Hats Off To Led Zep 3............

It’s taken quite a few years to come to this conclusion, but ‘Led Zep 3’ is probably my favourite Led Zeppelin album and therefore deserves the questionable immortality an entry in the blog.
Up until the Summer of 1979, when a friend at school lent me his copy of Led Zep 4 (the one with ‘Stairway’ on it of course) in order to try and broaden my horizons beyond The Beatles, Bowie and The Jam, Led Zep (in my opinion at the time) belonged to an older generation altogether, namely the greatcoat and granny specs wearing prefects of the Sixth Form at the all boys Catholic school I was attending at the time - basically 17 year old oiks given some degree of authority by teachers who preferred to spend cold break times in the staff room drinking coffee and chain smoking their Embassy Regal. Said prefects would admonish The Jam, Clash, Pistols and Stranglers in favour of the ‘real music’ they listened to; Led Zep, Deep Purple, Genesis, Floyd, Mike Oldfield, hell, probably even a bit of Gentle Giant and Van Der Graaf Generator too. Although this did lead to some puerile but still vaguely amusing playground urban myths being created by us ‘punk’ kids concerning these so called figures of authority indulging in meticulously choreographed and impeccably timed acts of self abuse to the accompaniment of the whole of ‘Supper’s Ready’ by Genesis, somewhere between finishing their physics homework and supper being, indeed, ready.
But Led Zep 4 weaved its magic nonetheless – specifically I recall over the weekend of the 1979 FA Cup Final (as a Spurs fan I will still begrudgingly admit it was a thriller of a final) In fact ‘When The Levee Breaks’ is as inextricably linked to Arsenal’s admirable comeback against Man Utd in my head as REM’s ‘Murmur’ album is to the 1986 all Merseyside final. Strange. But True.
This opened my eyes and ears to this so called ‘older boys’ music – although I would never have admitted this to the ‘prefects’ of course and I was to be converted to Led Zep instantly (with Floyd, Genesis, King Crimson etc etc etc to follow), slowly acquiring their back catalogue over the next few years. I finally got around to buying a copy of ‘3’ on one of the many trips to the record stall at the indoor market in Watford sometime in the early 1980s – a nice original pressing too with the revolving wheel in the front of the sleeve, from the £1.00 box. I suppose my initial reaction was much the same as that of a lot of contemporary critics when the album was first released in 1970, ie a bit of a let down, way too acoustic and folky, but with perseverance it grew and grew over the years until my £1.00 second hand album became a CD and ultimately an intangible computer file stored on a small and extremely precious little gadget I take with me everywhere I go.
One of the most endearing qualities of ‘3’ is the variety within. For those who like their Zeppelin super heavy (and who doesn’t after all) there is the rampant Nordic plunder and pillage of ‘The Immigrant Song’ the jubilant ‘Celebration Day’ and the more ‘traditional’ Led Zep sound of ‘Out On The Tiles’. You also have the beautiful and melodic ‘Tangerine’ the plaintive ‘That’s The Way’ and of course the incredible ‘Since I’ve Been Loving You’ – I’m a bit wary of the lengthy slow blues work out, but this is just incredible in its performance and delivery and possibly my favourite Zeppelin track of them all. But perhaps most of all it is the acoustic / folky stuff that initially met with, well, if not sneers and derision then at least some scepticism, that ultimately makes the album so special. There are the sinister eastern flavoured strings on ‘Friends’, the urgent, mandolin driven gallop of ‘Gallows Pole’ and the foot tapping hoedown of ‘Bron Y Awr Stomp’. Wrap this all up with the sheer insanity of ‘Hats Off To Roy Harper’ that concludes the proceedings and the package is complete.
As tranquil as it is intense, Led Zeppelin 3 is a perfect accompaniment to the (hopefully) warmer, sunnier days to come. Well worth revisiting if you haven’t heard it in ages, equally well worth investigating if you have never heard it at all. After all, why should the prefects have all the fun.
More to follow………..

