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You Can’t Please All The People All The Time

2013-06-19T15:19:41+01:00

It’s been quite the month for live gigs in my hometown of Glasgow. Last week two legends of the music world – The Who and Neil Young – touched down on the city airport’s sweltering tarmac (on what was a week of glorious sunshine – that’s yer summer for another year, folks) to show the young bucks how it’s done. And this week – as deified in my previous blog – Springsteen played Hampden Park. Since I’m writing this blog on Monday, the day before he plays, I obviously can’t submit a full review as I haven’t yet been to the show. But that won’t stop me submitting a short one: it was AWESOME. He opened with a full on band version/stripped back of a classic/new song! He jumped in to the crowd/pulled some audience members on stage! He played for over 3 hours/6 hours!* (*delete where applicable).

Whatever I happen to think of the gig when I finally manage push my way through the throng of Boss devotees and take a seat (yes, a seat!) at Scotland’s national stadium on Tuesday night, there is an interesting thought to be had about assumptions and managing the expectations of your ticket buying public when you’re an artist of considerable reputation with a back catalogue to boot. What songs to play that will please both audience and artist? Not as easy as it sounds – the musicians invariably want to concentrate on the new work, the fans want the old stuff. My older sister, not the most fervent of Bruce fans, decided to take a jolly with friends at the weekend and so travelled down to London to see his show at Wembley Stadium. Not overly au fait with his blistering rendition of Jimmy Cliff’s “Trapped”, or the B-side to the 7” Dancing In The Dark single (it was Pink Cadillac, since you ask), what she wanted was simple: the big songs, played as she knew them. And that’s exactly what she got. What’s more, the euphoric reviews in the broadsheets this week have confirmed that I can rest assured I won’t be at the show in Scotland witnessing a 40-minute experimental jazz medley or David Bowie-esque mime odyssey.

And yet Neil Young is not quite as reliably predictable (and I say that with love for both Neil and Bruce). During our discussions on last week’s show about the boons and perils of growing old disgracefully as a musician, reports started to trickle in about Shakey’s Glasgow gig, which was taking place that night (curse my scheduling conflicts). To say the audience was split right down the middle is a fair assessment of the correspondence we received, given that half thought the show was the work of a maverick non-conformist genius and half thought it was a “challenging” experience. 20-minute guitar solos aren’t exactly unheard of at a Neil Young concert but string more than two or three of them together and you might begin to wonder about value for money. Heart of Gold was there in the mix apparently, but his epic versions of Powderfinger, Ramada Inn and Cinammon Girl defied normal songwriting rules of structure and time and not everyone seemed to go home happy. The disappointment is understandable, such is the passion that some fans have when it comes to hearing their favourite songs, but Shakey’s conviction is also strangely admirable. In fact every time I see Dylan live I swear it’s the last, so disappointing can he be when he’s not right on his game, and yet this week I found myself queuing up for tickets to see him play the Clyde Auditorium just in case it’s one of the sacred “special nights”. It’s this unpredictability of artistry that keeps us coming back for more: you can’t please all the people all of the time, but some musicians try their best to please most of the people most of the time. Then there are those who just like to please themselves. These are the artists of a golden generation of music, defiant to the last, and they’ll do it their way. And whether it happens to please them playing the hits or not; Springsteen, The Who, Dylan and Neil Young all have it in common.

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An extract from a documentary about the making of Fleetwood Mac's Rumours.

In a few months time another legendary act – Fleetwood Mac – play the new Hydro venue in Glasgow (if it’s built on time, otherwise it’ll be the car park across the road), and I think we can safely assume they’ll be in the business of pleasing all of the people. In anticipation we’ll have the Mac as our Live on Arrival this week, alongside some Undercover from Goffin and King, and a Record of Note from She & Him. That’s in addition to the usual good and the new, and it all happens this Thursday night from 10.05pm on BBC Radio Scotland. It pleases us, and we hope it pleases you too.

Oh Patty

2013-06-14T14:08:57+01:00

When we last carried an interview with Patty Griffin I had stolen time from her backstage at The Band of Joy gig in Edinburgh, To get things started we’d knocked on her dressing room door. I felt slight trepidation at this point as I’d already encountered Robert Plant and he’d rightly wondered what on earth we were all doing there. My nerves, however, were offset by the intrigue of seeing her put down her guitar to come to the interview up the stair. What was she doing in there? (to misquote Tom) Was she writing new songs... would there be an album...was anyone else involved?

The answers didn’t come immediately but a few weeks ago I found out everything. Patty Griffin and Robert Plant came in to Studio 1 at AC central to record a session and Patty talked extensively about that writing process, her collaborators and clear up if she was really writing songs in that dressing room. It was a truly one-off AC experience made slightly, and I choose this word carefully, surreal by the great presence of Robert. He was such fun; chatted to everyone about music, Scotland, being famous…everything really. It was also clear that he loved being involved and bringing a little more attention to what Patty Griffin was doing. As you well know – and I’ll reiterate it here again – I think Patty is my favourite singer. She could sing anything and proved how versatile she was on Downtown Church a couple of years back, but on this new record she’s on sparkling form writing, playing and singing her own songs. It’s a very moving story of loss too as she will explain when she tells us the story of her late father who didn’t say very much (he had been a trappist monk at one point) but did say the words, ‘Don’t Let Me Die In Florida.’ It’s a great session with some brilliant insights from Patty so don’t miss it.

