It feels a little odd, but I know I’m not the only one dangerously close to pulling the trigger on a chunky CD box set…in 2023. ‘Written In Their Soul: The Stax Songwriter Demos’ is a seven-disc collection that lifts the lid on some of the work from the label’s in-house creative team and beyond, offering early glimpses of classics or belatedly presenting what might have been. I’ve been dipping in via Qobuz - there’s also a sampler on the cover of this month’s Mojo - and it’s so obviously sensational. Here’s a treat from William Bell, ‘What Did I Do Wrong?’, followed by a corker from Carla Thomas, ‘Sweet Sensation’.
I’ve only played this a few times, while proof-reading this week’s missive, but it’s pretty clearly something special - so, in it goes. Shot on 16mm film, it’s the video for Dublin-born singer songwriter Rachel Lavelle’s superb ‘Let Me Unlock Your Full Potential’. At first, it seems quite floaty and gentle but play it again and focus in on all of the wonderful stuff going on across the soundstage. You might recognise her voice from Villagers’ excellent ‘Fever Dreams’ album. Give it your undivided attention. Majestic.
Like many, I drank deep from the well of BBC iPlayer coverage from Glastonbury last weekend. It remains remarkable that so many stages are live-streamed, mostly in their entirety, for the duration. As a result, I didn’t watch any of the presented highlights shows which used to be the staple of any couch-based viewing experience. Why sit and wait for two songs from the act you were interested in when a quick rewind will give you their full hour from earlier in the day? Friday delivered the triumphant performance by Sparks, who pitched it just right for a festival crowd. Knowing what to play, in what order and how is quite the trick at events like this. The Arctic Monkeys didn’t seem to get it on the first night, whereas the Manic Street Preachers showed their pedigree in such matters on Saturday evening.
I loved the nostalgic Northern Soul-tinged Lightning Seeds set from Friday and was quietly blown away by Weyes Blood on Sunday. Carly Rae Jepsen didn’t disappoint, finding a connection with her crowd almost instantly, and the Lana Del Rey performance was hugely absorbing even if her timekeeping is somehow worse than that of Guns N’ Roses. I watched a little of Royal Blood, but it made me sad and I needed Young Fathers to reignite my spirit. The Hot Chip performance from Friday was masterful and a fine reminder of just how much quality lies in their catalogue. Jockstrap, Gabriels and Speakers Corner Quartet are all worth watching from the ‘Hidden Gems’ section and don’t forget Lizzo.
I knew Rick Astley would be great and I tuned into his Saturday lunchtime slot on the Pyramid Stage safe in the knowledge I would be entertained. It was joyful stuff, without a hint of cynicism from a man who knows exactly how to take his chance. I tweeted at the time that it would be worth catching his second, vaguely secret set with Blossoms later that day, as they were reprising their tribute act to the music of The Smiths. And didn’t that deliver? Having watched a few clips from their previous work together, I knew it was the real deal, but it was one of those ‘in the moment’ performances that the festival can throw up. If you’ve not yet seen it, you should put that right. I’m planning a re-watch later.
Misc-Cogs
Shake your phone when in the Discogs app for a random selection from your collection. That’s what I do each week for this bit.
Well, here’s a curious Bowie blast from the past. Almost twenty years ago now, this endearing mash-up of ‘Rebel Rebel’ and ‘Never Get Old’ from 2003’s 'Reality’ album circulated online before receiving an actually-not-entirely-shit picture disc release. As well as the original mash up, by Mark Vidler of the ubiquitous Go Home Productions, the creator also provided two further remixes of the project. ‘Days’, from the then-current record, is appended to these to round out the 12”. Neil Devine, then at masterpiece, delivered a decent cut and the surface noise is at the lower end for this scourge upon the vinyl format.
Given that the remixes add little - as is often the case when something is essentially retooled by the same person - and the bonus track was already available on the album, it all hinged on the three-and-a-half-minute creation. ‘Never Get Old’ is a fine Bowie track in its own right with its swaggering rhythm, neat harmonies and expansive guitar effects. His cry that “I’m never ever gonna get old,” takes on an almost unfair weight of retrofitted significance in light of what would follow. It was sped up quite significantly to the point just before it would have been ridiculous, a route one beat was deployed and then the ‘Rebel Rebel’ riff got grafted on to form the backdrop for the chorus. It really works. Neither song is bettered by this new endeavour, so it remains a bit of fun, but it speaks to Bowie’s willingness to not take himself too seriously and embrace cultural trends. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but he was quite prescient about the internet.
