'Second verse, same as the first...'

Well much of my time since we last spoke has been spent attempting to learn some songs. Neck songs. Clash songs. Price songs. Other songs. Lots of songs. I wonder if I can remember any of them?

There's a Neck rehearsal on Thursday night in anticipation of a St. Patrick's Day show at The 12 Bar Club ; rehearsals for the Joe Strummer film gig have been scheduled for the week after next so I've got a bit more time with them, although perhaps predictably the set list is changing a lot at the moment as guest singers confirm and cancel accordingly. I'm sure it'll all be ok in the end... and then there's the prospect of a Price gig almost exactly 30 years since our first one - more news as and when I have it, but if it doesn't happen then there's a good chance of us playing at some time in the next few months so I thought I'd better have a look at some of our songs too. And I'm playing at a wedding in 3 weeks time - I received the proposed song list earlier this week, which among quite a few numbers that I've played before also includes (gulp!) some songs from this century. Oo-er! Whatever next?!?

Anyway having had no gigs of my own this week (not necessarily a bad thing for once!) I made it along to The 100 Club two nights running to catch some more punk rock. The latest Human Punk club night saw a rare London appearance from the legends that are Sham 69 - I don't mind admitting that I was never their biggest fan but listened to 30-odd years on it must be said that their best material has weathered well. With original members Jimmy Pursey, Dave Parsons and Dave Tregguna all present and correct their set mostly consisted of early material and was lapped up by the sold out crowd. For me it was great to hear Dave Parsons sounding so good, although I felt that his partner-in-crime Mr. Pursey looked rather vulnerable at times. The next night The Sex Pistols Experience played a suitably barnstorming show, ably supported by Lizzie And The Banshees. Rather like Sham 69 my knowledge of the Siouxsie And the Banshees catalogue is more-or-less limited to their singles, but I thought they made a very good job of what is often some very difficult material. The SPE gave a raucous performance, with Nathan's uncanny portrayal of Uncle Johnny as impressive as ever and the rest of the band matching him blow for (biggest) blow. And once again the show was sold out, which is a good thing to see in these troubled times.

Music Scene Investigation on Sunday evening was good fun as always, although I did have more than a little trouble with song number 3 as you can see if you watch the show here. And I met up with Ian from MSI at The Angel in Hayes last night where he runs a first-Monday-of-the-month jam night - I hadn't intended to play but ended up on bass for a few songs. And why not?

Right - back to The Clash. I mean Neck. I mean The Price. Er... oh well, one of them anyway. Or all of them. Or something.

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?

'I'm playing all the right notes, but not necessarily in the right order...'

Robin Gibb died last Sunday - I can't claim to have been the biggest Bee Gees fan in the World (my mum loved 'em which probably put me off a bit when I was a lad!) but there's no denying that he was a great singer and that he and his brothers were brilliant pop songwriters, although maybe not quite as good as the likes of Paul Gambaccini have since claimed? Still, it's a shame to see him go - and their '60s stuff really was rather good wasn't it?

Would you use this dressing room?
We didn't!

In the meantime it's commercial time - 'Punk Britannia' starts on BBC Four this coming week, and one of the featured artists in the season of punky programmes is the one and only T.V. Smith; the documentary 'We Who Wait - T.V. Smith and The Adverts' has been in the making for several years now, and it's great to see it finally appearing on mainstream television. There's also 'Evidently... John Cooper Clarke', a vintage 'Old Grey Whistle Test' featuring Siouxsie and The Banshees and more - great stuff all round.

Cool Britannia finally made it to the stage this weekend - Friday we made the epic journey up to Barrow-in-Furness for a show at The Forum, while on Saturday we played at The Roses Theatre in Tewkesbury. Both shows were good if rather under-attended - speaking to other musicians this seems to be a familiar story at the moment although that doesn't make me for one feel any better about it all. Oh well - there are more shows this week so I guess we'll see how it all goes... The Roses is famous - maybe that should be 'infamous' - for being the place where Eric Morecambe suffered a fatal heart attack backstage after a show there; I wonder how many times the staff there hear jokes about 'dying on stage'?


There's not much time for blogging today or indeed this week as in addition to there being some Cool Britannia shows (hopefully!) it's also Ruts D.C. rehearsal time once again before the band's first show of this year at The Last Jubilee Festival next Saturday - now that's definitely something to look forward to!