We’ll play new things from Houndmouth, Mindy Smith, Dawn McCarthy and Bonnie Prince Billie and the very moving title track to the new Guy Clark album. Expect some great old music from Trisha Yearwood and another new voice from Scotland.

We start at the usual time of five past eight on BBC Radio Scotland.

The Boss

2013-06-12T15:20:24+01:00

In the days I was a skint student, low on income and struggling to keep a lid on my increasingly feverish record buying habit, I would get my hair cut at a barbers shop round the corner from the house I grew up in. Luckily back then I didn’t sport quite the same quiffage that I do now (which naturally requires a vat of wax and a tanker of hairspray to maintain) and so the theory was that my chosen parlour would be a quick in-and-out job, cheerful but relatively cheap with none of the added frills that a more luxurious salon might offer. Little did I know, however, that my burgeoning (but not exactly significant at the time) musical interest in Bruce Frederick Joseph Springsteen was about to become an obsession, thanks in large part to my gentleman barber. Casting aside the typical “been anywhere nice on your holidays?” chat so redolent of similar establishments within minutes of getting his hands on my tousled barnet, it soon became very apparent that my hairdresser (Alan, for that was his name) was a dedicated employee of the man they like to call “The Boss”. His passion knew no bounds, and as the weeks and months passed – my hair tumbling to the shop floor with gay abandon – he laid down his love for the man only the most devoted would know as “Scooter”.

I became intrigued – where had this fanaticism come from? Though I certainly didn’t buy into the oft-peddled nonsense that Springsteen was nothing more than a denim-clad jingoistic working class hero – only writing about cars, girls and the American Dream in the broadest of strokes – I did have some difficulty seeing beyond the sound and feel of some of his mid 80s records (Born In The USA, Tunnel Of Love) for which he was perhaps best known. “Start at the beginning and work your way through” my creative clipper advised me, “then come back and see me when you want to get really serious and into the live stuff”. I duly obliged, taking flight to my local record store to purchase Bruce’s first two albums – Greetings From Ashbury Park, NJ and The Wild, The Innocent, and The E Street Shuffle – and the result was revelatory. Here was an artist I wasn’t familiar with: at the beginning of his career, rough around the edges, over-wordy and uncertain at times perhaps, but also with a voice and a style all of his own. What’s more, those early albums revealed a songwriter with guts and ambition, and in 4^th of July, Ashbury Park (Sandy) and Rosalita (Come Out Tonight) a glimpse of the cinematic sound that was soon to become his trademark.

Born To Run and Darkness On The Edge of Town came next, and I was slipping deeply under the Springsteen Spell. “Thunder Road” became like a hymn to me, a song of almost religious proportions that kept me coming back time after time to kneel at the altar of New Jersey’s favourite son. In 4 minutes and 50 seconds it seems to encapsulate Springsteen’s greatness in its entirety: the wide-eyed romanticism and wildly poetic imagery found in his words, the fragility and the power of his voice, and the epic widescreen majesty of the music. I remember putting the song on my then girlfriend’s iPod in an act of attempted proselytism and being met with vague indifference, only for that to suddenly turn to passionate obsession. After five or six listens she suddenly “got it” and was utterly hooked. My work here was done.

Steve Lamacq interviews Bruce Springsteen prior to his perforance at the Glastonbury Festival.

I’m sure that’s a common experience shared by most Springsteen devotees – he has a library of songs that you could quite happily live in for years. “Born To Run”, “Jungleland”, “Promised Land”, “Tougher Than The Rest”, “Racing In The Street”, “If I Should Fall Behind”, “Dancing In The Dark” all talk of love, struggle, hope and redemption in such a common tongue that you can’t help but be swept up by the obvious conviction that Bruce has as a songwriter. A full convert, I hankered for even more and so I sought out the live work. My barber once again proved my fixer, supplying me with countless live concerts and bootlegs – USA Blues, LA Unplugged, The Lost Radio Show – and I discovered even more to love. Elongated takes on classic songs from the Springsteen catalogue, unheard rarities, covers and more all feeding into the myth of the man: the showmanship of Elvis combined with the songwriting sincerity of Dylan proving a heady mix in the live arena. Check out the near 12 minute version of “The River” from the Live 1975-1985 boxset and you’ll see what I mean.

The reason Bruce – and what he means to me – has been on my mind is because next week he visits Hampden Park in Scotland to play for the masses. I’ll be there, hearing him play live for maybe only the 4^th or 5^th time in my life as a fan, and as usual I can’t wait to see what he includes (and doesn’t include) on the set list. It also got me thinking of all the great Springsteen live moments, of which there are many, and perhaps one of his most famous live performances at the Hammersmith Odeon in 1975. With his faithful E Street Band in tow he arrived in London riding an almost unfathomably large wave of hype and expectation to debut songs from Born To Run, and in true style blew the roof off the place. In fact it was a defining moment in his career – the “future of rock and roll” now firmly planting himself in the present – and so to celebrate we’ll have some choice moments from that very show as our Live On Arrival this week (alongside a fine Record Of Note from KT Tunstall, Undercover Elvis Costello and some great new releases).

