Waiting for the man

Well I'm sure that you've heard by now that Lou Reed has died. It's almost impossible to imagine how radical The Velvet Underground must have sounded when they first emerged in the mid-sixties - after all they still sound ahead of their time to me now over 45 years later. There's an often-repeated adage made by Brian Eno that everyone who bought the first Velvet Underground album started a band (well, I certainly did!) and whilst it's a wonderfully romantic notion - and it just could be true! - it's also a measure of Reed's influence on pretty much all rock music (or at least the stuff worth hearing!) since then. As a result it's perhaps easy to overlook his subsequent solo material, but albums like 'Transformer' and 'Berlin' stand every bit as tall as those legendary Velvets recordings. He leaves behind an extraordinary body of work that will continue to inspire future musicians and artists for generations to come.

Meanwhile with no gigs of my own over the last week or so I've had chance to get out and about to catch a few live shows, although somewhere along the line I've managed to hurt my back (Ouch! This 'geting old' lark isn't always much fun!) which is rather annoying. Anyway Thursday evening The 100 Club hosted a night of acts once associated with Stiff Records featuring The Members, Department S and Ed Tudor-Pole. When I arrived E. T.-P. was already putting his all into his performance, his wild 'n' wacky stage persona every bit as over the top as every other time that I've seen him. Department S were up next, with an excellent set of old and new material which went down exceedingly well with all concerned, while the Members (joined by original guitarist Nigel Bennett for the latter half of their show) sounded as solid and reliable as ever. A good night, as was the following evening at Tropic At Ruislip where Larry Miller gave a splendid performance, ably supported by Gary Moore tribute band Moore Or Less. The Miller guitar sounded as mighty as ever, and his increasingly bizarre between-song-comments had more than a few audience members smiling, often in disbelief... and there were more than a few audience members smiling in disbelief last night at The Horns in Watford where bass legend Norman Watt-Roy played a solo gig, and was joined for the last four songs by the mighty Wilko Johnson. Things had been progressing well up until that point, with Norman's playing as mind-boggling as ever and the band on fine form, if a little too jazzy here and there for my not-very jazzy tastes; however as soon as Wilko hit the stage the intensity in the room and indeed on the stage jumped by several hundred percent and the audience erupted in a frenzy of phone photography and filming (as these clips show!) He played "Everybody's Carrying A Gun', 'Casting My Spell On You' (it's been a wee while since I've heard that one - good choice!) 'Out On the Western Plain' and the encore of 'Roxette', and every moment was one to savour. And if that wasn't enough my new friend Pam the landlady has given The Upper Cut a gig next year and wants to book Ruts D.C. - excellent!

I'm back on the boards with Big Al Reed and The Blistering Buicks this weekend, at The Chippenham Hotel in Maida Vale on Friday followed by a return visit to The Dolphin in Uxbridge on Saturday. And I'm up early for a Back To Zero rehearsal on Sunday morning - but more about that next time.

Savage Stooges

Last night I went to see Iggy and the Stooges supported by Savages at The Royal Festival Hall as part of the Yoko Ono-curated Meltdown Festival. If ever a night promised much, it was this one. If ever a night delivered much, it was this one...

I'd heard a lot about Savages, not least from Segs who had posted 'Shut Up' on the Ruts D.C. Facebook page and raved about them generally; the four black-clad figures who made their way onto the stage just after 7.30pm might have been boys, might have been girls, a quick 'Hi!' and we're into the first number, jagged bass and guitar lines colliding with syncopated drums with a solitary vocal soaring above, below, within you and without you. An hour later it ends and what a long strange trip it's been, where The Velvet Underground met Siouxsie And The Banshees at Joy Division's house for white light, speed and cupcakes. I think I liked them although I could be wrong; if I ever find myself with a bit of spare cash I'll buy their album and see if I can decide either way. It feels like it's the least that I can do.

