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Rocks In The Attic #153: Stereophonics - ‘Performance And Cocktails’ (1999)

I’m never been a huge fan of this band. I loved this album - and most of its singles - when it came out, but then fame and success seemed to do something to the band, and all of a sudden they started doing really lame stuff like singing Handbags And Gladrags on talk shows, sat moodily on stools.

In other words, they sold out. Their first album set themselves up as a rock band in the vein of early Manic Street Preachers; then this album, their second, pushed them over into the mainstream - mainly because of the five Top-20 singles that were pulled from the album. Unfortunately Performance And Cocktails follows the usual trend that record companies employ - stack all the singles on side one, and stick all the filler on the flip-side.

I don’t think they were even on my radar until I saw them performing Just Looking on TFI Friday. Not a bad song, I thought. I then caught their music video for The Bartender And The Thief, and I was impressed. That song in particular speaks to the rocker in me.

I’m always sceptical about music videos and the role they play in music these days, but the videos they made to promote this album are well worth a watch. The Bartender And The Thief pays homage to the Suzie Q / entertaining the troops scene of Apocalypse Now, Pick A Part That’s New parodies The Italian Job, I Wouldn’t Believe Your Radio does the same for Easy Rider and Hurry Up And Wait takes inspiration from M*A*S*H.

I regret not seeing the band in their prime, supporting Aerosmith in 1999 at Wembley (I went to my first Glastonbury festival instead). I did catch them in New Zealand a few years ago, at the Powerstation - a tiny venue compared to the sort of places they would play in the UK. They might not have played Handbags And Gladrags, and they might have been dressed in leather jackets, but they still played a few too many of their catchy, post-2000, pop singles for my liking.

Hit: Just Looking

Hidden Gem: She Takes Her Clothes Off

Rocks In The Attic #152: Bob Dylan - ‘The Times They Are A-Changin’’ (1964)

Of Dylan’s early albums, this is probably the one most representative of him as a protest singer. Each of the albums that would follow would slowly take him away folk music in general, and towards the pop charts.

There are three things I love about this album. Firstly, The Times They Are A-Changin’ is a fantastic single, and one of my favourites before he went electric. Blowin’ In The Wind always gets selected as the ‘song of a generation’ - mainly because of its resonance (read: vagueness), but in my eyes The Times They Are A-Changin’ is far superior in its relevance to the 1960s.

Secondly, I like the cover. In extreme close-up, Dylan looks almost like he comes from another planet. The vinyl copy I have has a slightly corrugated front cover, which makes it feel nice too.

Finally, I love Boots Of Spanish Leather. I don’t love it as much as Girl From The North Country from the previous album - it’s the same chord progression and finger-picking style - but it’s almost as good. I guess folk music lends itself a little better to being able to mix and match lyrics to chord progressions - at least more than traditional pop music does - and at least if he’s stealing from somebody, he’s only stealing from himself.

Hit: The Times They Are A-Changin’

Hidden Gem: Boots Of Spanish Leather

Rocks In The Attic #151: The Rolling Stones - ‘The Rolling Stones No.2’ (1965)

The first three Stones album are very similar - in that they’re basically a run through of the band’s favourite R&B covers. They manage to inject a bit more of themselves into this, their second attempt, and unlike their debut which only has one original song, this features three Jagger / Richards compositions.

I now can’t listen to Time Is On My Side without thinking of the song’s focus in the Denzel Washington film Fallen. It’s a great song, and takes on a strange, other-worldly feel from its use as an identifier of evil in the film. If Fallen was a truly bad film, I’d be annoyed at its inclusion, but it’s one of those popcorn movies that I’m always glad to watch when it shows on TV.

The Stones pretty much drift through their first album, and most of this one, before putting a foot wrong. Their version of Under The Boardwalk on the second side of ...No.2 really stands out as a misstep, with a weak sound that doesn’t suit the band. This probably comes from an attempt to ape The Drifters’ version as closely as possible, but to me it sounds as wrong as The Beatles’ version of Gerry & The Pacemakers’ How Do You Do It?

Hit: Time Is On My Side

Hidden Gem: I Can’t Be Satisfied

Rocks In The Attic #150: The Jimi Hendrix Experience - ‘Axis: Bold As Love’ (1967)

Ten reasons why I love this album:

1. The Songs

Of the three studio albums released by Hendrix before his death, this comes across as the most personal. Are You Experienced is hook-driven and full of perfect three-minute pop songs, Electric Ladyland finds Hendrix immersed in the New York scene of barflies and hangers-on, but Axis catches him in full songwriter mode.

Hendrix’s lyrics are often overlooked, but he can really paint a picture with words. Axis showcases his love of science-fiction and his vivid imagination on tracks such as Spanish Castle Magic and Little Wing. Other songwriters can sound banal when they tell a story with lyrics - Paul McCartney commonly makes this mistake - but Hendrix seems to effortlessly get you on his side. His lyrics for Wait Until Tomorrow and Castles Made Of Sand are heartbreaking, and far from the sort of expectations set by the simplistic tone of Fire and Foxy Lady only a matter of months prior.

2. The Guitar Sound

I love the fuzz on Hendrix’s guitar throughout Are You Experienced.  The fade-in to Foxy Lady has to be one of the best sounds captured on a rock album - but Hendrix playing a clean tone on his guitar is even better. Thankfully this album is full of it.

The introduction to Little Wing is stunningly beautiful, and wouldn’t be quite the same if there was any overdrive involved. There’s a big difference between playing a guitar to chug away on some barre chords, and using it as a virtuoso instrument. It’s a really delicate piece, complimented perfectly by the addition of a glockenspiel - something that would usually be very much out of place on a rock album.

When I started learning to play the guitar, the first music book I bought was Electric Ladyland - there’s nothing like throwing yourself into the deep end. I didn’t last long with the book - I think I sold it to a friend as it was far too advanced for my skill level at the time. It always rankled me though, and eventually learning to play Little Wing gave me the confidence to go back and learn some of his other songs. I can play Hendrix’s stuff on the guitar reasonably well, but there are always a million subtleties that I overlook.