To this day my passion for the music of Bruce Springsteen remains undimmed because, as many of you know, truly great music is something that stays with you for a lifetime: it’s only the haircuts that change.

Shakey

2013-06-07T12:52:22+01:00

I remember the time well. It was 1975 and I was just finished 5th year at school. I was obsessed by music and through a friend my current obsession focussed around the characters of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. In an attempt to stay ahead of that year’s game I bought the new Neil Young album. I’d heard Harvest and bits of the others but I wanted to know what was going on now. I bought ‘Tonight’s The Night.’ To thousands of fans this was the antithesis of everything they wanted to hear in a Neil Young album. They’d been waiting for Harvest 2…and frankly, this was not what was wanted. Stoned, slurred, slow, country...yes (but not that kind) it stretched the fans. My pal Pete had given up on the last but one – Time Fades Away and had certainly not wasted any spare change on On The Beach. He gave me Time Fades Away and I’m grateful to this day as it’s still not available on digital or CD.

So, because I came in where I did, and wanted to love it all – I now count those mid seventies ‘difficult’ albums as some of my favourites. It took me till many years later to do the same with the eighties ones – but hey everyone has got to find their own way through the Neil humps. What’s certain is that when you do you’ll get a wee reward at the end. He’s coming to Glasgow next week. It’s a disaster for me. Having said NO to a couple of things so I could be there my son’s school – philistines all of them – have called a parents night. I am determined that the business will conclude in time for me to catch the final hour or so.

It will be great to see him again. I’m not a big one for seeing people live millions of times. I’d rather see a variety of artists. I’ve seen Neil twice – once with Crazy Horse at The old Apollo and once with Booker T and the MGs at the SECC. They were both sublime experiences – the first in 1976 changed my life – but that’s another story.

I thought of Neil a lot when I first heard Three Blind Wolves. It’s the warm crunch of the guitars, idiosyncratic phrasing and relaxed view of rock – some songs take a while to get there – that binds them. All of these things are highly commendable in my opinion and I thought we’d celebrate both Neil and Three Blind Wolves this Friday. The latter band will be in Studio One for the last of our live celebrations of Scottish artists. What a month this has been. I get to be in the room and you get to hear some of the best bands around recorded by the cream of the fab BBC Engineers at BBC Scotland. In my opinion these have been some of the most exciting sessions ever.

We’re not going to be shy about introducing some new artists either this week. Get ready for new things from Ralfe Band, Valerie June, Slaid Cleeves and Daniel Meade. Be prepared too to re enjoy Suzy Boguss a lovely new offering from Tom Russell (old friends of the show) and all the usual delights. It all kicks off at five past eight on BBC Radio Scotland.

Say You Say Me

2013-06-06T10:04:19+01:00

As a nation we may not be the best at blowing our own trumpet, but maybe we should get tooting: it's a good time for Scottish music. An hour before our show aired last week the nominees were announced for the Scottish Album Of The Year (SAY) Awards, and what a handsome bunch they are. Drawn from a longlist of twenty exceptional Scottish albums released between January and December 2012, a shortlist of ten records was duly declared: nine albums as chosen by an esteemed panel of judges, and the tenth the result of a public vote. And it's a truly great array of records - Admiral Fallow, Django Django, Human Don't Be Angry, Karine Polwart, LAU, Meursault, Paul Buchanan, RM Hubbert, Stanley Odd, and The Twilight Sad all fighting it out for the top prize. Much has been made of the omission of those more successful albums - in financial terms at least - from acts such as Emeli Sande, but there is much to celebrate in the fact that most of the works nominated were either self-financed or released on independent labels. That the nominees are all so strong, and indeed pleasingly different from each other, is cause enough to give us great hope for the state of our homegrown industry.

A kind of Scottish Mercury Music Prize seems to be the best description. Inaugurated in partnership with Creative Scotland, first prize is the not inconsiderable sum of £20,000 (which, if the winning act can resist the temptation to hit Vegas, will easily help to deliver another album or two) with nine runners-up prizes of £1000 and an Art Commission valued at £20,000. So it's undoubtedly an event to be taken seriously, and one that should be lauded for its attempts to highlight the rich tapestry of music that covers our own fair country. As great as every record is, however, sadly not all fit our designated genre of show, and so we haven't had the opportunity to let our dear listeners hear selected cuts from all the artists. But of those that we have featured, five of the nominees made our "Record Of Note" on the show this past year. And every one of them has more than measured up to the quality of the albums that have come from further afield, which is always heartening. We may not be able to compete at football as we once did, but it seems we have mad skills when it comes to music.

And so over the next two weeks we'll be investigating the ten nominees in more detail, so that we can all be safe in the knowledge that we know the albums just that little bit better when the winner is announced on the 20th June. What's more our Record of Note is Camera Obscura's Desire Lines, which may well feature in next year's list for its beautifully realised pop magnificence, and in honour of Neil Young's impending visit to Glasgow's SECC we'll have some vintage Shakey from 1971 as our Live on Arrival.

Add that to Paul Simon Undercover, plus new music from a plethora of artists (both Scottish and, well, Nottish) and we have quite the show in store. We're all winners this Thursday night at 10.05pm on BBC Radio Scotland.

What do you do with 100 year old radium samples?

