Sweeney, explaining the delay. “But it was just life stuff, nothing too crazy.” The record is the work of two serial collaborators – Oldham has over the past three decades, mainly as Bonnie “Prince” Billy, worked with the likes of Angel Olsen, Bill Callahan, Bitchin’ Bajas, The Cairo Gang and Meg Baird, while Sweeney’s credits include Iggy Pop, Cat Stevens, Neil Diamond, Stephen Malkmus, Cat Power and Songhoy Blues. Yet there’s something singularly special about this partnership in particular, something that transcends both of these men’s usual working practices. “Oftentimes for me, the excitement is hearing creative folks in a room together,” says Oldham. “Being able to capture something as it’s happening. But in the case of this album, the excitement is capturing confidence – like a snapshot of you on your wedding day or graduation when you look fantastic and you want to put that picture on your wall. So this record is more like, ‘Yeah, this is me looking really sweet’.” 76 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021


SUPERWOLVES Thesteppin’ wolves: Will Oldham (left) and Matt Sweeney


D.V. DeVINCENTIS

SUPERWOLVES Written over the past five years, Superwolves is the product of a generally fixed process: Oldham writes lyrics and sends them to Sweeney, who comes up with music and a melody line, before both then bat the piece back and forth until it’s finally finished. “When I was a child, I was taught that if you speak two languages, you’re worth two men,” says Oldham, discussing their partnership. “Music is a kind of language, and the reason to learn it is to connect and communicate with somebody else.” The 14 songs on Superwolves are growers with the feel of long-loved classics, expertly and sensitively arranged, played and sung, with an assurance born from experience. Such is the spirit of collaboration powering the project, this time Oldham and Sweeney also brought some friends along, including Nigerien guitarists Mdou Moctar and Ahmoudou Madassane, as well as Nashville bassist and longtime Oldham collaborator David Ferguson. David Blaine and David Berman are present too, in spirit at least. “I think Matt and Will bring the best out of each other,” says Ferguson. “They have the ability to really listen to the other guy and do something that makes the other guy’s parts even better.” “Will’s process isn’t strictly goal-oriented,” says Nathan Salsburg, who’s worked, often alongside Joan Shelley, on multiple Oldham releases, such as 2019’s I Made A Place. “It was also about the joy of making music in enjoyable company.” That sentiment perhaps rings even truer for Oldham’s work with Sweeney. To elucidate on the story of the record, the pair are video-calling Uncut to also tell the tale of their friendship,

one that spans Manhattan bars and London dressing rooms, taking in validation in Louisville playgrounds and the joys of getting “comfortable with the apocalypse”. “One of the things that made Matt and I connect,” says Oldham, “is that we were ready and willing and eager to go deep fast, and then we could change subjects and move on with our lives. You don’t really encounter that in a lot of people – and usually, if you do, you realise, often too late, that the person you’ve gone deep fast with is mentally ill.” “Playing with Will at first was really a time of trying new things,” says Sweeney. “I’d been playing loud rock music in Chavez, and it was an opportunity to do something else, to accompany a singer whose songs weren’t like any songs I’d written before, certainly someone I really loved and appreciated.”

The dynamic duo in 2005. Above: sleeves for “Little Boy Blue”, “Let’s Start A Family” and Slint’s Spiderland

“AM I HAPPY WITH WHAT I’VE MADE? OH YEAH” WILL OLDHAM

W

HEN Uncut speaks to Will Oldham, he’s in the attic of his home in Louisville, Kentucky, clutching what appears to be a pint of coffee. “When my daughter was born a couple of years ago, I had to move my recording stuff into the attic,” he says. “We bought a coffee machine a few months ago and put it up here, and now my wife and I use it as a refuge in the morning, taking turns. It’s awesome, it’s the best room in the house!” Matt Sweeney is in his apartment in Manhattan, presumably not far from where the pair first met in the late 1990s, though neither exactly remembers the first encounter. What is certain is that Sweeney was at that time sharing a Bowery loft with former Slint and Breeders drummer Britt Walford, who had grown up with Oldham in Louisville; a well-known piece of trivia being that Oldham shot the cover for Slint’s Spiderland. “I feel like it was summer,” says Sweeney. “I seem to remember being outside, checking out New York. There was a lot of hanging with David Berman at the time, a lot of memorable hanging at the Mars Bar, a famous bar that looked like pirates could have lived in there. Halcyon memories? Faded ones, sure, but good.” “What did we bond over?” asks Oldham. “Everything that people bond over: music and life, the meaning of life.”


Prowling at the Montreux Jazz Festival, 2005

LUPINE HOWLS

The best of Matt Sweeney and Bonnie “Prince” Billy’s work together BONNIE “PRINCE” BILLY EASE DOWN THE ROAD PALACE/DOMINO, 2001

The subdued follow-up to I See A Darkness also featured Matt Sweeney on guitar, banjo and vocals, plus a guest turn from Harmony Korine, who designed the cover of Superwolves. 8/10

BONNIE “PRINCE” BILLY

SINGS GREATEST PALACE MUSIC

DRAG CITY/DOMINO, 2004

Sweeney is also on hand for this reimagining of Oldham’s wonkier early work, alongside a host of hardy Nashville country sessioneers. 7/10

MATT SWEENEY & BONNIE “PRINCE” BILLY

SUPERWOLF DRAG CITY/DOMINO, 2005

BONNIE “PRINCE” BILLY

SUMMER IN THE SOUTHEAST SEA NOTE, 2005

Oldham’s grainy first live album, with Matt Sweeney on guitar. Naturally, a few Superwolf cuts make the setlist. 6/10

MATT SWEENEY & BONNIE “PRINCE” BILLY MUST BE BLIND DOMINO, 2011

The ’wolves reunite for this limited 10-inch single, its grungy electric guitars lifted by mandolin and massed backing vocals. 7/10

BILL CALLAHAN & BONNIE “PRINCE” BILLY FEAT MATT SWEENEY OD’D IN DENVER DRAG CITY, 2020

The partnership known to some as WillBilly recruited Sweeney to create the music for this gothic cover of Hank Williams Jr’s 1979 track, just one highlight in their long run of 2020 singles. 7/10

MATT SWEENEY & BONNIE “PRINCE” BILLY

SUPERWOLVES DRAG CITY/DOMINO, 2021

The pair present 14 moving, menacing triumphs: certainly one of the finest records either has ever been involved in. 8/10

or otherwise,” says Walford. Meanwhile, David Ferguson credits their success as a songwriting duo to their “mutual respect for the creative”. Their reticence to sell it might have suggested otherwise but its creators were also delighted with the album and had always planned to follow it up. “When I write with Will, I’m definitely trying to do the coolest shit I could possibly do on guitar,” says Sweeney. “Just like, ‘Alright, this is everything that I’ve learnt and everything that I wanna do that I’m gonna put into this thing, because I’m gonna have a singer who’s gonna be similarly doing it with his voice.’ I’m not trying to be show-off-y, just trying to do something that’s stepping to what I think is cool about guitar.”

W

HEN Superwolves was being mixed, Matt Sweeney regularly walked from his home in lower Manhattan to Brooklyn’s Strange Weather studio. With the pandemic in full swing, he found that the city he’s called home for decades was radically changed. “I’d see maybe three people on my walk,” he says. “It was crazy. I’d be walking over the Williamsburg JUNE 2021 • UNCUT •79

LIONELFLUSIN/GAMMA-RAPHOVIAGETTYIMAGES

“I remember them falling in together quickly,” says Britt Walford. “Us, particularly them, having a good time. We’d go to Max Fish, and Tonic, and a bar at Ludlow and Stanton.” Their first collaborations were in the vein of Sweeney’s regular and shrewd session work, most notably on a three-track seven-inch of covers released by Oldham under the one-off nom de plume Bonnie “Blue” Billy, and on “Let’s Start A Family”, a Bonnie “Prince” Billy single for Sub Pop. “I was on maybe kick drum, thigh slaps and bass,” laughs Sweeney. “At least on those two seven-inches, I wasn’t playing any guitar. But I saw someone who was working in a tradition of songwriting I wanted to know more about – country and folk, even an olde English style of writing.” Sweeney toured as part of Oldham’s band and appeared on 2001 Bonnie “Prince” Billy record Ease Down The Road (the follow-up proper to 1999’s pivotal I See A Darkness), before Oldham threw down the gauntlet to his collaborator. “Was it via email?” says the singer. “First you sent an email that said, ‘Hey, I have this solo show in London, do you want to join me for a few songs?’ And then the next email was, ‘Challenge! How about I send you some lyrics, you make up a song and we’ll play them at the same show…’” This was a baptism of fire for the duo, who were still finessing their first three co-writes in their Shepherd’s Bush Empire dressing room when Laurence Bell, co-founder of Domino Records, was forced to knock on the door to tell them they were due onstage. “It really was a classic anxiety dream,” says Sweeney, recalling that night in October 2003. “It was a big fucking show as well! It was definitely put up or shut up.” Those three songs – “Beast For Thee”, “What Are You?” and “Bed Is For Sleeping” – became cornerstones of their first collaborative album, Superwolf, in 2005. It’s a strippeddown record, consisting mostly of Sweeney’s electric guitar and Oldham’s voice. But with the former’s complex picking and melodic gifts and the latter’s versatile delivery – not to mention their myriad shared interests, from punk to country, Roy Harper to Tuareg music – the result is magical. They barely promoted it and the record was overlooked by many, yet it still picked up a devoted cult following: Rick Rubin remains an evangelical fan, as does Neil Young. “I have a closeness to Superwolf because of my work with Will and also with Matt,” says regular Oldham collaborator Emmett Kelly. “They are both titans, and their music has been a point of reckoning for me since I first encountered it. Does Will do things differently to other songwriters? He does. He is a singular man.” “My insight into Will’s and Matt’s collaboration is them having an openness to each other, and to inspiration, musical

Their first full collaboration, entirely captivating from the ragged blues of opener “My Home Is The Sea” to the despairing electric lament “I Gave You”. 8/10


SUPERWOLVES Bridge, listening intensely to this music I care about and looking at a giant, dead city.” There’s certainly a dark, meditative air to much of the record, from the acoustic sorrow of “You Can Regret What You Have Done” and the menace of “Watch What Happens” and “Make Worry For Me” to the lilt of their take on The Gosdin Brothers’ “There Must Be A Someone”; an apocalyptic air, perhaps, with a narrator who’s resigned and philosophical about the impending doom. “That’s my working motto,” laughs Oldham. “‘Get comfortable with the apocalypse.’” “To me, the sound of Will’s voice is a lot of times about the closeness between apocalypse and joy,” agrees Sweeney. “For me [writing the music], the thing is how much the music is going to reflect the lyrics and how much it’s going to contrast with them. Music changes what words can mean.” “As a relatively new father, I’m re-experiencing lots of classics of children’s literature and films,” says Oldham. “I’m seeing it’s an effective formula – when you think of The Wizard Of Oz, there’s so much threat and so much comforting too. It’s something we look to our music and films for, more so than books. Adults who read Harry Potter are still looking for that stuff. Hopefully that’s not our audience.” There’s comfort here on “My Popsicle”, a song of devotion to Oldham’s daughter – “my popsicle, made by your mom and me” – and the nursery-rhymelike “Shorty’s Ark”.But that threat is always around the corner too: on “Good To My Girls”, Oldham sings from the point of view of a brothel madame, while on “Make Worry For Me” he keens, “There’s hideous demons and creatures at play… I’ve got monsters inside of me that must be born”. On many of his records as Bonnie “Prince” Billy, Oldham harnesses the power of the present, with mistakes, moments of high emotion and sparse or difficult arrangements often setting the tone. “Am I happy with everything I’ve made?” he says. “Oh yeah. I’m happy with the mistakes as well. It’s not the end thing, it’s the way to the next piece of music.” “Recording was the first time we all heard one another,” says Joan Shelley, recalling her work with Oldham on I Made A Place. “Will taught me that the process of recording the songs turns out to be more important than one person’s ideal arrangement of them.” The arrangements on Superwolves, on the contrary, are more thought-out, the product of careful consideration and conversation between guitarist and singer. The outcome is more classic in feel, a little more palatable but in no way less affecting. Oldham’s voice, especially, has rarely sounded better, whether on the swooping folk holler of “Hall Of Death” or the disarming croon of “My Blue Suit”. “He fully explores what’s available to him as a singer, engaging his whole body,” says Shelley. “Some singers want to sound pretty or want to demonstrate ability but part of the beauty of Will’s voice lies in its immediacy and honesty and joy.” Sweeney’s backing vocals also add to the likes

“Getting comfortable with the apocalypse”: Sweeney and Oldham

“I WANT PEOPLE TO CONNECT TO THIS MUSIC”

of the lovestruck country ballad “Resist The Urge”, on which Oldham addresses his loved ones from the other side: “I’m holding you and singing strong and constant in your ear/I may not be there bodily but in the wind I’m here”. “We were in the studio together in Nashville on the day David Berman died,” says Oldham. “We were probably well into a lot of the writing of these but his passing was a very significant event of the past few years – those kind of events cast a new light on everything you do; you learn who you are and where you stand and potentially why you exist when something so earth-shattering to your existence happens. So I think that informs the record, for sure. In a parallel universe, if David was still with us, maybe there’d be a little more levity to our record. But our job is to make music out of the raw materials of our life. If you have the ability, to make something beautiful out of something terrible is the best David Berman course of action.” and (below)

JONAHFREEMAN&JUSTINLOWE;EDDWESTMACOTT/PHOTOSHOT/GETTYIMAGES;JOHNNYLOUIS/FILMMAGIC

MATT SWEENEY

80 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

“H

E probably doesn’t say it to Will’s face but David Blaine is a huge fan of his,” says Sweeney. “I would say, of the people I know, he might be Will’s biggest fan.” The three are friends and Blaine asked them to write a song for his planned retirement TV special, which instead turned into a live tour in 2017. The song, “Not

David Blaine

Fooling”, would close the show each night. Oldham and Sweeney were proud of it, Blaine was happy. But the pair felt the track, played as the audience left theatres, had understandably been overlooked. “I had proposed the LP end with ‘You Can Regret What You Have Done’,” says Sweeney. “Will said, ‘That’s just too much of a downer.’” “At the end of a record,” Oldham chips in, wryly, “in saying ‘you can regret what you’ve done’, are we maybe saying that we regret making this record? But with ‘Make Worry For Me’ at the beginning and ‘Not Fooling’ at the end, those are the two songs that address themselves directly to the audience, whereas the rest of it is much more narrative. “David is incredibly sweet. I called him to ask if he was OK with us putting it on the album and within five minutes he called back and said, ‘It’d be an honour.’” “It’s always exciting working with Will because every project is different and you get to be creative,” says David Ferguson, who contributed stand-up bass to “Resist The Urge” and “There Must Be A Someone”. “He’s such a great singer that he’ll sing things that are otherworldly and give you goosebumps. Will and Matt really had their parts together and, for the most part, they knew exactly what they wanted to do.” The first single, “Hall Of Death”, is very much the outlier on the album, written in collaboration with Nigerien guitarist Ahmoudou Madassane – creator of the fantastic 2017 soundtrack to


Will Oldham, London,1993

created their own range of herbal tea and coffee, picked by Oldham and Sweeney, respectively. We can, it seems, thank the pandemic for this new engagement. “Maybe more so than before because of what’s gone on,” says Sweeney, “I want people to connect to this music, as I think it’s a good thing for people to connect to music. It means something more to me because of the lack of being able to connect.” “As it is,” says Oldham, “what else am I going to do right now than dig in to this record?”

Slint’s Britt Walford recalls a young WillOldham

Saharan acid western Zerzura – and performed with help from fellow Tuareg guitarist Mdou Moctar and his band, including Madassane on rhythm guitar. “Matt lives close to Mikey Coltun, who plays bass with Mdou,” explains Oldham. “We were working on a song that isn’t on this record, we needed to finish it, and we said, ‘Well, how do we fill this song out, make it exciting? Maybe these guys would be interested in playing on it…’ When they got to town, we got together at Mikey’s place and just see what happened before we got in the studio. The energy was really strong and a song started to come together. I’d never done anything like that before – all the elements were coming together, I was in the corner writing lyrics – and then we went into the studio the next day and said, ‘Right, let’s do that song we worked on last night.’” “It was fun!” says Mahamadou Souleymane, AKA Mdou Moctar. “I feel honoured that my band and I got to record on their album. Matt Sweeney is a sweet person, has a big heart. He has always supported our band. Will’s voice is amazing and I love the way he sings. Playing with them is something I will remember forever.” The result is the record’s most up-tempo moment, a mix of British folk and Sahel energy, not unlike Richard Thompson if his musical influences hewed closer to his Sufi faith. When Uncut mentions this, it sets Sweeney and Oldham off on a joyous conversation about the guitarist and how stoked they are to receive copies of his memoir. Their deep friendship shows in this kind of conversation, as they pepper their jokes with deeper thoughts. “I almost feel like some of his modal playing led him to the faith that he embraced,” suggests Oldham. If the duo perhaps neglected Superwolf upon its release – Oldham largely ascribes to the Minutemen philosophy, “let the products sell themselves” – they’re giving their all to its follow-up. As well as doing interviews, they’re about to announce gigs, and have so far unveiled three videos, including a clip for “Make Worry For Me” filmed at the Ohio underground art installation A Cell In The Smile. Plus, following in the footsteps of Jarvis Cocker, they’ve

“I MET Will when we had English together at school, and I got to know him better after I became friends with his older brother, Ned, when I was in seventh grade. When I first encountered him outside school, Will seemed independent, iconoclastic and even contrarian. In retrospect, it seems there was some rivalry – Ned made a punk rock/hardcore fanzine called Little Friend, Will later made his own called Big Enemy. Being himself, Will became more and more intriguing until we all started hanging out with him. He and I began sharing common interests, much of them around music, and became close rather quickly. He’d pick me up on his way to school in his Chevrolet Citation and we’d play four square every morning – he was very creative with the complicated and cutting-edge rules for that game. He was a leader in finding new things and in expressing himself. He always maintained his independence and did his own thing, and he took himself seriously in a way that I still find inspiring.”

