I’m
waiting for Issue #3 of Classic Rock Presents Prog,
which examines the world of prog metal via cover
stars Rush, Dream Theater, Queensryche, Opeth, Porcupine
Tree and Voivod, to drop onto the mat. I contributed
an interview with Michael Romeo of Symphony X which
apparently fills four pages, so I’m dying
to see how it’s been laid out. There are also
brand new interviews with Marillion, ex-Genesis
men Steve Hackett and Anthony Phillips, The Gathering,
War Of The Worlds maestro Jeff Wayne and Ross Halfin
and Pete Makowski’s favourite band, It Bites.
Talking of IB, it’s fascinating to learn that
ex-guitarist/vocalist Francis Dunnery takes his
own ‘brand new’ line-up of the group
with a set of UK shows that begin on October 22,
rivalling the existing incarnation that stars John
Beck, Bob Dalton and John Mitchell.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Wednesday
29th July
Okay,
okay, pre-season friendlies are not supposed to
be taken too seriously; they’re meant to integrate
new squad players and top up the fitness levels
after the summer break – or that’s why
I attempted to drum into my eldest lad Eddie on
the bus home from last night’s disappointing
0-1 defeat to Norwich City (now of League 1, let
us not forget). Taking place at a virtually uninhabited
Selhurst Park the first half performance was just
about passable, but how on earth defender Jose Fonte
ended up leading the line for a final 20 minutes
of directionless hoofball is plain unfathomable.
In the wake of last week’s uninspiring 2-2
draw at Brentford I’m starting to think that
the club is going to have massive problems in ’09/’10.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Monday
27th July
I
laughed aloud this morning as the clock radio revealed
the European Union’s latest ridiculous directive.
From August 1, it is illegal for all paid employees
to work for longer 48 hours in a single week –
a rule that only a well-paid, expense account-wielding
bureaucrat could possibly have conceived. This does
not apply to freelance music journalists, of course,
though just for a giggle I might even tot up the
hours that I spend here at the computer during the
next seven days. Then again, maybe I’d better
not. I might end up boarding the Eurostar to Brussels
and shoving a nuclear warhead right up the backside
of some smug Euro MP tossbag.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Sunday
26th July
Clan Ling has just returned home from the 25th
anniversary of the Rock And Blues Custom Show, a
two-day bash that celebrates motorcycles, rock music
and booze. The event was cancelled last year, so
the 2009 show was a ‘Let’s get back
on our feet again’ type of affair, with a
more low-key bill than usual. Arriving on site on
Friday afternoon Stray were into their stride, having
taken Shy’s place after illness to guitarist
Steve Harris. Beholder delivered a raucous, metallic
display and I enjoyed a lively set from GMT, which
included a version of Ozzy Osbourne’s ‘Mr
Crowley’, a song that guitarist Bernie Tormé
had first played when he deputised for the late,
great Randy Rhoads). Being disinclined towards AC/DC
UK – sorry, I just don’t see the point
of tribute bands – and flagging from a long
car journey we also passed on headliners Skinny
Molly for a few too many drinkies at the home of
DL Online webmistress Kate, who lives a short drive
away and had kindly (better make that ‘foolishly’)
offered to put up myself, Mrs L and the Linglets
and even Bob The Dog for the weekend.
The hospitality of Kate and the alcohol-pouring
skills of her daughter Zoe were such that we didn’t
surface again at the site till late the next day.
Regrettably, Wolfsbane were already winding up their
set (and the crowd), Blaze Bayley leering: “Thanks
so much. Considering we’re only here for the
money, you fuckers are making us feel really great”.
Outside of the environs of Iron Maiden, Bayley is
a quite superb frontman and the Tamworth Terrors’
rendition of Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Born
To Run’ was a moment of the true comedic genius.