2013-06-03T12:50:30+01:00

You can’t just put them in a display case in a museum, as health and safety might like a word with you and members of the public tend to fancy not being irradiated. It’s been a challenge for Glasgow University, as they’re lucky enough to have rare samples from the dawn of the nuclear age. The radioactive relics belonged to Professor Frederick Soddy who did much of his finest work at the University. Soddy won the Nobel prize for his 1913 discovery of isotopes - the subtly different forms of elements which have the same chemical properties but different atomic weights. It’s a discovery used today for all kinds of intricate detective work by doctors, physicists and even archaeologists - isotopes can be used for everything from dating ancient rocks to figuring out what mummies from a desert burial site might have eaten for lunch.

So these historic samples in their glass tubes aren’t just scientific objects - they’re valuable history. They’re rare because so many early samples were thrown away as hazardous nuclear waste, and they’re still radioactive, so they can’t be treated as harmless antiques. Frederick Soddy used to take out samples like this to delight the Glasgow crowds at public lectures and to explain, long before there were such things as nuclear power stations, how radium could potentially fuel the future. But can his wonderful demonstrations be used to teach us today?

For our programme Radium Days writer Louise Welsh went along to a secret laboratory in Glasgow to meet David Sanderson, professor of Environmental Physics at Glasgow, and to see the historic samples in action with modern radiological protection to keep her safe. The results were impressive!

Oh, i'm Missing It

2013-05-31T10:22:56+01:00

Last year at this time I was in Music City. It was late May and it was strangely cold. I remember having to go and buy a pullover or two as I hadn’t brought the right clothes.
‘Why all this?’, I hear you say… It was a flyer a friend sent for CMA week and a certain late night jam at The Ryman when I thought, ‘shucks, I’m not going to be there for Marty’s Late Night Jam.’

I suppose it’s something about these magical music places….16th and 17th Streets , the RCA Studios, The Warners Building where I first experienced these writing sessions with complete strangers (sometimes stetsonned) and the lazy drives home in the late spring sunshine. ‘4 songs away,’ was how my publisher – the fabulously named Dale Bobo – answered when I asked how far his house was. It’s all mixed up in memory now – Noshville – for breakfast – The Loveless Cafe – The Bluebird.

My daughter who loves ‘Nashville,’ the series and she wants to know - What’s it like in there? You want to know, I ask. Suddenly, the enchanted place I thought was mine and mine alone has been televised and everyone wants cut in on the deal. It’s as if Pooh Corner had opened itself as a theme park.

I suppose the most fantastical bit is the combination of the places and the songs. Hearing songs on the radio about the place you’re driving round is always a thrill. Most cities in the US are not immune but it usually comes into sharp focus in New York, L.A. and especially Nashville. There’s a lovely movie running in my head of a song writer driving back to the east side, guitar in the boot turning on the radio and suddenly – her song is playing. It’s that dream that brings the singers, pickers and writers in the thousands. And, if you can make it there…well you know the rest.

I’m not there this year, partly because my wife is on the road herself in a new theatre show and because, instead of music row, I’m right in the heart of The Gorbals – Glasgow’s own magical music quarter – where I’m working on a future theatrical event. And…I’m having just as much fun.

However I thought of Nashville this week again as it’s a place I often imagine young Roddy Hart making a strong impression. Roddy is a man who knows why you have Waylon and Willie in your record collection along with Cee Lo, Pharrell, Bowie and Bolan. He’s been an AC visitor before along with the Lonesome Fire but things are changing there too. A few months ago he let me have a sneaky listen to the new project where the “Fire” step out of the shadows and lo and behold a new and exciting band emerges. So it will be that big, bright ensemble who become our third Scottish Band in this month of Studio One sessions. They will be playing songs from that new record plus talking about the sessions with producer Danton Supple as well as telling us how they got Kris Kristofferson into their video.

We will celebrate some new music from Diana Jones, Blue Rose Code, The National and KT Tunstall. We’ll hear My Darling Clementine singing about George Jones and the above mentioned Mr Kristofferson singing about Hank. Look out too for some fine moments from Stonewall Jackson and Buddy Miller. It all starts at five past eight on Friday evening on BBC Radio Scotland.

Folk

2013-05-29T14:21:51+01:00

Always look after your health, that’s a given. Without it everything has a habit of simply falling apart. After a few months of writing new songs, organising shows, rehearsing, and pulling together the requisite components for my own band’s imminent album release – as well as fulfilling my beloved radio commitments each Thursday – I was feeling a little burned out. Alright, I accept I’m very lucky and that my job is easier than most (I’m not exactly at the coal face, let’s be honest) but even we layabout musicians deserve a break every now and again. And so I saw the chance this past weekend and took my leave to enjoy four days of poor mobile reception and glorious sunshine at a little bolthole in the Scottish countryside with my family. The weather may well have contributed to my current contented state, but there is no doubt my batteries feel well and truly recharged from the rest. I have returned from the promised land a much happier and healthier man.

Sometimes in music it’s the same: genres, scenes, and movements that feel urgent and full of life one moment can feel tired and limp the next. They all need a breather from time to time, whether self-imposed or not. Elton John was right; it’s the circle of life (the leap of faith, the wheel of fortune, and so on). But I’m glad to say that at this particular moment in time the music scene in general feels pretty healthy, despite what record sales may tell us. And that’s perhaps because what really matters – artistry – isn’t as compromised as it once was. Musicians now have the ways (i.e. accessible and affordable recording systems) and the means (i.e. the Internet) to express themselves in the manner they choose, with little interference or outside influence unless they so desire. There is of course a quality control argument in all this, but the overall effect is one of a contagious creativity that quickens the pulse in the most helpful of ways.