Superwolves by Matt Sweeney & Bonnie “Prince” Billy is released on April 30 by Domino

JONAH FREEMAN & JUSTIN LOWE; MARTYN GOODACRE/GETTY IMAGES; KARL WALTER/GETTY IMAGES

BONNIE “T BOY

HERE are a diversity of Louisvilles,” says Nathan Salsburg, “but to the several Louisvilles we move in and among the most, Will’s a beloved and revered personage.” Cult artists can filter into the mainstream, though, even if they do their best not to – there’s Sweeney playing guitar on Adele’s 21, and Johnny Cash covering Bonnie “Prince” Billy’s “I See A Darkness” with Oldham himself on 2000’s American III: Solitary Man. “Over the weekend, we were in a playground in Louisville,” says Oldham. “There was a heavy-looking baby, about three or four years old, he looked kinda hardcore – and he had a Johnny Cash hoodie on. I was so excited, that I’m connected to this kid in this way!” Being lifer musicians, Sweeney and Oldham are keen to discuss the business – mostly, that is, the business they’re glad not to be a part of. They agree that they’ve reached a perfect level of notoriety, and that with more fame comes only diminishing returns, as well as, according to Sweeney, “not even that much more dough! Fuck, it’s miserable if your popularity is the gauge of your success.” After they’re done with Superwolves, both hope they can start sculpting new songs together, amid the many projects they’re both sure to embark on. Even over the past year there has been a flood of collaborative singles from Oldham and Bill Callahan, featuring guest spots from Ben Chasny, Cassie Berman, Cooper Crain, Ty Segall and, naturally, Sweeney. “I’m sitting on a couple of new songs with Will that I think will hatch,” reckons the guitarist. “This has a lot more of a secure footing than most of the recording projects I’ve ever been involved with,” says Oldham. “We’re getting older and working on our chops so ideally that’s going to make itself evident. OK, it doesn’t always, as people advance in their lives, sometimes you’re like, ‘Why is this worse than the last record?!’ But I think, in this case, it is better. Music is about communication, and it’s beautiful to connect with an audience. But if you can have a fluent conversation with a master, it’s the ultimate achievement.”


Field Music The Brewis brothers reflect on 16 years of pragmatic pop classicism

O

N completion of their new album, the bright and poignant Flat White Moon, Field Music’s Peter Brewis came to a realisation. “I think we’ve done as many albums as Led Zeppelin did!” he declares proudly. “And sold about 80 million less…” Yet Field Music’s mere survival, as a cottage industry on the far outskirts of the pop mainstream, is worth any number of platinum discs. “We’re really lucky that we’ve managed to develop an audience that are happy with all of these tangents we might go off on,” says David Brewis. “It’s partly luck, and partly because that’s what we’ve forced on them! And maybe driven a few casual listeners away. But if that’s the price of being able to do whatever we want, that’s how it’s got to be.” There are other sacrifices too, of course. It’s hard to imagine Led Zeppelin building their own studio – three times – or driving themselves to gigs by borrowing their dad’s car. And the brothers remain rooted in Sunderland, as much out of financial necessity as overriding affection for their hometown. “Sunderland’s really cheap to live,” says Peter frankly. “I don’t think we could live anywhere else in the UK.” There is an old-fashioned view that artists need to be absolved of all practical responsibility in order to tap into the muse, but the Brewises are having none of it. “We use the pragmatism as a way to make the space to be creative,” argues David. “And the creativity happens in our brains – it doesn’t require all those clichéd rock’n’roll stimuli. We’re thinking about things all the time.”

FIELD MUSIC MEMPHISINDUSTRIES,2005

Animpressivedebutthatquickly establishestheabidingFieldMusic tenetsofresourcefulness,melody andlyricalself-doubt DAVID: From 1997 to the end of 2003 we were flailing around, waiting for someone to tell us what to do. We thought that going into someone else’s studio would make it real, and it didn’t. So we realised that we’d just have to do it ourselves. At the time, we were very anti-cliché and very sceptical about how people talked about music – a totally normal song with a load of squiggly synth noises on the top, for me that’s not experimental enough. So we’re going to take totally normal sounds and make really strange music. Looking back, it still sounds a bit like a collection of interesting ideas that we didn’t quite know how to execute. I have a fondness for it, though. PETER: Tom English from Maxïmo Park couldn’t do the band any more, so it ended up being me, Dave and Andy [Moore, keyboards/bass]. We approached it like The Doors, 82 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

where you have a keyboard guy who plays bass as well. Which was great for Andy because he was a big Ray Manzarek disciple. Neither of us were going to be the Lizard King, but we did start to have fun rather than worrying. So for the next record it was, “Right, let’s just get in and play.”

TONES OF TOWN MEMPHISINDUSTRIES,2007

Thebandtakejointownershipof anoldschoolbuildinginwhich theyrecordtheirlove/hateletter toSunderland DAVID: The first album was pieced together in a load of different ways. When it came to Tones Of Town, we were able to rehearse and record seven new songs within a month. PETER: There was so little arts or music infrastructure in Sunderland that we set up a co-operative – basically a room with microphones that we shared with The Futureheads and a couple of other friends. DAVID: It was the turret classroom of an old 1930s school building. The drums were recorded in there and

A Field of three: Peter Brewis and (right) David Brewis with keys player Andy Moore, 2006

then we used the ladies toilets downstairs for the main reverb. We could control the length of reverb by how many cubicle doors we had open. PETER: I was certainly thinking about the love/hate relationship I have with Sunderland. DAVID: We’d just gone through a period where we were living together in one of the dodgier areas of town, with constant violent karaoke nights going on in the various pubs nearby. We were driving back at night from gigs so we could work the next day, wearing ourselves out to get back to this place which didn’t particularly feel like home. And at the same time we felt a responsibility to represent this place. It’s always a strange mix of feelings with Sunderland.

SCHOOL OF LANGUAGE SEA FROM SHORE/ THE WEEK THAT WAS THE WEEK THAT WAS MEMPHISINDUSTRIES,2008

Feeling misunderstood, FieldMusic temporarily splitup– although bothBrewis

brothersplayoneachothers’ excellentsolorecords DAVID: I don’t think we realised how long it might take people to find us. People are still discovering us now, even though we’ve been doing it for 16 years. But when you’re putting every ounce of yourself into it, driving your dad’s estate to gigs every weekend and maybe only one in every 10 of those is a nice experience, it’s pretty depressing. People didn’t seem to be getting it. It finished me off, I was done in. PETER: We obviously weren’t a part of that mid-noughties guitar band explosion, but it was depressing that we were judged in that context. DAVID: When we stopped the band, we didn’t know if it was forever or just taking a break. Looking back, it was the best thing we could possibly do because we started to make our own context. The School Of Language and The Week That Was albums were the start of us saying, “Here’s the shape of how we do things.” Peter is more of an orchestrator and a good structural


Mackem music together again: the Brewis brothers in 2011

thinker about a song. For me, at the time, there was a sense of wanting to do something that sounded disruptive, a bit jarring and on the edge. PETER: They’re still very hummable tunes, though. DAVID: Well I think that’s something that’s common across everything we’ve ever done. No matter what else we’re taking in, melody is always to the forefront.

FIELD MUSIC (MEASURE) MEMPHISINDUSTRIES,2012

Confidencerestored,theBrewises rebootthebandwithabrilliant doublealbum DAVID: I’d done quite a long tour in the States for the School Of Language record where I’d played with musicians from Chicago. It was an amazing experience, but I got to the end of it and thought, ‘I love playing with Peter and I really miss him.’ PETER: We decided straight away that we were going to make a double album without any rules or concept to it at all – let’s just make loads and loads of music. It was something that people weren’t really doing at

the time, although then Joanna Newsom trumped us and made a triple album. We did stuff where we played together, we used drum machines, strings, we did some found-sound stuff… and we went very rock as well. DAVID: Up until then, we’d been very embarrassed about that side of our musical influence. But there was a sense of, we’re not trying to be cool any more. In fact, we’re occasionally going to deliberately do something that you will absolutely think is totally uncool, but we’re going to try to convince you that it doesn’t matter. PETER: There’s an element of not trying to rewrite the manual. DAVID: On the first two records, we were all-out for avoiding cliché.

“We obviously weren’t a part of that mid-00s guitar band explosion” PETER BREWIS

By the time we got to Measure and were feeling a bit more comfortable with ourselves, it was like: let’s play with it. Turn it around, turn it upside down, put it in quotation marks, put it in a different context and have fun with it.

PLUMB MEMPHISINDUSTRIES,2012

Quizzical,proggysetearnsField MusicaMercuryPrizenod DAVID: It had started to get difficult at the old place because occasionally you’d turn up on a Monday morning ready to practise and The Futureheads’ crew had come back from a tour and dumped all of their flight cases in the middle of the floor. PETER: [The co-op] had run out of money and because I was on the board I basically had to evict myself from the building! At that point we decided, maybe we’re not so co-operative after all and we just need to have our own studio. DAVID: We found a new space in an empty industrial unit. I managed to trap a nerve in my elbow by heroically trying to paint the

whole place in-between Christmas and New Year. PETER: While I was on holiday! But it was really straightforward and suited our purposes at the time. We could go in there from 10 til 4 every single day and just make stuff. DAVID: We decided to use all these fragments of music that didn’t lend themselves to becoming pop songs and that will be the concept. And then our old music teacher died out of the blue, and suddenly you’re having to deal with feelings like absence. Up until Measure, we’d still been pretending we were young. PETER: The record brought up some existential questions. DAVID: It was very interesting and very strange [to be nominated for the Mercury Prize]. It meant we had to rub up against a side of the music industry that we weren’t familiar or comfortable with. PETER: It’s an awards ceremony sponsored by a corporate entity – a money-making exercise. That was my attitude at the time, but then I remember the guy who books the bands at the Deaf Institute, he just told me to lighten up! If you get nominated, people’ll get a chance to hear you, and that’s good for them as well as for you. And he’s right. JUNE 2021 • UNCUT • 83


Aiming for that “confidence in being loose”: Field Music in 2020

UNCUT CLASSIC COMMONTIME

ANDY MARTIN

MEMPHIS INDUSTRIES, 2016

Imbued with the joys (and worries) of new parenthood, Commontime’s snappy funkpop gets a royal seal of approval PETER: We were getting into the idea of enjoying pop music again. I was introducing my son to The Beatles and David Bowie and I wanted to make some music that he could sing along with. DAVID: Plumb ended up being kind of proggy, so maybe it was a reaction against that; the idea of getting back to radio music, compilation music, like we would have listened to when we were kids. PETER: So that was us trying to have fun while struggling [with parenthood]. I think that’s a common theme – everything else might not be going so well, but when we get together and make music, even if we have to deal with difficult subjects, let’s have a good time. I’d rather have a good time in the studio and get juiced up on coffee than have a bad time in the studio and have to go and sort it out down the pub later on. It’s more expensive, in lots of ways. DAVID: It was very strange to think of Prince hearing our music. I was on my way to Tesco when I saw his tweet [linking to “The Noisy Days Are Over”]. It was very gnomic, and because there’s a deliberate homage to the horn arrangements of Parade at the end of that song, I didn’t know 84 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

whether it was an approving tweet or an ‘I’m about to start taking legal action’ tweet. We wrote a little article [for The Guardian] about how much we love Prince and the musical ideas we’d borrowed from him. And then he retweeted that article as well, and at that point I breathed a sigh of relief. PETER: It was around the same time as that ‘musical vibe’ case between the estate of Marvin Gaye and Robin Thicke. I was like, ‘Oh my god, I’ve stolen Prince’s vibe!’ I mean, I tried to steal it – didn’t quite get there. But I don’t think he’d have made much money if he’d sued us.

OPEN HERE MEMPHISINDUSTRIES,2018

TheBrexitvotecastsaforlorn shadowoverFieldMusic’smost lavishlyorchestratedalbum,perked upbyachild’stoykeyboard DAVID: The schisms that the Brexit vote showed up in a place like Sunderland were pretty unavoidable. PETER: The first town out of Europe! I really struggled with the idea of us no longer being part of something bigger. How do you write about things like that? Don’t use minor chords, so it doesn’t become too dreary. And always approach it like a question: what’s going on? We’d just done a film project, Asunder, and that gave us a bit of confidence to see how far we could take the scoring element. DAVID: I got my son a toy keyboard for Christmas. The problem is now that the two kids argue over who gets to control the drum machine. PETER: Ah, one’s bossa nova and the other one’s a bit more 16-beat? DAVID: But when they’re not looking,

“We always try and write what is foremost in our minds” DAVID BREWIS

I go and play on the keyboard and maybe I’ll record it on my phone. And it so happened that when I was recording this keyboard riff, I could hear my son in the background counting, so that became the start of “Count It Up”. I’m always wary of doing a finger-pointing song unless I’m also pointing the finger at myself. I’m saying, “I have this privilege and I need to not forget that when I start throwing out judgements.” We never had to worry about anything fundamental growing up, and that’s not the case for everybody.

MAKING A NEW WORLD MEMPHIS INDUSTRIES, 2020

A commission from the Imperial War Museum leads to some oddly catchy songsabouttownplanningand genderreassignmentsurgery DAVID: The museum were looking for someone to do a performance. I think they had The Fall lined up, but Mark E Smith passed away and somehow we got the call. PETER: They needed someone reliable to do something quickly… DAVID: I’m fine with that as a reputation! It could have just been an ordinary gig and that would probably have been enough to fulfil the brief, except we took it too far. With their encouragement. PETER: The Making A New World

season wasn’t about the first world war, it was about the after-effects. So let’s think about sonar, votes for women, the flu pandemic, and find a personal story in each of them. DAVID: The songs were all about an individual’s feelings on the subject matter. But it’s almost like some people were put off by the very idea. PETER: People are sold on this thing of ‘music’s for feeling, man, and not for thinking’ – but it’s for both, you know? There’s a massive tradition of being informed by music. Making A New World was probably too much for some people to handle. It was too much for us to handle, really. Especially at the time, when we were going through lots of personal turmoil. But it was good to be able to write about somebody else.

FLAT WHITE MOON MEMPHIS INDUSTRIES, 2021

A return to first principles finds the brothersprocessinglossthroughthe prismofsun-dappledmemory PETER: Our mother passed away three years ago. And I experienced a change in domestic circumstances, politically put. It all felt pretty heavy, so Making A New World was a good thing to be doing, to keep active but not have to deal with everything through music straight away. The new album is me dealing with it, but from a less horrific perspective. DAVID: We always try and write what is foremost in our minds, it feels like the most honest thing to do. But we weren’t ready for that in 2018. PETER: The Beatles are my go-to for feeling better about myself and the world. And [the later albums] are quite loose as well, so that’s what I wanted to try and do – to have a confidence in being loose. There’s some Zeppelin in there again, some Free, Dire Straits… you can only do so much with a clean Strat and not sound a bit Knopfler. Which is fine! DAVID: And a bit of every era of Fleetwood Mac, all of which were a fundamental part of our childhood. PETER: We wanted it to have warmth. DAVID: When it came to sequencing, we felt that “You Get Better” would be a good one to end with. I was thinking about Sly & The Family Stone and Parliament, so hopefully it has a little bit of that danceable energy. Although it’s still a very sceptical take on an optimistic song. That’s us – we can’t do things in a straight line. SAM RICHARDS

Flat White Moon is released on April 23 on Memphis Industries


CAN

86 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021


As a new series of live albums highlights CAN’s wild, incantatory performances, co-founder Irmin Schmidt and other eyewitnesses help Rob Young chart their progress from the Croydon Greyhound to balmy nights in Arles and Stuttgart’s Gustav-Siegle-Haus – via sought-after bootlegs, freak-noise meltdowns and the right kind of “psychic environment”…

T

HE four men who arrive on the sweaty stage of Stuttgart’s Gustav-Siegle-Haus on Halloween night in 1975 do so without any undue drama. Unlike the theatrics of other progressive rock groups of the era, they are not clad in outlandish costumes nor do they come with any elaborate stage set – no castles, polystyrene megaliths or ice rinks here. The music they quietly begin to summon – from a humming synthesiser and a whining electric guitar, unadorned by any elaborate visual pyrotechnics – conjures up misty vistas of distant hills. After three minutes, through this swirling mizzle, comes the light footfall of a drum pattern, like some warrior lost in the marshes. Punching bass notes carry the flavour of Persian scales. All the elements spiral about one another and coalesce, eventually precipitating in a groove we would recognise in the 21st century as a techno pulse. This describes the first six minutes or so of Live In Stuttgart 1975, the first in a series of restored live recordings by Can. The studio albums Can released between 1969 and 1978 were products of that happy era when a rock band could receive a living wage from a major label and JUNE 2021 • UNCUT • 87


Picking up good “vibrations”: (l-r) Holger Czukay, Jaki Liebezeit, Irmin Schmidt , Michael Karoli

touring, and still run their own live-in recording studio, giving them a totally free hand over their own music production. Their posthumous reputation is now built almost entirely on the contents of those albums, their warp-drive Teutonic response to The Velvet Underground and the Stooges, veering from hypno-funk groove to avant-garde drone science. “I always loved those wonderful relentless rhythms that used to chug away,” says Hawkwind’s Dave Brock, who bought a copy of Can’s debut, Monster Movie, as far back as 1970, “Because they were always rather avant-gardeish, with their electronics and stuff, I always found them a very interesting band. I’ve got all their records. I’ve always been a Can fan, really.” With the deaths of Holger Czukay, drummer Jaki Liebezeit and guitarist Michael Karoli, Irmin Schmidt – the band’s 83-year-old keyboardist – has, by default, become curator of the band’s legacy. It has been his job to select which concerts are released for this new Can Live series, listening

Can heat: Michael Karoli and Irmin Schmidt

back to himself and his comrades for the first time in more than 45 years. When I ask him, over the phone from his home in rural south-east France, to dredge up any specifics about the Stuttgart show, he replies honestly: “I only remember them when there was something special happening. And in Stuttgart there was nothing special.” Nothing special? Only a night with Germany’s greatest krautrock group at the peak of their powers. For Schmidt, though, at this distance “it sounds to me more or less like music from somebody else. If it’s good, the better it is, the more distant it is. Only the bad things have still got blood sticking to them, if you know what I mean. The good

ones you can listen to without any emotional mixup. Our live appearances are so strange for some people, and so surprising, that they did maybe do more to build up the legend than the records, and I’m quite happy that we succeeded.”