Next up were Dan Baird & Homemade Sin, featuring
the former Georgia Satellites duo of guitarist/frontman
Baird and drummer Mauro Magellan. Despite starting
in a low-key manner, the lead guitar of Jason &
The Scorchers man Warner E Hodges (a lookalike for
my Classic Rock chum Phil Wilding) helped it to
build to a joyous climax via the Satellites’
own ‘Keep Your Hands To Yourself’ and
‘Railroad Steel’. With a typically rowdy
display, the Quireboys arrived under cloak of darkness
to ensure that RBCS ’09 ended on a high note.
Here’s hoping that it comes back bigger, better
and back to normal next year.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Friday
24th July
I
suppose it was preordained. Going to an album playback
party in Soho on a Thursday night, where are you
bound to end up? So I made the trip to the West
End to hear the new album from Alice In Chains and
materialised… yeah, you guessed it…
pissed as a fart in the Crobar. With ‘Black
Gives Way To Blue’ not scheduled to drop until
September 28, EMI had put an array of security measures
in place; there were metal detectors at the door
and you had to leave your bag outside the main room,
but the event was thrown at a classy gaff –
the Sanctum Hotel – and not only was there
as much delicious-tasting white wine as you could
guzzle but waiters came round and topped up your
glass if it looked like you were going thirsty.
The
album? Oh yes... the album. Well, my expectations
were ramped up even before the button marked ‘play’
was pressed when Metal Hammer editor Alex Milas
announced that ‘Black Gives Way To Blue’
is likely to be his album of the year. Likewise,
Classic Rock’s Siân Llewellyn, who’d
also sampled the record in advance, could be seen
almost purring with satisfaction at hearing it again.
And why not? The album was about fifty times better
than I expected it to be. With newcomer William
DuVall of Georgia-based band Comes With The Fall
on vocals, replacing the seemingly irreplaceable
Layne Staley (RIP), AIC has managed to tap back
into its edgy, sometimes deliciously harrowing signature
sound without resorting to mimicry. To be honest,
I was left utterly gobsmacked by the record’s
quality.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Wednesday
22nd July
What
the hell is going on with Anthrax? On the way home
from Crystal Palace’s pre-season game at Brentford
I received a text from Metal Hammer ed Alex Milas
informing me that the band have parted company with
their singer Dan Nelson. Given that Nelson had recently
been declared by the band too ill to perform, something
he now publicly refutes, this latest regrettable
development is not exactly shocking. After the debacle
of their reunion with Joey Belladonna and resultant
sidelining of John Bush – who will now be
performing with them at the Sonisphere Festival
– I had really hoped that Nelson’s appointment
would provide a little stability. So now the band
has an album, ‘Worship Music’, ready
for release with a singer that is no longer around.
With Bush agreeing to help them out at Sonisphere,
something I **did not** expect, they also face the
uncertainty of who will front the group long-term.
Word has it they hope Bush will re-commit to the
job, fitting in around his Armored Saint commitments.
Whatever, the situation is one massive clusterfuck.
To a certain extent, Anthrax have been architects
of their own demise, but I would not wish this mess
upon them.
The
Brentford versus Palace game was a 2-2 draw. Apart
from a wonder goal by Myles Weston that briefly
gave the home side the lead, it was largely forgettable.
West Ham loanee Tom Sears showed some nice flashes
and a willingness to have a shot, former Clowntown
arrival Darren Ambrose also faring pretty well (his
deflected free kick resulted in the Eagles’
opening goal; the other came late on via defender
Jose Fonte), but on this evidence I fear that many
of last season’s inadequacies remain worryingly
intact.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Tuesday
21st July
Excuse
me while I exhale a sigh of relief. Australia’s
hoodoo at Lord’s is finally over, yesterday’s
five-wicket haul from Flintoff sealing a 115-run
victory as England triumphed at the home of cricket
for the first time since 1934 to take a 1-0 lead
in the Ashes series. What drama! What excitement!
