This journal of the comings'n'goings and musings'n'enthusings of Dave Ling will be updated daily - except after days of stress and nights of excess.
Wednesday 29th November
Eddie and I had fun last night at Selhurst, watching a beamback of the game against The Unspeakable Team From The South Coast. Facing our hated rivals once more after so long, it was always going to be a nervy affair. There were no goals but Palace played the better football and had more shots, registering a first Premier League clean sheet of the season. That'll do for me - to have lost against such vile opponents was simply unthinkable. When Benteke finds full fitness once more the results will come. The Eagles have had their wobble, and of course it was a massive one. Now it's the turn of the sides above us. Replace The Welsh Twat and buy a back-up striker at Christmas and I'm pretty sure that we will be okay.
Ooh look... yet more Wishbone re-issue goodies (once again featuring my sleeve essays). I'm a very big fan of 'Twin Barrels Burning' and 'Raw To The Bone' is somewhat underrated. These new editions will be very good indeed. Check out the link here.
Tuesday 28th November
*Sighs deeply* It's time to begin writing my obituary to Malcolm Young for the pages of Classic Rock. My file of vintage cuttings from Sounds, MM and NME and a few old biographies is to hand, plus of course some decent music as a soundtrack. This really ain't gonna be easy.
Sunday 26th November
As you can tell from this photo, thought I'd wear something nice and understated to yesterday's game - hehe. What a dramatic, thrilling and enjoyable victory over the odious M**k Hu**es and his vile Stoke Shitty side at Selhurst, sealed by a 92nd minute strike from skipper Mamadou Sakho. As modelled by Amanda, who really enjoyed the day out (I had to tell her that it's not like this every week!) the lucky wine gums worked! Of course, celebrations at the Albert Tavern went on long into the night. The Roy renaissance gathers pace. COYP!!
Friday 24th November
Deep Purple, Europe and the wonderful cats In Space at the O2 Arena, a mere bus ride from Ling Mansions? Yes please! My heart went out to the Cats who went onstage at 7pm prompt. Due to terrorism issues it can take an aeon to gain entry to the O2 these days. Had Amanda and I not been right at the front of the queue and been among the first to take their seats we'd have missed the band's five-song, 25-minute set. Those that walked in as the band played seemed to enjoy what they heard and the place was maybe half full by the time that CIS signed off with 'Five Minute Celebrity'.
Europe were allotted a full hour, their 12-song set including pulling three tracks from their latest disc 'Walk The Earth', which I'm embarrassed to admit I've yet to hear, and as many from its predecessor 'War Of Kings', a record I've yet to warm to. So I was a bit fuzz about those. Luckily, there were enough classics from the old era ('Rock The Night', 'Superstitious', 'Carrie', 'Scream Of Anger' and old faithful 'The Final Countdown') and its current counterpart ('Last Look At Eden') to warm the old cockles.
Hand on heart, in making the trip to the O2 I was more intent on seeing the Cats and Europe than the headliners, who are out on a farewell tour of indeterminate length. Though the band continues to make good records too often I've been disappointed by Ian Gillan's voice to really care about them anymore. The bloke is 72 and has made some of the most import contributions to rock music but everything comes to an end. Like his band-mates, he will always be a hero to me, but what on earth was he waffling on about between the songs? Frankly, I've arrived at the point where I'd rather stay home and listen to Purple's music from the comfort of my office. So we sat and watched the first half of the show, which to the band's enormous credit was culled largely from most recent releases, and had made a safe getaway to a comfortable seats and cheaper in a nearby pub by the time the first chords of the tiresome 'Smoke On The Water' rang out.
Thursday 23rd November
The teenaged, pudding bowl-haired version of myself would be very astonished by this: My words gracing a brand new boxed set of the Sweet. I was honoured to receive the commission from Sony Music Germany to work on this brilliant project. ‘Sensational Sweet, Chapter One; The Wild Bunch' contains all of the original albums from 1971-78 plus three discs of lost treasures and a total of 30 previously unreleased recordings. It's obscenely good. You can pick it up for about £45 from Amazon... go on, you know you want to!