3. The Cover

If there’s one thing I hate about the late-‘60s, it’s the look associated with psychedelia. When The Beatles jumped on the bandwagon with Sgt. Pepper’s, they brought that look to a worldwide commercial level. People rave on about how timeless the Sgt. Pepper’s sleeve is, but I can’t stand it. It’s garish and like most record sleeves of that time, it dates it to a period when designers could get away with murder - as long as they painted their criminal efforts with as many colours as they had available to them.

The Sgt. Peppers sleeve is probably to blame for opening the doors of possibility for a number of visual crimes - The Rolling Stones’ terrible Their Satanic Majesties Request and Cream’s vomit-inducing Disraeli Gears immediately spring to mind. One other album sleeve to be thrown into that mix is Axis: Bold As Love. Quite simply though, I love it.

Rumour has it that the record company found out about Hendrix’s Cherokee ancestry. This got lost somewhere in translation, and the subsequent cover featured Hendrix amidst the wrong kind of Indians.

I’m sure most people would argue that the cover is just as offensive, wild and garish as anything produced around those times, but I truly see it as a piece of art - one of the nicest gafefold sleeves in my collection.

4. The Drum Intro To Little Miss Lover

Mitch Mitchell is oft-overlooked for his contribution to rock music. John Bonham and Keith Moon are always seen as the best drummers from the late ‘60s and early ‘70s, but Mitchell is a master player. He just suffers from having his parts overshadowed by Hendrix - and what a problem to have.

One of his standout moments across all three Hendrix studio albums is this funk-driven introduction to Little Miss Lover. Unfortunately, it’s so good that somewhere along the way it caught the ears of the Master of Mediocrity, Noel Gallagher - who used the sample as the basis for Fuckin’ In The Bushes from their Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants album.

This meant that for a distinct period of time, Oasis fans claimed themselves a bit of credibility because of the Hendrix connection. I already despised Oasis and their legion of numbskull fans; I loathed them even more now.

5. Walking Down The Aisle

When I got married in 2011, my wife walked down the aisle to Little Wing.

In the weeks running up the wedding, she couldn’t decide between that and Led Zeppelin’s Over The Hills And Far Away. She wanted both played at the wedding - one to walk down the aisle to, and the other to walk back up the aisle to, as a married couple.

I convinced her that Little Wing worked much better as a down-the-aisle song, as the section in Over The Hills And Far Away where the bass and drums kick in, a minute and a half into the song, seemed more apt to mark a joyous occasion.

The beautiful Little Wing was used to soundtrack a beautiful moment.


6. Fulfilling The Record Contract

Hendrix was tied to a really bad record contract from day one, and never really made any money before he died. His estate now makes millions off his name, and it’s sad that his business affairs were always in such dire straits during his short tenure as a rock star.

The initial contract Hendrix signed with Track Records tied the Experience to release two LPs during 1967. Are You Experienced had already landed in May of that year, so surely another release would be of an inferior quality. Most bands would knock something out quickly, but Hendrix turns around and delivers a masterpiece.

7. Three Copies And Counting

Of all the albums in my vinyl collection, this is the one I own the most copies of. I bought two second hand copies while I was still living in Manchester - neither of which had a gatefold sleeve. About a year ago I bought brand new copy of the 2010 reissue from Real Groovy in Auckland. This is a heavyweight vinyl release, and also features the full gatefold sleeve, together with a booklet containing photos and an essay on the album.

You can say what you want about the Experience Hendrix releases - yes, they may be cashing in on Hendrix - but they’re supremely well packaged, and give his music the justice it deserves. If you don’t like the endless re-releasing of his albums, don’t buy them. It’s that simple.

8. The Production.

Electric Ladyland, would perfect the direction that Hendrix wanted to go but his first soundscapes came along on the title song of Are You Experienced, and were cemented here on Axis.

The wall of rolling feedback that symbolises the sound of a UFO taking off, on the album’s comedic opener EXP, leads the way into a set of songs where production really is as important as the songwriting. Axis would be the second and final album that Hendrix would record with Chas Chandler on production duties, and you definitely get a feeling that these sessions were fun. Electric Ladyland, on the other hand, can sound very serious at times and just a bit too heavy. Man.

9. The Font.

Hendrix’s handwriting is easily identifiable- his handwritten lyrics happily pop up all over the liner notes of the Experience Hendrix releases.

This font of his handwriting style cleverly takes the name of the album - Axis Bold.

10. Spanish Castle Magic.

Purple Haze, Foxy Lady and Fire always get their dues when it comes to their place in the rock riff canon. For some reason, Spanish Castle Magic gets lost in the dust.

It has a wealth of riffs - the stuttering overdrive of the intro, the main arpeggiated riff, and the descending, syncopated power-chords of the verses all combine to provide a really heavy guitar assault.

Hit: Little Wing

Hidden Gem: Bold As Love

Rocks In The Attic #149: Various Artists - ‘Walt Disney’s Original Soundtrack Collection Vol. 2’ (1964)

Q: What's the difference between Bing Crosby and Walt Disney?

A: Bing sings, but Walt Disney.

Hit: Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious (from’ Mary Poppins’)

Hidden Gem: He’s A Tramp (from ‘Lady And The Tramp’)

Rocks In The Attic #148: Peter Frampton - ‘I’m In You’ (1977)

This is a pretty star-studded recording - Stevie Wonder, Mick Jagger and Ringo Starr all pop on this album in various guises. I guess when you release a successful album like Frampton Comes Alive!, your next album is always going to attract attention from certain quarters.

Frampton Comes Alive! was one of the first records I ‘borrowed’ from my Dad’s collection - and like most people, I know that album much better than his studio albums.

It seems that ...Alive! was Frampton’s peak - and all that remained for his solo career was a slippery slope downhill. The cover of this album says it all - his career is no longer aimed at fans of Humble Pie and classic rock in general; it’s now aimed at the bedroom walls of pubescent teenage girls.

Hit: Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I’m Yours)

Hidden Gem: Won’t You Be My Friend

Rocks In The Attic #147: Bee Gees - ‘Main Course’ (1975)

I’ve always had a soft spot for The Bee Gees (I know they don’t favour the definitive article in front of their name, but it’s grammatically annoying not to slide one in there). We used to live a couple of streets away from where they grew up in Chorlton, Manchester (between them being born on the Isle Of Man and being shipped out to Australia).  They seem to offend a lot of people by their very existence, but I think their early-falsetto output between Jive Talkin’ and the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack are notable enough to ignore their other crimes against music.

