Downliners Sect - Baby What's Wrong (1964)
01/07/2022
Greetings Soundheads!
With the passing of Don Craine recently, it was sadly a time to think that he probably was the last of the great charismatic eccentrics of the blues invasion of the early 60’s.
With his ever present Deerstalker hat and a savage riffage that could only be matched by fellow blues sonic maestro Dick Taylor of The Pretty Things, Craine laid a raw lineage that went right up to his passing.
The Sect never really gripped the public’s imagination like The Yardbirds or The Pretties.
They were probably closer to the punks that lived in garages in the US and had a rough and readiness that was never corralled to a bit of a buff and polish up.
And that raw edge carried on.
I’ve always said that they were underrated and their puckish charm perhaps never truly won the day for the great and the good.
But like The Artwoods, they ran riot in the clubs to those that knew of the dirty magic.
Don, for the freakbeat punks, you were one of the best.
Shimmy and shake
RH X
Townes Van Zandt - Waiting 'Round To Die (1968)
24/06/2022
Hola Amigos,
So here we have a game changer of a single.
From the ever broken heart of Mr Townes Van Zandt.
This isn’t Flying Burrito Brothers or Gram Parsons game changing, it’s lyrically game changing and stylistically game changing.
I love Parsons and the Burritos but Gram had still one foot in the past, which is absolutely no bad thing at all. Country owes a lot to Gram for breaking new grounds.
But country owes way way more to TVZ for digging into the soul and not being afraid of bearing it.
This isn’t tears in yer beer, lost love of a good / bad woman country – I have no wish to sound sexist here, so don’t take offence, there were way more bad men/assholes ( ahem, er… George Jones ) who left the broken hearted women behind, it is purely contextual noting – this is on another plain of game changing.
This dives much deeper and as Townes would do for the rest of his road weary life, the touch of frivolity or the odd rhinestone twinkle of most country is entirely absent. None of the “oh well” hokey charm of Willie or Waylon is at all present.
This is darker than night.
Van Zandt was a bad ass, but not in the outlaw vein of messrs Nelson and Jennings.
And certainly not in the way of the wannabe multi platinum “bad asses” that basically make country pop.
Like fellow road travellers such as Guy Clark, the heat and dust and bleak tumbleweed strewn streets of heartache ride strong in Townes’ heart.
Indeed, Willie ( who legit was a great songwriter – Ray Price, Johnny Paycheck and Patsy Cline took up his songs very early on – before becoming a mainstream artist ) picked this up for himself for his own version, but it’s not a patch on this heart-ringer.
But indeed, darkness followed Townes around like a black dog lost on the highway, he dug deep and the pain worked its way out.
Another artist whose acclaim really didn’t kick in until a lot later, but somehow, Van Zandt typically frittered it away, not cast with those rhinestones in his eyes.
An honesty, however bleak and tragic, purveyed throughout.
He never shook off his demons.
I strongly recommend two excellent documentaries if this tickles your fancy – Heartworn Highways, which feature TVT ( very high and drunk ) and Guy Clark, a very young Steve Earle et al and Van Zandt’s own doc Be Here To Love Me, which can only be matched by wilful heartbreak with the equally excellent doc on another lyrical genius, Mr Gene Clark.
I said last week that there would degenerate behaviour and TVZ was one of the leaders.
He went for everything and took them to limits that would paralyse elephants.
In no terms is that glorifying it, just sayin’.
Like many of the country outlaws and troubadours, the abuse often got the better of ‘em.
So it’s a bit of a change of pace for me this week, and I know it’s not for cutting rugs, but I strongly recommend any of the early TVZ albums with 100% certified tomato freshness.
Have major weekends y’all and if you’re either boiling or soaking wet in a tent at Glastonbury… I don’t give a shit, you asked for it.
Love
RH xx
“Boy, these conservatives are really something, aren’t they? They’re all in favor of the unborn. They will do anything for the unborn. But once you’re born, you’re on your own. Pro-life conservatives are obsessed with the fetus from conception to nine months. After that, they don’t want to know about you. They don’t want to hear from you. No nothing. No neonatal care, no day care, no head start, no school lunch, no food stamps, no welfare, no nothing. If you’re preborn, you’re fine; if you’re preschool, you’re fucked.”
– George Carlin 1996
1996… Carlin, as ever, on point
Caleb - Baby Your Phrasing Is Bad (1967)
17/06/2022
Hello Hello Hello
So here you have probably one of the most PHASATRONICHAZEADELICMINDABENDINSTRATOSPHERICPSYCHDOWN 7” singles to come out of the UK from the freakadelic era.
Caleb is Caleb Quaye, one of the foremost session guitarists who went on to different roads – that’s a bit for down the page in a min.
He’s also Finlay’s older stepbrother, but I’m sure he’s as embarrassed about that association with that dickhead as I am even mentioning it.
It’s a complete one-off, as are many of those indulgent mind expanding times and it won’t surprise you to hear me say that it was a complete stiffer.