This perhaps explains why there’s one scene that is noticeably flourishing at present: folk music. So often maligned by the mainstream as the preserve of the crusty aged, it’s no secret that it’s been enjoying a whole new lease of life recently, irrepressible in its all-conquering ubiquity. Yes, bands like banjo-wielding maniacal floor stompers Mumford and Sons have arguably been responsible for opening the floodgates, but scratch beneath the surface and there are a whole heap of artists who are quietly making their mark with quite wondrous work that sits easily beside that of the greats who have gone before them. On the longlist for the SAY Awards (discussed most enjoyably during last week’s show), for example, sit a number of Scottish artists such as Karine Polwart, Admiral Fallow and LAU who may have slipped under the radar in previous years. And in English music, the great folk torch is being carried by the likes of Laura Marling.

Laura’s new album “Once I Was An Eagle” is our Record of Note and is, as the title suggests, a work of soaring beauty. And yet it’s defiantly un-mainstream; indeed there is rarely a chorus in earshot. Wordy and wistful, the tale of an apparently difficult break up (her Blood On The Tracks?), it’s music for the heart and for the head. If it sits easily under the “folk” banner then it’s only because it’s simple and directly affecting music that could exist in almost any decade. That it’s her 4th album and she’s still attracting well deserved praise and attention is reason enough to be cheerful that there’s hope for our industry – indeed, the fact she won Best Female Artist at the Brit Awards in 2011 over the likes of Cheryl Cole tells us that the four horsemen of the apocalypse aren’t saddling up quite yet.

Also on the show this week we celebrate the work of a true folk stalwart Richard Thompson as our Undercover Writer, and go live on arrival with Janis Joplin. That’s alongside music from a diverse bunch of artists like Vampire Weekend, The New Mendicants, Deer Hunter and many more. The place to be is BBC Radio Scotland this Thursday at 10.05pm, folk.

What do you reach for?

2013-05-24T10:35:33+01:00

I once had an email exchange of views with someone who said he wasn’t going to buy my music because he said I supported terrorists. In actual fact he was referring to the fact that I was doing a benefit gig for Medical Aid to Palestine. (I know…but sometimes the public out there can be pretty ill informed.) It came up again recently when I was upbraided online for doing a free gig at a prison. How they thought the prisoners should pay for it was beyond me…

I like to know what I think, I like to think I half know what might be in the news and like everyone else I’m constantly surprised that I still get shocked by things in the news. I guess we’re all reeling from these terrible images from Woolwich and, having just returned from the supermarket and seen the spread of newspapers, I’m perhaps wishing I knew less. The trouble is we often can’t look away, and for some people there was no choice.

Sitting listening to the news over breakfast, I did what I often do in these situations; I turned down the news and put on Bruce. In particular it was Wreck On The Highway – but it could have been so many songs. It’s a gut response with me. I put on music to write this and suddenly the world seemed to make more sense. The songs were these….I Thought I Was A Child – Jackson Browne, Movin On – Sweet Honey In The Rock and Tomorrow Is A Long Time (by Bob) and sung by Nickel Creek. It helped. When I reached Alan Jackson’s Blessed Assurance I knew I was ready to step outside again. I’m sorry if that’s facile – but that’s what music does. Other times it energises you; today it consoled. What do you reach for?

On Friday we gather round a radio on the back of a news bulletin that might bring us more bad news…who will know? Inevitable we need to get on with our lives. Someone posted a lovely share about doing the ironing on Friday nights while listening…I liked that. If we can come into your life and make sense of one or two things by surprising you with great music then Mr Murdoch and I and the good Kirsten will believe we have achieved all we set out to do.

This Friday we’re delighted to welcome Eugene Twist and the band to Studio One. It’s a first visit by Eugene since his album came out last year and he’s promising us new songs too. We’ll find out all about him, his recordings and the kind of country he digs himself in the second half of the show.

Before that…. The Dixie Chicks, Son Volt, Jimmie Rodgers and finally Aoife O’Donovan’s album pokes its head out of the box.

We’ll play Lord Huron and tell you how you can hear more from them in the weeks to come and we’ll play you a Tom T Hall song that could easily be described as one of the greatest Country Songs of All Time. We do all this in two hours you know. It all starts at five past eight on Friday Evening. BBC Radio Scotland.

Shredding the Boards

2013-05-22T09:39:47+01:00

Is there some sort of undeniable creative thread that links the acting profession to the music profession? Both worlds seem littered with individuals equally as willing to try their hand at either job, often with hugely variable and unpredictable results. Zooey Deschanel is a talented actress – doe-eyed indie darling of movies like 500 Days Of Summer and accomplished comedy foil to Will Ferrell in Christmas classic Elf – but she is also one half of rising pop duo She and Him alongside M Ward, already on their 3rd album and growing in popular and critical stature every day (we’ve been playing the infectious new single “Never Wanted Your Love” quite a bit on the show). Tom Waits is a revered songwriter, but it was perhaps inevitable that the showmanship and theatrical verve so evident in his work would find its way onto screen in some form (he has always favoured the more peculiar of roles, one particularly memorable character his bartender in Francis Ford Coppola’s “Rumble Fish”).