I almost went to see Robin Gibb when he played in New Zealand just before he died. I was all set to buy myself a ticket until I read an interview he did to promote the show, in which he claimed that the music of The Bee Gees was more relevant than The Beatles, and had stood the test of time better. By the time I had stopped laughing, the concert had been and gone. I then felt like I’d missed out because he died not long after. In a bizarre twist of fate, newspaper articles over the last couple of weeks have all but claimed that New Zealand killed Robin Gibb - by flying over to play in New Zealand, he missed medical scans which may have prolonged his life.

I recently watched a documentary on the band, and Maurice really comes across as the most affable of the three. Barry really is the alpha lion of the pride, and Robin speaks only when he is given chance, but Maurice actually sounds like a genuinely nice bloke.

Hit: Jive Talkin’

Hidden Gem: Wind Of Change

Rocks In The Attic #146: R.E.M. - ‘Document’ (1987)

Document is R.E.M.’s fifth album, but their first with producer Scott Litt. You can hear how important this addition is, with not only a fantastic sound overall (the album, released on the independent I.R.S. Records comes across like a major label release) but a more channelled direction.

Earlier R.E.M. albums sound to me like a random bunch of Michael Stipe’s poetry set to Peter Buck’s jangly guitar. Here, they sound like a fully fledged band, readily placed on the brink of mainstream crossover.

Hit: The One I Love

Hidden Gem: Finest Worksong

Rocks In The Attic #145: Blondie - ‘Blondie’ (1976)

Whenever I listen to a band’s debut album, and the material on there isn’t really representative of their later work, I always think back to an interview I heard once with John Peel. He was explaining why his musical tastes were drawn to the obscure and away from the mainstream. To paraphrase, he said that a band’s debut is essentially their most concentrated output, and that any subsequent albums are diluted attempts to rehash earlier glories, influenced greatly by record company involvement or, even worse, the fans.

In most cases, I agree with him. But you have to bring a degree of common sense to the party. Anybody who thinks that the first R.E.M. album, Murmur, is their finest achievement would be deluded. Or U2’s debut, Boy. There are many bands who just don’t get going properly until they’re a few albums into their career - R.E.M. and U2 are extreme examples I think, but the same can be said for Blondie.

This is in no way the ‘best’ or even the most interesting Blondie album. Rip Her To Shreds, or Rip Her To Shreads as it is mistakenly spelled on the album sleeve, is the only song on here that stands up to their later output.

Hit: Rip Her To Shreds

Hidden Gem: X Offender

Rocks In The Attic #144: Joni Mitchell - ‘Blue’ (1971)

This is one of those classic albums that is so well-known, but for all the right reasons. There is no pop hit on this album that might bring the casual listener to it, like Big Yellow Taxi on the earlier Ladies Of The Canyon. It’s hard then to decide what is the hit and what is the hidden gem on this album. I’d say All I Want has to be the hit. As the first song, this really says ‘Blue’ to me, more than any other song on the album, even the titular song. For a hidden gem on the album, I could pretty much choose every track. I’ve opted for California as I really like the super-slow fade-out at the end of the song, with Mitchell singing against Sneaky Pete Kleinow’s pedal steel guitar (Stephen Stills and James Taylor also play on the album).

Blue was introduced to me through the first series of the Classic Albums TV programme, and it’s remained a favourite ever since. I prefer it to Ladies Of The Canyon as it works much better as one whole piece of work. Whereas Ladies Of The Canyon exists as a collection of songs, Blue is more cohesive with a number of themes that run throughout the album. The style of guitar playing she employs in All I Want and Carey are also highlights for me.

For some reason, listening to this reminds me of driving over Snake Pass, between Manchester and Sheffield. It’s funny that music does that. I’m presuming I was listening to the album during that journey once, and then on a repeat trip my subconscious reminded me of the association and I played it again, further cementing the connection between the two.

Hit: All I Want

Hidden Gem: California

Rocks In The Attic #143: John Barry - ‘From Russia With Love (O.S.T.)’ (1963)

The second Bond film, and John Barry’s first full soundtrack (he had only arranged and conducted the James Bond Theme for Dr. No), this is where the music starts to become a key part in the Bond story. Barry’s brass-laden scores are an integral component of the Bond ‘sound’ and this comes fully formed here, ready for the global spotlight that would be cast on the series during the release of the next film, Goldfinger, one year later.

From Russia With Love is clearly one of the better Bond films, if the not the best one outright, and the soundtrack is notable for the first appearance of the instrumental theme 007, which scores the gypsy camp fight scene in the film. Considered to be the ‘secondary’ James Bond theme, this pops up in several films during Sean Connery’s tenure; and only once since, in 1979’s Moonraker starring Roger Moore.

The vocal version of the film’s title song, sung by Matt Munro, is one of my favourite Bond songs - and it always amuses me to change the word ‘Russia’ to ‘Rusholme’, changing the tone of the song quite considerably from the subject matter of espionage, to a simple love song about a man bringing a curry home for his wife.

Hit: From Russia With Love - Matt Munro

Hidden Gem: 007

Rocks In The Attic #142: AC/DC - ‘Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap’ (1976)

For me, and I’m talking about the international version of the Dirty Deeds album, this is where AC/DC really start sounding like AC/DC. The High Voltage album (again, to take the international release as gospel) sounds like a band searching for their sound, and I guess a few of the songs included here don’t really fit with the AC/DC template - or at least not as much as other songs on the album.

A lot of people don’t like it, but I really like the cover to this album. Designed by Hipgnosis, it’s essentially a stock photo of an American motel, with a range of random everyday people superimposed in the foreground. Those people, for no reason explained anywhere on the cover - or even in the title of the album - have their eyes blanked out with black bars. To make it even stranger, there is a Doberman amongst the crowd, and he doesn’t have a black bar across his eyes. Go figure.

The real gem of this album is Ride On - a slow blues, and for me a career highlight which they never came close to matching. I’d compare it to Since I’ve Been Loving You (from Led Zeppelin III) in that in both cases, the respective bands have endlessly tried to replicate these songs on subsequent releases without reaching those peaks again.