You’re probably detecting a pattern here after a lot of weeks, that is often the case with some of my favourite musics.
This was coupled with the equally glorious “ Woman of Distinction “ on the B – Side, but that takes it foot off the phase accelerator and goes down a quirky, almost countryesque path.
If you dig this, you beautiful mamas and papas, I suggest you search for that.
Now, legend has it that the reason this is so bongofurious on the phasing, is that the red glittery box of psych had just been delivered to the studio and it was up to Caleb to put it thru its paces.
Fuck me, he succeeded.
This is in Mono, can you only imagine the mindmelt if it was SSSSTTTEEEEREEEEO?
Amongst the star children present to lay this mother down was a certain Reg Dwight.
We all know Reg now as Elton, but back then he was just a jobbing piano slammer with his stubby little sausages the rest of us call fingers, and minus the transplanted rug.
Anyway, it didn’t hold Caleb back, and his sorrowful tale of not understanding his baby’s phrasing reeks of acid and goes down a road that many didn’t come back from… man.
He survived to promptly leave the psych behind and play often with his good friend Reg for a good number of years.
I’m not sure if they fell out ( like I give a fuck ) but he then went on to Hall and Oates!
Nothing he has done since has even touched the sides of this freakbeat glory but he is regarded as a sterling axe grinder.
Fair Play Sir!
Christ and God got in the way at some point and he’s now practising the sky fairy language somewhere in the US.
Which is rather disingenuous of me, but I’m not one seeing the light lord, maybe that’s for another time… I’d certainly make more money ripping off the gullible with a fleet of rather tasty muscle cars behind me.
Ho hum
Have great weekends you wonderful people and same time, same bat channel next week – it’s about time I threw in a country toon, so maybe we’ll go there.
Trust me, it’ll be something that’s made by someone equally degenerate, probably worse actually.
Far Out Man, Far Fucking Out!
RH X
The Rolling Stones - Jumpin' Jack Flash / Child of the Moon (1968)
10/06/2022
Hola mis amigos
Indulge me this week with a treat, better than a birthday cake.
Ask me what my favourite single of all time would be and you’ll get shot in the eyes quickly with this baby.
I consider this to be THE GREATEST ROCK AND ROLL SINGLE OF ALL TIME.
Bold statement of course, and I’m sure many would disagree, but for A & B Side glory, this ‘un floats my boat in the moat rather considerably over other delectations any minute of the day.
I was born in a crossfire hurricane…
Pound for pound, the second this kicks in, I can’t think of anything that draws you in so instantly.
This is that very moment when the Stones go from being awesomely great to stratospheric.
The stars align and that absolute peak period begins.
That distinctive acoustic guitar intro, that snap of drums from dear ol’ Charlie, then the switch of Keef’s open G tuning and rumblin’ bass and we’re off to the races.
It’s not easy to explain what that does to my sinapses, but it gets me every fucking time. I could honestly play it all day and not have one instance of boredom.
The charts were interesting, music had really opened up post psychedelia in 1968, but this reset the clocks as far as I’m concerned.
Dangerous as fuck.
Then, you have the comedown on the B side.
Whereas Jacky boy couldn’t have fitted on Their Satanic Majesties, Child Of The Moon could have.
It keeps the swirl of the better tracks on that disappointing album – yes, I’ll say it’s better than some say, but it’s still not that great.
For a complete 7” single, it’s Keef warming up, searching and looking for “that sound” but still trapped in the deep orange ruffles of psychedelia.
He definitely finds it and that A side train of riffola comes in on platform No.1, it’s a flicknife in the alleyway, robbing you of your £.s.d
The B side kind of gives it back or let’s you keep the change at least.
So there you have it.
You all now know of my fave 7” of all time.
Of course it’s personal, but that’s what it’s all about in the first place
I expect you all to drive home the margaritas and get on down
Outtasight
RH X
Gene Chandler - I'm Just A Fool For You (1966)
03/06/2022
Good Day to you o’ heads of the sound,
We gots the mighty Gene Chandler to slow roll us thru the rest of the day.
If you’re in the UK and you have a deep loathing for all things flag shagging and the carbuncles of a society that lives only for servitude and an idealism that belongs to centuries ago, the royalty… you have my sympathies.
Street parties be damned!
Hopefully the last ever celebration of an age that belongs nowhere in this century.
That aside…
Gene has a voice that can melt your heart from a mile away.
Beloved of the Northern Soul scene, he’s probably the greatest vocalist that never made the Motown.
Chi-town’s (Chicago) greatest kept secret in many ways and great friend of Curtis Mayfield, who wrote and produced many a Chandler side.
This in a roundabout way, predates the classic Philly sound by a good few years, maybe less glossy, but the parts are in the right place.
And also, he’s the the man who I think has a version of There Was A Time that kicks the godfather of souls version by a country mile… but let’s not get into that right now.
Grab yo lady or man and bring in the sunshine with this wonder wax.
Love to all that need it,
RH x