What elation! How dare people say that test match
cricket is a boring game, there really is no other
sport like it. And so the physios do their best
to patch up Flintoff and Pietersen’s battered
bodies before hostilities recommence at Edgbaston
in eight days.
England’s
victory wasn’t my only reason to express satisfaction.
Yesterday’s workload included four phone interviews.
Past experience tells me that when you line up as
many phoners in such a short space of time, at least
one must fail to happen. On this occasion, however,
everything went swimmingly. I spoke to Buzzcocks
guitarist Steve Diggle and Nektar mainman Roye Albrighton,
then Mr Big frontman Eric Martin and finally former
Toto guitarist Steve Lukather. The latter two conversations
were especially enjoyable. In my days as a writer
for RAW Magazine, Eric and I used to indulge in
playful wind-ups, but I’m pretty sure we hadn’t
spoken since the demise of Mr Big 13 years ago.
Uncertain whether he would remember me, I introduced
myself simply as Dave from Classic Rock magazine
in London. There was a moment’s pause, then
hesitantly he replied: “So… is this
Dave Ling?” When I replied in the affirmative,
the singer erupted with laughter: “I still
have nightmares about you!” Worse still was
to come. When I called Monsewer Lukather half an
hour later, his greeting was a lusty exclamation
of: “Dave Ling, you old shirt-lifter, you.
How are things?” Um… same as ever, thanks.
Same as ever.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Monday
20th July
Most
of the past weekend was spent working, either on
interview transcriptions or albums reviews. Among
the package of CDs that Metal Hammer had asked me
to cover was the debut from an all-female, Swedish
metal combo called Hysterica.
Like Geoff Barton, who gave the Peter Tägtgren-produced
‘Metalwar’ 9/10 in Classic Rock, I really
enjoyed it – despite its flaws. The sleeve’s
reverse artwork shows five grimacing ladies; all
cleavage, fishnets, leather boots and attitude,
wielding daggers, broadswords and even a crossbow
(!). And while Anni De Vil is just 19 years old,
she delivers a blood vessel-burstingly intense vocal
performance to match the band’s Judas Priest
and Pantera-influenced instrumental roar. At times
the lyrics are so bad you feel compelled to add
an ‘L’ to the end of the group’s
name, but if Joey De Maio had worn a push-up bra,
you know darned well he’d have written a song
called ‘Girls Made Of Heavy Metal’.
It’s
the final day of the Second Test and I’ve
already gnawed my fingernails down to the quick.
From a position of outright superiority England
have let Australia back into game. Very shortly
batsmen Michael Clarke and Brad Haddin will continue
their 185-run partnership, resuming on 313-5 and
chasing a world-record victory target of 522. But
for their stubbornness England would’ve won
the game yesterday. Just like the First Test, I’ve
a nasty feeling this will go right down to the wire.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Saturday
18th July
With
the Convicts commencing today’s play at 156-8,
England appear to be in control of the Second Test.
269 runs behind England’s first innings total
and with Nathan Hauritz and Peter Siddle at the
crease, the tourists will do well to avoid the follow-on.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Friday 17th July
The
Second Ashes Test has got off to a lively start
with Australia attempting to extend an unthinkable
75-year unbeaten run at Lord’s. Although England
captain Andrew Strauss notched a heroic 161 NO at
the end of the first day’s play, the tourists
edged back into contention by taking six wickets
for 364 – most annoying as England had looked
comfortable at 222-2, before the inevitable collapse.