Hit: Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

Hidden Gem: Ride On

Rocks In The Attic #141: Herman Kelly & Life - ‘Percussion Explosion’ (1978)

This is another throwback to my days DJing in and around Manchester. When I started DJing on Friday nights at 38 Bar / The Castle in Oldham, I initially wondered how I was going to fill so much time, from 7:30pm to midnight every week.

I’d heard that a friend of a friend, Danny Buckley - who we would rechristen Danny Beetle - was an aspiring DJ, so I roped him into playing for an hour or so each week. It was probably very good for me that I did this. Danny opened my ears to many different types of music that I never would have unearthed myself.

One such example is Dance To The Drummer’s Beat, by the ‘70s Miami band Herman Kelly & Life. This track really grooves, punctuated throughout by an overdose of cowbell which, to borrow a phrase from the liner notes, sounds like a ‘beautiful, twitching, ticking musical time bomb’.

Hit: Dance To The Drummer’s Beat

Hidden Gem: Do The Handbone

Rocks In The Attic #140: Simple Minds - ‘Once Upon A Time’ (1985)

Shouldn’t a U2 tribute act actually play U2 songs? What’s the point otherwise?

Hit: Alive And Kicking

Hidden Gem: Sanctify Yourself 

Rocks In The Attic #139: Paul Simon - ‘Graceland’ (1986)

I recently watched Under African Skies, the documentary about the recording of Graceland which has been touring the film festival circuit over the past 18 months or so. The film marks the 25^th anniversary of the album’s release, and has the usual talking heads interspersed with archive footage from the recording sessions.

One of the big talking points was Simon’s stealthily assembled recording sessions in South Africa, bypassing the cultural boycott of the country imposed by the ANC. It’s funny that the music industry often criticises Queen for playing concerts in South Africa at this time (a topic that really annoys Brian May when brought up in interviews), yet Paul Simon is almost universally applauded for collaborating with South African musicians and recording part of this album there. Did he collaborate or did he exploit them? He seems to have given co-writing credit wherever it’s due, but surely he seems to have become much, much richer - both financially and artistically - than them as a result.

I’m not sure which side of the fence I sit, and I don’t really like to tarnish art with politics, but the whole thing reeks of a certain duplicity. What isn’t in doubt is whether this is a good album or not. I think it’s fantastic, and it’s a refreshing change from the sludge of mid-‘80s solo albums released by rock stars from the ‘70s. I’ve loved the album ever since I saw it covered during the first series of Classic Albums. It quickly became a favourite, throughout college and university, and I’d always try to push onto other people.

If I had any criticisms at all, it would be the title of the song that lends its name to the album. Although it’s a fantastic song, and one of the album’s highlights, it just doesn’t fit right hearing about America, New York City and Elvis’ home when the rest of the album is so rooted in South Africa - both lyrically and musically. In the documentary Under African Skies, Simon recounts that it also didn’t make sense to him at the time, and that he always meant to the change the title of the song at least, but that no matter what he tried he just couldn’t change those words that fit so well. Perhaps it’s the counterpoint, between the subject matter of America and South Africa that actually makes it so interesting.

A couple of years ago I went to see Simon & Garfunkel in concert. I don’t know what I was expecting but they totally exceeded my expectations, and to this day it remains one of the best gigs I’ve been to. Halfway through their set, Paul Simon walked offstage for a short break while Art Garfunkel remained on stage with the band. I started to lose interest after he followed a fantastic version of Bridge Over Troubled Water with a new song he had recently written. Right then, as my guard was down, and I thought I’d witnessed the peak of their performance with songs like Old Friends and The Sound Of Silence, Paul Simon walked back onstage to do his solo piece and give Garfunkel a short break. He walked out to the middle of stage and pointed across to the piano-accordionist that had suddenly appeared, who in turn started the opening notes to The Boy In The Bubble. I’d never have believed I would have seen Paul Simon perform this song, so it was a very happy and welcome surprise.

Hit: You Can Call Me Al

Hidden Gem: The Boy In The Bubble

Rocks In The Attic #138: The Doobie Brothers - ‘The Doobie Brothers’ (1971)

I’ve always loved The Doobie Brothers because of Tom Johnston’s songwriting, but it wasn’t until I saw them live that I realised that Pat Simmons and his fingerpicking style is just as important to the band’s sound.

Simmons’ fingerpicking is most notable on their later hit single Black Water, but it’s all over this album. The interplay between what he brings to the table, together with Johnston’s voice and second guitar, really is the sound of The Doobie Brothers.

This debut is incredibly laid-back and it’s almost hard to believe that this band would go on to record some really big hits throughout the ‘70s. They almost sound too chilled-out to orchestrate anything as contrived as a pop single, and perhaps that’s more the influence of producer Ted Templeman than anything else. 

Hit: Nobody

Hidden Gem: Chicago

Rocks In The Attic #137: The Joe Perry Project - ‘Let The Music Do The Talking’ (1980)

I’d like to say this is better than anything that Aerosmith was doing in 1980 - because Joe Perry is Aerosmith, right? - but it’s really not. It sounds like a solo album from just one aspect of Aerosmith, which of course is what it is. As much as I love Joe Perry - and regard him as the most kick-ass part of Aerosmith, this album really proves that he is just one element of that band, and that on his own he has trouble reaching the same peaks.

This album was released after Joe Perry left Aerosmith - following a backstage arguement involving spilt milk, of all things - and put together relatively quickly compared to the marathon recording sessions that were plaguing Aerosmith at the time.

It’s pretty cheesy, but I love the album cover. The front has a photograph of Joe, guitar slung over his back, delivering the master tape to a board meeting of executives sat across a ridiculously large glass conference table. The rear cover has a shot of Joe, sat at an ornate desk in near-darkness like a private detective, cigarette in hand, overlooking 8”x10” black and white photographs of his band. Love it!

