M1-11 Wagner's Ring in One Minute
There's another David Bedford who was a British athlete (10,000 metres world record in 1973) well-known for running while wearing red socks. This is not he.This David Bedford is running, alright. He's running BASCA (the British Academy of Composers, Songwriters and Authors). A typical role for David, for he is one of those generous people with a broad outlook who is ideally suited to his much-needed role as organiser of massed forces such as choirs, orchestras - and now most of Britain's composers. While I hate "lumping people in" with each other, as it can be demeaning, for me he comes into that category of deeply creative orchestra-focussed Brits which includes Michael Nyman, Gavin Bryars (both Miniatures artists - twice), Neil Ardley (a gentle jazz genius featured on this link together with Ivor Cutler, another miniaturist - both sadly RIP) and John Tavener (who recorded for the Beatles Apple label).David has a biography ( here and here ) which is a veritable cornucopia of musical adventures and excellence, including: playing with miniaturist Lol Coxhill in Kevin Ayers' band, various projects with Mike Oldfield, arranging strings for such luminaries as Elvis Costello, Billy Bragg and Roy Harper, and various contributions to the scores for some marvellous films such as "The Killing Fields", "Supergrass", "Absolute Beginners", "Meeting Venus", and "Orlando." As choral coordinator for the overpoweringly beautiful music in "The Mission," I am guessing he must have met the legendary composer of that film score, Ennio Morricone, and perhaps even the star, Robert de Niro. If truth be known, he has probably met nearly every rock star and classical music legend that has existed in England since the 60's during the course of his astonishingly multifaceted career.Now, with all these myriad contacts, collaborations, threads, networks and achievements, I wonder if anyone has ever actually heard David sing, before or since the recorded his Miniatures piece? I am so glad we vetted the string synth idea and decided he should have a go at the microphone - and what a range he has! I leave it up to the listener to figure out how many octaves he covers (only one voice, a fiddly bit halfway through, was recorded at half speed, then sped up an octave). That high note at the end is way out of my league (I'm a tenor, but not a counter-tenor!) and I can still remember the mixture of strain and satisfaction on his face when he hit it.How he managed to decide which themes from Wagner's vast "Ring" cycle (I can spot the famed "Ride of the Valkyries") is also beyond my ken, but it is a perfect example of what I had in mind early on in the Miniatures project - to actually take large existing pieces of music and, well, make them smaller. (Later on I simply asked for one-minute pieces, to give the album more scope and variety). David does this brilliantly, somehow with his rather shrill falsetto and reedy bass summoning up the spirit (if not the actual sound) of an entire orchestra engaged in a very German fanfare. At times his very authentic-sounding brass chords remind me of The Mills Brothers, who were brilliant at that sort of performance.It's a very British sort of thing, I think, to be able to move with agility from parping trumpet noises with your lips to massing orchestral and choral forces to take us to the far reaches of some distant galaxy, and in the very short time I spent with David, I got the distinct impression that he is continually having a good old chuckle inside, without most of us realising it. And good on him for it!Late addition - uploaded to youtube today: One of David's recent community-minded musical events was the Bristol Remix Songwriting Project, about which he talks briefly (from 4:45) in this youtube vid.Next up... a musical microdot?Read/Leave Comment
M1-10 Andy 'Thunderclap' Newman
M1-10 Andy the Dentist
First of all, big thanks to blog reader and old friend Ron Eve for spilling the beans on who the next Miniatures blog artist was going to be. And that after I had tried to obfuscate the issue by inserting a link to another Newman (Barnett, the US painter - other targets that were considered were Paul Newman and Alfred E. Neuman). You may now be getting used to the fact that some of the links I include in my posts lead to surprises, quirky angles on the subject, etc. I feel that it would be far too conventional to have links going to people's official websites, Wikipedia entries, etc. Those are so easy to access, I leave them up to the reader to search for them.Now of course the good news is that Andy "Thunderclap" Newman is back in action again, treading the boards with a new version of his eponymous band and tickling the ivories after a long break from The Biz. I found out about this via a Facebook connection to his current manager and veteran rock shaker-and-mover, Ian Grant. And for those few who do not know who Thunderclap Newman - the man or the band - are - here is a completely conventional link to a video of their