Typical me really. My New Years resolution for 2010 was to write and maintain a daily blog. It started brightly in January and had dried up by the middle of February, barring the odd return; the last being my ecstatic retrospective review of Paul Weller's 'Heliocentric' written during my enthusiastic catch up on his back catalogue early last summer. All the old entries are still there as I log on this evening for the first time since last summer; some are interesting snapshots of where my mind was at just over a year ago, there are some interesting reviews and a few things I will still stand by, but much of it reeks of desperation, when I began to realise that it is not easy to even try to be interesting, amusing and thought provoking on a daily basis and also began to run out of ideas (my tirade against my ineptitude at online fantasy football games and my detailed tour round my 'fittie folder' are particularly awful) In the end the best advice I received was from one of the two (yes, two) followers of the blog, my beloved brother Brian, who suggested I was at my best when reviewing or just rambling on about music, movies, TV shows or books. If Brian was politely saying 'this is because the rest of the stuff is pure shite' (which I'm sure he was, without trying to in any way offend) then it was advice well received and well heeded - apart from what I'm writing now of course.

So, a little over a year down the line I suddenly have a thought. 'Why not kick a bit of life back into old Arthur and get the blog going again?' I'm hardly in a good place to be starting to blog again really; I need to keep the momentum going on my search for permanent employment that will go some way towards paying the bills and I am two hefty assignments and a full on exam away from completing the latest module of my degree course (Open University, English Literature and Language) - so many excuses really. I wouldn't have dared to so much as open the blog page during the first ten miserable weeks of this year when I was completely out of work (something those close to me will be painfully aware of from my constant griping) but at least for now I have some temping work which I am enjoying, so purely as a means to relax of an evening and share a few thoughts with anyone who cares to read, then why not - I'll give it another go.

I'll leave it at that for now (sorry Brian - I will heed your advice from now on) except to say that if you do read this, or any future blog posts, please do get in touch with ideas; music, movies, books, TV or (day I say it) anything that you think might benefit from, or be totally destroyed by The Thoughts of Chairman Arthur. You have been warned.

Coming soon I strongly suspect; Led Zep III, Wolf Creek and Stephen King's 'Full Dark No Stars'.

So having got all that off my chest I'm quite looking forward to getting this going again and with some allowance for excitement I can say for the first time in a long time....... more to follow.

Weller I Never! (Review - Paul Weller - Heliocentric)

I'm going to try and reactivate the blog after a long break and (on the good advice of one of my three followers - my brother Brian) just stick to music, movies and books from now on. So here we go with my take on an album released in 2000 by Paul Weller;- 'Heliocentric'

Despite having loved The Jam as a teenager (I still enjoy casually telling Weller fans under the age of 40 that I saw them live 4 times between May 1979 - my first ever gig - and February 1981), and admired (loved may be too strong a word) The Style Council as a twenty something finding my way in the world, I'm not really sure why I chose to simply ignore the majority of Paul Weller's solo career (certainly his output following the `Britpop Years' and his 1998 greatest hits anyway) until now, when a recent chance encounter with his 'As Is Now' album made me decide to binge out on his back catalogue.
Perhaps it makes some sense that now I have at least some of the characteristics of what the cynical media might term a `typical Weller fan' (a 45 year old Dad who wears inexpensive Lambretta and Ben Sherman clothing to go and do the Tesco shop on a Saturday morning and could, if pushed, recite most of the script of `Quadrophenia' from memory) I should now start catching up with his 21st Century output too.

And so to `Heliocentric' his fifth solo studio album, originally released in 2000. Of all the Weller albums I have been listening to whilst playing catch up over the past few months, Heliocentric has been the most surprising in that (despite many negative reviews I have read, both recent and from the time of its release) it has completely knocked me for six and is, in a word, superb.

Perhaps ten years ago (with `Britpop' as we knew it in the 1990s pretty much dead and buried) this album may have sounded a bit old hat, I don't know, I didn't hear it then, so I can only really go on my reaction to it now, at the start of the summer 2010 and I absolutely love it.

Heliocentric certainly demands a few plays, all the way through and all in one go, before it really starts to weave its magic on the listener. Often slated by detractors as being similarly paced and `plodding' this could not be further from the truth; every song on the album is unique, carefully constructed and beautifully performed.