Hit: Let The Music Do The Talking

Hidden Gem: Shooting Star

Rocks In The Attic #136: Huey Lewis And The News - ‘Sports’ (1983)

There’s an amusing spelling mistake on the cover of this album. You don’t tend to see typos like this on album covers, and probably for a good reason given the amount of money it takes to get an album out, and the considerable sum it is then expected to make back. On the album credits, the album is listed as being ‘recored’, instead of ‘recorded’ by Jim Gaines. Oh dear, I’m sure a young executive at Chrysalis Records felt the heat the day this record was pressed.

In the wake of Back To The Future, and their hit-single The Power Of Love, Huey Lewis And The News were my favourite band - at least for a few years until they fell of my radar and were replaced by the 1987 version of Michael Jackson. To my ears at least, their brand of rock n’ roll doesn’t sound too dated - even though on paper they should.

Any rock album of the mid-‘80s, especially one with saxophone and keyboards, runs the risk of now sounding irrelevant, but on this album, and it’s follow up, Fore!, they don’t sound too bad. Huey Lewis’ vocals soulful vocals definitely help, but perhaps it’s also because of Lewis’s background with ‘70s San Fransisco band Clover, and the fact that he was already an established recording artist, working through the ‘80s, not as a product of the ‘80s, and able to cleverly sidestep any of the now-dated clichés from that decade. I’m sure that the fact that this album was self-produced didn’t hurt either - away from the influence and gimmickry of the latest hot-shot ‘80s producer.

Hit: I Want A New Drug

Hidden Gem: Bad Is Bad

Rocks In The Attic #135: Pink Floyd - ‘Meddle’ (1971)

My favourite Pink Floyd album changes all the time. When I first started listening to them, Meddle was easily my favourite as it didn’t come prepackaged with a load of hype and expectancy like their later albums. I’d say the same for the Obscured By Clouds soundtrack too - another hidden gem in their back-catalogue.

You can hear the beginnings of Dark Side Of The Moon on Meddle too, in the close-knit harmonies of David Gilmour and Rick Wright’s vocals. If they hadn’t recorded Dark Side, and instead gone on to record umpteen albums like Meddle, I’d be a very happy man; but I’d also be very sad at losing Dark Side, Wish You Were Here, Animals and The Wall from that parallel universe.

Right now, and for maybe the past year or so, Wish You Were Here has been my favourite Floyd album.  That doesn’t mean I still don’t enjoy Meddle though. I love its laid-back attitude, and the low-key approach to the song choices - as though they just recorded what seemed to fall out of them at the time. I also like the fact that they decided to fill one side of the record up with just one song - albeit a 23-minute song.

In terms of album covers, it might be one of their most overlooked, but I love it. On the outside cover, a super close-up photograph of a human ear, overlaid with a lighting effect projected onto ripples of water; on the inner gatefold, a warts and all black and white shot of the band - essentially just a photograph, but one of my favourites.

Hit: One Of These Days

Hidden Gem: A Pillow Of Winds

Rocks In The Attic #134: The Kiki Dee Band - ‘I’ve Got The Music In Me’ (1974)

I’m a big fan of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart, Dee’s duet with Elton John, but other than hearing that song thousands of time throughout my life, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything else by her. I picked this up from my Dad’s record collection - I can’t imagine my Dad listening to this, so it might actually have belonged to my Mum. Either that, or it was a gift from a well-meaning friend.

The link with Elton John seems a match made in heaven, as this album, which came a full two years before that duet, is very much from the same stable of good-time, honky-tonk, mid-‘70s music that Elton was known for at the time. The album is on Elton’s Rocket Records, so maybe that explains the similarity in sound.

Her choice of material might not be the most ground-breaking, but Dee has a cracking voice. On the slower songs like Someone To Me and Water, where she has some space and isn’t merely singing to keep up with the band, she sounds scarily like a close relative of Karen Carpenter.

Hit: I’ve Got The Music In Me

Hidden Gem: Water

Rocks In The Attic #133: The Honeydrippers - ‘The Honeydrippers: Volume One’ (1984)

Imagine a band with Robert Plant on vocals, and Jimmy Page, Jeff Beck and Nile Rodgers all on guitar. That’s who The Honeydrippers are. Put together in the early ‘80s by Atlantic Records president Ahmet Ertegün, this is a very short (17 minutes) collection of five ‘50s R&B covers.

As a standalone album, it’s pretty poor. It suffers from a mid-‘80s production, which takes away any of the smoky ‘50s atmosphere they were aiming for, and replaces it with a crystal-clear sound reminiscent of throwback records of the time. It might have gone down a little better if it had been released a year later, in the wake of the ‘50s nostalgia stemming from 1985’s Back To The Future, but other than a very successful single (Sea Of Love), it seems to have faded into history.

For a Zeppelin fan, it’s a nice little curio - Plant and Page reunited on record for the first time since the death of John Bonham, with Page’s fellow Yardbird Jeff Beck thrown in for good measure. Rounding out the ‘supergroup’ is Nile Rodgers on guitar (and production duties) and Blues Brother Paul Shaffer on keys.

It’s a shame this project was never repeated. I’d have been interested to hear volumes two, three and four. Although maybe they wouldn’t have given the fourth one a title.

Hit: Sea Of Love

Hidden Gem: Rockin’ At Midnight

Rocks In The Attic #132: Deep Purple - ‘Machine Head’ (1972)

This album kicks ass. It was recorded in Montreux, Switzerland, using the Rolling Stones mobile studio. That particular piece of equipment was responsible for some landmark albums throughout the ‘70s, and this is definitely one of them.

Everybody knows the opening guitar riff to Smoke On The Water, but beyond that first minute or so, it’s a really soulful piece of music, considering it’s supposed to be the blueprint for heavy metal. The lyrics shouldn’t work either. Imagine a heavy rock song released in the 21^st century, where the lyrics recount the inspiration, and the subsequent recording of the song. It sounds terrible - a band resigning themselves to banality because they can’t come up with any original ideas; but everything about Smoke On The Water is awesome.

History - and every guitar magazine on the planet - would have you believe that Ritchie Blackmore is the hero of this album - but Jon Lord’s keyboards really steal the show for me (with Ian Gillan’s vocals a close second). The organ work throughout the album is superb - through the prog rock workouts of Highway Star and Lazy - and that’s coming from a man who usually thinks organs belong in church.