magnificent world-shattering 1969 #1 hit "Something In The Air." And another link to a surreal promo film they made at the time. And their Wikipedia entry, very detailed and interesting.Astonishingly, there is no existing video of their Top of the Pops appearances ("Something in The Air" stayed at #1 for 3 weeks, holding off The Beatles and Elvis). Why? Because the BBC have erased the tapes. Big round of applause for the BBC - well done, chaps!So let's enjoy instead, this video of the new Thunderclap Newman performing live at a recent concert. The members include Mark Brzezicki from Big Country on drums, and Josh Townshend, nephew of Pete, on rhythm guitar and vocals.The world's biggest saxophone (see photo caption above) was, thankfully, left at home on the several occasions when Andy visited my tiny studio bedsit to record his miniature. He did however manage to lug a baritone sax up the four flights of narrow stairs, and each time I opened the door to a wheezing Andy, his miniature Yorkshire terrier ran between my legs and at lightning speed sniffed every nook and cranny in the place. My piano, fortunately, had not been tuned in months, so it sounded suitably out of tune. Ideal for the music hall song Andy chose to record. As an intro he told one of the worst jokes ever recorded, to which unfortunately I was a party. Sorry about that, I should have cracked my producer's whip a little harder. But it is quintessential Andy. And as another behatted moustachio'd eccentric who played keyboards alongside a team of raunchy down-to-earth rockers, I know sometimes one feels a little isolated and a misfit, and consoles oneself with weird humour. OK all together: "Aaahhh…"I'd like to dedicate this blog post to the two members of the original Thunderclap Newman who are sadly no longer with us, John "Speedy" Keen (who wrote and sang "Something In The Air") and Jimmy McCulloch. Jimmy was a wit and a wag as well as a prodigious precocious talent, and I'm sure Paul McCartney loved having him play in Wings. As for Speedy, I have fond memories of seeing him actually standing on a soapbox with a loudacoustic guitar and busking his heart out to the queues outside various big gigs, a Woody Guthrie-like icon pleading for solidarity in early 70's London. Rock In Peace.Finally, back to Andy - here seen in a rare video where he sings while being very pleasantly distracted from his performance, a moment I am sure still lingers vividly in his rainbow-coloured surreal memory cells.POSTSCRIPT: Sadly, and all too soon, Andy Newman left us suddenly, aged 73, on March 30th, 2016. Cause of passing not yet known. RIP.Next up: a German musical monument gets severely shrunk...Read/Leave Comment
M1-9 Mary Longford
M1-9 Body Language
I'm afraid there has been another hefty gap since my last post, mainly due to my setting up that art exhibition at Fireking Cafe/Gallery here in Tokyo. I'm realising that I need to speed things up a little, or this blog will go on for years. It is just as well, then, that while I have a soft spot for this track, and the charming lady who made it, I really don't have a great deal to tell you about it or her.Mary Longford was a miniaturist before we met (as explained above), and although we came into contact through Time Out magazine, it turned out she was a neighbour, living just a minute or two by bicycle from me, quite close to the thriving Portobello Road area. After visiting her rather smart large apartment I got the impression that she had a kind and dedicated husband with a good job (in the City, perhaps) who supported her in her outlandish theatrical endeavours.She seemed to have made quite an impact in the, shall we say, indie theatre scene, as evidenced by her write-up in Time Out and the snippets of information from the Miniatures poster, shown above. It is slightly mystifying to me, then, that in this all-access internet age I have googled her to within an inch of her life and not found any more information re her subsequent career or her current whereabouts.If anyone knows how to reach Mary Longford I would be delighted if you would drop me a line. In the meantime, enjoy this rather touching way she explains her attitude to her perfectly imperfect freckled feet, hands, and breasts.Having dealt with this post in a disgracefully brief number of paragraphs, I will now move on to the next, to cover another wonderfully British personage who I am glad to say is visible and active in the public sphere these days.Next up: A man? A band? A piano? A dentist? All?Read/Leave Comment
M1-8 Stinky Winkles
M1-8 Opus