I have been thinking about this because last week I headed to the Royal Concert Hall in Glasgow to see a long time favourite of mine, Loudon Wainwright III. I’ve attended a number of his gigs over the years, and converted a fair few non-believers in the process. There is always much to recommend, even for the uninitiated, in his highly personal and often hysterically funny songs. In beauties like White Winos, April Fools Day Morn, Your Mother And I, One Man Guy and so many more, his life is laid bare. But beyond the songs, there is the physical side to his performance – all nervous ticks, sudden lunges and bizarre facial contortions. It has to be seen to be believed, and there is little surprise that he has also wandered into movies (beginning in 1974’s M*A*S*H as the ”Singing Surgeon” and continuing as recently as hit films Big Fish and Knocked Up). But this particular show in Glasgow somewhat strangely welded the two talents together. So, in between the usual perfectly crafted three-and-a-half-chord gems that seem to flow endlessly from his pen, we were also treated to serious monologues written by his father (Loudon Snowden Wainwright, Jr, a writer for America’s Life magazine with whom his son had a famously difficult relationship), delivered from an antique armchair on the stage. It was unexpected and, although a little too close to a sort of public therapy at times, it mostly worked. It may not have been quite what the audience paid to see, but it certainly added an extra dimension that was admirable.

There is of course a natural relationship between acting and music – the need to express creative urges well suited to both vocations – so it is perhaps only to be expected that the more arty type may flit quite frequently between the two. But it doesn’t always work. Despite valiant efforts, the film career of David Bowie never quite squared with his musical persona(s). And Scarlett Johansson’s album of Tom Waits covers just seemed odd (though top marks for giving it a go, Scarlett – call me anytime you want a full review). The Beatles of course made some fun movies as the Beatles, but John Lennon didn’t quite make the grade as a serious actor in Richard Lester’s “How I Won The War”. And maybe we should be thankful, because it allowed him to concentrate on writing some of the best songs popular music has ever known. He channeled any creative frustrations he had from his failure as an actor into his writing, and by no coincidence he happens to be our Undercover Writer on the show this week.

Also on the show we’ll hear a Record Of Note from Beth Orton’s beau Sam Amidon, and go Live On Arrival with Bob Dylan’s 30th Anniversary Concert Celebration (his acting wasn’t the best either, but thankfully he stuck at the music). So join us this Thursday at 10.05pm on BBC Radio Scotland as we raise the curtain on an evening of superlative entertainment.

Live From Studio One

2013-05-17T10:09:23+01:00

... A Month of Great, Scottish Musicians and Bands who we revere and consider as great friends of Another Country.

It’s going to be big, noisy and very exciting and it all starts this Friday with Woodenbox. Many of you will remember their session from a couple of years back and since then they’ve managed to lose a ‘fistful of fivers’ and keep things simple with a one word monikor. They’ve also given birth to a fab new album, tracks from which they will play this Friday as well as an interesting cover version which they’ve rustled up for us.

Woodenbox embrace a great country tradition of putting horns on their records. There have been some old and new records with a similar vibe, Johnny Cash, The Mavericks and recently Phosphorescent and Iron and Wine. It’s a tradition we like very much and anyone who has ever seen The Last Waltz knows that sometimes you just need to create a big roots stew….we’ll broadcast this particular casserole in the second half of Friday’s show.

As ever though we’ll make sure you hear the best of the new things out there. I’m pleased to say we’ll continue to enjoy the new offering from Patty Griffin, we’ll reflect on a wonderful Emmylou Harris and Rodney Crowell concert in midweek and we’ll make some introductions too. Has anyone out there heard Valerie June yet? Believe me you will very soon. New things too from Houndmouth, Blue Rose Code and Kacey Musgraves. We’ll celebrate some wonderful country from Marty Robbins and Lee Ann Womack and heck I’d imagine we’ll surprise you with the odd thing or two too. It all kicks off at five past eight on BBC Radio Scotland.

Hip Hype

2013-05-16T10:05:34+01:00

There are two types of hype machine on the market these days. Hype Machine 1: the uber-slick, expensive and highly attuned device, targeted specifically to meet all of our zeitgeisty requirements, usually driven by – and for – the masses. When it works it can be an impressive beast. You would have to have been living under a very large (and non disco ball shaped) rock not to have heard at least a little of the most recent Daft Punk single “Get Lucky”. The strategic placement of a one-minute advert during the American TV show Saturday Night Live displayed Pharrell Williams and Nile Rodgers (backed by the Punk’s robots in residence) in all their glitter-suited glory, and did a quite frankly magnificent job of alerting us to the groove heavy delights of the song.

It instantly became the most hyped single of recent times: the Internet in overdrive, critics and fans alike falling over themselves paying tribute in euphoric ecstasy, instant cover versions, and the odd parody here and there (comedian Peter Serafinowicz my own personal favourite). The song hit number 1 in the charts with apparent ease, and all seemed set for the succeeding album’s unchallenged ascension to the throne. But hype is a fickle mistress as we all know, and early signs are that the long player – “Random Access Memories” – hasn’t connected quite as successfully. Indeed, there is something of a backlash and the overwhelming feeling in some quarters that the album is a disappointment of sorts. But really, could it ever have lived up to the hype?