Suddenly James Williamson's guitar is the loudest thing that any of us has ever heard - the opening riff of 'Raw Power' roars out as the rest of the band scramble into place, desperate to get their instruments fired up as Iggy Pop sprints across the stage, dancing to the beat of the living dead as the band that never bit the weenie soars into orbit around him. 'Gimme Danger little stranger' - the pace drops as the intensity rises, new songs follow old songs follow new songs follow old songs, huge slabs of sound ricochet around a room that can hardly contain what's happening within. Tonight 'Search And Destroy' isn't just the best song title ever, it's the best song ever, a tumultuous celebration of rock 'n' roll at it's most potent and powerful. Iggy wants the whole audience to join the band on stage for 'Fun House' and suddenly everybody wants to be in The Stooges, but surely everybody who's there is in The Stooges anyway - at least that's how it feels, it's us against the world and the world doesn't stand a chance. 'Joanna' and 'Beyond The Law' slam into 'Your Pretty Face Is Going To Hell' and 'No Fun', 'I Wanna Be your Dog' is heavier than heavy, louder than loud, greater than great. After 'Sex And Money' from the new album 'Ready To Die' Iggy sneers 'you'll all like it in 40 years time' - but suppose we all like it now? Suppose the world finally caught up with The Stooges at last? What A Wonderful World this would be, as someone once sang. Meanwhile 'Open Up And Bleed' and 'The Departed' take the mood down below sea level before a bone-crushing 'Louie Louie' bombs out the last pockets of resistance. It's all over - or is it? No one leaves the stage - 'better play another song then' says our leader and an outrageous 'Cock In My Pocket' brings an unforgettable evening to a close. Meltdown expected, the wheat is growing thin, and The Stooges rule - ok?

Adam raised a Cain

Another rock casualty - Michael Davis of The MC5 has died. Like The Stooges, The New York Dolls and The Velvet Underground the MC5 are a band that were derided when they first appeared in the 1960s but that were later held up as heroes by the punk rock fraternity in the 1970s. One listen to anything from 'Kick Out The Jams', 'Back In The U.S.A.' or 'High Time' will show why their radical politics and their association with the likes of John Sinclair meant that the American establishment marked them out as enemies at the time of their release. Their extraordinary combination of anger, frustration and intelligence make them some of the most remarkable rock records of all time, and Michael Davis made a hugely valuable contribution to them. Click here for an amazing clip of the band playing live in 1970 - that, my friends, is rock 'n' roll...

In the meantime it's been another gig-less weekend for your humble narrator, although I did spend Sunday with F.B.I. Band / Utter Madness keyboard maestro Richard Whennell recording guitars on two tracks for Glee Club UK. There wasn't a lot of rock 'n' roll rebellion in the tracks in question (since you've asked they were 'We Built This City' by Starship and 'You're The Inspiration' by Chicago) but it was still a hugely enjoyable experience, and a real challenge to attempt to recreate the guitar parts on the original recordings. I'm not sure that I was completely accurate but even though I say so myself it sounded pretty good by the end of the session. Let's hope it still does!

Thankfully I've got some gigs this coming weekend (thank Gawd!) so I can't sit here talking to you as I've got songs to learn - but in the meantime it's my Dad's 80th birthday today and I'm off to see him. I've considered writing a hopelessly over-emotional, intensely personal account of our relationship here in these hallowed pages, but have decided to just say that more than ever I realise that I wouldn't be the person that I am today (for better or worse!) if it wasn't for the way he and my Mum bought me (and indeed my brother Terry) up. They could be hard on us sometimes which at the time seemed difficult to understand but nowadays makes a lot more sense. He remains a tough man, albeit with a somewhat softer centre these days, which is no bad thing if you think about it.

I've bought him a framed Heggarty coat of arms - in doing so I've discovered that our family motto is 'they neither bend nor change'. That'll do for me, and I suspect it'll do for him too. Happy birthday Dad.