Wednesday 22nd November
Reports of the death of H.e.a.t are premature. In fact, on last night’s evidence they are still in the rudest of health. Some fans have been decidedly cool on ‘Into The Great Unknown’, a new album that dares to stretch the boundaries a little. On their Facebook page a fan cheekily dismissed ‘Time On Our Side’, one if its more exploratory moments, as “disco-synth”, but to their credit the Swedes have stood their ground. In an interview for Classic Rock, singer Erik Grönwall told me defiantly: “Nobody remembers a coward”. At the Islington Academy, eyelids remained unbatted when H.e.a.t played ‘Time On Our Side’ and its sister track ‘Redefined’, another selection that really upset the AOR purists. The reason was simple – both are just great songs.
Back on the road again after an absence of three years this was the closing show of a month-long European tour and H.e.a.t were in a rabble-rousing, celebratory mood. The indefatigable Grönwall - the best 'new' frontman out there, bar none - crowd-surfed over the heads of the crowd to the bar to sing 'Whole Lotta Rose' in tribute to Malcolm Young, and the party showed no sign of stopping as 11pm drew near. Joined by the evening's two support acts, Black Diamonds and the excellent Degreed, bottles of bubbly were showered over the front rows; nobody wanted to go home. "Let's jam - see what we can come up with for London," Grönwall demanded, and 20 minutes post-curfew this motley onstage gathering was still careering giddily through 'Lucille', 'Johnny B Goode' and 'Highway To Hell'. Let the naysers stay home - it's their loss. This was a wonderful, joyous night, the next step in the trajectory of a band that is *really* going places.
Following a few days of teetering on the brink, it's a fond farewell to David Cassidy. I'm of an age that makes his demise at just 67 years somewhat alarming. I own a quite a few of DC's albums and this will always be my favourite of his songs.
Monday 20th November
Mr Big at Shepherd’s Bush Empire – more than two hours of bloody fantastic music. The solos are simply a part of it all, I suppose. You just have to learn to accept them. The ever-youthful Eric Martin remains one of the best soulful hard rock singers out there and the chemistry and groove summoned by Paul Gilbert and Billy Sheehan really takes some beating. I mean, those were tones to die for. The venue went wild for sporadic percussive contributions from Pat Torpey, their drummer effectively sidelined by Parkinson’s Disease, notably when he took over the kit from Matt Starr for a swoonsome ‘Just Take My Heart’. With the show running past curfew I felt a little sorry for those that snuck out as soon as ‘Defying Gravity’ ended, as they missed a treat when Cormac Neeson of The Answer joined in with a swansong of ‘30 Days In The Hole’. Martin said from the stage that European summer festivals are on the cards in 2018. Let’s have ‘em on at Ramblin’ Man Fair please!!!!
Oh, and a quick 'well done, fellas' to support act The Answer for including 'If You Want Blood' in their set in honour of Malcolm and George Young. That was a nice, classy touch.
Sunday 19th November
I'm still flabbergasted that Everton took a point away from Selhurst Park yesterday – the stats say it better than I possibly could: Palace had 69% possession and 16 shots (twice as many as the visitors), including 7 on target. A whopping 26 fouls were committed by a cynical, relentlessly dirty Toffees side that must have rubbed its hands with glee upon realising the spineless so-called official Anthony Taylor would turn a blind eye to their thuggery. Niasse’s dive for the penalty was an utter a disgrace – even superfan Gary Lineker agreed. Need I say more? Although he made superb second half save the villain was, for once, Julian Speroni, whose blunder allowed Everton back into the game by over-playing when, in a horrific echo of an incident against the same opponents on his home debut in 2004, all he needed to do was hoof the friggin’ ball into the stand. Hodgson has restored the squad’s confidence and got them playing some very good football but when they perform well and fail to not win it’s *so* frustrating… I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
Heard the awful, awful news of Malcolm Young's death in the pub just before the game - a sad farewell to the second greatest rhythm guitarist in rock. This pic was taken when I interviewed the Young brothers for Classic Rock in Berlin in 2003. They were exactly like you imagined. Blokey as fuck, tiny in stature but huge in presence. Angus chain smoked with unbelievable regularity - as soon as one ciggie ran out he had another ready. Malcolm was blunt, friendly and honest. I asked whether they sometimes thought Bon Scott might be looking down - or up! - on AC/DC’s achievements, and Mal grinned: “To be honest, if there is anything in the after-life, he’ll probably be saying, ‘C’mon, guys. Play that one fucking faster, put some fucking grunt into it’. That’s what he was like. Bon wasn’t one for compliments, but he’d always be funny about it.” Malcolm put ‘grunt’ into everything he did. He will be sadly missed.