Hit: Smoke On The Water

Hidden Gem: Lazy

Rocks In The Attic #131: The Jam - ‘Snap!’ (1983)

Another greatest hits package purchased purely for its use in my DJ bag, this album takes me over the 100 hour mark on this blog. 100 hours of music - what a wonderful way to drown out the rest of life’s noises.

I’ve never been - and never will be - a fan of The Jam. I think this mainly stems from my dislike of Paul Weller, but as a band they’re more lyrical than musical (even though musically they’re fantastic) and that just doesn’t gel with me. With Weller’s scatter-gun lyrics, I always feel like I’m not in on the joke - he’ll cram a song with lyrics and I just get overwhelmed. Don’t get me wrong, I regard myself as being relatively literary - I always have a book or two on the go at any one time, and I’m not talking about Dan Brown or Fifty Shades Of Grey here - but when it comes to music, my ears are tuned to the sounds coming out of the instruments, not the words coming out of the singer’s mouth.

I can’t deny that there are some fantastic songs on this record. Going Underground, Town Called Malice, That’s Entertainment and the Beatles-stealing Start! are probably their biggest hits, and they would put a smile on my face any day of the week.

Hit: Town Called Malice

Hidden Gem: English Rose

Rocks In The Attic #130: Guns N’ Roses - ‘G N’ R Lies’ (1988)

I’ve never been overly enamoured with this album. It’s yet another shocking record company cash-in, something to keep the tills ringing between the success of Appetite For Destruction and their follow-up studio albums. Half of the album is made up of previously released material - four songs from the pre-Appetite EP release Live ?!*@ Like a Suicide - together with four ‘new’ acoustic songs (one is an alternate version of a song from Appetite).

I’ve never been a huge fan of this band. Appetite is a good record, but it’s vastly overrated, and mostly subscribed to by girls who claim to be rock chicks but don’t actually listen to any other rock albums. The Use Your Illusion records have their moments but I have trouble seeing behind their pomposity.

Lies is an odd release, capturing the band live a year before their debut album was released, and then again in the year following the spectacular success of Appetite. The band pays homage to Aerosmith twice on the Live ?!*@ Like a Suicide tracks - namechecking Permanent Vacation in the first song Reckless Life, and then following this with a great cover of Mama Kin.

If you were a fan of Appetite when this was released, it would probably disappoint you, but then again wouldn’t everything else in Guns N’ Roses’ subsequent career?

Hit: Patience

Hidden Gem: Mama Kin (Live)

Rocks In The Attic #129: Blur - ‘Blur: The Best Of’ (2000)

This was an unsurprising release by Food Records. With only one album left on their contract with Food, a greatest hits collection was assembled. This isn’t a new thing in the record industry - although diehard fans of the band may not rush out to buy a batch of songs they already own, the general public will always buy a compilation album in droves, and so it makes economic sense to bring out a ‘best of’ while the opportunity is ripe, rather than release studio album #452.

As a DJ - which I was at the time of this release - it’s always handy to have a collection of hit songs on one disc (or two, in this case), rather than lug a load of albums around for the sake of one or two songs. Still, saying that, this album did open my eyes to some of the other Blur material which I wasn’t familiar with at the time.

Much after the fact, I had discovered Parklife and, subsequently, The Great Escape, while at University. Blur and 13 sort of passed me by, although by this time they were sufficiently on my radar, enough for me to anticipate their singles as they were released.

I’ve been thinking about ‘90s music for a few weeks now, after somebody mentioning what a truly terrible decade for music it was. I guess it’s too early to tell, but will anybody be listening to this sort of thing in 40 or 50 years?

The reason I prefer to listen to older music - specifically from the ‘60s and ‘70s - is that most of the time you can listen to it without having to handle all of the other bullshit that comes with it. It’s almost impossible to listen to a Blur album without thinking about how much of a knobhead Damon Albarn is.

I remember being asked about Blur and Oasis by my sixth-form English teacher in the mid-‘90s. Their rivalry was all over the British press because of the chart race between Country House and Roll With It. He wanted to know who I thought were the better band. This was many years before I would start listening to “Indie” or Britpop music, and I was existing purely on a diet of hard rock and heavy metal at the time, so the question was sort of lost on me. I still stand behind my response back then, which was “Blur, of course, because they’re always doing something different.” The one thing I can always be sure of is that I can happily look back at Oasis’ entire career and proudly declare ‘not guilty’.

When I look back at Blur’s career alongside British bands which I’m sure they’d like to measured against - The Kinks, The Who, The Beatles, The Stones, etc - I’m not sure if they’ll ever be regarded in the same light. Oasis plumbed new depths of mediocrity in the ‘90s, but Blur were simply the best British band of the decade, and I guess that’s all that mattered at the time.

Hit: Song 2Hidden Gem: To The End



Rocks In The Attic #128: The Kinks - ‘Golden Hour Of The Kinks’ (1971)

Another compilation that exists solely in my record collection because it was handy to have in my record bag when DJing.

You have to love The Kinks though - they’re unfairly put to the side when ‘60s beat groups are mentioned. Usually, there’s The Beatles and The Stones, and nothing else. For me, The Kinks fit nicely in the middle between those two bands - they match the songwriting peaks of The Beatles (not as consistently as Lennon & McCartney, but certain songs are the arguably the equal of The Beatles’ singles), but they retain the rough edge (and murky production values) of The Stones.

This particular compilation is pretty poor, however. Their cover of Louie Louie is listed on the sleeve as ‘Lovie Lovie’, which makes you wonder what sort of moron put the sleeve together, when they can misspell one of rock and roll’s universal staples. Secondly, Lola is missing from the collection - even though this was put together a year after that single’s release. It is a budget release though, so Pye Records presumably only allowed the release of their older ‘60s output.

I think more than any other ‘60s band - The Beatles and The Stones included - the template for riff-driven guitar-based rock can be traced back to The Kinks. Dave Davies is a fantastic guitarist in this respect - coming up with short guitar hooks for his brother to write songs around.

During the formation of Led Zeppelin in 1968, Jimmy Page was undecided whether he should form a full-on heavy rock band, or a lighter folk rock band akin to Pentangle. Page played as a session musician on The Kinks’ debut album, and I don’t see it as a coincidence that he then went on to be the flag-bearer throughout the ‘70s for Dave Davies’ brand of riff-based heavy rock.