A Very Happy New Year and apologies for the long gap since the last blog. Apart from Christmas, New Year, and my birthday on January 1st, I was busy shooting a new batch of light paintings and preparing for an art exhibition at a fascinating restaurant in Tokyo whose name and theme comes from a 1940's style of glassware. OK, now on to the Winkles. Those interested in truly alternative music of the out-there-on-the-edge-free-improv kind rather than the check-shirts-grunge kind (also a valid form of expression) please read on and investigate today's blog and these links...In the late 70's I used to visit the London Musicians' Collective, a dark and rather foreboding building in Camden, North London, where intense avant-garde (and occasionally "'aven't got a clue") performances would occur. I sometimes felt rather intimidated by the ultra-serious stares of some of the participants, and rarely chatted to anyone (due to a rather introverted mood which I slip into at times), but I still experienced some thrilling musical moments. One of the few accessible, genial chaps I did meet was sax supremo Lol Coxhill, who later became a pal and participated on both Miniatures albums. We also made an ambient album in 1980 of which I am still very proud - "Slow Music."Perhaps I might have had a bit more fun and social interaction if I'd gone to the more rural and welcoming Digswell Arts Trust near Welwyn Garden City, Hertfordshire, which was supported by the likes of Henry Moore, Herbert Read, and Roland Penrose. Lol Coxhill was active there, and one of his most notable collaborations with a fellow Digsweller was with pianist and Stinky Winkles founder Veryan Weston on music for Derek Jarman’s film Caravaggio (1986). Without further ado, here are 8 more links Veryan kindly sent me, which document in detail, with scores, audio, photos, etc., his musically rich ongoing career, the last being a link re a recent work for 9 voices broadcast on BBC Radio 3:Veryan Weston (Xanga)Veryan Weston (Myspace)Veryan Weston (MusicNow)Veryan Weston (Emanem)Veryan Weston (Musbook)Veryan Weston (Jazz.com)Veryan Weston (EFI)Veryan Weston (JazzOn3)A few years before starting to visit the LMC (at one of their events a piano was meticulously destroyed on stage) I had a passing interest in and attraction to the skeletal, brittle textures of serial music and the big three comprised of Berg, Schönberg and Webern. As the last link shows, Anton Webern was an early minimalist/miniaturist in terms of the scale, length and depth of his works. Also he was one of the first to utilise the concept of "klangfarbenmelodie" - which I took to mean, composing in terms of tones only, rather than melodies - a possible premonition of ambient, trance or drone music. The results in Webern's case are not quite like that but the concept moved me deeply when I read about it, and I was transported into higher realms above and beyond such mundane human concerns as melody, harmony and rhythm.It was very refreshing, then, to come back down to earth with a thump and hear Stinky Winkles attack a Webern piece with such gusto and even add an improvised intro. Even more of a surprise was when I heard the original, which in the right hands can exhibit an equal amount of gusto, such as in this fine performance by the Penderecki String Quartet. As I for some reason failed to mention on the original "Miniatures" LP - the piece in question is the 3rd movement of Webern's 5 Movements for String Quartet, opus 5. I think a very fine choice of piece for a rousing improv band's one and only available recording (AFAIK).Oh - that name? Well, before we talk about the band's name, the band's founder, Veryan, is named after a village in Cornwall which has round houses in it, from which his mother's family hailed. His sister was picturesquely christened Armorel. As for the band's possibly-lewd name, I had a possibly-far-fetched idea that it may have been inspired by a raunchy line from James Joyce's "Ulysses" - "those pigs of men I suppose never dream of washing it from 1 years end to the other." Apparently the reality is more light-hearted - it originated from some fresh winkles bought by Lol Coxhill in Southend-on-Sea and left too long in his van.Next up: a very nice lady self-deprecatingly lists some of her own body parts...Read/Leave Comment
M1-7 Robert Wyatt
M1-7 Rangers in the Nightst
Robert Wyatt is "my main man." What that means is, he is probably closer to my musical heart than anyone else on the planet. Having been called such things as "the avant-pop legend" (in one of several reviews of his recent collaborative album "For The Ghosts Within"), he has been placed on quite a pedestal in recent years, and deservedly so. But rather than thinking of him as some weird, experimental genius, for me his complex, charismatic music is as natural as breathing, and I find a deep contentment arises in me even when listening to some of his most radical (from radix=root) musical adventures. A feeling that he himself expressed in an interview when he said something like, "even when I am at my lowest emotionally, utterly depressed by the state of the world, I can say to myself - well there's jazz - you can't knock it."I am chuffed and cheered that due to sheer lucky timing (and my tardiness in writing posts for this blog) Robert's track is the one I am able to present to you this Christmas. So here on a nippy Tokyo morning at 7am I thought I'd try Googling "Robert Wyatt Christmas" and immediately found - this!!!