I’ve
finally finished To Live Is To Die, Joel McIver’s
biography of Metallica’s late, great Metallica
bassist Cliff Burton. Though it’s a quality
piece of literature, it made me quite sad. I never
actually got to interview Burton – he preferred
to leave talking to the press to Messrs Hetfield
and Ulrich – but I met him several times,
and my opinion of the man tallies with those expressed
so forcefully in McIver’s text. Besides his
obvious talents as a player, Cliff was modest and
pragmatic, not something that could have been said
of all his band-mates (James Hetfield once spat
beer in my face at the Marquee for something Metal
Hammer had written about him, wrongly believing
it my handiwork), and immensely likable. Reading
the account of the band’s horrific crash,
also an interview Burton conducted by writer Jörgen
Holmstedt mere hours before the group’s bus
skidded from the road in Ljungby, Sweden, brought
back chills of disbelief. I still recall receiving
a call from Shades Records boss ‘Modest’
Mike Shannon to inform me of the disaster, also
partying with the band – including Cliff –
and members of Anthrax at an after-show do at the
Forum Hotel in Cromwell Road following their now
legendary performance on the ‘Master Of Puppets’
tour at Hammersmith Odeon on 21st September, 1986
– just six days before the accident that so
saddened the world of metal.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Wednesday
15th July
Oh
wow… that’s hardly a bad crop of new
releases, is it? I’ve just received advance
promos of Megadeth’s newie, ‘Endgame’
(due via Roadrunner in September), also ‘Last
Look At Eden’ by Europe (Sept 14) and Gong’s
comeback disc, ‘2032’ (Sept 21), which
continues the band’s famous ‘Radio Gnome’
album trilogy.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Tuesday
14th July
Until
last night I had never attended a gig at Somerset
House, a picturesque open-air courtyard set by the
banks of the Thames in central London that dates
back to the 1550s, which makes it almost as ancient
as photographer Ross Halfin. Compared to the last
time I saw the band, at Brixton Academy last March,
frontman Cedric Bixler-Zavala was unusually talkative,
chattering away to the audience and even surreally
dedicating ‘Iilyna’ to actress Helen
Mirren. The band’s sound is an exhilaratingly
futuristic fusion of so many different styles, it
almost leaves you breathless. And I’m happy
to say that material from the latest album, ‘Octahedron’,
worked really well. However, like many of the crowd
around me (who rudely began chatting or making calls
on their mobile phones), my interest waned as guitarist
Omar Rodríguez-López led them off
on several extended jam sessions. Don’t get
me wrong, I’m all for a bit of improv though
only if it adds something interesting to the song.
And as five or six minutes became nine or ten, then
11 or 12, I found my gaze fixing the large hand
of a clock way off to my left, wondering how on
earth it could possibly be moving so slowly. But
when the show was good – for about 90 minutes
of its two-hour duration – it was truly excellent.
Here’s the set-list: ‘Goliath’
, ‘Cotopaxi’, ‘Roulette Dares
(The Haunt Of)’, ‘Viscera Eyes’,
‘Halo Of Nembutals’, ‘Cygnus...
Vismund Cygnus’, ‘Desperate Graves’,
‘Iilyna’, ‘Teflon’, ‘Drunkship
Of Lanterns’, ‘Luciforms’, ‘The
Widow’ and ‘Wax Simulacra’.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Monday
13th July
The
climax of the first Ashes Test Match reminded me
why I love cricket so much. England had played poorly
throughout but their tail-enders James Anderson
and Monty Panesar ended up defying the Aussie bowlers
for agonising 69 balls and 40 minutes to cling on
through the final few overs, claiming an unlikely
draw. Absolutely amazing stuff!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Sunday 12th July
Gruuhhhh. For the second time in 24 hours I
got to bed at 5am. But in stark contrast to yesterday,
I had also supped several drinkies at Thunder’s
farewell London gig (and indeed at their after-show
party), so the head stings twice as badly. As someone
that has followed Thunder since the very beginning,
also the band’s precursor Terraplane, interviewing
them on many occasions and seeing them onstage more
times that I would care to admit, the show at Hammersmith
Apollo was a bitter-sweet experience. The group
played really, really well, and a sold-out auditorium
did them proud, roaring them to the finish line
and across it with astonishing levels of noise and
emotion. I was overjoyed that they included ‘She’s
So Fine’ for the first time on the tour, honouring
those promises to rotate the set-list. Taking place
at a hotel a short walk from the Apollo the post-show
bash was restricted to families and friends, the
invitation declaring: “Numbers are strictly
limited so if you have a pass we love you!”