Saturday 18th November
What was my verdict of a first in-concert sighting of Blondie at a rammed-to-the-rafters Brixton Academy? Well, probably a solid 7/10. Like most people, I’m a fan of a very particular era – the ‘Parallel Lines’ album. Pretty much anything they’ve done since reuniting in 1997 passed me by, I’m sorry to say. I was very happy to hear ‘One Way Or Another’, ‘Hanging On The Telephone’, ‘Call Me’, ‘Picture This’, ‘Atomic’ and ‘Heart Of Glass’ and three-song encore of a dark, haunting ‘Fade Away And Radiate’ (that one *really* shocked me – amazing stuff!), ‘Union City Blue’ and ‘Dreaming’ – much less so ‘Rapture’… anything to do with rap abhors me. And what was the point of covering ‘(You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (To Party!)’ when you omit ‘Denis’, ‘Sunday Girl’, ‘11.59’, ‘(I'm Always Touched by Your) Presence, Dear’, etc etc. But even at the grand old age of 72, Debbie has still got it. Ever-feisty in her ‘Stop Fucking Up The World’ cape, the divine Miss Harry was little short of amazing.
Friday 17th November
Oh dear... another of those annoying gig clashes. I could have spent the night at the Garage watching those excellent Finns the Von Hertzen Brothers. Closer to home, Del Bromham was playing the Beaverwood Club in Chislehurst. However, I opted for Alice Cooper, The Mission and The Tubes at Wembley Arena. The haul across London was pretty time consuming and by the time Amanda and I had collected our tix Fee Waybill and company were already onstage. Though the press seats are usually located at the sides, right on top of the action, we had been placed right at the back of the Arena - almost out in the car park, in fact, and the sound was so quiet that had I farted you’d most likely have heard it above the music. And fuck... IT WAS F-F-F-F-FREEZIN' COLD!!!! (Later on Wayne Hussey would comment upon this fact from the stage). There were no video screens and it all felt a bit anticlimactic, so we left our seats and went for a walk to the bar area to warm ourselves. I'd never see The Mish before, but the missus is a bit of a fan. Blow me down if I didn't enjoy their greatest hit-style set, though I'd love to know how much of what we heard was 'live' or produced by backing tapes.
The Coop is always great - I first saw him in this venue on the 'Constrictor' tour in November 1986 - almost exactly 31 years ago! - with a band that featured Kip Winger on bass and Kane Roberts on guitar. Since then the backing musicians have changed a lot but the show remains comfortably familiar. Tonight we get the gallows sequence and the sexy nurse (Alice's wife Sheryl) but from our distant vantage point it's the full shock-rock effect is somewhat lost. Cooper has made some very underrated solo records these past years but sad to say I wasn't knocked out by the current 'Paranormal'. Lucky, then, that a solitary selection ('Woman Of Mass Distraction') was shoehorned into the show's mid-stages. The best was saved till last when the 'OGs' ('original guys' - the remaining surviving musos that played on the first seven albums) joined in the fun for four songs, Ryan Roxie taking the place of Glen Buxton who died in '97. During the traditional sign-off of 'School's Out', Messrs Cooper, Bruce, Dunaway and Smith were joined by the current line-up in a glorious wall of sound. Sadly, the pix I took on my BlackBerry ain't worth sharing here, though the set-list was pretty formidable: 'Brutal Planet', 'Under My Wheels', 'Lost In America', 'Pain', 'Department Of Youth', 'The World Needs Guts', 'Woman Of Mass Distraction', Guitar Solo, 'Poison', 'Halo Of Flies', Drum and Bass solos, 'Feed My Frankenstein', 'Cold Ethyl', 'Only Women Bleed', 'Paranoiac Personality', 'Ballad Of Dwight Fry', 'Killer (Excerpt)' and 'I Love The Dead', plus the reunion section: 'I'm Eighteen', 'Billion Dollar Babies' , 'No More Mr Nice Guy', ' Muscle of Love' and 'School's Out'.
