Time for Bertie the dog to pick another of his favourite music Berts... or Burts in the case of this week's star.
I'm sure I can't tell you anything about Burt Bacharach that you don't already know, although I can confirm that he's NOT related to one of my favourite actors of recent years, Ebon Moss-Bacharach of The Bear (soon to play The Thing in the new Fantastic Four movie).
I think we'll just let the music speak for itself today...
The majority of those were written with lyricist Hal David, of course. But he's not a Bertie. Or even a Burty.
If I was forced at gunpoint to choose a favourite recording of a Bacharach composition, it would be this one, which I bought as a 7" single in 1990. I was convinced it made Number One, but clearly I needed to buy a couple more copies, because it was held off the top spot by Timmy Mallet. Oh, the inDignity*!
*I'm particularly proud of that pun. Little things please little minds.
Next week... "For the money, for the glory, and for the fun. Mostly for the money."
Yesterday, we had a picture of Whoopi Goldberg at the top of the post. Today, it's Sean Connery. What do they have in common? Before they were famous, they both worked as bricklayers. Imagine living in a house that Whoopi or Sean built.
In celebration of the humble (but extremely well-paid in a lot of cases) tradespeople, here are ten songs than can build you a house and unblock your drains in one go...
10. Large blob and Scottish monster in abundant supply.
A blob is a Splodge. The monster is from Loch Ness. Abounds means "in abundant supply".
I met up with my former boss a week or so back. There was a work-related reason to do so, but when I told Ben I was meeting her, he screamed at me through the medium of Whatsapp. Why would I want to see someone who caused me so much grief? Well, for one thing, she's moved on now and isn't working at The Bad Place, and I recognise that the pressure she put me under back then wasn't coming from her, she was but the conduit through which shit rolled downhill from upper management. We were able to talk about that and put it behind us, I think, and that was a positive thing.
But the other reason I was willing to see her is that old maxim about never burning your bridges, particularly when it comes to employment. God willing, I'll never have to go back to work in a college again, but if I ever needed to...
All of which got me thinking about songs involving burning your bridges... or not burning them, as the case may be. Let's kick off with Canadian singer Jack Scott, who Dave Marsh of Rolling Stone once called, "undeniably the greatest Canadian rock and roll singer of all time."
The Cravats came from Redditch in 1977, with lead singers Robin Dallaway and The Shend. Now, I'm trying not to be prejudiced against The Shend because his choice of name is frustratingly reminiscent of that muppet from The Irish Band. Not as Edgy though, which is good. You may be interested to learn that the Cravats are still going strong, minus Dallaway, but with the addition of Rampton Garstang on drums, Joe 91 on bass and Viscount Biscuits on guitar. I think they might be the Viz house band.
Now it way well be that you're not actually burning your bridges to cut ties with people you no longer want to associate with. You might just be burning them to keep warm. In which case, can I suggest a nice Cardigan?
Last week, to prove how uncool I am, I included a song by unfairly-reviled New Jersey rockers Bon Jovi. It proved so popular (especially with Ernie, George and CC) that I thought I'd include another one today.
Collective Soul made a brief appearance on the UK charts (at #80 in 1994) with their debut single Shine, and were never seen again. Meanwhile, in the States, they sold enough records to fill their swimming pools with caviar. This was from the same album as Shine...
Taken from the album "Clint Eastwood Sings His Classics" (!) and the soundtrack of the movie Kelly's Heroes... although in the movie, it was performed by these guys...
Can you guess the track that sprang immediately to mind when I first considered this particular idiom?
Me and my mate Rich loved this song when we were 16. I think Rich loved it in an ironic way, because he had a much cooler taste in music than me. I would say that I loved it in an ironic way too, but given what you know about my shameless taste in music then and now, nobody would believe me. There's something about the sea shanty-esque guitar refrain which is both extremely annoying and a hopeless earworm. Even now, when I listen to it, I think, "you shouldn't like this... it's wrong". But then I can't help smiling at the Quo rock their guitars back and forth in time with the music...
This is Gal Gadot, the 21st Century Wonder Woman. Yesterday, we had Linda Carter, the 20th Century version. Wonder Woman is a superhero who traces her origins back to Greek Mythology. And here are ten songs that do the same...