I’ve a vague recollection of meeting Peter
Shoulder, the guy who will work with Luke Morley
in a new band, but cannot remember a word of our
conversation. Yes, it was one of those nights! And
now it’s one of those mornings…
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Saturday 11th July
Apart
from crawling groggily into my pit at 5am, after
grabbing a lift back to London with Gong and taking
two night busses across town, yesterday was a lot
of fun. During the afternoon I ventured down to
Canterbury in leafy Kent for the Lounge On The Farm
Festival. Arriving backstage, Steve Hillage introduced
me to Daevid Allen, Gong’s co-founding frontman/guitarist,
whose greeting of “Your eyebrows are magnificent”
caught me completely off guard. He made such a fuss
of my slightly bushy forehead furniture that I made
a promise to trim them back. “No, no, no,”
exclaimed the eccentric Melbourne native, “if
anything you should make a feature of them!”
Okay, Daevid… if you say so.
Before
Gong performed, Hillage offered an excellent 50-minute
reprise of his rock years (none of your dance music
tripe). As a long-time fan, never having seen Hillage
onstage before, I was almost beside myself with
excitement. Despite overlooking my own personal
favourites ‘Hello Dawn’ or ‘Light
In The Sky’ he played magnificently and at
times during the eight-song display (‘Octave
Doctors’, ‘Palm Trees’, ‘Searching
For The Spark’, a segment of ‘Aftaglid’,
‘Hurdy Gurdy Man’, ‘The Salmon
Song’, ‘It’s All too Much’
and ‘Solar Musick Suite’) I almost had
to pinch myself to check I was not dreaming.
In
a nice personal touch, Daevid Allen dedicated Gong’s
headline set to his recently deceased “musical
brother” and former Soft Machine band-mate,
Hugh Hopper. With the dream team nucleus of Allen,
Hillage, Steve’s partner Miquette Giraudy
(synths) and Gilli Smith (space whisper and poetry)
back together in its 40th anniversary year, the
veteran space-rock band previewed a handful of tunes
from the forthcoming ‘2032’, Gong’s
first album to feature both Allen and Hillage since
1974’s ‘You’. I liked what I heard,
especially ‘Digital Girl’, an observation
regarding 21st Century females, and ‘Wacky
Baccy Bankers’, which featured a sensational
glissando solo. Mostly, though, the excellent two-hour
set was culled from the classic Gong albums. Daevid
Allen is such a great frontman, it’s hard
to believe he is now 71 years young. He might look
a little like a slimmer versions of Grandpa from
The Waltons but that bon viveur stage persona of
his reminded me more of Leslie Phillips. On the
journey home I found him to be excellent company.
P.S. Almost forgot, here’s the Gong set-list:
‘Escape Control Delete’, ‘You
Can’t Kill Me’, ‘Tic Toc’,
‘Dynamite: I Am Your Animal’, ‘Digital
Girl’, ‘Yoni Poem’, ‘Dance
With The Pixies’, ‘Wacky Baccy Bankers’,
‘I Niver Glid Before’, ‘Flute
Salade’, ‘Oily Way’, ‘Outer
Temple’, ‘Inner Temple’, ‘She
Is The Great Goddess’, ‘Master Builder’,
‘Tri-Cycle Gliss’ and ‘You Never
Blow Your Trip Forever’ and an encore of ‘Tropical
Fish/Selene’.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Friday
10th July
Jeez,
things don’t look good for England in the
Test Match. With their bowlers thoroughly impotent
after the lunch break and one of Australia’s
batsmen already having notched a century, the other
about to do likewise, it was almost a blessed relief
when the radio commentary diverted into the shipping
forecast with a couple of overs to go before close
of play. There is, I feel, a grim feeling of inevitability
about this.