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UT what was Can like in performance? Andrew Hall, co-author of The Can Book with Pascal Bussy, first saw the group at the Rainbow Theatre in north London in January 1973. He tagged along on their subsequent dates at Aylesbury, Penzance, Plymouth, Portsmouth, Chatham, Norwich and back to London at Imperial College. “There was a big difference between those gigs,” he remembers, noting that a small venue like the Garden in Penzance was less suited to Can’s long ambient build-ups and release than a middle-sized space such as the Guildhall in Plymouth. “Their Hatfield gig [in November 1975] was peppered with a few ‘Can moments’, normally centred around Holger. One was the encore following ‘Vitamin C’, during which Holger made some desperate attempts to vocalise, which rounded off the second half. Holger, Irmin and Jaki had emerged for the performance, but no sign of Michael. With an unbridled Jaki lashing at his drums and Irmin rollercoasting through the air waves, Holger screamed into his mic, ‘We are going to play LOUD!’… 30 seconds… ‘Where is our guitar player?’… 10 seconds… ‘Here he comes.’ After a further two minutes, from out of the chaos swirls Michael’s guitar, resolving into a hypnotic motif. Great ending!” Part of this encore surfaced as “Networks Of Foam”, on Can’s Lost Tapes boxset. Can’s studio albums were the product of slow, painstaking work – days spent playing in the studio, then overdubbed and edited with razorblades. It transpires that on stage the band achieved even


more dynamic extremes and deeper telepathic interplay than on record, building symphonically from their ambient intros to their signature “Godzillas” – the nickname they gave to their freak-noise meltdowns. Although they racked up hundreds of hours of performance, until now recordings of Can live have been restricted to a few dozen bootlegs, brief TV clips uploaded to YouTube, and a double CD featuring snippets from 1971–77 buried in the limited Can Box release. When you offset the few, comparatively short hours of music comprising their discography against their scores of gigs, you quickly realise how much Can we have missed out on all this time. The earliest known Can recording is a live tape. Known as Prehistoric Future, this unofficial release documents a free-form freakout Can did in 1968 at Schloss Nörvenich in Cologne, in front of a crowd of art lovers. Taking place before even Malcolm Mooney, their first vocalist, joined the group, the recording sounds like a band finding its place, looking for a reason to exist. The unbroken improvisation resembles a set by AMM, Musica Elettronica Viva or perhaps Pink Floyd in one of their interstellar interludes. There’s little hint of the monolithic grooves they would later carve out; here they were still shedding their attachments to experimental music. Because Can spent their first few years playing for small audiences, at a time when portable recording gear was not commonly used, there are very few bootlegs from the period 1968–1971. Meanwhile, 1972 – a year that marked their first tours of France and the UK, as well as their relocation to the Inner Space studio in a cinema in Weilerswist – is when the live tapes begin to surface. It’s thanks to Andrew Hall – who owns around 60 Can live tapes – that so many unofficial records of the band on tour are now preserved. He ended up cancelling many of their UK gigs himself. Concealing a Nagra cassette recorder inside a

MONSTER MOVIES The best Can live clips on YouTube

ROCKPALAST 1970

The longest continuous Can footage (85 minutes) is also the earliest. Amazing black-and-white show in a tent; newly recruited Suzuki is edgy and manic, and the band is firing on all its avant-garage cylinders.

CAN FREE CONCERT 1972

Peter Przygodda’s document of Can’s triumphal 1972 Cologne extravaganza is intercut with atmospheric Inner Space studio footage. Rockumentary meets avant-garde cinema.

BATACLAN, PARIS (POP2) 1973

The handheld cameras take you right on stage during this 21-minute French television slot, as if you’re an extra member of the band. Can at their most mystic, monotonous and mindblowing.

THE OLD GREY WHISTLE TEST 1975 From the same year as Live In Stuttgart, the four-piece Can deliver a frenetic “Vernal Equinox” for Bob Harris and the BBC cameras.

MUSIK EXTRA 3 1977

Rare German TV sighting of Can’s late lineup with bassist Rosko Gee and Holger Czukay operating a tabletop of electronic gizmos. The clips include a slightly testy backstage interview.

CAN briefcase, to bypass security, he’d stand in the auditorium and point a couple of AKG mics at the stage. Meanwhile, Holger Czukay made his own live recordings from the desk on their German dates and posted many of them over to Hall – including the surviving Stuttgart tape. Hall opened up his tape collection to Spoon Records for the Can Live series; these unauthorised live recordings have been sonically cleaned up and added to the official Can canon.

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HEN Irmin Schmidt talks about the “architecture” of a Can live set, he points to the group’s custom of playing for around two-and-a-half to three hours every night, with an intermission (and rarely a support band). Never mind if their audiences came expecting to hear album favourites – Can stuck to their principles and reinvented the music anew each night. “Every concert we started with a pure improvisation or invention,” he says. “We never started by quitting a piece. On Stuttgart, the second piece is sort of related to ‘Bel Air’, but the very first thing we played was always our reaction to the place, the public, the sound on stage, the environment. I mean, the physical and mental environment – the psychic environment… The ‘vibrations’, you would have called it at the time!” In fact, Schmidt reveals, Can had a ritual to generate the vibrations even before the band took to the stage. “Normally, nobody was allowed to join us in the last 20 minutes before going on stage. We were all alone and nobody was allowed into the dressing room. Not even Hildegard [Schmidt, Irmin’s wife and Can’s manager]! Because Hildegard would start talking about some organisational stuff, so even she was banned. Then we were sitting there, very silently making sounds, drumming on the table, and humming, or maybe playing an acoustic or electric guitar without amplification. Making music, very Holger Czukay on stage in Soest, Germany, 1970, filmed for Rockpalast

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CAN concentrated, and very relaxed, like a meditation before the concert. We did that every time, whenever it was possible. I mean, sometimes you came so late that it was panic. Nobody had the right to enter and disturb this kind of meditation.” This singleminded approach to musical purity could often confound fans. “A lot of acts, they play the old familiar tunes and get the round of applause,” says Duncan Fallowell, a long-time friend of the band. “At a Can concert, you never knew what you would hear. So there was always that… It didn’t always work. But often it worked. And often it was in a realm that neither worked or didn’t work, but was just something new.” In an early 1974 article in the NME, writer Nick Kent captured Can’s unwillingness to please the crowd. “The music itself goes nowhere at all,” he wrote after witnessing their gig at the Croydon Greyhound. “It simply establishes its own landscape and ether lets you be sucked into its vacuum or else determines to oppress you with its intangibility. The audience never seems to have much choice in the matter at a Can concert.” Kent’s ambivalence was a frequent response to Can live. Melody Maker’s Michael Watts, who attended Can’s legendary hometown Sporthalle show in Cologne in early 1972, admitted that “to hear them thundering away like a nonstop express is something of an experience, but the repetition of their open-minded act was finally a little too much for these English ears at first go. Their enthusiasm seems to work better in the edited context of an album.” Among the audience at Can’s first UK show – at University College London on April 28, 1972 – were members of Hawkwind, one of the few British bands who actively embraced the German rock sound. As United Artists labelmates, Can and Hawkwind hit it off backstage on the few dates they played together around 1972–73. “That repetitious music is what we liked,” Dave Brock enthuses. “There were parallels with what we did, when we had Robert Calvert on stage with us. I remember Damo [Suzuki] was a bit of a nutcase, shrieking away! The audiences used to take LSD and sit

And then there were five: Can with Damo Suzuki in the early 1970s

Can do: gigs were “spontaneously played but they still have a certain form,” says Irmin Schmidt

around smoking dope, so it was the ideal music for those days!” In Hawkwind tracks like “OpaLoka” or “Steppenwolf”, you can hear how they picked up Can’s rhythmic discipline and flow motion. Brock confirms their influence: “Some of the little things they used to do with the vocals – ‘Ah-ha-ha-ha-haaaa…’ – these simplistic things, very tribal sounding. We thought, ‘That sounds really great, we’ll have a go at doing that.’”

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AN presented themselves live as a horizontal string of musicians across the stage: appropriate for an ensemble that had no frontperson, even when accompanied by a vocalist. Jaki Liebezeit’s drumkit was as key to the hierarchy as Holger Czukay’s bass guitar. Even on tour, they often drove to gigs individually in their own vehicles, leaving the small but loyal road crew to transport the PA in a VW van. As well as roadie Uli Gerlach, Can’s live technician in the early ’70s, was a British former plumber and electrician called Bob Hickmott. In 1973 the crew was joined by René Tinner, who began driving heir van but ended up as their longerm sound engineer and custodian of the Can Studio. “When I joined, hey had a very good PA system, ut they were not satisfied with the ound situation on stage,” recalls inner. “So with Bob Hickmott we esigned a completely new system. He was an electronic wizard. He llected all the speakers he could nd in the studio and more or less ailed them to a wall, so there was like a wall of sound coming from the stage. We had been inspired by photographs we had seen of the Grateful Dead sound system. That meant particularly that the drums were lifted up in the mix.”

By 1975, a typical Can gig would find Tinner sitting practically on stage behind Irmin Schmidt, live-mixing the onstage sound, while yet another Brit, Peter Gilmour, handled the front-of-house desk. “We had a pretty sussed-out system,” says Tinner. “We had an intercom so we could communicate, and that produced the sound we hear on the Stuttgart tape and later shows.” In Can’s lifetime several key live events stand out. In 1969, their month-long residency at a Zurich theatre gave them the space to hone their onstage telepathic connection. Then there was the night in early 1972 at Berlin’s Technical University, when police ringed the building in the hope of making drug busts. Forbidden by law from entering university premises, they could only stand by as Can stretched out their set while stoned hippies waved their joints out of the windows. Their date at Cologne’s Sporthalle in 1972 was the band’s gift to their own city, attended by 10,000 fans – you can see extracts on a DVD released on Can Box. They tried to record the gig for a live album but were thwarted by technical problems. Likewise the tapes of their show in Edinburgh in August 1973, right after recording Future Days, also turned out unusable. It says a lot about Can’s attitude that most of their prospective vocalists were vetted by being thrown on stage. Notoriously, in 1970 they spotted Damo Suzuki busking in a Munich street and invited him to sing with them that night. He remained until late 1973. In November 1975, the American folk singer Tim Hardin guested on vocals for a couple of British dates, before leaving after scoring heroin with Karoli and getting into a fight with Czukay. Festivals, admits Schmidt, were largely avoided. “Most of the time there were too many limitations. You were limited in time. You had to be on at, say, 16.45, start playing, and at 17.35 you had to finish. That was not for us. We were too undisciplined! You were chased from the stage just as we started to get really into it.” But the night everybody connected with Can names when you ask for the most memorable live date is the huge outdoor event in Arles, south of


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France, on August 6, 1975. The all-dayer – also featuring Ash Ra Tempel, Nico and Kevin Ayers – took place in the town’s Roman amphitheatre on a balmy summer night. Schmidt: “The environment was wonderful. It was warm, there were 7,000 stoned people, so you couldn’t have it more comfortable.” Arles was probably the zenith of the Can experience: relaxed, creative, intuitive; a magical soundweave spooling from the heart of Europe. Remarkably, in the whole period 1968–77, Can only ever toured in Germany, France, the UK and Ireland. There were a handful of oneoff dates in Austria, Belgium, Switzerland and Portugal, but no visits to Italy, Scandinavia, the Netherlands or Spain. When they were offered a contract with the American branch of United Artists in late 1975, it was in the full expectation that the label would guarantee a nationwide tour, but label chief Al Teller refused to make any such promises. Outraged, Hildegard Schmidt cancelled the whole deal and Can never made it to America. What might have happened to the group if they had confronted big American audiences is one of the great what-ifs of the Can story.

ND when the lights went down? Jaki Liebezeit often went immediately to bed, Schmidt remembers. “Purely physically, he was the one who did such enormous work,” he explains. “In the Stuttgart concert, the energy he maintained for three hours, it was absolutely incredible. Micky and me usually had a glass of wine afterwards. In Britain, when you came back from a concert about midnight, there was nothing to eat. No promoter had prepared anything. In the hotel if you were lucky you could get some old sandwiches. In France, it was totally different. If it was two o’clock in the morning in a provincial town, we came to the hotel, and there was a table and there was a wonderful meal with wine and everything. Every time.” The first three Can Live releases feature three gigs netted within a window of just over two months: Brighton Sussex University from November 19, 1975, just three weeks after Stuttgart, and Cuxhaven, January 7, 1976. “The first things that struck me were Brighton and Stuttgart and Cuxhaven,” says Schmidt. “These are really long sets, so you can follow the architecture – they are spontaneously played but they still have a certain form. Most of the tapes have only one or two pieces which are good, but I didn’t want this kind of mosaic of choosing the ‘best of live’. I wanted at least half of a concert, which gives the impression of how it was when we played. Stuttgart was one of the really good ones.” Stuttgart’s Gustav-Siegle-Haus spans German 20th-century history: built in 1912, destroyed by Allied bombs in 1944, reconstructed in the mid’50s and currently a modern concert hall. It’s no wonder the space harmonised with the sounds made by Can – four sons of postwar Germany who were dedicated to reviving the magic of German music. With the prospect of the Live Series ahead, the fragments of their own past are finally being resurrected too. Can: Live In Stuttgart 1975 is released on May 28 by Mute/ Spoon Records. All Gates Open: The Story Of Can by Rob Young and Irmin Schmidt is available now from Faber; Rob’s new book, The Magic Box: Viewing Britain Through The Rectangular Window, will be published in August 2021 Preparing to summon Godzilla: rhythmic titans Czukay and Liebezeit

FÜNF ALIVE!

Fiveessentialkrautrocklivealbums AMON DÜÜL II LIVE IN LONDON UNITED ARTISTS, 1973

Recorded December 16, 1972 at Croydon Greyhound and released as a budget album, Live In London captures the Munich anarcho collective in remarkably clear stereo. This is peak Düül, rocking tight and hard on “Archangels Thunderbird” and “Soap Shop Rock”; advancing some choice Germano-wiggery on Falk-U Rogner’s synth-heavy “Improvisation” and the prog suite “Syntelman’s March Of The Roaring Seventies”. The sheer heaviness of “Eye Shaking King” and “Race From Here To Your Ears” bridges the hard rock of the Stooges andBlackSabbathwiththeRamonesypunkfuture thatstilllayoverthehorizon.

HARMONIA

LIVE 1974 GRÖNLAND, 2007

Like Can, Harmonia (Moebius, Roedelius and Michael Rother) retreated from the city to a studioplayground in rural Germany. This rare live tape from March 23, 1974 in Griessem is a beautiful example of the trio’s quietly purposeful, post-Terry Riley minimalism. It’s enticing to picture a small-town German crowd trancing out to the analogue bubble bath of warm synth loops, pulsatingelectronicbeatsandRother’sskysaw guitaron“Holta-Polta”and“UeberOttenstein”.

AGITATION FREE

LIVE ’74: AT THE CLIFFS OF RIVER RHINE GARDEN OF DELIGHTS, 1998

Krautrock’s premier jam band travelled further than Can, touring Egypt, Greece and the Mediterranean islands. Recorded in Cologne on February 2, 1974, the quintet kick off in expansive Grateful Dead style on the 15-minute “Through The Moods”. Lead guitarist Lütz Ulbrich soars upwards from tropo- to exosphere, pulling the rhythm section with him. The 10-minute “Laila” flourishes in a jazz-tempered pulse driven by Michael Günther’s Can-like repetitive bass figure.WithouttherestrictionsofanLPside,AF’s majestic,dreamypsychedeliaglidesunchained.

GURU GURU LIVE BRAIN, 1978

Like Soft Machine, Guru Guru evolved from late-’60s psych into a more abstract jazz-rock outfit. Along with Can’s Jaki Liebezeit, drummer Mani Neumeier came to rock from an earlier life in free jazz. Despite a more “professional” sound than on their early studio releases, Guru Guru lock into funky electric jazz vibes seldom heard in the krautrock canon. Roland Schaeffer’s guitar solo on “Formentera” is nothing short of epic, while on the morerelaxed“Herzflimmern”heheadsoffintoDavid Sanborn-stylesaxheroics.