10. Pucker up.
Pogue is an Irish kiss. As in Pogue Mahone, which tells you to kiss my... well, you know the rest.
After completing my Top Ten tribute to the work of Phil Spector on Tuesday evening, I couldn't help but feel like there was something missing. Yes, I'd covered the very best of Spector's own musical output... but what of his legacy? If it hadn't been for his influence, chances are we wouldn't ever have heard any of the songs below... at least not in the way we know and love them.
(As to the photo above, Bruce probably regrets that now almost as much as the ill-advised Ben Affleck goatee.)
Prior to the sessions that produced this, Ring Ring, and other Spector-esque Abba classics, engineer Michael B. Tretow read Richard Williams' book Out of His Head: The Sound of Phil Spector. After that, he layered on the overdubs, and Abba's sound changed forever.
Roy Wood made no secret of the fact that he was aiming to recreate the Wall of Sound on songs like this one and I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday. The kitchen sink was full utilised.
From the opening echo-drenched drumbeats, stolen directly from Be My Baby, there's little doubt that the Mary Chain had been listening to a lot of Phil Spector.
Producers Johnny Franz and Ivor Raymonde set out their stall as the British equivalents to Phil Spector, and this is probably the song that came closest to emulating the Wall of Sound sound. Ironically, it was released in 1966, the same year Spector became demoralised with the music industry following the weaker-than-expected chart performance of his masterpiece, River Deep, Mountain High.
Produced by George 'Shadow' Morton, who aimed to take Spector's sense of melodrama to the next level... and arguably succeeded on tracks such as this and Past, Present & Future. Morton wore a cape in the studio, but - as far as I know - never pulled a gun on anyone.
As much as Jim Steinman stole from Bruce Springsteen, he stole far more from Phil Spector. If Spector created the Wall of Sound, Steinman built another three walls and then a roof on top. Many see this as excess, but it's that very excess that appeals to me in Steinman's work. He might get more respect if he had a little more restraint... but he's all right in my book.
Back in the 90s, record company bosses tried to get Spector to work with Steinman... to produce, of all people, Celine Dion. Spector refused, saying he had no desire to work with, "amateurs, students, and bad clones of yours truly."
Steinman, in typically Steinman-esque fashion, replied, "I'm thrilled to be insulted by Phil Spector. He's my God, my idol. To be insulted by Phil Spector is a big honour. If he spits on me, I consider myself purified."
I'm sure George will have something to say about me placing this at #2, or for choosing it ahead of anything from Pet Sounds, which Brian Wilson described as an "interpretation" of Phil Spector's Wall of Sound production technique. I will freely admit that I consider God Only Knows to be a better song than Good Vibrations (and maybe even my #1)... but God Only Knows doesn't sound as Spectorish to me as this does.
Brian Wilson created Good Vibrations with the aim of portraying his "whole life performance in one track", telling himself, "This is going to be better than You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling". Spector pulled the song apart, saying there was way too much "tape manipulation" and too many edits for it to be a "beautiful" record.
1. Bruce Springsteen - Born To Run
Well, I'm nothing if not predictable, am I?
Producer Mike Appel explains how Bruce came to him before the recording of Born To Run and said, "I’m trying to meld my lyrics with more Phil Spector-type songs and I’d like to use his production values", which Appel then helped him develop.
“Phil’s greatest lesson," Bruce later said, "was that sound, sound, sound is its own language.”
Some time ago (back in March 2018) I started a new series on the blog called Anyone Can't Play Guitar, which was supposed to be an ongoing tribute to my favourite guitar solos. There was only ever one post. I may argue because it couldn't be beaten... although I did intend to follow it with a post about Richard Thompson, the best guitarist I ever saw play live.
The baton may be very dusty, but Rigid Digit just picked it up and ran with it...
RIGID DIGIT’S TOP 10 GUITAR SOLOS THAT DON’T SEEM TO MAKE
THE USUAL BEST OF ALL-TIME LISTS:
Not those 9,473 notes a minute shredding solos so beloved of
poodle-haired rockers who believe Eddie Van Halen is God.
These are (in my mind) perfectly captured moments of musical
brilliance using 6 steel strings and a plank of wood.
And these – brilliant though they are – rarely get the
plaudits they deserve.
This song, like many other Walker Brothers tracks is
dominated by Scott Walker’s moody baritone.