In
the evening I went to see the Electric Boys at the
Underworld. The recently reunited Swedish band put
on a decent enough show for a medium-sized crowd,
but very quickly reminded me why I had such a mixed
opinion of them first time around. Sure, they have
a handful of Premier League quality tunes (notably
‘Psychedelic Eyes’, ‘Mary In The
Mystery World’, ‘Electrified’,
‘Rags To Riches’ and the fiery final,
bump ‘n’ grind encore of ‘All
Lips ‘N’ Hips’), though things
sagged during the middle of their performance. The
band’s predilection for clichéd song
titles – ‘Freaky Funksters’ (ULP!)
and ‘Bad Motherfunker’ (DOUBLE ULP!)
– is also a little hard to stomach, even for
a connoisseur of la belle fromage such as my good
self.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Thursday
8th July
And
so England’s cricketers grapple again with
the Old Enemy. I type this at the close of a gripping
first day’s play in the First Test in er…
Cardiff (yes, that’s Cardiff). England, who
won the toss and chose to bat, finished with 336-7.
Though they’ll be happy to have those runs
on the board, the Aussies’ wicket haul is
worrying. Honours just about even at this stage,
I guess…
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Wednesday
7th July
With
side attractions that included a beer tent and barbecue,
last night’s friendly Twenty20 cricket game
between Beckenham CC and an XI from Crystal Palace
FC had seemed like the perfect hors d’oeuvres
for the Ashes series, which begins tomorrow, and
a chance to catch up on some pre-season CPFC gossip.
Sadly, it was scuppered by some of the worst rainstorms
in recent memory. My Eagles-mad mates Kev and Marc
had exchanged hopeful texts all afternoon as the
thunder clouds hovered. In a display of blind optimism,
we met in Beckenham anyway… just as the heavens
opened and began hurling down hailstones. So vicious
was the weather, we abandoned hope of reaching the
game’s venue in Foxgrove Road to take refuge
in a local boozer, where we remained for the duration.
So imagine my annoyance to log on this morning and
read that Neil Warnock had been walking around the
club house all evening in cricket whites having
brought the full squad with him, including Clint
Hill, Julian ‘No Ponytail’ Speroni,
Shaun Derry, Danny Butterfield and new signing Darren
Ambrose. What a pisser!!!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Tuesday 6th July
Yesterday
evening I got to reacquaint myself with the new
Porcupine Tree album, ‘The Incident’,
during a special press playback session at London’s
Air Studios. Having been hired by Roadrunner Records
to write the biography ahead of its September 21
release date, I’d already heard the album
in less salubrious surroundings, so it was enjoyable
to savour its delights in the company of the band,
accompanied by a 5.1 surround mix and with the benefit
of a lyric sheet. I especially liked its Pink Floyd-flavoured
epic ‘Time Flies’ (which clocks in at
more than 11 minutes long) and the terrific ‘I
Drive The Hearse’, my knee-jerk reaction being
that the second half of ‘The Incident’
– the main body of which is a 55-minute, 14-track,
interlinked song cycle – is more consistent
than the first. The consensus among those I spoke
to tallied with my own verdict; it’s a less
heavy album than the band’s last, ‘Fear
Of A Blank Planet’, but its blasts of intensity
are used to cunningly brilliant effect. Got a feeling
it’s going to be a grower…
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Monday
6th July
Last
night my friend Steve ‘No Relation’
Way and I shot up the M11 to Cambridge for a show
on Thunder’s farewell tour. Aside from hideous
traffic at the Dartford Tunnel which jeopardised
our arrival in time for special guests Airrace,
my trip as a passenger was a smooth one, lubricated
by some ghastly Caribbean rum punch that I can still
taste this morning (might have something to do with
all that cider I sank at the venue). With Jason
Bonham back on drums after missing the band’s
last gig with Tesla, the new six-piece Airrace line-up
just gets better and better. Although many inside
the rammed-full Corn Exchange seemed to have no
prior knowledge, their brand of pomp-infused AOR
went down a storm.