STEPHEN MALKMUS & VON SPAR

EGE BAMYASI DOMINO 2021

Malkmus made no secret of Pavement’s debt to Can. With German instrumentalists Von Spar, he recorded this enjoyable facsimile of the 1972 original LP, live on a Cologne stage in 2012. It’s a pretty faithful reproduction, with Malkmus gamely filling in the blanks in Damo Suzuki’s unfathomable lyrics. Ironically, this is what the original Can never bothered to do: replay the album on stage. So this is the closest anyone’s likely to get to experiencing this material performed in real time. JUNE2021•UNCUT•91


Twenty years ago, NME travelled to New York to meet H T OK S j u i JUNE 9, 2001 HE first punch is thrown 30 seconds into The Strokes’ first NME photo session. Their five skinny, leather-clad frames are milling about on a street corner in the heart of Manhattan’s Lower East Side, when someone yells out, “Hey motherfuckers – you’re blocking the whole sidewalk.” Everyone turns round. There are three kids in hoods, obviously wired up on something, facing the band. A few seconds earlier, they randomly tried to attack a school bus driving down the street. Now they’re staring at us, so guitarist Nick Valensi opts for a spot of diplomacy. He flicks his middle finger and mutters, “Fuck you, man.” Everything happens at once. A fist swings through the air and catches him on the chest. Drummer Fabrizio Moretti and singer Julian Casablancas enter the fray immediately, quickly joined by bassist Nikolai Fraiture and guitarist Albert Hammond. There’s shoving, and stray punches fly all over the place. Fabrizio catches one square between his shoulders. People strolling down the sidewalk grind to a halt and form a ring around the scuffle. Before anyone’s had time to work out what’s happening, police sirens blare out and the NYPD hits the scene. Then the pandemonium really breaks out. Everyone starts shoving and swearing and jabbing their fingers into each other. 92•UNCUT•JUNE2021

The police pull the groups apart and, after quizzing a handful of passers-by, decide that The Strokes are the injured party. Do they want to press charges? Nick, rubbing his jaw, “Forget it. I just want to get some ice.” The mêlée breaks up, and the band head down the street. Julian turns to NME and smiles, “Welcome to New York…”

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T’S been said before, and we’re guessing it’s going to be said again: The Strokes are so New York, it hurts. They look New York (skinny ties, black leather, subway tans, that classic late-’70s punk look in full), they sound New York (The Velvet Underground, Talking Heads, Television), and they sure as hell act New York (when we ask Nick whether they get into many fights, he turns and grins: “Oh no, that was the first one… for about a week.” A few days after we leave, they start another one in Philadelphia.) In the five months since their first EP, “The Modern Age”, arrived at NME, they’ve become the most talked-about rock band since Oasis.

“I JUST WANT US TO ROCK YOUR FUCKING BALLS OFF”

JULIAN CASABLANCAS

That’s partly because the clipped, pulsating swagger of the first single marked it out as the best debut for about a million years, and partly because the last time they were in England, their gigs were a revelation. Here was a band that had everything – the look, the sound, the attitude, the whole thing. Since then, of course, everything’s gone crazy. They’ve been besieged by major record companies (eventually signing to Rough Trade in Britain and RCA in the rest of the world), they’ve recorded a magnificent debut album (Is This It) and it’s rumoured that Oasis want them as a support band. Now, they’re on the verge of returning to the scene of their triumph. This month sees them undertaking an alreadysold-out 16-date tour, climaxing at London’s 1,200 capacity Heaven nightclub. At the same time, they release their second single, a double A-side featuring the metronomic new-wave howl of “Hard To Explain” and the raw feedback abandon of “New York City Cops”. It’s a genius record, and one that’s destined to be their first Top 40 hit. Now it’s midnight on Friday evening, roughly 10 hours after our impromptu street brawl.


THE STROKES

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THE STROKES We’re on Second and Avenue A at The Strokes’ favourite bar – 2A. All of the band are here, apart from Julian, who, Albert explains, is suffering from “a cold”. Their Transporterraum studio is just across the road, and after a couple of beers they suggest that we head over to hear what they’ve been doing for the past two months. About 30 seconds later, we’re slipping through a graffiti-smeared door and heading down a corridor piled high with rusting radiators. Through another door and then down a steep flight of stairs to the basement. This is where The Strokes hang out. The room’s dingy, lit by a few perfunctory lights and bare apart from a red velvet sofa with an enormous split down the middle. There’s a chandelier hanging lifelessly from the ceiling, and through the glass partition we can make out three figures, one of whom is Julian, who’s got his head in his hands. Julian gets up to greet us and introduces the other two. Under a haystack of greasy curls, there’s Gordon Raphael, the band’s producer, and to his left, there’s JP. A bear of a man in his late thirties, with an unruly moust JP is the band’s “guru” (we later discover that he started off as Julian and Nick’s guitar teacher). Tonight they’re been working on finishing the album and Julian in particular looks exhausted. “I’ve been sleeping four hours a night just to finish this motherfucker,” he groans by way of explanation. “Recording sucks your soul. I swear to God, I’v never wanted a vacation as much a I do now. I mean, it’s fun… but the pressure is insurmountable.” So you’re co-producing, then? “Man, that sounds so pretentious,” he snaps back. “When I used to look at CDs as a kid, it was like, ‘Producers? Why the fuck do I give a shit who produced it?’ If you see the band have co-produced it, then you imagine them in technical situations, and who needs that? I want to picture the band coming in, recording the song once and then leaving. I like the idea of that raw efficiency.” That’s good attention to detail. “It’s anti-image. I don’t want to be some brainiac band. I just want us to do what we do: ROCK YOUR FUCKING BALLS OFF.” He slumps back into his seat, grins, and gestures for Gordon to play what they’ve completed so far. What rips out of the speakers over the next 30 minutes is incredible. This autumn, The Strokes will release a debut album on which every track is perfect. The songs they’ve recorded are raw and menacing, the perfect combination of noise and careering melodies. They’ve made a record which sounds like it could only have come from the city where they live. It’s got that tightly strung mania about it and, as far as Julian is concerned, that’s no accident. “Look,” he says, sucking on a cigarette, “we don’t sit in the meeting room and say, ‘Let’s do John this New York sound.’ Little by Casablancas, 1988 little, though, I’ve realised that 94 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

Live at The Vanderbilt, NYC, November 29, 2001, and right, backstage beers

the music you make is totally influenced by your surroundings. The tension in New York definitely translates into what we’re doing. “I mean, I love New York. The only thing is, when you’re here, you constantly feel like you’ve got to get out. Human evolution didn’t mean for people to be in a city like this all the time. You get so fucking aggressive about everything. You want to fight all the time, because you’re so pissed off with people living on top of you. That’s what happened when we were walking around earlier. We got into a fucking street fight. “New York right now reminds me of how it was about eight years ago, in the early-’90s. There was that same kind of tension in the streets then as well. New York is meant to be cleaned up but it’s getting tenser again. Lately, when I’m walking around the street, I really feel it.” He might be right. Eight years of strict ‘zero tolerance’ under Mayor Rudolph Giuliani might have temporarily altered the complexion of the city but right now you can eel it swinging back to the brash and sleazy place it always was under the urface. It’s surely no oincidence that the most popular T-shirt design of the oment reads, “Fuck you, ou fucking fuck”, while utrageously sick magazines ke Vice (Julian: “I love that magazine. They did a feature on hat people look like on drugs.

My friend was in it on hash and his wife on heroin. That was pretty cool. People we know in Vice, all fucked-up and strung out.”) are becoming more popular. New York’s reverting to type, and The Strokes are just the most obvious outward sign of it. Right now, though, the band are checking their watches. Tomorrow, they’re playing a gig in Boston – a five-hour drive up the East Coast. It’s 3am, so we bid them goodnight and promise to be waiting for them outside their hotel the next morning. Julian yawns, and turns back to the mixing desk.

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T’S hardly surprising that The Strokes have got the New York thing covered when three of them were born and bred there, and a fourth, Fabrizio, moved here from Rio De Janeiro soon after his birth. Only Albert hasn’t got the city in his blood. He’s from LA and relocated here in September 1998. At the heart of the band’s New York state of mind, though, is frontman Julian Casablancas. He writes the songs and supplies the attitude, something he may well have inherited from his father. That’s John Casablancas, the man who founded the pre-eminent Elite modelling agency back in 1971 and who quit in February last year, spewing vitriol about models in general and Naomi Campbell and Heidi Klum in particular (memorably describing the latter as “talentless German sausage”). Julian doesn’t talk about him much, and you get the impression they aren’t particularly close. When asked whether his father


There were only six people there but Julian, stricken with nerves, still puked just before he went onstage. From there, their progress was steady but not spectacular – only gaining Strokes manager real momentum when they Ryan Gentles, started playing a downtown 2003 club called the Mercury Lounge (New York’s equivalent to London’s Camden Monarch) in the autumn of 2000. There they acquired a new manager (Ryan Gentles) who also happened to be the club’s booking agent. He began sending their demo out to record companies. That’s how Geoff Travis at Rough Trade got to hear it. He agreed to put it out, The Strokes came over to England and things just went off the scale. When they got back to America, the music industry was ready to pounce. A year ago they’d been playing to 50 people. Now A&R execs were rumoured to be offering seven-figure cheques. When we get to Boston, eight gruelling hours after we left New York City, everyone piles into a bar around the corner from tonight’s venue

“BELIEVE WHAT PEOPLE WRITE ABOUT YOU AND YOU START TO SUCK” NICK VALENSI

(the evocatively named TT: The Bear’s Place), and NME asks what the reaction to the band’s success has been like in New York. “Our friends have all been pretty cool,” nods Julian, nursing a neat (medicinal) whisky. “And people who don’t know us? Well, it’s amazing how jealous they are. We walk into places and people say, ‘Yeah, we’ve heard of The Strokes, they’re a bunch of fucking assholes.’ They’ll say it to your face and then they’ll want to hang out with you. Two days later, they’ll be round asking to hear the album. Fucking dipshits.” “I was sitting in a bar the other day,” adds Nick, “and some girl said to me, ‘Do people actually come to your shows or is it just people from magazines?’ That was pretty funny.” It’s certainly true that magazines have lost their minds for The Strokes. Not just NME but style mags, fashion mags, guitar mags, everyone. Julian: “It’s just the way we fucking dress, man. I remember having this conversation with Nick one day soon after we started playing shows, but it didn’t feel right. So Nick said, ‘What’s your problem? Just dress every day like you’re going to play a show.’ That became my motto. I get funny looks if I’m in a weird neighbourhood, but so what?” You’re sex symbols in Britain now, too. “Yeah,” smiles Nick, a man fully aware of his own good looks. “Well, what people don’t realise is that we’re all homosexuals.” “That’s a joke, man,” laughs Julian. “It’s funny, though, because we really like girls, it’s almost as if we like each other better. We’ll go get laid, but JUNE 2021 • UNCUT •95

SNAPSHOT-PHOTOGRAPHY/ULLSTEINBILDVIAGETTY IMAGES

was responsible for getting The Strokes played on the catwalks of Europe, Julian just shrugs and says, “I doubt it.” Whatever their relationship, there’s no doubt that Julian enjoyed a nomadic adolescence. At 13, he was packed off to L’Institut Le Rosey in Switzerland, a private international school whose website warns of its “clear code of discipline”. As 11 of us squeeze into The Strokes’ tiny van and prepare to crawl our way out of Manhattan, Julian recalls his time there with disgust. “It was just this snobby school. My dad had gone there and I was fucking up in school and for some reason they thought going to Switzerland would help me. It was a bad experience – even if I did meet Albert there.” What was so bad about it? “It was just terrible,” he reiterates. “I was punished all the time. I had to wake up at six in the morning to jog around the school. I’d get caught for smoking or whatever. It sucked. There were a lot of Turkish people there. They were nice but you know… they all wore Versace jeans. It was the biggest culture shock of my life.” Albert was there for six months, Julian for two years. It wasn’t until he got back and started attending the Dwight School on Manhattan’s Upper West Side that his musical interests started to take shape. There, he met Nick and his friend Fabrizio, and later, Nikolai. Gradually, The Strokes drifted into existence. They played their first gig in front of 15 girls at a party thrown by Nick’s older sister in 1996. But it wasn’t until Albert arrived in autumn ’98 that things started to get serious. They spent six months locked away in a rehearsal studio in the Hell’s Kitchen district of Manhattan, until they were ready to play their first public gig, at a club called Spiral, on September 14 1999.


STROKE OF GENIUS

THE STROKES

I

The Strokes’ Is This It

NME AUGUST 25, 2001

Backstage at The Fillmore, San Francisco, October 16, 2001

we won’t hang out with the girl and be like, ‘Oh, I love you’, we’ll go straight back to the band.” He pauses. “I’m kidding, by the way… Actually, I’m totally not.” “That’s so true,” nods a beaming Fabrizio. “Sorry to bang on about Behind The Music,” continues Julian, “but the one thing I have about so many bands is that when you see them on that show, you find out they didn’t get along. Even The Beatles hated each others’ guts. We work hard at getting along. We want to have fun and we want to be with each other much more than having fame and all the rest of that fucking bullshit.” Stop it, you’re making me tearful. “Fuck you, man,” screeches Julian. “This is for the mushy part of your article,” says Nick sweetly.

“IF WE DON’T GET BETTER, I DON’T WANT TO DO THIS ANY MORE” JULIAN CASABLANCAS “It’s no surprise that Sting’s just come on the radio,” grins Fabrizio. Julian: “It’s totally fucking fitting. Now let’s carry this on later. Aren’t we meant to be onstage?”

ANTHONY PIDGEON/REDFERNS

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ORTY-five minutes later, it’s 11:30 and The Strokes stroll onto a sparsely lit stage to survey a 400-capacity audience. Julian coughs into the microphone and turns his back, Fabrizio starts to pound his drumkit and the band career into a song called “Take It Or Leave It”. It’s amazing. Nick stands stage left, nose in the air, lips fixed in a pout, maniacally propelling the song forward, while Albert stands stage right sparking off his every move. Centre stage, Julian staggers about, clutching his leather jacket and stumbling over effects pedals. After four chaotic minutes everything suddenly shudders to a halt. 96•UNCUT•JUNE2021

There’s the tiniest of pauses and then deafening applause fills the venue. The rest of the gig is equally spectacular. The Strokes are loud, thrilling and totally charismatic throughout. By the time they come off 45 minutes later, the place is so hot that the drumsticks are sliding out of Fabrizio’s hands and girls are screaming deliriously, whether they’re with their boyfriends or not. The band play their final note, fling their instruments to the floor and stride off into the darkness. They look and sound like the band who are going to save rock. “That’s fucking ridiculous,” snaps Julian later on when we’re back at the hotel. “I’ll tell you straight up, there are a lot of much better bands than us. New bands? I’m not talking about that shit but there’s a lot of good music out there. A lot of this hype is bullshit. I think we’re pretty good and I want us to be successful. That’s about it.” It’s been said that you’re the new Oasis. Julian: “That’s great, but we have to keep moving up. We have to get better songs. Just get better full stop. If we believe too much of this shit, we’re going to crash and burn so fucking fast. We need new songs. It’s a short life, man, you’ve got to pack it in.” “As soon as you start believing what people are writing about you,” agrees Nick, “that’s when you start to suck.” “I’m not full of shit,” rasps Julian, stabbing his finger in NME’s general direction. “If we don’t get better, I don’t want to do this any more. I don’t want to just hit some kind of fame. I just want to do something good. That’s the only way I’m going to be satisfied.” Are you satisfied with what you’re doing now? “No way,” he concludes. “Hell, no, baby. People might think it’s perfect right now but next week, they’re going to want to hear something else. I want to provide that something else.” He lights another cigarette and stares off into the distance. He needn’t worry. At this exact moment, The Strokes really are perfect. Without doubt the greatest band to emerge from New York for two decades. That they’re intent on getting better is a frightening prospect. By the time you read this, they’ll be back in Britain for one of the most fantastic tours you’ve seen in your life. A band like The Strokes only comes along once in a lifetime. You should be grateful that they’ve come along in yours.

T’S the best kind of New York story. One that mixes impossible glamour with brief excursions to the wild side. That starts in a basement, and ends in huge acclaim. That features good-looking participants in a potentially dirty business. A story too good to be true to be the real thing, surely? Like the title seems to ask – is this really it? Oh, it is. If ‘it’ is 11 songs and 37 minutes of concise and elegant rock music by five young men. If ‘it’ is a truly great statement of intent, one of the all-too-infrequent calls to arms that guitar music can provide, one of the best and most characterful debut albums of the past 20 years. If ‘it’ is touching, soulful, funny, tuneful and well-written songs played by people in great clothing, then yes, it is. It is ‘it’. Simply put, The Strokes have every quality rock’n’roll requires from its finest exponents and Is This It is where they come together. Some are obvious: the drawling narratives of singer Julian Casablancas, the clanging of Albert Hammond Jr and Nick Valensi’s guitars, the uncomplicated recording, bassist Nikolai Fraiture and drummer Fabrizio Moretti joyfully getting on with the business of making music.