Other reviewers have said that the songs get better and better as the album progresses; this is also a view I share, although I personally do not think there is one even vaguely weak track amongst them all. If you want what could be classed as `typical' Weller then the opener; `He's The Keeper' will not disappoint. It's a slow paced rock song very much in the late Small Faces style delivered with emotion and punch. It is also a tribute to former Small Face and latter day Face Ronnie Lane. `Frightened' is a Lennon styled ballad with an excellent, vulnerable lyric, which is followed by Weller's often maligned ode to his daughter; `Sweet Pea' which is cute and harmless, bringing to mind Don Partridge's 1968 one-man-band anthem `Rosie'. Next up is `A Whale's Tale' a raucous and oddball sing a long dealing with (I think) themes of victimisation. All in all a great start, but things really kick into gear with `Back In The Fire' a stirring and slightly sinister Blur-esque trip hop in which Weller rants (in his much loved Woking accent, not the American singing voice he has adopted more in recent years) about being `handcuffed to some wanker' with genuine bile as of old

The sublime string arrangements are one of this albums secret weapons, perhaps none more so than on the huge ballad `Dust And Rocks'. Then comes the incredible `There Is No Drinking After You're Dead' - musically much faster paced and aggresive, but with a slow drawling vocal very reminiscent of Cream at their most psychedelic. Razor sharp and bristling with energy - it even manages to go a bit exotic with an eastern themed string break in the middle. `With Time And Temperance' is another reflection on Weller's (then) recent marriage breakdown. Another superb melody that leads to a haunting and trippy outro. I don't know why, but this song (to me at least) sounds a great deal like some long lost Jam single from mid 1981 which can only be a good thing. OK so we are getting on to the end of the album now with `Picking Up Sticks' - a truly incredible piece of funky West Coast psychedelia with a ridiculously catchy keyboard riff throughout and a short `drum solo' during the instrumental work out at the end. I love drum solos anyway so I'm happy (Perhaps Weller could recruit Ginger Baker for a future tour, then allow him a full on 15 minute `Toad' solo whilst he nips off to change his mohair suit!) So that just leaves the closing ballad `Love-Less' which is very soulful (in a kind of `What's Going On' way) and builds to such a gorgeous `goose bumps' crescendo of an ending that leaves you with an exhilarated `how the hell do I follow that?' feeling.

You follow it by simply starting it all again from the beginning as I have been doing, pausing only to eat, work and sleep, for about four weeks now.

I kid you not; this album is incredible and without doubt one of the best of Weller's entire career. Listen to it now with the warm Summer months ahead - it's a perfect soundtrack to sunny days and warm balmy evenings. Alternatively, play it in the middle of Winter and its sunny vibe will save you a packet on heating bills. Brilliant stuff. (9/10)

Concerning Francoise Hardy.................

I’m never much happier than when I have a good, wholesome, all consuming music fad taking over my life, so happy indeed I am to report that I am at the moment listening to very little apart from French pop from the 1960s, in particular Francoise Hardy.

Regular readers of my blog (there are millions, I keep telling myself) will know that to my shame, I decided to investigate her music after building up a crush of monolithic proportions based on a photo of her from 1966 that was given pride of place in my legendary (but very tasteful) ‘Fittie Folder’. But the truth is I am not quite that shallow and the only reason I found that photo in the first place was because I was already listening to Serge Gainsbourg and there she was, in all her loveliness, on the ‘if you like this you might enjoy this’ bit of Gainsbourg’s Amazon pages.

My starting point was what turned out to be possibly the best value CD I have ever bought, a Hardy compilation called ‘The Vogue Years’ – 50 tracks on a double CD package, excellent photos and sleevenotes and all a bargain at £4.50 with free P&P from Amazon. 50 tracks in one go from an artist I am completely new to is a lot to take on, so, being Col, I stuck it on I-tunes (and straight onto the ipod), found myself an excellent Hardy discography online, then spent a long evening splitting the tracks into sections based on the original album they first appeared on. I even downloaded the cover art for each album, so that anyone casually browsing through my ‘pod’ will be bowled over at the extent of my Hardy collection (or perhaps not). All in all this has made it a lot easier to listen in relevant, smaller sections rather than trawling through the whole thing in one go.

Despite the fact that she audibly matures musically (and I presume lyrically, although I never did pay much attention in French lessons) over the period covered here (1962 – 1967) there is a generally pleasant ambience throughout, conjuring up images of Parisien pavement cafes, good quality coffee, non tipped Gaulloises and beautiful young people on scooters or in Deux Cheveaux. This is of course aided by the fact that all songs (on this compilation at least, as she did record in English and other languages too) are sung in her native French. She was (still is) a very clever lady too, writing most of her own songs and playing the guitar. The language barrier is no big deal, as her voice is beautiful in itself, soft and understated; the only comparison I can make is that at times she sounds a little Marianne Faithful in her early days of the mid sixties when recording for Decca. There are many beautiful songs here (I can honestly say I don’t think there is a ‘bad’ track out of the entire 50), many of which have a familiar melody and may well have been re-written into English hits, but at this moment in time I can’t think of a single example.