Then of course there is Hype Machine 2, which is a defiantly more old school contraption requiring a definite dash of oil to start it up. But once firing on all cylinders it is more reliable in nature, certainly more robust and able to withstand sudden changes in the weather. It has consistency, if you will. And so this week sees hype of the more slow-burning kind produced by its engine – The National’s new album “Trouble Will Find Me”. Regular listeners of the show (and indeed readers of this blog) will be well aware of my love for The National, a group of four brothers and one friend based in Brooklyn, New York, that quietly and with little fanfare has presented itself as one of the best bands in recent times.

I first became aware of them about 6 years ago when they played Glasgow’s Nice and Sleazys to approximately 15 people. In the interests of full disclosure I admit that they had little effect on me, mainly because I was there to see a friend’s band who were opening the show, but I was reminded of them a few years later by my guitarist John (always one step ahead of the curve in these matters) who demanded I listen to their album “Boxer”. It didn’t take long for their hook to sink into my skin, and in their music I felt something I hadn’t for quite some time: a connection. The often profoundly moving everyman poetry of Matt Berningers words, not to mention his lugubriously arresting baritone vocals; the lo-fi meets hi-fi orchestration, layered and dense and infinitely investigable; and the drumming – don’t even get me started on the drumming. Just some of the many things I greatly admire about what the chaps from The National do.

Since forming in 1999, the band has had to endure the long road to recognition. It hasn’t been easy, but there is no doubt that what has propelled them forward at such a steady pace is good old fashioned word of mouth and a kind of steely eyed devotion from their fans. That began to turn in to hype with the release of 2010’s “High Violet” – most likely the band’s masterpiece, and a good place to start for the uninitiated – and has built to a quiet fever with their 6th album “Trouble Will Find Me”, released this coming Monday. What’s pleasing is that they haven’t pandered to the masses – this is The National resolutely refusing to be drawn into our world, instead insisting that we come and spend some more time in theirs. Only time will allow us to judge where it sits in what is already an impressive body of work, but it’s typically weird and pretty wonderful. As our Record of Note – alongside some fantastic music from the likes of Camera Obscura, The Strokes, Stornoway, Kurt Vile and more – you can find out what all the hype is about this Thursday at 10.05pm on BBC Radio Scotland.

The World Is So Full Of Such Wonderful Things

2013-05-13T17:21:37+01:00

…I’m sure we should all be as happy as kings. (Robert Louis Stevenson – a fine writer and Scotsman to boot)

I’ve had a wonderful few weeks and I did mean to send everyone a postcard from Brighton...

That’s why, having spent a number of weeks on the road, I’ll be very happy to be land-locked in studio 6 on Friday night with a pile of new records to share with you. This Friday, my friend, there are no guests, no session versions, only great new records. And boy, do we have some great new music for you.

Here’s what we have lined up so far: New records from the fab Phosphorescent, Ruth Moody and Holly Williams. New discoveries….we hear from Daniel Meade for the first time. Daniel’s from Scotland and we’ll also share some great new records from fellow Scottish artists Woodenbox and Peter Roe. We’ll introduce you to Brazos and we’ll hear some great vintage recordings from Hank Thompson, The Carter Family and Tom T Hall. Does that whet your appetite enough?

As I mentioned earlier I’ve been on the road these last few weeks. I’ve been pleased to have My Darling Clementine as my special guests each night and Michael and Lou have given me a sneak listen to their new record. Tomorrow night I’ll be able to share some of that with you. The album comes out in september and I hope we can catch up with them for all their news later this year.

One of the loveliest things about my road trip was meeting people who listen to the AC. (not just in Scotland either). Here’s my fellow blogger Adam and me enjoying an after show beer in London at The Union Chapel. Adam it was great to put a face to such a loyal and articulate listener.

I’ve been nearly everywhere man…..so tomorrow night I’ll be back in the saddle again… It’s being with Gregor Philp – I can’t stop punning. I’ll have stopped by tomorrow when the old valves will start to glow just on five past eight on BBC Radio Scotland. Do join me if you can.

The Odd Couple

2013-05-08T16:01:16+01:00

As the song goes, “it takes two, baby”. But collaboration in music is the most unpredictable of beasts. Do it well and you can create some truly interesting work – valid and challenging musical projects that bring the best of talent together in new, unusual and often unpredictable ways. Think ex-Belle and Sebastian singer Isobel Campbell and former Screaming Trees frontman Mark Lanegan, both seemingly from different ends of the musical spectrum, combining to glorious effect on their Mercury nominated album “Ballad Of The Broken Seas”. Or serious indie troubadour M Ward and actress ingénue Zooey Deschanel as fey pop duo She and Him – an equally unlikely pairing that somehow has the crucial chemistry and musical integrity to lift it beyond any accusations of being a Hollywood vanity project.