Click on the jolly pic to hear this lovely track from his collaboration album "For The Ghosts Within." Some may ask, why on earth did he cover a corny old chestnut like "What a Wonderful World?" Well, think about it - the bloke who sang it first was no mean musician himself! And they both sport irresistible smiles born of lives of hard knocks and unswerving musical dedication.I first hooked up with Robert via the kind introduction of a neighbour of mine in Notting Hill, Julie Christie. I had heard that she knew Robert and sent her a note, and in a very short time had acquired his address, a lovely spot in Twickenham.(side note - the Wyatt-Christie connection happened because his wife Alfreda had been working as an assistant on the Nic Roeg film "Don't Look Now" on location in Venice in 1972, starring Julie. Robert went along too but had nothing to do all day, so to relieve his boredom, Alfreda bought him a cheap Italian "Gem Riviera" organ, which ended up becoming his trademark keyboard sound with its lovely, wistful slow vibrato.)I used to bump into Julie on occasion in our street. She of course looked drop-dead gorgeous and sported an amazing hairstyle similar to Pinups-era David Bowie, where each hair seemed to stand up on its own and move independently, rather like a sea anemone. I have never seen hair quite like it since, and sadly have never seen a photo of her from this period.So off I went to Twickers carrying my trusty Revox. Alfreda greeted me cheerily and took me in to meet Robert. While I set up the recording gear, a bottle of white wine was swiftly opened and Robert downed a couple of glasses, quite nervously it seemed. I put the Revox into record mode and off he went. Some languid piano improvs ensued, as Robert gazed through the windows at the verdant green garden outside: then quite suddenly he went into Frank Sinatra's "Strangers in the Night," at which point I nearly spluttered into my wine glass, but managed to stay silent. He kept singing the title over and over, accompanied by his beloved minor 9th chords, and the feeling became more and more eerie with each repetition."Do what you like with that," said Robert generously. A few days later I had the time to sit down and listen to the recording. The one-minute limit got me thinking how to consolidate it into a nice compact arrangement. A loop seemed a good idea (from listening to the loop at length, the rearranged title was created). The phased vocal loops increase in intensity, Robert's rolling piano builds gradually - and finally that lovely voice comes in, leading to the grand finale with several Roberts singing the last "you've got me." The track was built up by repeatedly copying the ever-growing mix from one stereo tape recorder to another and back again while adding new layers (no multitrack machines in Pipe Studios). The tape noise built up too, so rather than trying to filter it out and lose clarity on his voice, I masked the noise by adding some insect-like synth burbles on my trusty VCS3."I like the little insect sounds," wrote Robert after hearing the mix. As usual, it was written in lovely coloured crayons on one of his homemade postcards fashioned from discarded items such as an empty cornflakes box (he was way of ahead of most of us when it came to recycling). Nearly 30 years later he recycled a letter I wrote letting him know that Miniatures had been reissued as a double CD, and asking him where to send the modest royalties that had accrued. He returned my letter, adding a note at the bottom: "Dear Morgan, thanks and good luck with the splendid reissue. Don't worry about the pennies, didn't do it for that." Succinctly and kindly, he had summed up the feelings that I think were common to most of the artists involved in this nutty project thrown together on a shoestring.Apart from "Little Red Robin Hood" a rough'n'ready but endearing 1999 documentary covering Robert's life story, there is an unforgiveable lack of videos available, except for various odds'n'sods on youtube. An excellent BBC program from 2002 called "Free Will and Testament (The Robert Wyatt Story" contains some beautiful studio performances. Here's an excerpt. In it I noticed Robert enjoyed a glass of wine and a fag while performing, though I hear that he has since quit both. Well done - here's to your good health sir!My sheer admiration for Robert's keyboards, drums, trumpet, composing, physical bravery and singing does not necessarily extend to me wanting to imitate him. However, a number of people have remarked on the fact that my seldom-heard singing voice can sound rather like him. It was noticed as long ago as 1974 when I sang these backing vocals ("Oh dear, Oh Gawd" etc.) on Mott the Hoople's last single:Saturday GigsIn 2007, the Delta Sax Quartet invited me to arrange a track by Soft Machine (Robert's band 1966-71) for their album "Dedicated to You... But