Thursday 16th November
The Forum was packed for a band responsible for one of the cult pop-rock platters of last year. The Lemon twigs are Brian and Michael D’Addario, a pair of multi-musician/vocalising siblings from Long Island, New York, whose debut album, 'Do Hollywood', caused Mike Portnoy to describe their dayglo sound as “The Beatles meet Jellyfish meet Redd Kross meet Badfinger, [coming] straight out of a Wes Anderson film”. MP was quite right, of course though last night's show turned out to be, in sporting parlance, the proverbial game of game of two halves. Choirboy-voiced Brian fronted first half, before swapping mic and guitar for sticks with elder bro Michael, whose comedic Ministry Of Silly Walks-style high kicks represented danger to all of those around him. The more ferocious approach of D’Addario Junior galvanised proceedings and as the swansong of the set proper, 'As Long As We’re Together', with its Bee Gees-on-crack harmonies was a minor masterpiece. The Twigs signed off with an equally rowdy brand new composition called 'The Queen Of My School' that suggested the second album will hasten their meteoric rise.
Wednesday 15th November
I’m still basking in the unexpected awesomeness of the Helloween reunion show at Brixton. Almost three hours of music and despite all of the bad blood from the past a true sense of fun and camaraderie up on the stage. And the best bit is that you know that Michael Weikath, Kai Hansen et al will not simply 'do a Francis Rossi' - bank the cheque and say that the whole thing was a load of shit. It may sound like a ridiculous statement but after more than four decades tonight I leave the Brixton Academy more in love with heavy metal than ever before!! Hell-ow-fucking-Een! Absolutely superb! Yup... this was a contender for Gig Of The Year.
Tuesday 14th November
I am *really* looking forward to tonight's Pumpkins United show at Brixton Academy. For fans of melodic speed- and power-metal this is the equivalent of Slash and Duff burying the hatchet with Axl to return to GN'R, a merging of Helloween's current line-up and the band from the 'Keeper Of The Seven Keys' era. Michael Kiske's quote in the new issue Classic Rock - "It will probably suck; eight very fat people rolling all over the stage, drunk" gives things that wee bit of an extra edge.
Monday 13th November
Another Sunday night, and yet another trek across London for a gig. First up were The Wild Lies, a young band that features Adrian Smith’s son Dylan on bass. Though dodgy transport did its best to prevent us we arrived in time for the last three songs, the penultimate of which, ‘Mason’s Vial’, was a riff-fuelled behemoth that made me want to hear their album. How lucky, then, that singer Matt Polley presented me with a copy of ‘Prisoner Of Sins’ during the interval – hurrah!
The night’s special guests were Rock Goddess who purred through a tight, punchy set – ‘Satisfied Then Crucified’, ‘Two Wrongs Don't Make A Right’, ‘Back Off’, ‘God Be With You Now’, ‘Flight, ‘Back To You’, ‘It's More Than Rock ‘N’ Roll’ and ‘Heavy Metal Rock ‘N’ Roll’ – leaving the audience hungry for more.
The same applied to the headliners, but for different reasons altogether. For the Lynch Mob, this was a first time in London since 1991. For a while, things were very well indeed, the airing of three consecutive Dokken tunes (‘When Heaven Comes Down’, ‘Into The Fire’ and ‘Hunter’) serving to ignite the mood. However, the gig was mysteriously and suddenly abandoned when George Lynch’s amplifier broke down. A genuine WTF moment if ever I saw one.
Saturday 11th November
I’d been meaning to check out the Hawklords for several years and last night, at the 100 Club, that box was *finally* ticked. First active in the late 1970s as the Hawkwind Mothership spent some time in Dry Dock, the group was reborn in 2008 and has released six albums in as many years, touring the length and breadth of the country. Their current UK trek includes 27 – yes, 27! – dates, with a set-length of more than two hours per night. These shows are mostly comprised of latter-day material, though at the 100 Club we were also treated to ‘Free Fall’ from the original 1978 album ‘25 Years On’, a couple from Bob Calvert’s album ‘Captain Lockheed And The Starfighters’ (‘The Right Stuff’ and ‘Ejection’) and the ‘Sonic Attack’ selection ‘Coded Languages’. These were mostly sung by keyboardist Harvey Bainbridge, a member of the Hawks from 1978-1991, who thanks to an unruly mop of white hair now resembles a missing sibling of Brian May and James May. That or a friendly librarian, possibly?