Morethanthat,though(andlike,say,Definitely Maybe by Oasis before it), Is This It is a document of a group seizing a moment and making it their own. Like any indispensable invention, you’re forced to wonder how you got by without it. This album is filled with examples of The Strokes’ indispensability. That these songs for the most part represent material that the band have played since their inception tells you a lot about its quality: the band were inspired from the beginning, and that spontaneity has been captured. It’s a mood that is the backbone to the songs, too – they represent an account of life (their lives, anyone’s lives) as hectic and full of incident as their own career. If there’s a theme, then it’s of inarticulacy (“I say the right thing/But act the wrong way”, in “Hard To Explain”, is one lyric that sets the tone). But the songs themselves are perfectly articulate. They’re in the right time, in the right place, and they provide as many epiphanies as they’re trying to describe. There’s nothing unnecessary here. Is This It is an album by a band that knows its strengths, knows its collective mind. It doesn’t sound like one songwriter and some other donkeys. The highest compliment you can pay this record is that it sounds like The Strokes, sounds as good as that whole concept. It’s a New York story, a Los Angeles story, a London story. Anyone and everyone’s story. JOHN ROBINSON


Food For Thought

by UB40

MIRRORPIX/GETTY IMAGES; DAVE J. HOGAN/GETTY IMAGES

The Brum band’s first single cloaked tough, conscience-pricking lyrics in lilting pop-reggae: “It should have been the anthem for Live Aid…”

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RITTEN in a cellar, recorded in a bedsit and released by a start-up independent label run from a record shop in Dudley, the debut single by Brummie reggae quartet UB40 was an instant success story that surprised everyone except the band. “We were cocky,” says drummer Jimmy Brown. “If we didn’t think we might have some success we wouldn’t have bothered!” “Food For Thought” rose to No 4 in the spring of 1980, the first of more than 50 hit singles. Befitting a group unusually adept at balancing light and shade, it proved an ambiguous calling card: a bleak protest song with pop nous that has since become an anthem at their local football club, Birmingham City FC. “The horn line is

played at City every time a goal is scored,” says Robin Campbell. “The whole crowd sing it!” Brian Travers’ woozy saxophone line provides an accessible hook, but “Food For Thought” has depth. The infectious steppers beat, biting synth break and lilting vocal melody soften the blow of a brutally unsparing lyric. Originally called “The Christmas Song” – “It was supposed to be a Christmas single, but it didn’t get released until April!” says Astro – “Food For Thought” predated “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” by almost five years, tackling similar themes with considerably greater reserves of poetic fury and bleak realism. “It should have been the anthem for Live Aid,” says singer Ali Campbell. “‘Skin and bones is creeping, doesn’t know he’s dead/Ancient eyes are peeping, from his

“We discovered politics at school as a gang”: UB40, July 19, 1980

KEY PLAYERS

Ali Campbell: Vocals, guitar, co-writer

Robin Campbell: Guitars, vocals, co-writer

Jimmy Brown: Drums, co-writer

Earl Falconer: Bass, co-writer

Astro: Vocals

infant head’. Fucking hell! ‘Waiting for the manna, coming from the west’. It was a few years ahead of its time.” “We tend to make happy music and marry that to pretty dark lyrics,” says Robin Campbell, Ali’s older brother, who reveals that the lyric was written with considerable help from their father, the Scottish folk singer-songwriter – and staunch communist – Ian Campbell. “The idea was an anti-Christmas song, about hypocrisy.” Released as a double-A-side single, the band initially regarded “King” – which examined the legacy of Martin Luther King through a world-weary lens – as the stronger track, but “Food For Thought” cut through more effectively on radio. “Of course, the lyric completely went over the heads of every DJ in Britain,” says Ali Campbell with a laugh. “DJs are pretty thick, aren’t they?” Estranged since the great schism of 2008, when Ali Campbell left the band after a series of business disputes, there are now two UB40s in existence: one led by Ali and Astro, and another featuring the rest of the original band, plus some new faces. “Food For Thought” offers eloquent testament to a time when they stood united in common cause. GRAEME THOMSON JOHN EARL FALCONER [bass/cowriter]: Me and Brian Travers had two flats next to one another, and we used to rehearse in the space underneath. We converted the cellar into a rehearsal room and we just used to jam all day, then we’d add lyrics. It was a really exciting time. We were still learning to play. We were all on the dole, and we had the time. We took it quite seriously. We used to start at 10am and finish at five o’clock. JIMMY BROWN [drums, co-writer]: We were disciplined about rehearsals. We loved what we were doing, even if there


was the usual immature antagonism between members. It was a struggle sometimes, but that struggle was the tension that pulled everything together. We did everything instinctively, by argument and trying things out. It meant listening to our favourite records and picking them apart. We knew what we wanted to hear, even if we didn’t know how to do it. It was chemistry, and we created something bigger than the sum of its parts. ALI CAMPBELL [vocals, guitar, cowriter]: The album that most influenced us down in the cellar learning our craft was Reggae Gi Dem Dub by Big Youth. That was our go-to album. At the time we called ourselves a jazz-dub-reggae band! We were trying our hardest to make British reggae. We didn’t sound like a Jamaican reggae band, and we didn’t want to, really. We weren’t Rastafarians, so we didn’t have that message to push, and we didn’t sing in patois. We were young British kids. BROWN: We discovered politics at school as a gang. It spread from Ian Campbell, who was a big influence on his boys, but also a lot of younger teachers at the time. One put The Communist Manifesto in my hand. My old man was a factory worker, a Labour and a union man. That was an influence as well. It sparks you off. We thought we might as well write about things you’d talk about when you

“We ended up with an MI5 file on us, bugging our phones, as if we were revolutionaries!” JIMMY BROWN were sitting around having a spliff with your mates. We were a political bunch of people, and we took quite a hard line. I don’t think we realised quite how many feathers we were ruffling. We ended up with an MI5 file on us, bugging our phones, as if we were revolutionaries! ALI: We were serious about our lyrics, we wanted to use our platform. We set a high standard by starting out with “Food For Thought”. I think it’s the best lyric we ever had. ASTRO [vocals]: The song was basically about the hypocrisy of celebrating Christmas in the west. We’re eating and drinking more than we need, there’s so much surplus food, while millions of Africans were dying of hunger due to famine and third-world poverty. It was shocking. Politicians putting politics before people, leaving them to rely on charitable institutions. This was pre-Band Aid.

ALI: The lyric was actually gifted to us by my father, Ian Campbell. He was a great writer, but I didn’t get on with him. When I told him we’d started a reggae band he said, “But you can’t play any instruments!” He basically told us to fuck off. Despite my enthusiasm, he didn’t want to know. Robin knew I wouldn’t want anything to do with my dad’s lyrics, so Robin basically came in with “Food For Thought”. I thought it was the best thing I’d ever read. It was only after we’d released it that Robin admitted my father had gifted it to him. ROBIN CAMPBELL: My father was a songwriter of some note. He used to talk about the velvet glove: seduce with the music and knock them out with the lyrics. With “Food For Thought”, he very definitely helped me. There’s no doubt that he was influential on that. ALI: “Madam Medusa” was one of my dad’s lyrics, too. ROBIN: “Madam Medusa” was a song he gave to me because he thought our lyrics weren’t good enough. He said, “Here you are, here’s one about Maggie!” To be honest, when we were writing our first sets of lyrics, all he did was criticise them, so we tended to not ask his opinion. None of it was good enough for him, and we were playing the wrong music… JUNE 2021 • UNCUT •99


MICHAELPUTLAND/GETTYIMAGES

Robin Campbell – and (inset) younger brother Ali – on stage with UB40 in London, September 1980

ALI: I did the melody for “Food For Thought”. The band would jam, I’d be given a set of lyrics, then it was my job to put those lyrics to the backing track. We had music coming out of our ears. We were never short of music. ROBIN: The way we’ve always done it is the band sits around and jams together and makes instrumentals. Then we come up with lyrics and marry them to the tunes we think they’ll go with. FALCONER: “Food For Thought” was quite atmospheric. It’s a strange chord sequence, and it makes it different from a lot of tunes we’ve done. The sax was really catchy, that was the hook. ROBIN: There was definitely a buzz happening in 1979. We were getting some media interest, a few local DJs championed us and record companies had approached us, but the deals they were offering were rubbish. We wanted control and a bigger piece of the pie. David Virr at Graduate offered us a 50/50 deal and we snatched his hand off. ALI: We came to the attention of a guy called Bob Lamb, who was the drummer in Steve Gibbons Band, who had supported The Who in America. To us, they were an enormous deal. ASTRO: Bob had a little bedsitter on the ground floor of a big old Victorian house. He had a bed on stilts – and under the bed he had a mixing desk and his little control room! He had a couple of four-track machines. It was so small that Norman, the percussionist, had to set up in the garden, because there wasn’t any room for his congas. On some of the songs on the first album, you can actually hear birds twittering and cars rolling by. Happy days! It was a brandnew adventure for us all.

FACT FILE Released: March 8, 1980 Written: UB40 Produced: Bob Lamb Recorded: December 1979, Home Of The Hits, Cambridge Road, Moseley Personnel: Ali Campbell (lead vocals, rhythm guitar), Robin Campbell (lead guitar, vocals), Earl Falconer (bass), Norman Hassan (percussion, congas), Astro (vocals), Jim Brown (drums), Brian Travers (tenor saxophone, melodica), Michael Virtue (keyboards) Highestchart position:UK 4

ROBIN: It was crazy. There was an open window right behind where Bob was sat with wires going out and mic’d up congas. The songs on Signing Off were the songs we’d been playing for the previous year, and we recorded them exactly as we did them live. We told Bob how we wanted it done. Bob was a musician and he had a good ear and he was prepared to do whatever he could to make us happy. He gave us free rein, really. ALI: The saxophone is completely out of tune throughout the whole album! It wasn’t our fault. It was a saxophone made for a completely different era – and Travers couldn’t get it into tune, however much he tried. It’s difficult for me to listen to [on “Food For Thought”]. I’ve always winced a little every time I hear it – the tuning is a bit off. ASTRO: When it came to mixing, it was all hands to the deck. You would man your channel on the desk. It was mayhem, with 16 arms reaching out to their faders. ALI: We had only played about a dozen shows when Chrissie Hynde

came to see us at the Rock Garden in London. The Pretenders were No 1 at the time with “Brass In Pocket”, and she invited us on their 35-date tour of the UK. We give thanks to Auntie Chrissie! ROBIN: She came backstage. We were all starstruck. She told her tour manager, “I want them, they’re coming, make it happen.” It was a massive step up, playing to thousands of people – and word spread. We knew we had to get a single out during the tour, so we hastily decided on “King” and “Food For Thought” as a double A-side. We thought “King” would be the more commercial cut, we preferred it as a song, but the radio stations all played “Food For Thought”. I think it was the horn line. It got airplay on Radio One, then by the time we finished the tour we were in the Top 10. It was a massive springboard to us. FALCONER: I liked “Food For Thought” but I liked some of our other tunes better. I didn’t think it was going to be a big hit, I was really surprised. I remember hearing it on the radio in my mum’s house, early in the morning when I went round for breakfast. It was really strange and quite magical. It affirmed that we were on our way. ASTRO: We expected it to do well, but we weren’t prepared for it to go into the Top 5 while we were still on tour. As soon as we’d finished the Pretenders tour, we rebooked the same venues and it sold out within days. We truly haven’t really looked back since. ALI: Eventually we left Graduate Records because they released Signing Off in South Africa with “Burden Of Shame” taken off. The one place we wanted that song released, because it’s about colonialism! So we sacked the label and started our own, DEP International. ROBIN: I’m still fond of “Food For Thought”; the lyric still feels powerful to me. It’s one of those tunes, like “One In Ten”, that fans demand we play. If we drop it people always complain! ALI: I love the poem, and I always enjoy singing it. BROWN: When you hear it on the radio it still sounds fresh, it doesn’t sound like anything else. I understand more now why it was a big success than I did back then. When Birmingham City score a goal they play the sax riff and the crowd sing it all together. You can’t buy that! The 2LP red vinyl reissue of Signing Off is out now on EMI/UMC. For news on UB40 featuring Ali & Astro visit: https://ub40.org. UB40 tour the UK from November 19 – December 22, tickets from www.ub40.global

TIME LINE December1978: UB40 form in Birmingham February1979: The band play their first show. They 100 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

spend the rest of the year writing and rehearsing in a cellar in Kings Heath December 1979: The first

sessions for Signing Off take place February/March 1980: UB40 tour the UK as

support to The Pretenders March 8, 1980: Taken from the album sessions, “Food For Thought” and

“King” are released as the band’s debut doubleA-side single. “Food For Thought” is picked up for radio play


Flower power: Waxahatchee’s vernal stage set

WAXAHATCHEE Kansas City, March 27

Katie Crutchfield marks the one-year anniversary of Saint Cloud with a bittersweet full-band livestream

JOHNNY EASTLUND

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HEN “Fire”, the lead single from Katie Crutchfield’s fifth album as Waxahatchee, was released way back in the beforetimes of January 2020, it had uncanny cut-through. It emerged out of new-year playlists and hype parades, and quietly, determinedly rooted its way into your head and heart, like a crocus piercing the early spring snow or a desert lilac creeping up through a crack in the sidewalk. There was something familiar in Crutchfield’s spare, keening voice – an eerie, timeless lonesomeness you might have first heard on “Catfish”, the opening track of American Weekend. Her debut album was produced in the middle of an Alabama snowstorm 10 years ago but sounded like it could easily have been recorded in riot grrrl Olympia in 1990 or post-punk Cardiff 1979, or dustbowl Oklahoma 1937, or civil war Amherst 1864… But there was a new force too, a sense of the singer reaching down into some native musical bedrock, getting in touch with the country and soul roots she had instinctively turned away from as a wilful, precociously punky teen. It augured well for Saint Cloud, her fifth album, which ended up sixth on Uncut’s Best Of 2020 list.

SETLIST 1 Oxbow 2 Can’t Do Much 3 Fire 4 Lilacs 5 The Eye 6 Hell 7 Witches 8 War 9 Arkadelphia 10 Ruby Falls 11 Saint Cloud 12 Light Of A Clear Blue Morning

Katie Crutchfield: from emo kid to the Grand Ole Opry

It should have been a commercial breakthrough except, as we know only too well, 2020 didn’t exactly go to plan. While Crutchfield should’ve been touring the record around the world, taking the songs with a new band to new audiences, she was instead holed up in Kansas City with her partner Kevin Morby, performing the occasional livestream (she dedicated shows to each of her albums last summer), gardening and trying to crack Infinite Jest. This year offers the promise of a fresh start and a chance to take Saint Cloud on the road. To mark the anniversary of its release, Crutchfield has reassembled her band (comprising Michigan alt.country melancholiacs Bonny Doon, as well as Brian and Jacki from Major Murphy) in an old hall filled with ferns and flowers, and put on her finest floral frock to play the album, in order, as they’d hoped to present it before last year’s spring was silenced.

It’s quite a transformation – from jaggedfringed emo club kid to Elizabeth Barrett Browning at the Grand Ole Opry – and emphasises the trad turn of the album. Like a few tracks on Saint Cloud, “Can’t Do Much” rambles down the gravel roads of Lucinda Williams but, live, Crutchfield seems emboldened, cruising into the turn of each verse – “In my loneliness I’m locked in a rooooooom/When you see me I’m honey on a spoooooon” – with a kind of swagger that’s Dylanesque. “Fire” remains the real high point of the set, a song so inconsolable that it rekindles the West Memphis blues again. But in this performance it doesn’t quite spark. The lambent, neoclassical space frames Crutchfield dead centre in front of her band, and with Jacki Warren picking out those dawning chords on the Rhodes piano, she’s freed up to deliver the song without any distractions whatsoever.


Perhaps it’s the lack of an audience or maybe it’s Johnny Eastlund’s languid direction and the unnaturally dead space but Crutchfield as a performer still feels slightly unnerved without a guitar to lead her into the heart of a song, and she’s reluctant to stare into the eye of the camera. Waxahatchee are on surer ground with “Lilacs” where the band really swings for the first time. As Crutchfield sings “I run it like the crop of kismet, I run it like a dilettante/I run it like I’m happy, baby, like I got everything I want”, a smile even threatens to dawn slowly across her pale face. Much of Saint Cloud was written in – and about – a newly resolved sobriety and an apparent domestic bliss, and Crutchfield is using these foundations to stake out a position

as a classic heartland American singer-songwriter. “The Eye” makes good on this claim. Lines such as “You watch me like I’m a jetstream/ A scientific cryptogram lit up behind the sunbeam” seem obviously in love with Joni Mitchell. But it wouldn’t be out of place on any of those canonical early-’70s singersongwriter albums. It might well be that Crutchfield takes things a step too far with her encore, a cover of Dolly Parton’s mighty “Light Of A Clear Blue Morning”. The band certainly don’t disgrace themselves and, as Crutchfield wearily drawls the opening lines – “It’s been a long dark night/I’ve been waiting for the morning…” – with all the ennui of a long lockdown, it’s clearly a song that has found its moment in time.

She cruises into the turn of each verse with a swagger that’s Dylanesque But when it comes to the chorus, she doesn’t seem to believe in the reality of the light of morning; there’s some rueful, hangdog tenor in her voice that hints that, like many promised easings over the past 12 months, this may be another false dawn.