You Weren't Listening". I greedily decided not only to merge two Softs tracks ("Moon in June" plus "Out-Bloody-Rageous" became "Outrageous Moon" - which I dedicated to Keith Moon, old drinking mate and madcap genius drummer for The Who), but to sing on it as well. Robert is amazingly gifted at being able to leap tall intervals at a single bound, and it took me a while to get through the musical obstacle course of his fascinating Monk-like vocal melodies. Hear a short clip here.These days, Robert's unique voice pops up here and there on gorgeous films and thrilling superstar gigs. He has truly become a living national treasure and, for over forty years having ploughed a long, meandering, ever-deepening furrow, continues to rush out albums at the rate of about one every five years. And every one is a gem well worth waiting for.I'm dreaming of a Wyatt Christmas!Next up - Webern gets down and dirty...Read/Leave Comment
M1-6 Pete Challis & Phil Diplock
M1-6 My Way
Pete Challis is a genial musician and artist who used to live but a few minutes' walk from my home studio in Notting Hill. With his friend Phil Diplock (RIP - see below) they put together this strange synthesized mockney take on a Sinatra classic. The extraordinary thing is that on Miniatures 1 there are not one, but two Sinatra classics. Both uncalled-for (by me, that is). The odds against this happening are colossal. Or as Oscar Wilde wrote in "The Importance of Being Earnest" - "Losing one parent is a misfortune, but losing both parents is plain carelessness." It was my carelessness and lack of quality control that allowed such a situation to happen, and I apologise profoundly for it.Actually, not. I had, since 1956 (when I was 6) been a fan of Frank's brilliant Nelson Riddle-arranged album "Songs for Swinging Lovers." The scintillating big band arrangements grabbed my imagination, and still do. It was also the first ever number one album in the UK, so I guess my parents got caught up in the rampant British enthusiasm for this jewel of an LP.As for "My Way," in 1985 when I moved to Japan, it was about the only English-language song available in most karaoke bars (the other was "Yesterday") so I found myself having to grit my teeth and sing it (not easy, that) to the best of my abilities, though if the mood took me I would give it a bit of the Sid Vicious treatment. No-one seemed to notice. (Interestingly, the strings on Sid Vicious's version were arranged by Penguin Cafe Orchestra leader, the late and much-missed Simon Jeffes, who appeared on both Miniatures albums.)I met Sid once at the famed Speakeasy Club in Soho, where he was grabbing girls at random by the scruff of the neck demanding that they buy him a drink. They seemed to like it. Between grabs I had a chance to exchange a few words with him and he asked me what instrument I played. "Piano," I replied. "That's not very violent, is it?" he insisted. "You haven't heard me play, mate," I quipped.OK, enough digressing (although if there ever was an album that merited digression, it is this one). Pete and Phil seem to have kept a pretty low musical profile since the 80's, so there is not a great deal more I can say about them. Pete now lives in Tuscany amid natural splendour and tranquillity. He did once paint a picture of yours truly and my doppelgänger from a photograph I sent him of me sitting in a WWII submarine (it was in Tampa, Florida, and was open to tourists. I had holidayed there soon after Miniatures 1 was released, on a £10 ticket provided by Freddie Laker Airlines). I recently asked him what became of the painting and he kindly sent me this photo of it (click to enlarge):
I like the inclusion of the lovely old school clock (both painted and real). Pete added this note: you can of course do whatever you want with the picture - it no longer exists - I dumped all of my art work when coming here - the weight of history got too much.Which reminded me that on leaving the UK to live in India, (then Belgium, then the US, and now Japan) I sold my apartment and handed over my entire tape archive to Pete - all my demos, masters, Miniatures recordings used and unused - the whole shebang - to erase and record new music over, to his heart's content. None of the recordings exist any more, as far as I know. Yes, I'm afraid the weight of history was already bearing down on me at the tender age of 32 and I needed to cut free and head for new pastures. Apologies to those who might have been hoping for some bonus Miniatures tracks, out-takes, etc. - they're gorn. Most of my possessions and instruments including rarities such as a VCS3 and a Clavioline also went for a song.I guess "My Way" is appropriate indeed: "Regrets, I've had a few..."But then again,Too few to mention.(PS - Phil Diplock passed away on May 12, 2011. Sincere condolences to all his family and friends. Pete Challis has placed a memorial song for him on youtube.)Next up - another very British, and very beautiful, approach to Sinatra...Read/Leave Comment