Fresh songs ‘Ghost In My Machine’, ‘Whisperer’s Downfall’ and ‘New Space’, the latter of which featured a great extended solo from guitarist Jerry Richards, served to fend off any suggestion that the ’Lords dwell too much upon the past, though an encore of ‘Ejection’ featured a cameo from Captain Rizz, the dreadlocked Hawks guest vocalist (or, as he was known back then a ‘space-reggae toaster’) from years gone by.
Comparisons between Hawkwind and Hawklords are unfair; up against Mr Brock and his legions, this is a four-piece band that tours every nook and cranny of the UK on what can only be an extremely limited budget. Their back projections are pretty basic, and stilt-walkers and dancers are conspicuous by their absence, but there’s no mistaking the fact that Hawklords are a tight, effective and highly entertaining unit in their own right.
Thursday 9th November
A phone interview with Joe Elliott, you say? Hmmm... my theory that a longer than average tape would probably be required was bang on the money. Joe loves to talk, and boy is he quotable.
Later on in the afternoon I spoke to Roger Chapman. Always save the most difficult question till last, advises The Journo's Handbook. Okay then. *Takes deep breath*. So... before I let you go, does it annoy you when people say your singing voice sounds a bit like Larry The Lamb? (Luckily, the bloke laughed...)
Wednesday 8th November
I thoroughly enjoyed Marillion's show at the London Palladium - following their sold-out date at the Royal Albert Hall three weeks earlier this was the perfect place to see the band thanks to its A+ front of house sound and dazzling lights. "It's very intimate here, isn't it? A bit like doing a gig at home," Steve Hogarth quipped, "though of course we only have the one balcony at home."
In the wake of that now fabled RAH display the band "mixed up the set-list" (Hogarth's words) which lasted for two hours and 10 mins. There were several tunes from the Fish era - 'Slàinte Mhath' opened the show; a blink-and-you-almost-missed-it 'Heart Of Lothian' seemed slightly incongruous placed between the lengthy, often ponderous song suites of 'El Dorado' and 'The 'Leavers' (both from the current album 'Fuck Everyone And Run (FEAR)'), while the rampant neo-prog of 'Garden Party' and 'Market Square Heroes' both featured in a rousing encore that was juxtaposed by the restraint of 'Three Minute Boy' from the 'Radiation' album.
11 rows back and dead centre in the stalls, my view was simply perfect and the powerful, crystal-clear PA emphasized Steve Rothery's exemplary guitar work - by turns hauntingly brittle and wonderfully raunchy - also the fact that even at 58, Hogarth's voice remains in extremely good nick. Faith reaffirmed I shall not wait another 13 years for my next Marillion gig, that's for sure.
Tuesday 7th November
Tonight, for the first time since 2004 (notwithstanding a slot of last year’s Stone Free Festival), I’m off to see Marillion at the London Palladium. I’ve a rather strange relationship with this band. I saw them twice as a support act at the ‘old’ Marquee in Wardour Street – opening for Spider and Girl respectively – and charted the course to Hammersmith Odeon headliners but like so many others following the split with Fish, my loyalty was split. ‘Vigil…’ was a great album, but for quite a while my allegiance went with Hogarth and company. ‘Seasons End’ is just a masterpiece. But by ‘Anoraknophobia’ and those namechecks for Massive Attack and Radiohead in their interviews, Fish nosed ahead again. Marillion’s gigs descended into an awful boys’ club and I really began to dislike the almost impregnable smugness of their audience, so I stopped going. Their last two albums have been absolute masterpieces, however, so this is gonna be a fascinating night. Having seen those reviews from the RAH, I really can’t wait.
Monday 6th November
Well, what a memorable weekend… Here’s a quick précis:
FRIDAY: Amanda, Eddie and I headed to the Borderline for Romeo’s Daughter and Hand Of Dimes. Playing songs from their debut album ‘Raise’, the Welshmen put in a great support set. Nev MacDonald of Skin fame still has a tremendous set of pipes, and the band’s mix of pomp-rock and AOR is just sumptuous. What else would you expect from group whose roots lay in the much-missed Kooga?
As anyone that knows Eddie will be aware, he’s a fan of pop music and our respective tastes rarely cross. That’s fair enough, I can’t force him to like the same stuff as me. However, this was his second RD gig and the fella stood right behind me, singing along to the choruses of ‘I Cry Myself To Sleep At Night’ and ‘Heaven In The Backseat’ (the latter of which was dedicated to yours truly… how cool!)