As the song fades and Crutchfield and her band take their shy bows, you can’t help but look up Dolly’s early performance of the song on German TV show Der Musikladen in 1977 – there’s a small audience but the set-up is not so dissimilar to Waxahatchee’s in 2021. What’s immediately obvious, though, is that Parton’s band are electrifying in a way the cover doesn’t begin to approach – vibing off each other, challenging themselves, coaxing each other to ever greater heights. Dolly leads them with such blazing ebullience that you never question the possibility of her new day. It’s a reminder that for all the manifold achievements of Saint Cloud, Waxahatchee have a way to go to ascend to the real peaks of American song. STEPHENTROUSSÉ JUNE 2021 • UNCUT • 103

JOHNNY EASTLUND

L IVE


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Factory flooring it: Dwyer and co achieve takeoff in lockdown

OSEES Levitation Sessions II, Los Angeles, April 10 John Dwyer’s psych outlaws stage a raucous showdown in an abandoned factory

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HE late afternoon sun streams through the windows of the old industrial building in Los Angeles where John Dwyer’s OSees have set up for their latest livestream. Dwyer has selected a series of striking locations for these shows: a frontier town in the southern Californian desert or outside the Henry Miller Library in Big Sur. On this occasion he’s moved indoors, and the cavernous brick walls and concrete floor of the factory add a thundering, industrial sheen to a set crammed with springy Osees rockers like “Tidal Wave”, “Snickersnee” and “Poisoned Stones”. Songs like these have poured relentlessly out of Dwyer’s singular imagination for more than a decade, and this set finds him reaching deep into his past for a mixture of rippers, deep cuts and covers. Dwyer’s lockdown goatee, as glimpsed in their previous Levitation Session, is now teamed with a fuller moustache, 104 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

resplendent quiff and austere specs. Evidently, the factory isn’t too warm and Dwyer is wearing trousers rather than his trademark shorts, which is a bit like seeing Angus Young in jeans – but that just gives more reason to raise the temperature with a sweatily riotous performance. With keyboard player Tomas Dolas at the back, the rest of OSees stand in a solid line like an army about to assault enemy lines. There will be no holding back. 2009 single “Tidal Wave” makes for a thrilling opener, emphasising the surfy elements that can occasionally be detected beneath the unique OSees sound. The cameras swoop around with an energy that almost matches that of the band, and there’s an additional 360 camera that places the viewer right between twin drummers Dan Rincon and Paul Quattrone, from where you can scan

SETLIST 1 Tidal Wave 2 Grown In A Graveyard 3 The Dream 4 Stinking Cloud 5 Enemy Destruct 6 Poisoned Stones 7 Spider Cider 8 It Killed Mom 9 Meat Step Lively 10 Snickersnee 11 Destroyed Fortress Reappears 12 Web 13 Encrypted Bounce 14 Beat Quest ENCORE 15 Chromosome Damage 16 ST33 17 Looking For Your Door 18 SS Cygni

what’s happening in every direction. Dwyer offers outstanding work on guitar – his supercharged solo on “The Dream” is an early highlight – and employs a range of vocal styles from the neo-croon of 2011’s “Stinking Cloud” to unintelligible hardcore raging. Not that lyrics are really the point of OSees – this isn’t a band you sing along to as much as absorb the vibe and revel in the adrenalin. Dwyer has stayed busy during lockdown, releasing a few jazz-prog experimental albums under various monikers, and while rockers dominate tonight, OSees aren’t averse to long-form noodling. “Destroyed Fortress Reappears” and “Encrypted Bounce” both visit strange places, with Dwyer rotating through an array of effects pedals for the latter, while Rincon and Quattrone pound a beat that builds like a boiling kettle. By now, night has fallen and the factory is lit by floodlights. OSees sign off with an unexpected encore of four songs by San Francisco post-punks Chrome, whose penchant for sci-fi, psych and distortion aligns them neatly with Dwyer’s own tastes. As funky oddball “SS Cygni” draws to a close, the band strike up a chunky glam-rock rhythm and the cameraman takes us outside into the LA evening, where an unexpected rainfall helps wash away the virtual sweat. It’s been the most intense 90 minutes in a derelict LA factory since Reservoir Dogs. PETER WATTS Watch OSees’ session at levitationaustin.com until April 18; or there’s a limited-edition 2LP of the show with proceeds going to five LA charities


MY ROCK’N’ROLL FRIEND TRACEY THORN CANONGATE, £17

8/10

LAST CHANCE TEXACO

RICKIE LEE JONES BLACK CAT, £20

8/10

HOLLYWOOD EDEN JOEL SELVIN ANANSI, £20

7/10

G

O-BETWEENS drummer Lindy Morrison clattered into Tracey Thorn’s dressing room in March 1983, when the future Everything But The Girl star was preparing to support Orange Juice at London’s Lyceum with her first band, the Marine Girls. Eleven years Thorn’s senior, and a good deal more forthright, Morrison introduced herself with a bellow: “HAS ANYONE HERE GOT A LIPSTICK I CAN BORROW?” It was the beginning of an unlikely friendship, which Thorn has documented in all its messy details in My Rock’n’Roll Friend. A hippie radical turned punk hellion, Morrison spotted the potential in The Go-Betweens’ bookish twin songwriters, Robert Forster and Grant McLennan, when she saw an early incarnation of the band. The way Thorn tells it, Morrison proceeded to literally drum them into shape, helping to ground their wistful songs and, as Forster’s partner, inspire much of the material that graced their six 1980s albums. “Robert and Grant were cool, and she brought heat,” Thorn writes. “They were cerebral and she brought physicality.” “Two wimps and a witch” – as Morrison dubbed them – The Go-Betweens were rarely a happy band. McLennan loathed Morrison, possibly stemming from an incident soon after they met when she dropped a book he had loaned her into the bath. The drummer bridled at always having to be the adult in the room during the band’s career, as well as the drudge at the London hovel she shared with Forster and fellow Australians The Birthday Party. The brilliance of Liberty Belle And The Black Diamond Express and 16 Lovers

Lane was widely acknowledged, but the only time interviewers showed any interest in Morrison was to ask what it was like being a girl in a band. As Thorn puts it, “I’m surprised she didn’t spend the whole of the ’80s punching people.” Thorn is dismissive of the reformed version of the band that ran until McLennan’s death in 2006, and of Forster’s attempt to write the band’s history as a beautiful bromance in his 2016 memoir Grant And I. “They are a classic trio whatever anyone might say later”, she writes pointedly. It gets ugly at times – Morrison recalls that she knew Forster was falling out of love with her when she looked up during an intimate moment to find that he was “watching the tennis on TV” – but Thorn writes with real drive, illuminating the story of a woman who continues to live, in the words of The Apartments’ Peter Walsh, “EXCLUSIVELY IN CAPSLOCK”. AS she photographed Rickie Lee Jones for the cover of the August 1979 issue of Rolling Stone, Annie Leibovitz paid the “Chuck E’s In Love” sensation what she thought was a colossal compliment, saying: “You are the sexiest person I have ever photographed, next to Mick Jagger.” On the high of her life at 24, Jones felt a little nonplussed: “I remember thinking, I am way sexier than Jagger.” In her action-packed memoir Last Chance Texaco, Jones portrays herself as a teenage hippie renegade who was drawn to what she calls “the jazz side of life”. She just about survived on her wits in Los Angeles, before convincing Little Feat’s Lowell George, Dr John and – most famously – her on-off boyfriend Tom Waits of her songwriting genius. Despite being

an increasingly committed heroin user, Jones became a sudden, global success with her self-titled debut LP, and hit an artistic peak with 1981’s lovelorn Pirates. After the messy upbringing and the misadventures in the counterculture that led her to follow her muse down whatever dark side roads it took her, Jones admits that she never took stardom that seriously, writing wistfully of her peak years: “I lived like I just didn’t care. I guess I thought the money would never end.” She straightened up in due course, but hers is a thrillingly crooked tale. SENT to make their first studio recordings by amoral hustler Kim Fowley, The Mamas & The Papas were convinced by a more established mogul, Lou Adler, that they would do better under his aegis. A friend was left to phone Fowley and tell him that the future folk-rock superstars simply hadn’t turned up for their session. “Where are they?” Fowley asked. “Maybe somebody else grabbed them.” Such skulduggery abounded in the gold rush years of the LA music industry, as Joel Selvin’s entertaining history Hollywood Eden shows. With the big labels still based in New York, a bevy of small-timers – many of them former schoolmates – scratched around for hits in what was a tiny California scene, before the homegrown successes of Jan & Dean, Sandy Nelson and The Beach Boys lured the big labels, and accompanying sharp practices, westward. The beach, the freeways and the “Surf City” dream of “two girls for every boy” came to define US pop of the 1960s and beyond; Selvin delights in giving the era’s heroes and villains alike their place in the sun. JIM WIRTH JUNE 2021 • UNCUT • 105

BEN WATT

REVIEWED THIS MONTH

“She brought heat”: Lindy Morrison and (right) Tracey Thorn, Hampstead Heath, 1987


Indie black comedy, Creation’s hectic track record, female music pioneers, Greek drama and literary legends

B

LACK BEAR If you’re a fan of Parks And Recreation, or saw her feature outing Ingrid Goes West, you’ll know Aubrey Plaza as one of the best things in contemporary American comedy – and the owner of the most unnerving eyes in the business, whether they’re suggesting murderous intent or withering snarkiness. Now Lawrence Michael Levine’s indie feature Black Bear takes Plaza way out of her usual comic terrain. She plays Allison, a woman planning to work on a script, who arrives at the lakeside retreat run by couple Gabe (Christopher Abbott) and Blair (Sarah Gadon), a musician and a dancer who have seemingly given up on the city and their careers. From the outset, an air of sexual tension and possibly danger hovers over the trio, and before long, suspicions and accusations have kindled a confrontational bonfire of the egos… Which is when a second chapter takes a drastic left turn. Then, what had previously been a controlled, sombre drama – albeit with hothouse tendencies – turns into a self-reflexive nightmare farce resembling a mash-up of Robert Altman, John Cassavetes and currently ascendant psychodrama queen Josephine Decker (Shirley). After the promising build-up, it feels all the more painfully self-indulgent, but Gadon and Plaza are both terrifically watchable and, yes, that stare acquires a whole creepy new dimension.

Just like funny: Ewen Bremner as Alan McGee in Creation Stories

©2020CREATIONSTORIESLTDALLRIGHTSRESERVED

CREATION STORIES Nick Moran’s adaptation of Alan McGee’s autobiography isn’t so much memoir as aide-mémoire – all the way through, it’s a case of, “Hey, remember when this crazy thing happened? Remember when acid house exploded? Remember the story about how I accidentally discovered Oasis?” For anyone invested in the mythology of Creation’s glories, disasters and skin-of-the-teeth scrapes, the film will resound as a boisterous rerun of a generation’s communal experience.

For anyone else – who might chance upon it on Sky Movies, where it’s streaming – Creation Stories may feel a little hermetic, especially with its prevalence of label insider figures like Ed Ball and Joe Foster. The movie is pitched as the full-tilt memory rush of a chancer who lucked out despite repeatedly staring calamity in the face – and still can’t believe that it all happened. A breathless Ewen Bremner plays McGee, his history emerging amid bursts of archive footage (’70s Scotland to the sound of “Tiger Feet”), vintage TV (the Sex Pistols on Bill Grundy), old NME covers and McGee’s encounters with his signings (Oasis, scuffling for a bottom-of-the-bill slot in Glasgow, a sullen Jesus And Mary Chain, My Bloody Valentine locking him out of the studio). Moran made a creditable job of the Joe Meek story in Telstar, but here opts for a cheap and cheerful variant on 24 Hour Party People’s picaresque romp, to sometimes awkward effect. The film is something of a class-of-Trainspotting reunion (Bremner, exec producer Danny Boyle and co-writer Irvine Welsh, producing a hectic “Then this happened” script) that, perhaps

intentionally, doesn’t shake off ’90s nostalgia. It’s not without spark, though: the most bracing musical moment features the Television Personalities, while McGee’s brush with New Labour is handled with a nice queasiness. The best performance comes from Richard Jobson, muscling up to the role of Alan’s disapproving father. McGee’s spiritual gurus are here too, with an unearthly manifestation from Steven Berkoff as Aleister Crowley, while Moran himself contributes a ripe cameo as a far more sulphurous figure: Malcolm McLaren, who else? SISTERS WITH TRANSISTORS The title says it all – although some of these sonic sisters also used fiddly lengths of tape and, in the case of Pauline Oliveros, an accordion. Lisa Rovner’s doc Sisters With Transistors is a history of the women who led the revolution in electronic music, from the approachable (Suzanne Ciani, who conquered the world of American TV advertising) to the more radically challenging like Éliane Radigue, who called her works “sound propositions” rather than label them music per se. Rovner organises her account into chapters,

REVIEWED THIS MONTH BLACK BEAR

Directedby Lawrence Michael Levine Starring Aubrey Plaza, Christopher Abbott Streamingfrom April 23 Cert To be confirmed

6/10 106 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

CREATION STORIES

Directedby Nick Moran Starring Ewen Bremner, Suki Waterhouse Streamingfrom March 29 Cert 18

5/10

SISTERS WITH TRANSISTORS

Directedby Liza Rovner Streamingfrom April 23 Cert To be confirmed

8/10

APPLES

Directedby Christos Nikou Starring Aris Servetalis, Sofia Georgovassili Streamingfrom May 7 Cert To be confirmed

7/10

TRUMAN & TENNESSEE: AN INTIMATE CONVERSATION

Directed by Lisa Immordino Vreeland Streaming from April 30 Cert To be confirmed

7/10


Creation Stories is pitched as the full-tilt memory rush of a chancer who lucked out

each presenting a self-contained portrait of one key artist. The range spans from delicacy to high intensity – from theremin virtuoso Clara Rockmore, who said of her hand movements, “You cannot play air with hammers; you have to play with butterfly wings,” to Maryanne Amacher, whose music – as Kim Gordon recalls about visiting her – made her entire house vibrate. Among others featured are electronic pioneers Daphne Oram and Delia Derbyshire as well as Bebe Barron – whose work on sci-fi movie Forbidden Planet was billed as ‘Electronic Tonalities’, as the US Musicians’ Union didn’t consider it music. Taking a strongly feminist viewpoint, the film argues that if these women innovated in a DIY style, it was because they were obliged to, by virtue of their outsider status. Laurie Anderson narrates, while observations come from a range of voices, including contemporary sound explorers such as Sarah Davachi and Holly Herndon. It’s a headily informative film, mining a rich seam of archive material that vividly evokes the times and musical cultures these pioneers emerged from and kicked against. APPLES Writer-director Christos Nikou was there at the start of Greek cinema’s disconcerting ‘Weird Wave’: he assisted Yorgos Lanthimos on 2009’s Dogtooth, the film that broke the movement internationally. His own first feature, Apples, is somewhat in the lineage of that film’s skewed take on language and society but offers a gently emotive individual twist on the human condition at its most absurd and unsettling. The film starts from the premise of a pandemic – a wave of sudden, incurable amnesia. Nikou’s nameless hero (Aris Servetalis) winds up in hospital without ID, or any identifying signs beyond a fondness for apples. With his entire back story seemingly erased for good, the man

undergoes a bizarre rehabilitation programme: he’s provided with a set of taped instructions from doctors to carry out while recording his acts on Polaroids. He befriends a young woman (Sofia Georgovassili) who’s also following the programme – but we find ourselves wondering whether his mind is really that much of a blank (he does have surprisingly good recall of the lyrics of “Sealed With A Kiss”). Apples is not weird weird: the strangeness is uncanny but rarely downright outré, the exception being a fancy dress night that our hero attends in full astronaut gear. Rather, it is a matter of existential uncertainty: it’s subtly unsettling to follow a protagonist about whom we know virtually zero from start to finish. The elegant deadpan execution makes for a distinctive tone of melancholy humour, with saturnine lead Servetalis – Keatonesque stone face hidden behind a heavy beard – nicely matched with the more effusive energies of Georgovassili as his female counterpart. TRUMAN&TENNESSEE:ANINTIMATE CONVERSATION You come out of Lisa Immordino Vreeland’s documentary Truman & Tennessee thinking that literary fame was a lot classier in the 20th century. Her film depicts a time when blazingly distinctive, irreducibly challenging writers like Truman Capote and Tennessee Williams could not only be highly visible celebrities – massively photographed, widely interviewed, hot tickets on TV chat shows – but also highly enough paid to spend their lives jetting around Europe’s beauty spots. Not that ultimately it made either of these men happy, the film reveals – although it’s suggested that they weren’t exactly predisposed to happiness. Williams is heard lamenting that he never got a good review after 1961. Capote spent his last years working on a doomed novel of society gossip, posing for photoshoot after photoshoot, and becoming a beau monde fixture (discovering Studio 54, he commented, “Isn’t it too bad that Proust didn’t have something like this?”). At their height, though, they were formidable indeed – and closely linked. Drawing on their private writings, the film depicts a friendship – sometimes tender, sometimes spikily rivalrous – between two outsiders, both openly gay, both from repressive Southern backgrounds, both prone to depression and addiction. Among the choicest archive material is footage of both men interviewed separately by David Frost, who asks searching questions, prompting his subjects to be remarkably candid and self-exposing. The result is a revealing, poignant picture of two American legends, their struggles with the world and with themselves. JONATHANROMNEY

ALSO OUT... PROMISING YOUNG WOMAN

STREAMING FROM APRIL 16 Trailing controversy and Oscar nominations in its wake, Emerald Fennell’s black comedy about female revenge goes straight to Sky Movies in the UK, with Carey Mulligan as the woman testing the sexual mores of self-styled “nice guys”.

Carey Mulligan in Promising Young Woman

HOMEWARD

STREAMINGFROMAPRIL23 Crimeanroad-tripdramafrom debutdirectorNarimanAliev,in whichastudentandhisfather travelwiththebodyofalovedone killedinbattle.

SPRINGBLOSSOM

STREAMINGFROMAPRIL23 InParis,ateenagegirlembarksona besottedliaisonwithanolderman, anactor.Frenchcinemacliché?Not quite,sincethedirectorandstaris theprodigiouslytalented20-yearoldSuzanneLindon–playing “Suzanne”–whoputsanexuberant, possiblyautobiograpichalspinona familiarstory.

THOSEWHOWISHMEDEAD

STREAMINGFROMMAY17 FromWindRiverdirectorTaylor Sheridan,aneo-westernthriller aboutayoungmurderwitnesson theruninMontana.AngelinaJolie, NicholasHoultandTylerPerrystar.

SOUNDOFMETAL

STREAMINGFROMMAY17 PreviouslyreviewedinUncut, DariusMarder’ssuperbOscarnominatedfeatureemergesafter lockdowndelays,withRizAhmed superbintheroleofanoise-duo drummercopingwiththesudden onsetofdeafness.