M1-5 John Otway
M1-5 Mine Tonight
www.johnotway.comTo even think that John Otway could get it together to have "dot-com" added after his name is astounding. He has always been considered by many as delightfully non-compos-mentis. As Professor Wiki explains, "although typically used in law, this term can also be used metaphorically or figuratively; i.e. when one is in a confused state, intoxicated, or not of sound mind." Those last three expressions would I dare say be a fair description of how most people - fans especially - lovingly think of dear John. For those who know him not (those who do will already have glissed over this intro with a knowing sigh), take a look at this video (which I know may disappear in time, in which case search Youtube for his version of "House of the Rising Sun" with hilarious pre-scripted audience participation). Not convinced he's a looner? OK, try this video (renowned UK TV live rock show; singer jumps on amp, falls off, injures self, but keeps singing). There are today 493 Otway videos on Youtube . Go on - have a ball - it's nearly Christmas.John Otway from the start was aware (or proud? or told?) that he had no talent as a singer-songwriter, but in any event was put on this earth to be A True Star. So, starting in the late 70's he literally threw himself into an amazingly manic stage act which includes: * somersaulting while playing guitar * singing into a mike while eating it * bashing self on head with same mike * tearing cheap white shirt open to express the fabulous passion he puts into every number * etc. * a lot more etc. I used to go and see him and his sidekick Wild Willy Barrett (who was a proper musician but did have a steel guitar mounted on a trolley so he could slide the guitar rather than the bottleneck, and also was prone to sawing his guitar in half while playing it) regularly at pubs and clubs in those punky days. Absolutely guaranteed huge fun and laughter with/at, and astonishingly, some great music too. Pete Townshend of The Who became a fan and produced some of John's early singles (even playing bass when needed).As I won't be going into a detailed biog here (this is a blog, not a biog) I'll just skip forward a couple of decades to the part where John came up with a unique idea for a world tour - to book various world-famous halls such as Carnegie Hall and Sydney Opera House, then ensure a sellout by renting a Jumbo jet and actually taking his audience with him. He succeeded in getting a large part of the organising done, but the project crumbled when he only got half the number of customers needed to make it feasible. Now, while John loves to make success out of failure and is brilliant at it, I for one would love to see his World Tour materialise one day. Meanwhile, he succeeded splendidly with his annual winter coach trips to France where he performs on the coach and lets the well-wrapped audience chuckle as he tempts death by swimming fully clothed in the freezing French sea.(digression) During the process of inviting artists to join the Miniatures project, I somehow was able to get through and leave a message for Wild Man Fischer (no relation). He called me back several times from the USA, collect of course, and shouted quite a lot, fairly incomprehensibly. One phrase he used a lot was "my head hurts" (incidentally, King Crimson's brilliant, intelligent, articulate sax man Ian McDonald said the same thing while being driven to audition for my Morgan prog-rock band in 1972). Anyway, once it looked like the Wild Man was not going to manage even a minute of recording (if I'd had my wits about my I'd have recorded his phonecall - as I did 20 years later with Jane Siberry) I was delighted when our very own Wild Man Mr. Otway agreed to come on board.But then, he came up with this tear-jerkingly beautiful love ballad... there's no accounting for wild men, is there? Anyway, in 1978 I'd had my full share of wildidity (an Overend Watts word) when I was asked to play on John's album "Where Did I Go Right?" (produced by Miniatures artiste/Bonzo/Rutle, the very wondrous Neil Innes, and Steve James, son of Sid James, blessed with a similar dirty laugh). A tour soon followed. This was no fabled World Tour, however. Like the reformed fictional Strange Fruit in the funniest (and most true-to-life) rock movie "Still Crazy," we were bundled off to Holland (i.e. the sticks) to see what we could make of it - and what the locals would make of us. The band, consisting of John, myself on keys, the cool and funky Paul Martinez, bs, and the deadly duo of Ollie Halsall, gtr, and John Halsey, dr (featured in the first post in this blog) had a whale of a time onstage, and when off, avoided marijuana cafes and went to the Van Gogh and Stedelijk museums instead (well, Ollie and I did). Hard to believe? 15 photos follow (please click to enlarge):