After the show with a big smile Eddie declared himself “half-rock”. Brilliant! And of course it was great to catch up with Merv Goldsworthy. (Thanks to Alayne Taylor for the superb piccie).
SATURDAY: Amanda and I spent the night at a packed-out Underworld for the second of two shows from LA Guns. Focussing on the just-released set ‘The Missing Peace’ – their best since the group’s debut – they were on powerful, irresistible form… that is while they played actual songs (preferably their own – what on earth was that stab at ‘Purple Rain’ about?!) This is a band with such great material, coupled with a truly dynamic delivery, but each time they started faffing about with covers and jamming… well, my interest waned. Considerably, if I’m truthful.
SUNDAY: Spurs-Palace at Wembley. Watched this one on the tellybox – cash is very tight at the moment – but it was a familar story. Belying their place in the table, Palace played extremely well… should have taken at least a point from the game, Spurs' goalie was named as the MOTM, but the Eagles were undone by the home side’s only decent shot on target. Like the pundits that spoke afterwards I’m still convinced that the drop can be avoided, but taking a healthy crop of points from the next string of games (Everton, Stoke, the Unspeakable Scum From The South Coast, West Brom, Bournemouth, Twatford, Leicester and Swansea) is absolutely vital.
Wednesday 3rd November
Even a PA malfunction could not derail last night’s all-star gig from Michael Schenker at London’s Shepherd’s Bush Empire. I’m told it was a power cut that removed the front of house sound during ‘Desert Song’, causing an unscheduled break, but the show was able to continue thanks to the venue’s generator.
Having witnessed Schenker a decade ago at a saddening, booze-addled all-time low at the UK’s Rock And Blues Custom Show, his current mind-set is an absolute joy to behold. 2017’s Michael pulls gleefully dorkish faces whilst undertaking exaggerated runs across the lip of the stage and actually has fun as he performs - even talking to the audience! The band – Chris Glen, Ted McKenna and Steve Mann – was first rate, and the fans went wild for a parade of the guitarist’s former singers. Robin McAuley was the pick of the bunch; hearing the likes of ‘Save Yourself’ and ‘No Time For Losers’ again makes me think I should dig out those McAuley-Schenker albums again today. Joking about keeping his clothes on with Michael for the first time in the UK since the fabled willy-waving incident in ’82, Graham Bonnet acquitted himself well but, as feared, Gary Barden proved the night’s Achilles’ heel.
However, not even the train-wreck that went on during ‘Let Sleeping Dogs Lie’ could put a mocker on such a triumphant display. ‘Rock Bottom’ is a song that I could cheerfully avoid for the rest of my days but Schenker’s rendition at the Empire was simply exquisite, almost out of this world in fact, and following it with ‘Doctor Doctor’, ‘Shoot Shoot’, ‘Natural Thing’ and ‘Lights Out’ (the latter featuring all three singers) was, of course, a masterstroke. Thinking about it now, even Schenker’s bumbled sign-off – “Auf weidesehen. See you next time... alligator” – is making me smile. (Thanks to Eric Duvet for the fantastic photograph).
Tuesday 2nd November
Today there's another of those annoying gig clashes in London. LA Guns are playing a 'best-of' set at the Underworld. I saw them doing something similar at the Islington Academy back in March, so am heading instead to Saturday's sister show, which focusses on their excellent new record 'The Missing Peace'. Tonight is all about a trip to Shepherd's Bush Empire for the Michael Schenker Fest – the legendary guitarist in cahoots with Gary Barden, Graham Bonnet and Robin McAuley on vox, plus instrumentation from Chris Glen, Ted McKenna and Steve Mann.
Oh, and look what I found whilst trawling through a pile of old issues of RAW magazine - a shot from the Spring of '93 of myself reviewing the singles with James LaBrie and Mike Portnoy of Dream Theater and Poison Idea frontman Jerry A. What the heck is Jerry doing to that photo of DT?! If you were wondering, Annihilator's 'Set The World On Fire' was single of the fortnight.
Wednesday 1st November
Who says that men cannot multi-task? With my review deadline looming I’m currently reading the autobiography of Dave Hill, Slade's superyob guitarist, whilst taking today's workout. I've also found the time to update the Playlist and YouTube.