Thunder,
though, were absolutely untouchable. Roared on by
a crowd that Danny Bowes had hanging from his every
utterance, they said goodbye to Cambridge in style
with one of the finest performances I’ve ever
seen the band give. It appears that, for obvious
reasons, they are mixing up the set-lists each night
of the tour, so there’s little point in complaining
about the songs they played. The only thing I would
say – and this might seem churlish given the
delight they cause – is that I sometimes wish
Bowes would moderate the amount of singalongs and
crowd participation elements that he brings to the
show, especially when last night’s version
of ‘Dirty Love’ lasted for a full 15
minutes – and they omitted to play the classic
‘Back Street Symphony’ among others.
Hate mail to the usual e-address; please mark them
‘You Are Such A Sodding Old Grouch’,
so I know to hit the delete button right away. Meanwhile,
here are the songs Thunder **did** play: ‘Loser’,
‘Welcome To The Party’, ‘Higher
Ground’, ‘Low Life In High Places’,
‘Gimme Some Lovin’’, ‘Moth
To The Flame’, ‘The Devil Made Me Do
It’, ‘Love Walked In’, ‘Stand
Up’, ‘You Can’t Keep A Good Man
Down’, ‘Don’t Wait For Me’
and ‘I Love You More Than Rock ‘N’
Roll’, with encores of ‘A Better Man’,
‘Just Another Suicide (You Wanna Know)’
and ‘Dirty Love’.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Sunday
5th July
Okay, I’m going to admit something embarrassing.
Until last night I had never seen Jeff Beck onstage
before. So I was thrilled to accept the offer of
a spare ticket for Beck’s performance at the
Royal Albert Hall from my good friend Paul Newcomb
(thanks, matey!!). We sank a few pre-show pints
at Victoria station which turned out a wise course
of action as besides being a bit of a sweatbox on
this occasion, the RAH doesn’t allow you to
take drinks into the auditorium.
Dressed
from head to toe in white (including matching pixie
boots), Beck’s stage attire was dodgy as hell,
but just like the Ziggy Stardust lyric… boy
can he play guitar. As a rule, I’m not into
instrumental music but Beck does it all so effortlessly
and with such class that your jaw is left on the
floor. With Vinnie Colaiuta (Zappa/Sting/Megadeth/Asia)
on drums, the levels of musicianship were off the
scale. A little light relief was provided by the
tour’s special guest Imelda May, who sang
the Elkie Brooks-popularised ‘Lilac Wine’,
and the band cruised into the home strait via a
vocal-free stab at the Beatles’ ‘A Day
In The Life’ and ‘Theme From Peter Gunn’.
Then, blow me down with a feather, David Gilmour
brought the house down by walking on to join in
the encores, which included a fantastic version
of William Blake’s ‘Jerusalem’
and then Beck’s own ‘Hi Ho Silver Lining’,
with Gilmour on vocals. What an absolutely top-notch
night!
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Saturday
4th July
This
morning there are three reasons to be disappointed,
ranging from the devastating to the inevitable and,
finally, the downright flippant. It’s with
a heavy heart that I relate the news that a fellow
English-born rock fan, Graham Barnell, has succumbed
to leukemia. The Quireboys and Chariot both raised
cash for Graham, who was married with two kids and
lived in Australia. He put up such a fight that
his story made the Aussie newspapers, but it proved
to be a battle he couldn’t win. My heart goes
out to his family.
So
the fact that yesterday Andy Murray lost to Andy
Roddick in the quarter-finals of Wimbledon, thereby
spurning a chance to become the nation’s first
male finalist of the tournament in 71 years, is
of less emotional significance. Shouldn’t
we be used to such disappointment by now? To be
fair, I thought that Murray played well in the opening
rounds and had as good a chance of triumph as any
of the last remaining eight. I fully expect him
to become a British Champion within the next two
to three years. But until then he can revert to
being a good ol’ Scottish failure, of course.
