Ulysses?

In the same way that Noddy and Slade stamped their trademark on the 70s (not to mention Christmas) so too did Roy Wood: forming the Electric Light Orchestra with his mate Jeff Lynne after the demise of the Move, before throwing his lot in with Wizzard, whilst throughout glam (and beyond) keeping one hand on a none too shabby solo career (a bottom drawer permanently stuffed with songs he couldn't find a home for in any of his bands), Wood, in a lot of ways, probably out-Slayed Slade; whereas Noddy shared songwriting duties with bass player Jim Lea and didn't have to worry about going it alone, Roy was writing all the hits for both himself and the band singlehanded. And he applied his own make-up! 

His first solo album, Boulders, released in 1973 comprised songs he'd squirrelled away since the late 60s. It's a beautiful collection and a solo effort in every sense: written by, produced & played by (all instruments with the exception of the harmonium) and he also painted his self portrait on the sleeve. The record is crammed with hits that never were* including one track he'd written for the New Seekers and their stab at Eurovision: Songs of Praise, which made it to the last six of the heats was outvoted in 1972 by Beg, Steal or Borrow. But just take a look at some of the other songwriters on display here - Mike Leander - who co-wrote all Gary Glitter's top 10 hits, Mike Sammes (without his Singers) & Ray Davies - he of the Button Down Brass (not the Kink) to name but three.

A Song for Europe 1972 - 12 February, 1972

* When I said 'hits that never were', I meant with the exception of this gem. I loved it then and I love it still...

Roy Wood - Dear Elaine (1973)

Baby Baby Baby! (It's a Beano Friday)

Welcome to another Be-Bop Friday - slightly rebadged today in honour of one of my best friends. That's Mark (Beano to his buddies) pictured above - the photograph will make perfect sense, I'm sure, by the time you've read his love letter to a band that still make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, some four decades after he first discovered them.

***

"Do you remember your first kiss? Of course you do! Mine was from a girl called Sarah Blackburn, she lived on our street and I would have been maybe 10, fancied her like mad for ages. Likewise, I bet you remember the first band you discovered. I do too, and their music still gives me goosebumps to this day. At one time they were the biggest band around. They reached the dizzy heights of Number 1 no less than six times in the 70s - and remember you needed to sell a million copies in those days to reach the top spot. Three Number One 1 albums followed; one of which is considered up there with the very best live albums ever (I’ve just voted for it in Classic Rock’s best live album poll). 

They made a film too, a proper one, which you went to the flicks to see. It was way ahead of its time and showed the dark side of the music business. Years after its release it would be described by BBC film critic, Mark Kermode as 'the Citizen Kane of rock musicals.' The movie subsequently went on to achieve critical acclaim.

Know who it is yet? Well, Q magazine once described  them as ‘the missing link between Oasis and the Beatles’ - Oasis would go on to record a splendid cover version of one of their hitz and then play it in front of an adoring 60,000 fans at Maine Road, Manchester. But let me guess, you still don't know who it is. (I think we do, Mark! John).

The band is SLADE, and they get little recognition for their considerable input to this great nation’s music scene other than for a certain festive hit. Not that is until you venture into my world: bitten by the bug in the early 80s via one of those compilation albums SLADE Smashes, I couldn’t believe what I was listening too. It was awesome, with that voice hitting you between the eyes like a sledgehammer. The Black Country Boyz even returned to the charts for me, reinvented with Noddy as the Rock 'n' Roll Preacher. Every locker in my school had the words ‘BEANO – SLADE’ plastered all over them: Beano being my nickname (still is, 40 years later) and SLADE being my band. 

Their second coming lasted till the mid 80’s when they were cast aside chart wise, but I still got my fix by going to Slade related TV shows & and conventions - attended by the Magic 500, a bunch of like minded super fans whose sole purpose was to turn it up to 11 and 'Stamp your feet and clap your hands.' These events have created some amazing friendships which go far wider than just the love of music, and nobody can take that away; no matter what the non-disciples may think.