The arrangement and that vocal would usually be enough, but then the solo
arrives and takes the track to another level.
The internet, not always the most reliable of places, cites many options for
the provider of this solo, including Big Jim Sullivan, Jeff Skunk Baxter (later
of Steely Dan), and John Walker- who
was actually a Walker Brother, but what are the chance of a member of a 60s
band actually playing on their own song?
Popular opinion suggests the widdling was by Alan Parker -late of Blue Mink,
and whose guitar work was heard once a week for nigh on 10 years as a member of
CCS who did the “Whole Lotta Love” version that introduced Top Of The Pops
Mick Taylor joined The Stones in 1969 replacing Brian Jones,
and within a month had provided overdubs and guitars for ‘Let It Bleed’ and was
sitting at Number One with “Honky Tonk Women”.
Taylor’s musical chops were never in doubt – he was a member of the Blues
Guitarists' finishing school (John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers) at 16, and is a key
player on the Stones ‘Sticky Fingers’ album.
“Sway” from that album ranks as a high point, but the solo on the album version
of “Dead Flowers”, great though it is, falls just short.Not when played Live however (as seen here) –
Mick Taylor is effectively soloing all the way through the song.It’s cool, laid-back, laconic even, but fills
every gap required to be filled.
With Brian Jones, they were the second greatest pop singles band in the
UK.With Mick Taylor, they were
(probably) the greatest Live Rock n Roll Band standing on a stage.
Hereford may not be the Rock n Roll Capital of the World,
but it did provide half of Mott The Hoople, and three quarters of The
Pretenders.And it was one of those
Pretenders with a blond mane and a Mott The Hoople and Cream fixation that came
up with (on the spot in the studio) this sublime solo which elevates the song
to one of the finest in The Pretenders catalogue.
James Honeyman-Scott died in mid 1982 leaving a legacy of two very good albums
with The Pretenders, containing his intricate guitar work.We will never know if “Kid” was a one-off, or
would there have been more to come?
How many notes does a guitar solo actually need?More than two is surely just an extravagance.
Pete Shelly obviously thought so, providing a bare-bones “cheeky two note
solo”.Any more than that would surely
just inspire boredom in the listener.
Lifted from their first EP, which is held as the first independent single, and
the last Buzzcocks outing before Howard Devoto parted for the more progressive
sounding Magazine (almost denouncing Punk, and inventing Post Punk before Punk
had even got going).Post-Devoto,
Buzzcocks went on to release a string of the finest singles of 1978/79.
Although this may be unfair to Dan members in the early
days, the band was basically Donald Fagen and Walter Becker, plus a supporting
cast.The parent album (‘Can’t Buy A
Thrill’) did feature guitarists Jeff "Skunk" Baxter and Denny Dias as
full time members, but the guitar work on this was supplied by session
guitarist Elliot Randall – a man who has been offered many full time band
positions (The Blues Brothers and Toto to name two) but turned them down to
remain a gun for hire.And with this on
your CV, the work may not be thin on the ground.
(I refer the honourable gentleman back to a previous post on this very blog. - Rol.)
When this track is played on the radio, it always seems to
cut before the solo starts – a real shame that.The solo is an integral part of the song and provides the perfect coda.
Not, as often believed, played by Dave Gilmour (although Gilmour was a key
figure in Kate Bush’s signing to EMI), but supplied by a session guitarist (and
Kate’s now full time band member) who’d previously appeared on Bay City Rollers
records, and would later play with Bucks Fizz.
A sublime solo providing counterpoint to Peter Perret’s
weathered and withered vocals.
John Perry delivers another solo almost the equal on “The Beast” (from the same
debut album), but in the context of this song it lifts it to another level.
They may only be truly known for this one song, but it’s not a bad legacy, is it?
Who said Punk and New Wave should have no guitar solos or standout
musicianship?
Guitar solos usually pop up about 2/3 through the song –
either just after the middle eight, or just after the second chorus.
Not this one – Glen just can’t wait to get it out – one verse and chorus, and
let it out.Oddly placed perhaps (55
seconds in), but lets the song grow and tell the story whilst you’re still
marvelling at the musical dexterity.No
screaming notes, fretboard divebombs, just pure understated brilliance.