RizAhmedin SoundOfMetal

JUNE 2021 • UNCUT • 107


Outracing their doom: New Order earn their adulation

NEW ORDER

EDUCATION ENTERTAINMENT RECREATION (LIVE AT ALEXANDRA PALACE) PICCADILLY RECORDS

8/10

Spotlight-shy Mancunians present an immaculate curation of their peerless back catalogue

WARREN JACKSON

R

ETURNING to stage at the end of this delirious, daft, diligently compendious 140-minute journey from Salford to Wood Green, via West Didsbury, Brussels, Berlin, New York, Ibiza and Los Angeles, New Order play a three-song tribute to the band they used to be. “Any Joy Division fans out there?” asks Bernard Sumner with idle northern diffidence, as if he might be asking for a light or if you saw the match last night. The screens behind him are illuminated and Kevin Cummins’ black-andwhite portrait of Ian Curtis gazes balefully out across the cavernous hall of Alexandra Palace. 108 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

As they summon the spirit of 40 years ago, through “Atmosphere”, “Decades” and the closing “Love Will Tear Us Apart”, director Mike Christie superimposes writhing video of Curtis upon the living band and there’s an uncanny glimmer. For a moment you wonder whether New Order are ready to join Frank Zappa, Whitney Houston, Michael Jackson and Buddy Holly on the lucrative hologram circuit. The more cynical would suggest that Factory founded their church on the corpse of the man, dead at 23 in his Macclesfield kitchen, and the full house in north London almost 40 years later is testament to the enduring power of their mythologies. But in truth it’s hard to think of a band who came farther from their origins, who outraced their doom and so profoundly reimagined themselves as New Order. Their peers – The Cure, the Bunnymen, Simple Minds, even U2 – might draw similarly impassioned crowds of midlife geezers, eager to

catch a glimpse of their epic teenage yearnings. But only New Order could take you on such a journey from adolescent abjection to adult abandon and beyond, to midlife regret and rueful acceptance. It begins ominously enough with an empty stage and the “Vorspiel” from Das Rheingold, from Wagner’s early drone period, eight double basses down in their lowest register, as though a pointed rejoinder to New Order’s absent bass player. You could quibble about the running order that follows – three tracks from 2015’s inessential Music Complete but only one from their finest album, Technique; no “Confusion”, no “SubCulture” and no “Thieves Like Us”, for pity’s sake. But you cannot in all honesty argue with a set that after a slow start begins coming up with “Bizarre Love Triangle” and then reaches a plateau of bliss, climaxing with “The Perfect Kiss”, “True Faith”, “Blue Monday” and “Temptation”. New boys Tom Chapman and Phil Cunningham caper about gamely, a little apologetically pulling rock-god shapes in the absence of Hooky, but for the most part Sumner, Morris and Gilbert stay in the shadows, the earnest technicians that Jonathan

Demme depicted in the video to “The Perfect Kiss” way back in 1985. Apart from a stray, “We’re havin’ a fucking great time up here” from Sumner, there’s little banter and in lieu of a half-arsed introducing-the-band moment, their names flash up on screen in austere sans-serif capitals. It’s tempting to say that the screens are the real stars of the show, compensating for the musicians’ anti-charisma with shimmering fields of geometric abstraction from the mind’s-eye of Peter Saville. But really of course it’s the music – this bittersweet existential electronic disco, filling the vast auditorium and setting a dour hall of middle-aged men dancing like teenagers. “Temptation” in particular could go on forever, an ecstatic carousel, sounding more than ever like the national anthem of an independent north. After such an ecstatic peak, the Joy Division epilogue could prove a sudden disenchanting shock, but it’s clear now how “Love Will Tear Us Apart” has grown over four decades from a song of suicidal despair to an anthem of resilience – how despite all the routine and resentment and our manifold failings, “there’s still this appeal that we’ve kept through our lives…”. It could so easily have been the band’s last word: it’s never sounded less like a full stop. Extras: 7/10. Also released on 2CD audio, 2CD audio plus the film on Blu-ray, 3LPs and a limited edition boxset featuring all formats with a book and art prints. STEPHEN TROUSSÉ


MADNESS

BEFORE WE WAS WE 8/10

Madness in 2019: (l-r) Mike Barson, Lee Thompson, Suggs, Chris Foreman,Dan Woodgateand MarkBedford

STUDIOCANAL

8/10

BlurayreleaseforBoorman’sdownbeat DaveClarkFivecross-countrystunt The studio may have wanted a Hard Day’s Night cash-in but instead debuting director John Boorman and screenwriter Peter Nichols delivered something much more melancholic, with Dave Clark’s stuntman and Barbara Ferris’s model traversing the desolate English countryside as they’re beset by squares, soldiers and swingers. For Boorman, Point Blank was only two years away. Extras:6/10.Interviews with Nichols and crew.

Before-times doc impresses on strength of story. By John Lewis JANE’S ADDICTION

REPLAY 2020 THE CODA COLLECTION 7/10

Art-rockersadaptandsurviveinpursuit ofqualitycontent Pithy profile of the unlikely art-rock survivors from Amazon Prime’s Coda Collection series. The 40-minute film features seven tracks from 2020’s live-in-studio ‘Virtual Lollapalooza’ performance, intercut with interviews with a band who seem as surprised as anyone that they’re still here after 35 years – and endearingly grateful with it. Perry Farrell, as ever, proves a winning mix of dewy-eyed punk idealism and droll self-mockery: “quality, masterful content,” is indeed one way of putting it.

MICHAELBONNER

ANDREW MUELLER

ABKCO

LIVE AT KNEBWORTH ‘76 MERCURY

SAM COOKE: LEGEND 7/10

Expanded2003doconthemanwho inventedsoul Released to coincide with One Night In Miami, a film in which Sam Cooke is a major character, this hour-long documentary follows the artist from his gospel stardom to his pop breakthrough but emphasises the constant struggles in between. Writer Peter Guralnick and director Mary Wharton examine Cooke’s identity crises alongside his many musical innovations and crossover ambitions, which only makes his untimely death seem all the more tragic. Extras: 7/10. Additional interview footage with Aretha Franklin and Cooke’s family, among others. STEPHEN DEUSNER

LYNYRD SKYNYRD 9/10

Skynyrdsoartheirhighestin Stones-throwing’76show In the words of drummer Artimus Pyle, the ’76 Knebworth festival was “the day we blew the Stones off stage” – and this thrilling remember-them-this-way film of Skynyrd’s storming set suggests it was no idle boast. A cowboy-hatted, JD-swilling Ronnie Van Zant plays the archetypal hard-riding Southern rocker, the triple-guitar attack is as hairy as it comes and “Free Bird” is simply awesome. The Stones wisely declined to follow and later took the stage after 10cc but the day had already been won. NIGEL WILLIAMSON

THE highlight of any band biography is usually the first bit: the “rags” part of the rags-to-riches saga. We want to see the band among mere mortals, struggling to learn their instruments and getting into fights with aggrieved punters at skanky pub gigs. With dramatic irony, we know that the artist will soon leave this earthly realm and ascend into the pop pantheon. This three-part documentary series spends two-and-a-half hours lingering, gloriously, on the prehistory of Madness. There are no boring details about contractual technicalities, intraband ructions or tax avoidance. Instead we get the gory details of teenage criminality, skinhead culture and the inherent violence of 1970s London. It all culminates with the 1979 release of “My Girl”, the Top 10 hit that turned the sextet into household names across every school playground in the land. This period has been mined before — in the 1981 film Take It Or Leave It; in Tim Firth’s successful 2002 musical loosely based on the band, Our House; in Suggs’ 2013 biography That Close; and in the band’s 2019 memoir Before We Was We. Sticking closely to the last of these sources, directors Bill Jones and Ben Timlett weave some excerpts from that 2019 audiobook alongside some very good interviews with the band. The problem is finding visuals to accompany it all. Episode one, which discusses the band’s teenage years of petty crime, vandalism and graffiti, is linked by some almost parodic archive footage that suggests the band grew up in the 1940s. By the second episode, we’re relying on clips from Take It Or Leave It (a low-budget biopic in which the band play themselves acting out real-life events that occurred a few years earlier). Visually, it only springs to life on the third episode, with snippets of the band appearing on Top Of The Pops, Magpie and Cheggers Plays Pop, along with archive footage of the 1979 2-Tone tour. Still, it’s a fantastic oral history. It’s essentially a voyage through a demographically “crunchy” area of north London, where the children of criminals, labourers, heroin addicts, schoolteachers and bohemian artists — all seven from broken homes — find a shared family in each other. We hear their curious influences: from Led Zeppelin and Hendrix to Ian Dury and the Sensational Alex Harvey Band; from Peter Gabriel-era Genesis to Bette Midler; from Cat Stevens to Mott The Hoople; from Max Wall to Tommy Cooper. We hear Suggs explain how he initially thought Prince Buster sounded like the Glenn Miller band; we hear Chas Smash describe himself as the band’s “Pretorian guard”, developing an aggressive onstage persona to tame the band’s thuggish followers; we hear how Mike Barson was the band’s alpha-male disciplinarian; about the nice lower-middle-class boys Woody and Bedders rubbing alongside jailbirds Lee Thompson and Chris Foreman. All human life is here. You almost don’t need visuals with a story this good. JUNE 2021 • UNCUT • 109

MARTINPARR/MAGNUMPHOTOS

CATCH US IF YOU CAN

AMC


Not Fade Away Fondly remembered this month…

!1947"2021#

H

ERBIE Hancock’s immersion in jazzfunk fusion, first heard on 1973’s Head Hunters, was partly reliant on the spontaneity and deep grooves of electric bassist Paul Jackson. The first jazz album to sell more than a million copies, its lead-off track was “Chameleon”, co-written by Jackson and featuring an infectious Afro-Cuban vamp. The song has since become a jazz standard. Jackson was a founder member of Hancock’s Headhunters band, alongside saxophonist/clarinet player Bennie Maupin, drummer Harvey Mason and percussionist Bill Summers. The ensemble, with Jackson’s good friend Mike Clark replacing Mason, proceeded to make three more albums with Hancock in the mid-’70s: Thrust (including “Spank-A-Lee”, another Jackson co-creation), Man-Child and the live Flood. Jackson’s restless style was a perfect fit for Hancock’s intuitive approach. “Paul Jackson was an unusual funk bass player, because he never liked to play the same bassline twice,so during improvised solos he responded to what the other

Synth pioneer !1937"2021#

PETER VAN BREUKELEN/REDFERNS

Initially a prime mover in the UK jazz and blues scene, bassist Malcolm Cecil became known for his pioneering work with synthbased duo Tonto’s Expanding Head Band. Stevie Wonder enlisted Cecil and bandmate Robert Margouleff to co-produce his classic run of ’70s albums, beginning with Music Of My Mind. Cecil’s many other collaborators included Gil Scott-Heron, The Isley Brothers and Quincy Jones.

Senegalese singer !1955"2021# Thione Ballago Seck rose to prominence as a member of Orchestre Baobab, joining as an 18-year-old in 1974. Versed in 110 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

guys played,” noted Hancock in his memoir, Possibilities. “I thought I’d hired a funk bassist, but as I found out later, he had actually started as an upright jazz bass player.” Raised in Oakland, California, Jackson played piano and bassoon in his youth. After his father took him to see the Miles Davis Quintet in San Francisco, he was inspired by sideman Paul Chambers to switch to bass. “I went back to my junior high music teacher and picked one up,” he told ukvibe.org. “And that’s when I found out what was happening!” He went on to study at the San Francisco Conservatory Of Music. The Headhunters recorded two albums without Hancock – Survival Of The Fittest (1975) and Straight From The Gate (1977). The former housed “God Made Me Funky”, with Jackson on lead vocals, later sampled by De La Soul, Eric B & Rakim, NWA and Nas, among others. In 1978, having also played with Santana, The Pointer Sisters, Stanley Turrentine and Sonny Rollins, Jackson cut his first solo album, Black Octopus. He moved to Japan in 1985, playing with local artists and establishing Jazz For Kids, a schools initiative that aimed to teach African-American history through music and performance. the griot tradition, Seck’s tenure coincided with the band’s rise to fame in West Africa, before he quit to concentrate on his own outfit, Raam Daam. He helped popularise mbalax, a fusion of funk, Latin, Afrobeat and traditional styles.

Procol Harum bassist !1945"2021# Initially a member of the Freddie Mack Show, bassist Alan Cartwright followed bandmate and drummer BJ Wilson into Procol Harum in 1971. He made his recording debut on the following year’s Live With The Edmonton Symphony Orchestra (the band’s biggest seller) and remained for three studio albums. He bowed out not long after 1975’s Leiber & Stoller-produced Procol’s Ninth.

Dylan cover star !1939"2021#

Jackson at the North Sea Jazz Festival in The Hague, July 11, 1998

Sally Grossman achieved immortality when she appeared on the cover of Bob Dylan’s Bringing It All Back Home, nonchalantly reclined in a red jumpsuit, holding a cigarette. A Greenwich Village fixture during the folk boom, she married Albert Grossman, Dylan’s manager, in 1964. When Albert died in 1986, Sally took over the stewardship of his Bearsville studio and label in Woodstock.

Celebrated artist and Syd flatmate

Oscar-winning documentarian !1936"2021# When We Were Kings, detailing the famous Ali-Foreman fight in Zaire, earned filmmaker Leon Gast an Oscar in 1996. Another significant work was 1977’s The Grateful Dead Movie, co-directed with Jerry Garcia, which centred on the band’s shows at Winterland in San Francisco some three years earlier. Gast also shot docs on BB King and New York City’s Latin music scene.

!1945"2021# Emblematic of Swinging London, Duggie Fields graduated from the Chelsea School Of Art in 1968, creating works that moved from minimal pop art to bold postmodernism. He famously shared a flat in Earl’s Court Square with Syd Barrett, which continued to serve as his base thereafter.

UK jazz veteran !1937"2021# Younger brother of saxophonist Bill, Len Skeat was a highly respected double-bass player in London jazz circles. He learned his trade with bandleader Ted Heath, prior to collaborating with such names as


Peggy Lee, Billy Eckstine, Lionel Hampton, Lou Rawls and Stéphane Grappelli. Skeat also recorded with Dick Morrissey and drummer Charly Antolini, plus US tenor sax player Henry “Spike” Robinson.

as second drummer in 1983, serving until the leader’s death seven years later. Peterson debuted as a bandleader in his own right on Blue Note with 1988’s V and his final LP was last year’s Onward & Upward.

Inventor of the cassette tape

Illustrator and SUSS member

!1981"2021#

H

!1926"2021# It’s no exaggeration to say that Lou Ottens revolutionised the way people heard music. As product development chief at Philips, based in the Belgian city of Hasselt, the Dutch engineer developed the first cassette tape in the early 1960s. He rose to become director of Philips Audio, then Video, and was later instrumental in the advent of the compact disc.

Krautrock champion

Heffington played with everyone from Bob Dylan, Emmylou Harris and The Jayhawks to Buddy Miller, Vic Chesnutt and Joanna Newsom. Starting out with Lone Justice in 1982, he was also a producer and talented songwriter, issuing three efforts under his own name, including 2016’s Contemporary AbstractionsIn Folk Song And Dance.

!1955"2021# A graduate of the Rhode Island School Of Design, artist and animator Gary Leib was perhaps best known as co-author of awardwinning comic book series Idiotland with Doug Allen. In 1980 he and Allen co-founded Rubber Rodeo, who issued two albums on Mercury. More recently, the keyboardist recorded three albums as part of ambient-country outfit SUSS.

!1941"2021#

Titus Andronicus co-founder

Asco-founderofTV’sBeat-Club,DJ GerhardAugustinwasakeyfigurein German music culture from the mid’60s on. He joined United Artists/ Liberty as A&R man in 1971, quickly signing Amon Düül II, Popol Vuh and Can. Augustin also produced Ike & Turner and served as the duo’s manageruntiltheyseparatedin1976.

Matt“Money”Millerwastheoriginal keyboard player in New Jersey indie rockers Titus Andronicus. He left in 2006 after a year but sang on several recordings thereafter, among them 2010’s The Monitor and 2015’s The Most Lamentable Tragedy.

Record exec and producer

Jazz Messenger !1962"2021#

!1950"2021#

Percussionist Ralph Peterson Jr joined Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers

As one of the most revered drummers in the States, Don

!DOB UNKNOWN"2021# Guitarist James Mac Gaw joined French proggers Magma in the late ’90s He retired from their live set-up in 2015 after being diagnosed with a brain tumour, but continued as a solo artist. Magma vocalist Stella Vander paid tribute by saying that, with Mac Gaw in the band, “the osmosis became perfect”.

!1921"2021# In 1940, trombonist and conductor Ethel Gabriel took a job at RCA Victor to help finance her university tuition. She remained with the company for 44 years, eventually becoming vice-president of Pop Contemporary A&R. Gabriel was also a Grammy-winning producer, overseeing gold records by Elvis Presley, Perry Como, Henry Mancini and Roger Whittaker.

!1987"2021#

Prolific drummer and songwriter

Latter-day Magma guitarist

Jazz drummer

Jazz drummer !1953"2021# Precocious drummer Duffy Jackson, son of bandleader and television host Chubby Jackson, appeared alongside Buddy Rich, Duke Ellington and Count Basie as a child. He later toured with Lena Horne and the Count Basie Orchestra, spent two years on US TV with Sammy Davis Jr and recorded with George Benson, Lionel Hampton and more.

!1936"2021#

US record exec

Buddy Deppenschmidt forged an early reputation with the Newton Thomas Trio during the ’50s, before being poached by Charlie Byrd. He played in the guitarist’s trio for three years, a tenure that included 1962’s bossa nova success Jazz Samba, backing Byrd and Stan Getz. Chet Baker, Coleman Hawkins and Mose Allison were among his other collaborators.

The breakthrough success of The Dark Side Of The Moon in America, which had been indifferent to Pink Floyd before 1973, was largely due to a vast marketing campaign devised by Capitol Records head Bhaskar Menon. He was promoted in 1978 to become chairman and CEO of EMI Music Worldwide.

