Louis Eliot’s Rialto were a particular favourite of mine in
the late 90s post-Britpop landscape, mixing Suede’s urban glamour with more
personal, storytelling songs like Monday Morning 5:19
and Summer’s Over.
Although they didn’t really make it in the UK, apparently they were very big in
Southeast Asia, where they even managed to knock Celine Dion off the top of the
album chart. They split up in 2004 when Louis went solo… so I figured there was
as much chance of a new Rialto record this year as there was of Pulp getting
back together.
Neon & Ghost Signs picks up where they left off, as
though the last 21 years never happened. It was never going to win them an army
of new fans, but for anyone who remembers them from the first time round, it
does the job. Although the lead single clearly owes a huge debt to Kylie… but
there’s nothing wrong with that.
15. Todd Snider – High, Lonesome & Then Some
And so we say farewell to Todd Snider, an Americana hero of
mine since the moment I first heard Talkin' Seattle Grunge
Rock Blues when it cropped up on an Uncut CD back in the early 90s.
Todd’s final album, written and recorded while he struggled
with chronic pain due to spinal stenosis, is a rambling, bluesy, low key affair
which I wouldn’t recommend to anyone who’s not sampled his work before. Start
with Songs for the Daily Planet, East Nashville Skyline or 2021’s First
Agnostic Church of Hope and Wonder. For those of us who’ve been with Todd for
the long ride though, it’s his last hurrah, and just as worthy of our time as
anything he’s ever recorded.
14. Kathleen Edwards – Billionaire
Some artists keep reinventing themselves, striving for the
new sound, trying to keep ahead of the crowd. Others take the Tom Petty
template and refuse to tamper with a successful sound, just continue giving the
people what they want. Kathleen Edwards is from the latter camp – the songs on
her 6th album, Billionaire, wouldn’t sound out of place on her 2002
debut record, Failer. (And if half a dozen albums doesn’t sound much for 23
years, bear in mind that she took 8 years off to run a coffee shop in the middle
of last decade.) If you liked any of her previous records, chances are you’ll
find much to enjoy here.
Another week, another big loss to the world of music. When I
messaged Ben that Raul Malo was dead, I didn’t think it’d mean much to a
30-something hipster. But he replied instantly about how Dance The Night Away
was the soundtrack to his childhood summer holidays… which only goes to prove
how powerful music is in cementing those pesky neural pathways in our memory banks.
Mavericks lead singer Raul Francisco MartÃnez-Malo Jr. died
on Monday night after 18 months fighting cancer. He was 60. I’ve got to admit
that back in 1998, at the time of their biggest hit, the Mavericks rather
passed me by. I only came to appreciate them much later, and Raul was the one
who got me to listen again when I heard him deputising for Ricky Ross on the
Another Country radio show a few years back. Malo came across as a warm,
intelligent man with a passion for music, and I found this more and more
evident when I started digging into his back catalogue.
There are big schedule changes afoot at my favourite radio
station, BBC Radio Scotland. For years now, I’ve been listening to late night
shows from that station (and a couple from BBC Radio Ulster) to help me get to
sleep, and to keep my mind from racing when I wake up in the wee small hours.
Radio has always been a big part of my sleep routine, even as a child I slept
with the radio on and if I woke up in the night, it was reassuring to have a
friendly voice there playing interesting music to keep the night at bay.
These days I don’t listen to live radio, but through the
wonder of BBC Sounds, I always have a bank of shows to go to in the night.
Mickey Bradley and Ralph McLean on the Irish station; Iain Anderson, Natasha
Raskin-Sharp, Roddy Hart and Ricky Ross from Scotland. There’s nothing on Radio
2 or 6Music for me anymore. 2 is too mainstream, far too much chance of hearing
U2, Celine Dion and Simply Red. 6Music is too in love with dance music, or more
likely to play something too loud which will wake me up with a hammering heart.
And I can’t listen to commercial radio (what’s left of it) because of the ads
(irony, I know, because I spent a large part of my life writing those bloody
things).
Anyway, Radio Scotland has a new programme controller, and I
lived through enough of those in my time in radio to know that it’s rarely good
news. Most new programme controllers arrive in the job with a mantra of “If it
ain’t broke – fix it”, and so it is at Radio Scotland. Two of my favourite
shows are ending while a third is being shuffled to the weekend in order to
create a new regular late show that will appeal to the 45+ demographic… i.e.
it’ll sound just like Radio 2. I may be prejudging, but I expect we’ll hear a
lot more U2, Celine Dion and Simply Red.
Farewell then to veteran broadcaster Iain Anderson, who's been on Scottish radio since the days of the Ark, but has always been a
reliable place to go to hear the best singer-songerwritery material of the last
60 years. And an even sadder farewell to the wonderful Natasha Raskin-Sharp, a
presenter with a Peel-like commitment to shining light on artists that never
get played anywhere else on the radio. I’ve listened to both their shows for
over a decade now, I’ve welcomed them into my home, they’ve become warm,
stalwart, dependable friends, and I’ve valued the comfort they’ve given me in
the long dark nights of the soul… I fooled myself into thinking they’d always
be there.
There’s a
campaign running to save these shows, to get BBC Radio Scotland to reverse
it’s schedule changes (slated for the New Year), a campaign backed by a lot of
the independent Scottish musicians who have come to rely upon the shows for
airplay. I’ve signed the petition (currently at 15,000 signatures), but I don’t
hold out much hope. Because I’ve worked in radio, and I’ve seen too many good
presenters forced out over the years because the market testing showed audiences
didn’t want individual choice or musical eclecticism.
A week or so before the announcement, Iain Anderson played
my favourite song by Mark Germino, and took a moment to dwell upon its message.
I didn’t understand the significance at the time. I do now.
Now, one day a man in a pinstriped suit Took the owner of the station to a restaurant booth His pitch was simple, “you'll increase your sales “If you only play the song list we send in the mail.” He guaranteed a larger audience Less confusion and higher points “But your drive-time jock won't get to do his thing. “Hey he's not half bad, tell me, what's his name?”
And if you think I chose this band name just so I could use that line... I'll give you 5 stars.
THE CRITICS #1
Starting off today with some reggae from 1970. A double A-side single which
featured Sexy Frankie’s song Tea, Patty, Sex And Ganga on the flip side. Class.
Austrian songwriter Bob Wesling, aka Norbert Daum, aka
Apolleon, aka TT Thumb, was also the man behind these Critics from 1980 (or 1978
if you believe the tube of you) using a disco soundtrack to celebrate the death
of disco. Irony was alive in Austria in the 70s, even if disco wasn’t.
Newcastle based rock band… Newcastle, New South Wales, that
is. Originally active in the early 80s, but the album they recorded in 1982 was
never released… not until 2019, when it finally saw the light of day via the
camp of bands.
And finally today, some LA-based Critics (everyone's definitely a critic in LA!) who have been kicking around since the
beginning of the 20s – already, that’s more than half a decade ago. This is
their most recent offering…