Everyone has oddities and non-essentials in their collection from which they derive an almost irrationally high amount of pleasure and this is one for me. It takes me right back to a time where I had spent several years falling head over heels for this man’s catalogue and was hoovering up anything I could find. ‘Rebel Rebel’ has long been one of my favourites of his, but that didn’t make me sniffy about this. Remember when we thought mash-ups were pretty much wizardry? ‘Reality’ hadn’t quite cut through as ‘Heathen’ did, he was delivering a very well received tour and seemed rehabilitated in public affections after the hard graft of the Nineties. The artwork may be cheesy, but it spoke of an artist fully at ease with the dual process of evolving and finding new joy in old magic.
First Look
Out of the ashes of Unrest came Air Miami. Bridget Cross and Mark Robinson stayed united and added Mike Fellows and Lauren Feldsher. After a couple of cassette only releases, they delivered their sole full album, ‘me. me. me.’, in 1995. 4AD and TeenBeat have remastered it from the original tapes and now present it as a 2x45rpm set on ‘Floridian Aqua and Orange Vinyl’. Three additional tracks from the sessions have been added to the mix too. Fancy the look of it? You can pick it up on July 28th.
While my experience of their bowel-loosening bass levels when witnessing them as a support act left me somewhat lacking in love for The Cooper Temple Clause, there will be those who are delighted at the news of a first proper vinyl release for their 2002 debut, ‘See This Through And Leave’. Originally, it received a 7” boxset edition - that most infuriating of formats - but you can now experience it as a 2LP set, mastered by Phil Kinrade and cut by Barry Grint at AIR Mastering. It’s out at the start of August and the discs are, refreshingly, black.
Something for the ‘read all the way to the end’ folk
2007’s ‘Sky Blue Sky’ was a lush and mature Wilco record which captured a band with nothing to prove and a confidence born of having made it through trickier times. Unfortunately, such confidence resulted in the somewhat undercooked and surprisingly forgettable ‘Wilco (The Album)’ in 2009. I feared that this was it: the start of the slow descent into mediocrity and middle aged chug. Thankfully, they acted quickly to regain their sense of purpose with 2011’s ‘The Whole Love’. It proved to be right up there with their still increasingly numerous highlights, just without the drama of being dropped or filmed dramatically in black and white. Admittedly, it hasn’t ended up on my all-time list like the first record I mentioned, but every so often I come across it in the racks and wonder why I don’t play it more.
Inhabiting a world somewhere between the emphatic organ-chug of prime Costello - a sound deployed on the excellent first single ‘I Might’ - and the more delicate moments of ‘The White Album‘, classic hooks and sing-song choruses are prominent. ‘The Whole Love’ is a nuanced record which highlights a collective with a stunning grasp of melody and a lyricist no longer at war with himself. Less polished and with a real warmth so lacking on the self-titled outing that preceded it, this is nevertheless an album which asserts its presence from the off.
Album opener ‘Art Of Almost’ emerges from a squall of static into something urgent and convulsing, before finally capitulating to its own strut and swagger seven minutes later. Meanwhile, ensuring that the album’s conclusion is no less stunning than its start, the twelve-minute ‘One Sunday Morning’ (fourteen if you go for the double vinyl) is a lolling, meditative conclusion unlike anything the band has previously recorded. It is plucked into life, the most delicate touches of piano initially underscoring it, before Tweedy appears, seemingly pressed up close to the microphone, gently intoning the vocal. It never gets any more energetic, despite a little xylophone here and the odd floating drone of electric guitar, but that’s not to say it isn’t one of the most beautiful things the band have ever done. Considering its length, the time flies and the utterly gorgeous musical interplay is an absolute joy to take in, time and again.
And that’s without mentioning stone cold classics like the title track, ‘Sunloathe’ and ‘Capitol City’. Having forged a reputation for making sonically adventurous albums only to find aural contentment and a certain cosiness, they appeared to have commenced the ploughing of a particular furrow. However, as demonstrated by their clear enjoyment during incendiary live shows around the release, they were now very much back in the game. It cleared the decks and has allowed them to ebb and flow as they see fit for over a decade since. 2019’s ‘Ode To Joy’ is a beautiful album also, while last year’s ‘Cruel Country’ was very clearly done on their terms. As much as many of us love them, Wilco are still at risk of being too easily overlooked and too frequently underrated. And I managed to write this whole piece without even mentioning ‘Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’.
Oh.