!1934"2021#

ROBHUGHES

JUNE 2021 • UNCUT • 111

OLLIE MILLINGTON/REDFERNS

EARING the punky immediacy of Rocket From The Crypt changed Dan Sartain’s life. The singer and guitarist later turned up at a show and handed a tape to RFTC frontman John Reis, who was sufficiently impressed to issue 2005’s Dan Sartain Vs The Serpientes on his own Swami label. Sartain’s engagingly combustible mix of punk, rockabilly and garage blues earned him widespread notice, resulting in support slots with The Hives and The White Stripes in 2007. “Touring with The White Stripes was my Rocky Balboa moment,” Sartain later told Music Mecca. “I was a virtually unknown bar-room singer and I went the distance with the champ.” Two

years later he released a single, “Bohemian Grove”, on Jack White’s Third Man imprint. Sartain, whose cause of death has yet to be revealed, began performing in the late ’90s around Birmingham, Alabama, with hardcore outfit Plate Six. They became his backing band when he first went solo, with Sartain self-releasing 2001 debut Crimson Guard and the following year’s Romance In Stereo. Post-Swami, Sartain recorded diverse albums for One Little Indian, including 2012’s Too Tough To Live, a clear nod to the Ramones, and 2016’s synth-driven Century Plaza, which drew from his love of Suicide and Depeche Mode. “I feel like what I do isn’t so precious that it can’t be changed,” he explained to Hero magazine that year. True to his maxim, one of Sartain’s final releases was Western Hills, a covers album of wild west songs and TV themes.

Sartain at the Dot To Dot Festival in Nottingham, May 30, 2010


Email letters@uncut.co.uk. Or tweet us at twitter.com/uncutmagazine PANORAMICVU

Jonathan Richman’s musings on The Velvet Underground [May issue] were nothing short of enlightening. A fan’s insider take on rock’n’roll’s misfits was pure joy. Hendrix a more conventional player than Cale? Ace! And Doug Yule on the receiving end of some good vibes, wow. It’s like that E flat never happened. More insider pieces, please. That’s not to say your staff writers don’t kick ass. They do, on a monthly basis. Don’t stop. Simon Kennedy, Manchester Thanks, Simon! It was certainly a coup getting Jonathan involved. Now if only we could persuade him to talk about his own music… [MB]

The Velvet Underground: rock’n’roll misfits

LOVINGTHEAMBIENT

As a proud owner of all 288 issues of Uncut I would like to thank you and congratulate you all on another terrific magazine this month. A great range of articles and reviews. The Ambient Americana CD is an absolute joy to listen to – right up there (in my humble opinion!) with the original Sounds Of The New West CD from way back when. Keep up the good work (in these crazy times). Harvey Smith, Dereham, Norfolk

CHARLIE GILLETTCOLLECTION/REDFERNS

…I doubt I’ll be the first, but I’d like to thank and congratulate you on the Ambient Americana CD. The sequencing and mood is exquisite and I can imagine playing this again and again in the future. I’ve not read the accompanying article yet, but you can guarantee I will. I’m sure there’ll be some readers whose reaction to the CD will be less complimentary, but I’ll continue to subscribe while you continue to guide, educate and inform me of the great music out there. Bob Hawkins, via email …Uncut, you never cease to amaze me. I didn’t think you could surpass the excellent series of Sounds Of The New West CDs of a decade ago. Here I am, Sunday morning, listening to the latest edition – Ambient Americana. It almost makes me want to cry thinking about where we are in our lives at the moment. Hopefully we will burst through these dark clouds and this music will help get us there. I honestly don’t know how you can top this. Thank you. Alan McSweeney, Rugby 112 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021

…I’m a bit shocked with this month’s CD, Ambient Americana! I usually enjoy a couple of tracks from the off, there’s always a couple of growers and perhaps one that needs a bit of background research. But for the first time ever, I absolutely love every single track on it! Its eclectic mix has washed the musical cobwebs away – much needed in these strange times – and revitalised my musical savvy! I’m looking at 15 new albums, 12 of which are new artists to me. That is a fantastic strike rate. Good work, thanks for all you do! Tim Lee, Knaresborough …An excellent piece by Stephen Deusner, “Wide Open Skies”, accompanied by an equally superb CD covering this ever burgeoning scene which has taken root in this decade. A couple of bands that could have merited your attention,

bearing in mind the scope and vagaries of the music. Firstly, Mazzy Star, whose So Tonight That I Might See is a cosmic masterpiece full of delicate ambience and muted inertia. Secondly, the truly wonderful Galaxie 500, whose body of work attains a twanged-out soporific perfection. Moot and possibly contentious points, however, as the genre could include John Fahey, The Flatliners and Joe Ely, even our own Peter Bruntell and many, many other artists pushing back the envelope in 2021, both past and present. All in all, a fascinating and informative piece. I would expect no less from your tip-top publication. S Kneath, via email Hey, there. We’re big fans of Mazzy Starr and Galaxie 500 here, but the aim with the Ambient Americana CD was to bring together emerging artists. There is, though, a ‘roots’ of Ambient Americana CD to be compiled, I’m sure, featuring the artists you mention and a ton of others.

so your celebration of it was well timed. Thanks so much. Olly Jones, Wandsworth

…I really enjoyed the Ambient Americana CD and companion piece in this month’s edition. Many of the artists I’d discovered through your excellent reviews and I’m looking forward to exploring further the work of those I didn’t know. I’ve felt the need for ambient music more than ever this past year,

…Marvellous. Music to relax to, sleep to, groove to. Perfect lockdown music. Wallet draining, though. Brent Cunliffe, via email Thanks to all who got in touch about the Ambient Americana CD. The response has been excellent. Now do please let us know what you think of this month’s CD…

…Thanks for the Ambient Americana CD, which came free with the latest issue. I listened to it all the way through. It was 15 tracks of picking with reverb, and without tunes. You describe this ambient Americana as a “Movement”, and you can certainly see the commonality between the artists. Indeed, the tracks on the CD could easily have come from the same artist, have been tracks from the same album by that artist, or indeed be the same track. I’d like to join the ranks of those who commend you for the free CDs, and thank you for all the hassle, expense, and crushing disappointment I have escaped – but would have experienced had I made purchases on the basis of the ecstatic written reviews you provide of what is, let’s face it, distinctly average and unoriginal material. Dylan Bickerstaffe, via email


CROSSWORD

OneofthreecopiesofPaulWeller’s FatPop(Volume1)LP

THE DUNEDIN SOUND

I went from being an occasional reader to a regular subscriber during lockdown and like many of your readers have been grateful for the introduction to loads of new music I might never have heard. I lived in New Zealand in the ’90s and am always interested to hear of artists from there and note several references to the Dunedin Sound. Have you ever done a feature on this and if so can you point me in the direction of the relevant back issue if still available? If you haven’t done a feature isn’t it about time you did? Your most recent review of a rerelease of The Clean cites them as “one of the most influential indie-rock groups of all time”. Got to be worth writing about in more depth. Laurence Housden, Macclesfield

GEORGE AND THE DYLAN

Going by the disparity between your exciting cover blurb “Dylan & Harrison Together!” [April issue] and the lukewarm review inside of their 1970 session, it made me think their record companies ought to get together to curate a collection of all their collaborations, going from 1968, George’s Dylan covers during the Let It Be sessions (“Mama You Been On My Mind”), Dylan at the Concert For Bangla Desh, up to the Wilburys and Harrison’s tribute at the Dylan 30th anniversary tribute concert. I remember in the early oughts picking up a Beatles 1968 offcuts bootleg at the late great Bleeker St Records in New York and their brief co-write “I’d Have You Anytime” from George’s visit to Woodstock had a beautiful poetic simplicity that more celebrated duos like Lennon & McCartney hadn’t achieved in years, if ever. An artistic relationship and friendship that deserves a better commemoration. Stephen Conn, New Mexico

BARBER’S CUT

Amazed to see just a nine-line obituary in the May magazine for such an influential music figure as Chris Barber? I’ll give you the benefit that it was, as us old printers would say, “off stone” time, and a full appraisal of his career will follow! Grahame Rhodes, via email

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EDITOR Michael Bonner EDITOR (ONE-SHOTS) John Robinson REVIEWS EDITOR Tom Pinnock ART EDITOR Marc Jones SENIOR DESIGNER Michael Chapman PRODUCTION EDITOR Mick Meikleham SENIOR SUB EDITOR Mike Johnson PICTURE EDITOR Phil King EDITOR AT LARGE Allan Jones CONTRIBUTORS Jason Anderson, Laura

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HOW TO ENTER The letters in the shaded squares form an anagram of a song by Bob Dylan. When you’ve worked out what it is, email your answer to: competitions@uncut.co.uk. The first correct entry picked at random will win a prize. Closing date: Wednesday, May 19, 2021. This competitionisonlyopentoEuropeanresidents.

CLUESACROSS 1+9A It’s common knowledge that where we’re at is no place for Neil Young (9-5-4-2-7) 10 (See 2 down) 11 “I heard the song of a ____ who died in the gutter”, from Bob Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall” (4) 12 Louts ruined a number by REM (5) 14 A bit anxious to name a T.Rex album (4) 16 (See 20 across) 17 The Big ____, ’80s Scottish band well received on satellite broadcasts (4) 19 No trucker in any way involved on instrumental hit from 1962 (3-6) 20+16A Perhaps one singer on instrumental hit from 1979 (5-6) 21 Bootleg endured with the inclusion of Bob Marley album (6) 23 Together Nick Cave and Warren Ellis have murdered an album (7) 28 “Just a castaway, an island lost at ___”, from The Police’s “Message In A Bottle” (3) 29 “I wipe the sand off my arms, the Spanish ______”, The Foals (6) 32 (See 6 down) 33 (See 26 down) 34 Blondie album ___ To The Beat (3)

CLUESDOWN 2+10A “If you could talk to me, what news would you bring of ______ __ ___ ___”, The Moody Blues (6-2-3-3) 3 “Standing in the doorway of The Pink Flamingo, crying in the ____”, from Soft Cell’s “Say Hello, Wave Goodbye” (4) 4+14D “In the town they’re searching for

us everywhere, but we never will be found”, 1973 (4-2-3-3) 5 Men At Work’s hit tells us where they’re coming from (4-5) 6+32A Pink Floyd rang The Division Bell, but the discussions on it continue (4-7) 7 Bee Gees album, the title track is subtitled ‘City On The Black Sea’ (6) 8 Bernard Butler’s debut solo single was not a moving performance (4) 9 Royal Blood have created some storms with their new album release (8) 13 Let’s hear it again for albums by Sam Cooke, Eminem and Tangerine Dream (6) 14 (See 4 down) 15 Prog-rock band who began life in 1967 as backing band for PP Arnold (4) 18 Their biggest hit was “Into The Valley” (5) 22 The elegance of that one album from Jeff Buckley (5) 23 A Cure single to hear, although there may be a drawback (5) 24 Rex goes around LA while Frankie Goes To Hollywood (5) 25 A learner sign I’ve attached to Pearl Jam (5) 26+33A Byrds single that received radio ban in US due to drug connotation in lyrics (5-5-4) 27 Mull Historical Society album on display in the museum (2) 30 If a comeback is made for US rock band (3) 31 Their albums gave us Nu-Clear Sounds and later a Meltdown (3)

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26God,29It’sASin,31Later, 32Ear,33Eat,35Slayed

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1 Seconds Out, 2 Ukraine, HIDDEN SONG 3 Dave Edmunds, 4 Ninety, “I Can See For Miles” 5+24D Venus In Furs, 6 Sorrow, 7 Orange, 8 Harry, 12 XWORD COMPILED BY: Stab, 13 Tea, 15 Cath, 18+34A TrevorHungerford

Barton, Mark Bentley, Greg Cochrane, Leonie Cooper, Jon Dale, Stephen Dalton, Stephen Deusner, Lisa-Marie Ferla, Michael Hann, Nick Hasted, Rob Hughes, Trevor Hungerford, John Lewis, April Long, Alastair McKay, Gavin Martin, Piers Martin, Rob Mitchum, Paul Moody, Andrew Mueller, Sharon O’Connell, Michael Odell, Erin Osmon, Louis Pattison, Jonathan Romney, Bud Scoppa, Johnny Sharp, Dave Simpson, Neil Spencer, Terry Staunton, Graeme Thomson, Luke Torn, Stephen Troussé, Jaan Uhelszki, Wyndham Wallace, Peter Watts, Richard Williams, Nigel Williamson, Tyler Wilcox, Jim Wirth, Damon Wise, Rob Young COVER PHOTOGRAPH: Jerry Schatzberg/ Trunk Archive PHOTOGRAPHERS: Graham MacIndoe, Juliette Larthe, Yann Orhan, Andrew Cotterill, William Claxton, JonahFreeman & JustinLowe THANKS TO: Sam Richards, Lora Findlay, Kevin Grant TEXT AND COVERS PRINTED BY

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All content copyright BandLab UK Limited 2020, all rights reserved. While we make every effort to ensure that the factual content of UNCUT Magazine is correct, we cannot take any responsibility nor be held accountable for any factual errors printed. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or resold without the prior consent of BandLab UK Limited. UNCUT Magazine recognises all copyrights contained within this issue. Where possible, we acknowledge the copyright. JUNE 2021 • UNCUT • 113


Earl Slick

The long-serving Bowie lieutenant on the records that shaped his guitar style: “I’ve always been discovering and rediscovering blues” THE BEATLES

MEETTHEBEATLES! CAPITOL,1964 The music that first inspired me to play was all coming from England. They were taking the music that Americans paid no attention to and feeding it back to my generation – and this album was the one that got the ball rolling for me. I remember seeing The Beatles on Ed Sullivan on February 9, 1964, when the shit hit the fan for every kid everywhere. I mean, we all had short hair, but whatever little bit we had we all tried to brush it down and have a Beatle haircut the next day at school. We were putting together imaginary bands – none of us played, but we sure did not long after that.

“KNOCKONWOOD” STAX,1966 I started to listen to a lot of Memphis soul – Sam & Dave, Wilson Pickett, Otis Redding. I liked Motown, but I think the Memphis thing was different, it was less polished and produced; it leant itself more to R&B, as opposed to Motown, which I always considered R&B but with very much a pop element to it. This is when I discovered Steve Cropper – fuck, man! For American guitar players, Steve Cropper is the lynchpin. I loved “Knock On Wood”, which he co-wrote. As a matter of fact, I convinced Bowie to record it in 1974 on the David Live album – though I don’t necessarily like the way we did it… I think we did a shit version of it.

THE ROLLING STONES

DAVID BOWIE

LONDON,1964

RCA,1973

ENGLAND’SNEWESTHITMAKERS A couple of months later the Stones hit, and this is when I got deadly serious. This was their first US release, and it was basically a whole lot of covers. There was Chuck Berry, Willie Dixon, all that stuff, even a Buddy Holly song, “Not Fade Away”. I loved the guitar-playing, I could understand whatever they were doing on those records, and I just got it. It wasn’t so far out of the realm of me being able to copy it! With those early Beatles and Stones records, they went into the studio and in one or two days they recorded their live show.

“PANICINDETROIT” The first Bowie album I was aware of was Aladdin Sane, because of “Panic In Detroit”, which is the song that inspired me to buy the record. When I first met Bowie, that was the only record of his that I had – and it was because of this track having a Bo Diddley beat and Mick Ronson’s great guitar. Absolutely, Bowie had been into the same things that I had been into in the ’60s – The Pretty Things, The Yardbirds, blues. If you listen to “The Jean Genie”, that’s totally Muddy Waters. It’s been reconfigured but the roots are obvious.

CHUCK BERRY

THE ROLLING STONES

CHESS,1956

ROLLINGSTONES,1981

“ROLLOVERBEETHOVEN” The Stones hit a nerve and inspired me to go back and buy all those records they loved – Muddy Waters, Bo Diddley, Willie Dixon, all that stuff. That was the beginning of me being a guitar player, really. I already knew who Chuck Berry was – unlike a lot of the others, he’d had tons of hits when I was a kid, proper Top 40 hit records. Back then I was buying lots of singles – if you weren’t sure that you wanted to spend the big $2 for the whole album, you could get a single for 40 cents and try them out.

JEFF BECK PHOTO:CHUCK LANZA. INTERVIEW: TOM PINNOCK

EDDIE FLOYD

TRUTH EMICOLUMBIA,1968 The next thing that happened for me was offshoots from The Yardbirds, the bluesier stuff like this: Jeff Beck’s first solo record with Rod Stewart singing and Ronnie Wood playing bass, and Nicky Hopkins on piano. He took a different approach to the blues guitar than Keith Richards or Brian Jones did, so that was my next level of inspiration. My cover bands started adopting the arrangements and basic style from Truth and the follow-up, Beck-Ola. And Rod Stewart – wow! This is before he turned into what he turned into. I imagine at the time he was just happy to be able to make records. There was a whole lot of Sam Cooke in him back then.

TATTOOYOU

Over the years, a lot of times it really does come back to the Stones for me. There’s some really good stuff on this album especially. I wasn’t as inspired by the Mick Taylor period; there’s some great songs in there, but it was like there was a lead guitar player and a rhythm guitar player. But when Ronnie Wood got in the band, I got seriously back into the Stones again – it was two guitars becoming one instrument, they would weave in and out of each other. If you watch live videos of those guys, it’s amazing what they do.

LIGHTNIN’ HOPKINS

THEVERYBESTOF LIGHTNIN’HOPKINS RHINO,2000 I’ve always been discovering and rediscovering blues. As time went on, I listened to more of the acoustic Delta players like Lightnin’ Hopkins, who did electric stuff too, and Mississippi Fred McDowell. I still like to sit down with these records and study what they’re doing because, as simple as it all appears to be, it’s not! As a guitarist, Lightnin’ Hopkins’ stuff hits me differently to, say, Robert Johnson. I always preferred it, maybe because I still can’t figure out how the fuck to play the Robert Johnson stuff! I have a favourite song every once in a while – “Shotgun Blues” is my latest favourite.

Earl Slick’s Fist Full Of Devils is out on Schnitzel Records on July 2 114 • UNCUT • JUNE 2021


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