The earlier material here is more conventional 1960s pop, blending influences of twist, beat, Phil Spector and the ‘Wall Of Sound’, The Shadows, Motown and The Beatles, later progressing to introspective folk, plaintive ballads, rock and more traditional French ‘chanson’

I’m still getting acquainted with what is effectively an ‘instant Francoise collection’ (it’s certainly too comprehensive to be considered just a ‘greatest hits’) and it continues to grow on me, but so far, for me the strongest material is from what seems to be two of her most critically acclaimed albums; ‘Mon Amie Le Rose’ (1964) and ‘L’Amitee’ (1965) both of which are included almost in their entirety on ‘The Vogue Years’

This is very beautiful, unimposing, melodic pop from a fine, talented artist that is the perfect antidote to all that is the stress of modern life. Something as simple and accessible as this music and her fine voice can not only take me away from things for a while, but reaffirm my love of life in the process.

In a word, 'Wow'

My Humble Tribute To Uncle Seamus

Uncle Seamus passed away yesterday. I don't know all the details other than his funeral is tomorrow (no hanging about in Ireland - very similar to Spain really - this time last year Ana was frantically trying to get a flight out in time for the funeral of our late beloved Abuelita who was to be buried about 18 hours after passing away) He'd had a good long life (in his late 80s) and as he had been a widower for a few years since Auntie Lizzie passed away, I hope the end was a peaceful one and, if things work out the way they should, they can be reunited in a better place.

I have a few memories of Uncle Seamus, so I thought I would put them in my blog by way of a humble tribute.

I first met him on one of only two visits I have made in my lifetime to Dad's homeland of Co Antrim in Northern Ireland. We went as a family (with the exception of new born Matt, who we left home alone - just kidding of course - he stayed with a friend of Mum's who was apparently dying to look after him - which was fine by me, because I still hadn't got quite used to the competition) in the summer of 1969, when I was 4 years old. We saw a lot of Seamus and Lizzie and their own kids at that time were in their teens and early twenties I think. He drove a VW Beetle, and I dropped a Double 99 ice cream cone on his shoes whilst legging it back a little too excited from the ice cream van on the beach at Cushendal. He had a great 'knee bouncing' technique (rather like Dad) and coined my official Irish nick-name, 'Colin Glen Sausages' (look, I was 4 ok, and maybe you had to be there, but I appreciated it anyway)

In the early 70s, Seamus and Lizzie came to stay with us in Bounds Green Road and I remember spending a whole afternoon entertaining them with a lengthy but banging DJ Set of all of Dad's Nana Mouskouri singles (and he had a few I can tell you), finished off with 'The Black Velvet Band' (the only Irish single I remember we had at the time) played at the wrong speed for comedy effect (there could be an act in there somewhere - mental note to contact 'Britain's Got Talent')

The last time I had the pleasure of a few days in his company was back in 1990, my second visit to Co Antrim and this time with my new bride (Ana) who I wanted to show Dad's side of the family (I had been taken to Spain the previous year to meet Ana's equally huge Spanish side of the family) It was only a little over a year since Dad had died and when Uncle Seamus arrived at one of the many big gatherings that were held in our honour, it was heartbreaking to see how much like Dad he was, in his looks, his mannerisms, even the way he stood; on the sidelines, hand on chin, nodding in silent approval to himself at the fine gathering of family around him. Towards the end of our stay, Seamus and Lizzie took us on a whirlwind tour of all their (now grown up) offspring with all their own families, and a full works chinese meal in Antrim town. Seamus was even then quite hard of hearing, added to which there was a band march happening outside, so conversation was limited because he couldn't hear a thing anyway. I remember being quite happy just to sit and watch him, a good and dignified man, just like Dad and all his brothers.

That's my own little personal tribute to Uncle Seamus. May he rest in peace.

A Couple Of Hammer 'Dracula' Movies Revisited...

Last night (for want of something better to do) I watched ‘Brides Of Dracula’ and ‘Dracula Prince Of Darkness’ back to back. I honestly don’t think I have watched either of those in the last 30 odd years and I have no idea why I was suddenly struck with the desire for a ‘Hammer Double Bill’ but there you go.