Hit: You Really Got Me

Hidden Gem: Victoria

Rocks In The Attic #127: Paul & Linda McCartney - ‘Ram’ (1971)

I’m with Moo on this one - mono is pretty pointless. It makes sense if the artist originally mixed it in mono, and intended its release in mono, but most of the time it’s a marketing ploy aimed at audiophiles.

Take this release for example - the limited edition release of McCartney’s second solo album in mono, complete with the most minimal sleeve I’ve ever seen (aside from the scrawl on the top left of the sleeve, the only mention of the album name and artist is on a small slip of paper inside the inner sleeve - it makes the packaging of The White Album look like Sgt. Pepper’s). There’s no reason for it to exist. Mono had been left behind by this point, and all releases were universally in stereo. It exists merely as a curiosity.

However, it’s by a Beatle, it’s a limited collection, and therefore it’s collectable - hence why I bought it. I have the stereo version, with its garish sleeve (possibly the reason this mono release is so minimalist?) and it’s always been a firm favourite. In fact, I swapped my CD copy of the album for the vinyl version back in the late 90s. My Huddersfield friend Dom Beresford had it on vinyl and wanted it on CD. I felt the opposite, so we did a fair trade. The record is forever marked by this transaction - a sticker on the label around the centre of the disc proudly declares it is the property of Kirklees Libraries & Arts.

There’s been a hell of a lot of love for this album of late. It is very good - about a million times better than his hotchpotch debut album; but as much as I love it, and regard it as my favourite McCartney album, it’s not as good as Band On The Run.  I don’t subscribe to the theory that his Wings material is more of a group offering - to me, they’re McCartney albums with a couple of hired hands to play some of the instruments so he didn’t have to play everything.

In terms of the quality of the songwriting here, he matches the strength of his output on Abbey Road. The melodies are strong enough to support an orchestral version of the album - something I’ve been listening to a lot recently. To me, Ram is as strong an album as Imagine - in fact they’d make a killer double album - but it’ll never be as loved by the public as Lennon’s album. There are no big hits, and definitely nothing close to the universality of Imagine’s titular track.

Hit: Uncle Albert / Admiral Halsey

Hidden Gem: Ram On

Rocks In The Attic #126: The Edgar Winter Group - ‘They Only Come Out At Night’ (1972)

Ah, Edgar Winter, my favourite albino multi-instrumentalist.

For about three decades I’d say Frankenstein was the hit of this album. It was a US#1, it’s a truly fantastic song, and remains firmly as one of my favourite instrumentals. However, over the last ten or so years, Free Ride has really emerged as the standout track on this album. I’m not sure why, but it seems to encapsulate the 70s better than Frankenstein does. Frankenstein is just sick, to borrow the common parlance of today, but Free Ride is much more accessible. Ask a teenager today, and I reckon they’ll recognise Free Ride, but not Frankenstein.

I first heard Free Ride on the soundtrack to Richard Linklater’s Dazed And Confused. Since then, I’ve heard it on the soundtracks to countless films - it even popped up on one of the classic rock radio stations on a recent Grand Theft Auto video game. It straddles the fence between 70s pop silliness and edgy, ambiguous progressive rock, with that atmospheric break before the end of the song.

I can’t remember when I first heard Frankenstein though. I remember owning it on the soundtrack to one of the Wayne’s World films, but I’d heard it long before then. I remember having it on cassette at some point in my childhood - and I think I had presumed it was a TV or film theme. It could be really - it fits perfectly alongside those jazzy 70s TV themes by the likes of Mike Post and Pete Carpenter.

Hit: Free Ride

Hidden Gem: Alta Mira

Rocks In The Attic #125: Booker T. & The M.G.’s - ‘Green Onions’ (1962)

I have the 1966 Atlantic repressing of this album, in mono. The sleeve isn’t in great condition, but it’s holding together. I’d like to get my hands on the original 1962 Stax pressing - as this album, the band’s debut, was the very first album released on the Stax label (the three previous offerings of the label were distributed on the Atlantic label).

I love Stax. I recently bought the 7” box-set they brought out for Record Store Day this year, and even though that covers the kind of tracks that most people have never heard, that “lesser” material they were producing is still sweet to listen to 40 years later.

As far as instrumentals go, you really can’t beat Green Onions. It’s got a slightly menacing sound, which I think is why it still sounds fresh today. With that sort of tempo and bass line, it should sound poppy and dated, but they approach it without overcooking it. Booker T. Jones may ham it up on the organ when they play it live, but in the studio he remains composed and gives the track chance to breathe.

Hit: Green Onions

Hidden Gem: Behave Yourself

Rocks In The Attic #124: Alison Moyet - ‘Raindancing’ (1987)

Alison Moyet has never really been on my radar, but for some reason I have both of her first two albums on vinyl. I think her first one, Alf, is courtesy of my Dad’s collection. I must have been passed this, her second album, from somebody else’s vinyl clearout.

I saw Moyet the other night on a television chat show. She looked damn good. I always remember her as being a rather rotund lady, with big drapey clothes, standing like a nightclub bouncer, on Top Of The Pops. In fact, she looked like the female version of Ozzy Osbourne in his tubby post-Sabbath early years. She’s lost all that weight now, and is quite the fox.

Still, this album belongs in 1987, like her waistline.

Hit: Is This Love?

Hidden Gem: Blow Wind Blow

Rocks In The Attic #123: Aerosmith - ‘Permanent Vacation’ (1987)

Although essentially this is where the rot set in for Aerosmith - when they started to employ outsiders as songwriters - this album also marks their revival to the second age of their career. It’s a cracking album - a little too much of its time, so I don’t know how it will sound in 10 or 20 years - but it’s got a level of energy that was unheard of from the band up to this point.

This album also hints at their penchant for novelty songs - Dude (Looks Like A Lady) would soon be joined by the likes of Love In An Elevator and Aerosmith would forever be associated with the crazily titled rock song, and for a whole new generation of rock fans (and subsequent generations), this would be the only thing they would know the band for.