Hahaha!
And
finally, I’m hearing distressing reports that
current Crystal Palace goalie (and huge rock fan)
Julian Speroni
has ‘done a Rossi’ and lobbed off his
trademark pony-tail before the start of the ’09/’10
season. Jools, oh Jools… what have you done?!
Please say it’s not so. Remember what happened
to Samson…
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Friday
3rd July
My
head feels like it’s been run over by an articulated
lorry. Never, ever drink raspberry flavoured Absolut
vodka with diet cream soda, even if it is your birthday.
It tastes lovely, but it will destroy you.
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Thursday 2nd July
There’s
a bumper haul of post – is it my birthday
or something? Oh yes, actually it is. 32 again…
for the umpteenth consecutive year. I will wear
my T-shirt from UFO’s recent ‘The Visitor’
tour with pride (thanks, Kate). Covering the years
1978-1991, the second ‘Kissology’ DVD
set looks like another winner. And at last I’ve
got hold of a finished copy of The Parlor Mob’s
debut, ‘And You Were A Crow’. Listening
to this superb album as I type, no wonder they’re
up for Best New Band at the forthcoming Classic
Rock Awards (though Chickenfoot will surely beat
them to the punch). Mrs L has also bought me a cool-looking
book called The Wit Of Cricket, which with The Ashes
now a week or so away, I am looking forward to reading.
Last
night was spent at the Underworld in the company
of Ricky Warwick, former frontman of The Almighty.
Now with a catalogue of three full-length records
of his own, Warwick is really finding his feet as
a solo artist. How far he has come since March ’02
when I witnessed his inaugural one-man performance,
opening for Toby Jepson at the Garage. Ricky’s
show has become slick, entertaining and, with the
addition of a few amusing anecdotes, personal. The
only thing I did not like about it was when, introducing
‘The Arms Of Belfast Town’, he said:
“This one is all about how I felt when David
Healy scored that goal against England”, referring
to Northern Ireland’s victory in a World Cup
qualifier at Windsor Park in 2005. That’s
a bit like going into someone’s living room,
pulling down your strides and taking a crap on the
carpet – a little disrespectful. Otherwise,
though, I loved the show. Besides re-visiting a
smattering of Almighty favourites, Warwick added
a country twist to Iron Maiden’s ‘Running
Free’ and delivered ‘Ace Of Spades by
Motörhead with the affectionate intro of “this
is, in my opinion, the greatest love song ever written”.
Towards the end Ricky was joined by co-headliner
Eddie Spaghetti of the Supersuckers to play a couple
of songs by Johnny Cash – hardly one of my
favourite artists, but ‘Cocaine Blues’
was excellent. Here’s the full set-list: ‘The
Church Of Paranoia’, ‘Can’t Live
With Maybe’, ‘Ace Of Spades’,
‘Wild And Wonderful’, ‘Belfast
Confetti’, ‘Mysterioso’, ‘Running
Free’, ‘Jesus Loves You, But I Don’t’,
‘Can’t Wait For Tomorrow’, ‘Ain’t
Comin’ Round’, ‘Free ‘N’
Easy’ (dedicated to Almighty bassist Floyd
London, who was in the crowd with his missus Sophie),
‘Throwin’ Dirt’, ‘The Arms
Of Belfast Town’, ‘Johnny Or Elvis’,
‘Three Sides To Every Story’, ‘Ring
Of Fire’ and an encore of the Clash-popularised
‘I Fought The Law’.
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Wednesday
1st July
Thin
Lizzy have confirmed that guitarist/singer John
Sykes is no longer a member of the group. Hmmm…
I suggest it might be time to draw a line in the
sand and allow the name a little dignity, Mr Gorham…
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