See also “Some Fantastic Place” for another example of Tilbrook’s fretboard
dexterity
Think of “Baker Street” and the stand-out memory has to be
the saxophone (not played by Bob Holness, but a great urban myth
nonetheless).But vying for attention is
the minimal, almost-skeletal, understated, yet oh so powerful guitar solo.It’s played so cleanly it could almost be a
squealing Hank Marvin meets Mark Knopfler affair.It is also (apparently) a big influence on
Slash and the basis of the solo in ”Sweet Child O’ Mine”, and once you know
that you can, sort of, hear it.
1. Goodbye To Love – Carpenters (Tony Peluso)
I’m not a fan of the MOR stylings of this lot, and I’m not
going to call this a Guilty Pleasure, but that fuzzed-up Guitar solo is a mighty
fine thing.
He plays it straight first time round (still fuzzed, but basically the melody
line), and then later gives it a bit of welly.
Tony Peluso may not have done anything as notable before or since, but surely
he could dine out on this one solo forever.
And (snobbily?) if it wasn’t for the fact it was for The
Carpenters, this solo would sit alongside the work of Jimmy Page, Eric Clapton,
and (the sainted?) Eddie Van Halen in the list of All-Time Great Widdly Bits.
I've got to hand it to you, RD, that was one fine collection of tunes. Particularly that live version of Dead Flowers. Excellent stuff. I wonder if anyone can beat that...?
(I think that photo was taken during his porn movie days. Not that I've ever seen a porn movie.)
3. Writing this blog... with a debt to Macca.
Writing this blog is my favourite waste of time.
I'm owing Paul.
(Alyson thought this was an answer two weeks ago. A bizarre coincidence, because I'd already compiled this post when she suggested it. I almost said "come back in a couple of weeks".)
Reams will have been written over the past 48 hours about the importance of Scott Walker and his contribution to popular music. From my own perspective, Scott produced 4 peerless solo albums in the late 60s, often featuring what I consider to be the definitive versions of songs by Jacques Brel, but also a strong mix of his own compositions. These four albums played a strong part in the musical landscape of my 20s when my tastes began widening beyond the mainstream. Before that, he produced a run of classic hit singles with the Walker Brothers (not forgetting their 70s revival). After that, he went a bit weird. I tried with albums Tilt and The Drift, but ultimately found them hard going... a bit too experimental. I kept meaning to go back and give them another try, and maybe one day I will.
However, later in his career, when Walker was much in demand as a producer, he brought a glorious orchestral glow to one of my favourite albums of the noughties: We Love Life, the final album by Pulp. I reckon Jarvis owes a lot more than just that to Scott though.
Scott Walker was a classy gent, a unique vocalist, a reclusive figure of mystery and wonder. He could have been a much bigger pop star, but chose a different road. He'll live longer in our memories because of that.
Here are ten of my favourite Scott Walker performances...
Look up melancholy in the dictionary... and wait for the flourish of the string section just before the two minute mark. Classical composition tricks in a "pop" song... and lyrics that redefine heartbreak.
If I understood French, I may appreciate Brel's original versions more. I can listen to them and enjoy them, but the translated lyrics brings these tunes to life for me. That said, I still think Scott's performance and production heightens the drama and comedy of even the Brel originals. Walker + Brel = wow.
A complete kitchen sink melodrama in under 4 minutes - performed with the conviction of an operatic aria. This was one of Scott's earliest compositions... and Jarvis was taking notes.
When he chose to write the tunes himself, Noel Scott Engel could give as good as Brel... or any of the other classic songwriters he chose to interpret. Lyrics such as these would only work with Scott Walker's utter conviction of delivery...
His bloated belching figure stomps He may crash through the ceiling soon The window sees trees cry from cold And claw the moon
Brel rewritten by Rod McKuen. Recorded by Frank Sinatra, Shirley Bassey, Dusty Springfield, Tom Jones... but none of them know heartbreak like Scott does.
This could have been my Number One. Jacques Brel's finest - and funniest - composition given its definitive reading. Yes, the Marc Almond version is great, but I'm sure even Marc would agree that Scott had it nailed.
And if one day I should become A singer with a Spanish bum Who sings for women of great virtue I'd sing to them with a guitar I borrowed from a coffee bar Well, what you don't know doesn't hurt you