Do it badly however and you can end up with something as, ahem, “challenging” as Lou Reed and Metallica’s “Lulu”. Sadly not the album of covers from the Lennoxtown chanteuse’s back catalogue that we’ve been praying for all these years, but instead a difficult and frequently impenetrable collection of songs that had critics reaching for their pens with the sort of feverish glee only reserved for the most terrifyingly extraordinary of associative works. The album is a concept of sorts, based on two plays written by German playwright Frank Wedekind and featuring Lou’s spoken word set against the thrashing angst of Metallica’s menacing instrumentals. Upon its release in 2011, Pitchfork called it “exhaustingly tedious”, The Telegraph “grueling”, Blabbermouth “a catastrophic failure on almost every level” (the reviews hurtling steadily downhill from there). And to think, on paper it seemed like a sure fire hit!

I know from my own experience that deciding to journey with a co-pilot on any musical expedition is both exciting and scary, simply because you just don’t know how it will turn out. I’ve always been a writer of the solitary kind, mostly because I worry irrationally about how to best tackle creative differences before they’ve even arrived. This may be attributable to some early co-writing experiences that I didn’t particularly enjoy – it seemed to me to be a wasted occurrence, producing what I found to be songs of compromise and mixed messaging. Turns out I was wrong, in part, because naturally it all depends on who you collaborate with – maybe a sign of my advancing years but these days I am less stubborn, more willing and able to sit in a room with someone who can bring a whole new perspective to my own writing style. Add this to the fact that outside of the writers’ den I have been lucky enough to have enjoyed some lovely collaborations as a singer with artists such as Kris Kristofferson, Eddi Reader, and Gemma Hayes, and I can see why so many musicians seek solace in melodic partnership. Misery likes company, after all.

I’ve been musing this of late because of the beautiful new record from Tift Merritt and Simone Dinnerstein – “Night” – that brings the ostensibly disparate worlds of a singer/songwriter and a classical pianist together. Described as “two explorers seeking a common musical path”, this is the get-together of two undoubtedly kindred spirits from different musical backgrounds and disciplines. It shouldn’t really work, but it does. It’s a beguiling collection of songs – delicate, enchanting and completely arresting – and such is the obvious synergy and connection that the two have on record it’s almost as if they have been heading towards this meeting place all their lives. We played a track from it on the show last week – “Colours” – and it provoked such the reaction that we’re making the whole album our Record of Note this week. Expect to hear a few choice selections from it, alongside Leonard Cohen as Undercover Writer and Live on Arrival with Nina Simone, plus all the usual good and the new. But remember it takes two to tango – to make sweet music together, we need you there this Thursday from 10.05pm on BBC Radio Scotland.

Hearing Voices

2013-05-02T14:16:54+01:00

In last week’s blog I mentioned my admiration for the voice of Roy Orbison, a man who could reputedly scale nearly 4 octaves with apparent ease (those tight trousers paid off in the end). But somewhere amongst the superlatives perhaps I failed in my attempts to describe just why I find it so special. “Distinctive” was the simple word I was searching for. Because when you hear a Roy Orbison record in whatever context, there is no denying that it’s Roy Orbison. And yet it’s hard to put a finger on just why his vocals connected so deeply with listeners over the years: maybe the tone, maybe the phrasing, maybe just the sheer heavenly quality of the high notes he seemed to have a habit of hitting effortlessly from single to single. All of these elements (and many more besides) were the making of the man and, more importantly, the voice.

So, when we took to the air on Thursday night, prompted by our celebration of Roy and his work I casually posed the question: “Who owns your favourite and most distinctive voice in song?”. Cue a veritable tsunami of thoughts and musings. From Bon Iver to Jeff Buckley, Joni Mitchell to Mark Linkous, it turns out you know and love your unusual voices too, which naturally makes me leap with joy and unbridled ecstasy. My own voice of note from recent years would have to be Matt Berninger of The National – a sort of indie Leonard Cohen, pouring a magnificently bottled baritone over his band’s songs like sweet honey. I’m not alone in my appreciation of his talent, but I’ve met a fair few people who just can’t stomach his low growling vocals. And yet it seems a truism that everyone who hears his voice can’t forget it. It has that elusive beast about it: character.

Because whilst technical ability is all fine and well, give me Bob Dylan over Mariah Carey any day of the week. Being pitch perfect is overrated anyway – we’ve all come up against those accomplished singers at our local karaoke nights, and they always spoil our drunken fun. What really matters is the ability to connect on some sort of primal level with an audience – to actually make them feel something. And invariably that can only be done by the simple act of being human in song: a crack of fragility, a touch of tenderness, a hint of anger, a shot of compassion. Whatever it may be that adds the more unusual of qualities to a voice, it is character that breeds distinctiveness. And distinctiveness is what brings us back to our favourite artists, time after time.

And talking unforgettable voices, this week we lost another great singer in George Jones. I’ll hold my hands up and say I was never overly familiar with the work, but I was familiar with the voice. Frequently referred to as one of the greatest country singers of all time, his was a set of vocal chords that screamed pure emotion and so I’m thankful that we’ll have the chance to investigate and celebrate this purveyor of perfect phrasing on the show this week. Add in the 80 year old Willie Nelson (we’ll pay tribute as a taster to what Ricky has in store on Friday’s Another Country), and a host of great artists on the block with new material – including Vampire Weekend, The Staves, and Daughter – and you have a whole choir of characters to immerse yourself in. To hear our voices of choice all you have to do is turn the dial this Thursday at 10.05pm on BBC Radio Scotland.