And the love affair continues to this day, with walls full of memorabilia and guess what? My band returning to the album charts (in the Top 10, again) with a look back at past glories in the shape of Cum On Feel The Hitz. Time for this SLADE super fan to feel normal again, well at least for a little while!

So, don’t forget your first love, and, remember, SLADE are for life, not just for Christmas!"

A huge thank you to Mark for this. As you can see, Beano is now the proud owner of Jim Lea's confetti jacket - the one he wore on the front cover of their 1972 album, Slayed? Though I'm told it's a little on the snug side.

1970 (1/5)

It was Sandy Denny who asked the perennial question: Who knows where the time goes? And having recently compiled a photo book for James' 30th - a job that saw me rifling thru literally thousands of photographs, slides and digital images - I know. God, I know. But, like asking how they get the stripes into a tube of toothpaste - we all kinda pretend not to.

Which brings me to today's offering. Anyone still following me after all these years will know the glue that binds this whole shaky caravan together is four parts shooting from the hip, one part premeditated. Themes or lists (apart from annual roundups) happen when they happen, or, most likely, don't happen when they don't happen. But, for some unfathomable reason I have five songs in my head that were all released in 1970. And even those at the back of the class will know that that's 50 years ago in anyone's language.

So, rather than blurt them all out in one hit I'm going to release them into the ether one at a time.

First up, Slade. Long before Noddy Holder discovered mirrored top hats and indeed before Dave Hill found an alternative use for Bacofoil, Slade were a bunch of Black Country skinheads trying to catch a break. They obviously succeeeded, but not before dispensing with the Ben Shermans, Sta Press and 14 eye DMs (your mum probably called 'em bovver boots). And they sounded like this:

Slade: One Way Hotel (1970)

R is for Slade

Sladey McSladeface

Full bodied

Riggsby and I go back a long way: a very long way. We met at school in, I'm guessing, 1973 and were friends right from the get go. We discovered a lot of stuff for the first time together - you know the sort of things - sex and drugs and rock and roll, to name but three. Even though he now resides in Southern California, we still keep in regular contact. And I know he reads my blog.

Cue today's email from him; it landed first thing this morning whilst I was simultaneously wiping the sleep from my eyes and cursing the alarm. If you're familiar with Swedey McSwedeface, it will all make perfect sense. If not... where have you been?!"


Hi John,

This is a fun idea. "Slade Alive" was (one of) the first album(s) I bought, and one I listened to many times. Their version of 'Born to be Wild' was my favourite track. In the early days of record buying, I also bought Elton John's "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" I am embarrassed to say. Happily, I did not hold onto that one. I got in the music paper Sounds with Electric Ladyland because I bought a copy that was warped, but the record store closed down and I was unable to exchange it. A very nice person at Sounds arranged for a flat copy to be sent to me.

Of the original albums I still have, I treasure the DAMNED particularly.

All taken in the kitchen, as requested. How's that?

Riggsby

Now with tongues

How's that? It's bloody marvellous, that's what it is. Thank you Riggsby - this one's for you:

The Damned - New Rose (1977) 

Two worlds collide

'Polydor' acrylic on canvas 7" x 5"

At the arse end of 1972 I managed to scrape enough pennies together to buy my first ever single. I'd heard it on Top of the Pops the week before and I just knew I had to own a copy. It was Gudby t'Jane by Slade and, as I was to find out when approaching the counter of the Music Inn, it was on the Polydor label. Around that time you'd see many other Polydor releases in either the singles or album charts: Hendrix, Focus, The Hollies, The New Seekers and Rory Gallagher to name but a few. But it was a much bigger hitter than any of the above who bankrolled the label. Thanks to my parents and people like my parents, whenever they had the neighbours round for a shindig, it wasn't just impregnable tins of Watneys Party Seven that made parties go with a bang. Oh no, it was a bearded white suited bandleader from Deutschland. That's right, James bloody Last.