Although ‘Brides’ has no Dracula, and therefore no Christopher Lee, I think it is by far the better of the two. Baron Meinster (David Peel) at least has some dialogue and a bit of character development (as opposed to Lee hissing a few times and having a dreadful girly fight with the hero of ‘Prince’) and of course Cushing is excellent as Van Helsing. There are some terrific characters in ‘Brides’ too, the super camp Baroness, the hypochondriac, money obsessed doctor and the completely barking Freda too, as well as the overtones of incest and homo eroticism (Meinster is not fussy about sinking his fangs into his own Mum, or indeed Cushing) lacking in other movies of the franchise. That’s not to say he isn’t averse to also infiltrating the gothic equivalent of a ‘Carry On Camping’ style all girls school to spread his wickedness and even proposing marriage to the sauce pot French heroine who was silly enough to release him in the first place. Even the ridiculous plot padding in ‘Brides’ is amusing and enjoyable (the Innkeepers speech about how ‘my horse brasses remind me of the different seasons of the year’ – excellent stuff) and it has a superb ending too, so the crap rubber bats earlier in the film can be excused on this occasion.

Prince of Darkness is OK I suppose, but takes bloody ages to get going. The non speaking, hissing, girly fighting Lee is probably on screen for a total of about 15 minutes and the Victorian Yuppy types who visit the castle invite no sympathy whatsoever. Most annoying of all is the old ‘quick it’s getting dark now’ routine when it is clearly still broad daylight (I know this was because of budget constraints, but is really is dreadful) Lee (so menacing, not to mention quick on his feet in the original Hammer ‘Dracula’) fannies around waving his arms about on the ice (in the bloody broad daylight!) and that’s about it.

It’s not all bad though, Father Sandor makes for an entertaining Van Helsing replacement (and gives an excellent speech about the pleasure of warming one’s arse in front of the fire) and there is a fine cameo by the ever reliable*** Thorley Walters.

Anyhow, I enjoyed both movies enough to want more, so it looks like I’m going to have a plod through the whole Hammer ‘Dracula’ franchise. Prepare therefore for more razor sharp critique in the near future……………………………….if you read Empire magazine, otherwise look out for more of my Drac related babbling.

*** Except perhaps for his (apparently half cut and not having troubled to learn his lines) Police Inspector in ‘Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed’ of course.

To My Old Friends (and How I'm Shit At Fantasy Footie)

This season my 'Fantasy Premier League' team has been a disaster, simply because I could not leave the team alone. I have been the kiss of death to the form of many a player this season in my quest for points, using up my weekly transfer allocation greedily, and often losing points for additional transfers, but nearly always too late. The prime example seems to be Jermaine Defoe; he stuck five past Wigan in an incredible 9-1 victory (which considering Spurs' current form seems like an eternity ago) so of course I signed him at the expense of Adebayor and made him Captain too. How many league goals has he scored since? He's probably missed more penalties than scored goals. Clint Dempsey - on a brilliant run of form for Fulham pre Christmas, so I sign him and sure enough he's crocked probably for the rest of the season. These are just two examples misguided errors of judgement I have made week in and week out. Like the scab on your knee after falling over as a kid, heed the advice - leave it alone and it will get better quicker, but I just had to keep fiddling........................

So if there is a player you would like to see have a sudden dip in form (I'm not going to say 'or you would like to see injured' because that's just plain wrong) let me know and for a small fee I could arrange for him to ruin his career by means of a 'virtual' stint with the phenomenally bad 'Tweets And Twinchers'

Far more successful has been my management of Deportivo (my late Spanish Grandad-In-Law's favourite team) in 'Soccer Manager' (you've guessed it, another online, free to play management game) I took the club over 7 games into last season (a season lasts about half the length of the normal 'real life' season with two games per week) when they were rock bottom with 2 points from 7 games. I sold a few duffers, signed Crouch, Felipe Melo and Von Bronkhorst (to name but a few) and turned things round to the extent that they missed out on a play-off spot by a goal difference of 1!

The new season starts on Sunday and the virtual message board tells me that my chairman expects promotion this season. I'll see what I can do.................

As if that wasn't enough, I have taken on a second 'Soccer Manager' club, Brighton and Hove Albion, who incidentally are 'playing' as I write this so I must scarper.

I just want to say that my involvement in these games (all thanks to the persuasive skills of my fine friend The Prof) has been a great way of keeping in touch with a whole load of great friends and colleagues who were once a very major part of my life, and even if it is just the occasional 'I'll whup your arse in the replay' sent via private message(which is no subsitute to the few pints and nappy night at Empire like in the old days), at least it's some contact and that's always better than none.

Aaaah - good old days with good old boys.

Col