This album - or more truthfully, the promotion for this album - would also be the first time they would have great success with music videos, storming their way into the party held over at the house of the MTV generation (their parents must have been out of town). The videos that accompany this album are all very enjoyable (well, Dude and Rag Doll are - I still can’t take the video - or the song, for that matter - of Angel seriously), and at least the band look relatively young. Young enough not to look too much out of place hanging around with hot chicks half their age (compared to now where they’ll star in videos with hot chicks a quarter of their age - ugh).

Years after first hearing Hangman Jury - the band’s one and only real jaunt into roots music - on MTV Unplugged and loving it, I was lucky enough to see the band play it live in Dublin, with the intro played just by Tyler and Perry on acoustic guitar and harmonica, sat at the end of the ego-ramp, mere yards away from where I stood. Fantastic.

Hit: Dude (Looks Like A Lady)

Hidden Gem: Hangman Jury

Rocks In The Attic #122: The Beatles - ‘Please Please Me’ (1963)

When I first listened to this, the debut album by The Beatles, I used to think it would have sounded pretty revolutionary at the time. In hindsight, you can hear that it’s still got one foot firmly planted in the 1950s. Dylan followed Please Please Me two months later with The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, and that’s like a futuristic text compared to the childlike nature of this album.

This album is notable for a few things. Firstly, the original compositions are attributed to ‘McCartney-Lennon’, not long before the decision was made to reverse the surnames. I heard a few years ago that McCartney was lobbying Yoko Ono to get the rest of their back catalogue changed back to this original song-writing credit. Thankfully it didn’t happen, and anyway, you never know if things like that are even true. I wouldn’t put it past McCartney to try something like this - he obviously waited until George Harrison died to release Let It Be...Naked - but you’d get the impression that after 40 or so years, he’d be content that his name comes last in 99% of their song-writing credits.

Secondly, the album was famously recorded in one day. I don’t really see that as being anything special though. This happens for a lot of bands - especially on their debut albums - and perhaps this should be a rite of passage for bands recording their first batch of songs.

In terms of their song choices though, I do think that there are a few mistakes. Their original songs really sound very good alongside some very odd covers, but maybe that was the intention. There were better covers recorded during the New Years Day 1962 Decca audition (available on Anthology 1), that would have fit better than some of the covers here, and are closer to the standard of covers they recorded on their second album.

Thirdly, Ringo Starr isn’t the only drummer on the album. He’d later be replaced by McCartney on the occasional track later in their career, but here he is replaced by session man Andy White on their prior single, Love Me Do / P.S. I Love You - both sides of which open the second side of the album. George Martin had expected them to turn up to the session with Pete Best (who had played on their first Parlophone session), had told Brian Epstein that he wouldn’t allow Best to play on another session and that he would supply the drummer next time. When The Beatles then arrived with their newly appointed drummer in tow, Ringo was relegated to tambourine. If nothing else, this story confirms that the band was right to fire Pete Best.

All in all, a very simple album that’s very hard not to like. Sometimes that simplicity turns me off, but I also think that’s where most of its charm comes from. The Beatles would produce works of much greater value and innovation, and it wouldn’t take them long.

Hit: Twist And Shout

Hidden Gem: Baby It’s You

Rocks In The Attic #121: John Lennon - ‘John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band’ (1970)

Although this album is starkly minimalist and deals with pain, anger and isolation, I find it to be a really chilled-out album. Of the four debut solo albums by the recently split Beatles in 1970, this is probably my favourite, closely followed by Ringo’s Sentimental Journey. McCartney’s debut is too childlike and home-made; and Harrison’s All Things Must Pass is too self-indulgent, warranting a lengthy amount of time to sit down and listen to it in full.

I can definitely imagine relaxing to this, with a joint, on its release - but like most people I would probably have been a little let down with its unBeatleness. All of the four albums are as removed from The Beatles as possible, with each member trying to escape from that shadow, but Lennon’s album sounds to me to be the furthest away.

Although McCartney’s album sounds like a hastily assembled bunch of demo recordings, Lennon’s album sounds more mature - and even though there is a very minimal arrangement and production, it doesn’t come off as sounding infantile like his former writing partner’s debut offering.

Hit: Working Class Hero

Hidden Gem: Look At Me

Rocks In The Attic #120: Queen - ‘Queen’ (1973)

It’s amusing that the liner notes on this album proudly declare that ‘...nobody played synthesizer’. Despite this claim, it’s sad that a band comprised of such good musicians depended on synths too much in the latter half of their career.

This album, their debut, relies on the heavy metal and progressive rock of their British contemporaries, without a promise of the songwriting genius that Freddie Mercury would become. Brian May is on top form though, machine-gunning riffs to sit between the album’s other highlight - Roger Taylor’s drumming.

Freddie Mercury is resigned to a pretty average vocalist on the album - albeit one with a good operatic range - but again, there’s no hint of what he would become. Although, there are some backing vocals that hint towards the layered harmonies that would later become the trademark Queen sound.

It seems as the band was far more concerned with style over substance at this point in their career - as a telling example, John Deacon is credited on the sleeve as Deacon John because the rest of the band thought it would make him sound more interesting.

The band must have seen something in Seven Seas Of Rhye - probably the strength of the great piano riff - as they include an early instrumental version of it as the last track on this album, before including a more fleshed-out version, including lyrics, as the final track on their second album.

Hit: Seven Seas Of Rhye (Instrumental)

Hidden Gem: Keep Yourself Alive

Rocks In The Attic #119: The White Stripes - ‘The White Stripes’ (1999)

This album, the debut by The White Stripes, is very garage-rock. More so than their slightly more polished and better recorded later albums. The overall sound isn’t that different though - swampy blues rock spelled out with just guitar and drums, underneath Jack’s squealing vocals.

Meg’s drumming seems a bit better on this album, avoiding the mistakes and bad timing that she employs on De Stijl - suggesting they either rehearsed this material a bit more, or that Meg was simply a bit more comfortable with her parts.

De Stijl was their first album I heard, so I’ve always listened to this in retrospect. It lacks the direction that De Stijl has, and like most debut albums it suffers from that feeling of ‘let’s just get everything recorded and worry about everything else later’.

Hit: Stop Breaking Down

Hidden Gem: Do