Even now, whenever I see the red and black label I always think of Slade. Ask my dad and he'll no doubt tell you the King of Elevator Music.

.......

This blog is five years old today. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to stop off and shoot the breeze with me. I do appreciate it.

This will be the last time

Candlestick Park and Cow Palace. Two stadiums (stadia?) that not only share the same initials, but practically the same San Fransiscan zip code. And venues that, 18 years  apart, played host to a brace of British beat groups who hung up their gig bags for the last time whilst in the Bay Area.

The Beatles' last hurrah in 1966 is well documented: John knew it was going to be the last time - he even took an early selfie of himself with his back to the crowd. Slade, on the other hand, found themselve supporting Ozzy Osbourne in 1984 and, probably, never knew the significance of the evening's performance. When they returned to blighty Noddy Holder would slowly retreat from the band before finally telling the other three he'd had enough.

My good friend Mark Smith, pictured above, came to visit at the weekend. Mark was practically the fifth member of Slade; his love of the band is well documented and it came as no surprise when he called his first born Noddy and had the letters S L A D E tattooed on his knuckles.*



* As with a lot of content on the internet, some facts contained in the last paragraph may need checking out.

Have you just trumped?

* Original members still alive: 25 %
* Big in Wolverhampton: 17 %
* Pinheads: 100 %
* Surname ubiquity: 100 %
* Popularity at Christmas: 4 %
* Gabba Gabba: 98 %
* Misappropriation of the English language: 8 %

* Original members still alive: 100 %

* Big in Wolverhampton: 99 %

* Pinheads: 25 %

* Surname ubiquity:  0 %
* Popularity at Christmas:  94 %

* Gabba Gabba: 12 %

* Misappropriation of the English language: 96 %

Fill yer boots

I'd just like to wish everyone who's swung by this site in the last 12 months A Very Happy New Year. Judging by my stat counter I appear to getting more readers in the US than back home here in the UK. I know you should never read too much into the often murky world of statistics - I leave that to the likes of Tim Harford and James Medd. So, if you're reading this in England or New England, York or New York - have a great 2013.

Some of you may be aware that I've just recorded and released my first EP. Pickering Place, named after the smallest square in London, is a collection that brings together four of my own compositions and a Slade cover; I Won't Let It Happen Again used to sound like this:



Not anymore! You can download this or indeed any or all of the songs from my Bandcamp site. Go on, fill yer boots.

Pickering Place

  Pickering Place: it's the smallest square in London, you know

Not for the first time in my life, events appear to be moving a tad faster than I would like. Not only is there a house move to fit in before Chr*stm*s, but there's also the small matter of releasing my first EP.

Pickering Place will, all things being equal, be on sale from the second week in December (I signed off the artwork today - hence the cutting guides seen here). Comprising four JM originals & a Slade cover, and priced at a mere Lady, it will make the perfect stocking filler and/or shaving mirror.

If I was a major Hip Hop recording star I would now be thanking everyone from The Lord God Almighty down to the shoe shine guy on the corner of 32nd and Lafayette. However, I would just like to thank James Medd. His guitar playing was so sublime I nearly gave him a co-write. Nearly.

Watch this space in the coming weeks for release details, downloads, tour dates, TV tie-ins, record shop signings, kissing of babies, supermarket openings, etc. I will also be thanking, properly, my producer, Carl, and the other fine musicians who can be heard on this small but perfectly formed Extended Play.

John Medd: When The Sun Comes Up

Walking downstairs in unfeasibly high heels

An occasional series

# 1 Noddy Holder

And Dave Hill too

Slade? Now you're talking

Slade (l-r) Don, Nod, Jim and a BacoFoil Nun

Andy Kershaw's been through the wringer of late. I'm looking forward to reading his cathartic No Off Button. Never one to pull his punches (even Peely gets a kicking, apparently), I love his take on music:

The Beatles? Unexciting. Elvis Presley? Manifestly plastic. David Bowie? Self-important. Slade? Now you're talking...

Mama Weer All Crazee Now