We did make it home OK - not like an earlier jaunt with my first band The Love Affair, where we slept all night in a freezing van on the docks, waiting for the ferry, and woke at 6am to try and consume - and keep down - rancid toast and coffee while watching tough, wizened French dockers chomping on omelettes washed down with cognac. Ugh.The heady days of stardom continued in 1979, with Otway and myself donning my Mott the Hoople piano jackets for these cover photos (click to enlarge):
...of my 7" single release featuring my sentimental piano version of one of Otway's greatest love songs, "Genève" (related pic here). It sold in the dozens. But kudos to Cherry Red Records for releasing, well any bloody old thing by blokes they liked. A far cry from the relentless pressure to make hits exerted by Sony (then CBS) on Mott the Hoople, to the point where Ian Hunter had a nervous breakdown and quit the band, i.e., killed the band. Cherry Red are still going. Sony, doubtless, are still killing.Rant over. John is one of the freshest, funniest, most likeable lunatics it has been my great good fortune to meet and play with and he still stumbles on (was going to say soldiers on - wrong word) bringing joy and laughter to millions (OK, dozens). To quote from that brilliant "Still Crazy" film (also spoken by a keyboard player) - "love you, man." Also love Willy for giving you solid if splintering musical support all these years. If you have managed to read thus far, it is now time to plunge into those 493 Otway youtube vids - Cheers!PS - Mott the Hoople have a tribute band in the UK called Not the Hoople. So where's John Notway???PPS - John has written two books about his runcible (google it) life: one is called "I Did It Otway" - which leads us nicely into:Next up - the first of two lethal attacks on Sinatra...Read/Leave Comments
M1-4 Morgan Fisher
M1-4 Green and Pleasant
In my tiny 5th floor (no lift) bedsit flat/studio In Linden Gardens, Notting Hill (bought for a song, sold a couple of years later when I was broke and wanted to travel; it would now be worth over 20 times what I paid for it) I had a washing machine which, when it went into spin mode, screamed like a banshee - I mean, really deafening. It was bearable if I was wearing headphones and listening to loud music, which I often was while washing clothes. I for a long time had planned to try and use that infernal sound to play a melody, and my Miniatures track was the perfect opportunity. Of course there were no samplers back in 1980 (the Fairlight was still evolving and would be horrendously expensive and only for the likes of Wonders and Gabriels). However, musique concrète had been around for over 30 years and besides, it was French, so I fancied that. Indeed I had already used it on my second "Hybrid Kids" album, "Claws," where I recorded the ear-bustingly loud sounds of scaffolding being loaded onto a truck outside my flat, and looped it into a clanging beat for one song.(continuing slight digression) - it seemed a good way to deal with nasty sounds from my neighbourhood: by confronting them and turning them from noise into music. In a similar way John Cage confronted the pressure of having to operate the massive and complex mixing board at IRCAM by sitting down for a while and making a drawing of it. Then it seemed less intimidating. I did exactly the same thing when I took delivery of a large Akai multitrack recorder in '86 in Tokyo. It really works. (PS - the Cage link is to a site where you have the chance to buy his "4'33" - a silent piece - and help make it this year's UK Christmas hit. Silent Night! Imagine that on Top of the Pops!).By wrestling my washing machine to the right angle off the floor while spinning, I could ensure that the mechanical shrieking continued unabated at maximum volume. I then, under no little pressure and urgency (rather like trying to work under the Niagara Falls) was able to quickly record it into my Revox B77 (the mike as far away as possible to handle the massively high level, and catch some of the room's ambience) before slamming off the machine and collapsing onto a nearby sofa, ears ringing. I could now at leisure (and at a more human volume level) edit the sound, and by varispeeding the B77 copy it to another tape recorder to create various notes of the scale, then clip these into short pieces of tape to create the required melody.The song I chose - "Jerusalem" - (I renamed it) is for me one of the very few great melodies I can recall from the brain-numbingly dreary morning assemblies I had endured daily for seven years in Hendon County Grammar School. How Christianity can take the joy out of life (and what to say about prayer?) is staggering. Japan being non-Christian and not even especially Buddhist (people here choose freely from these religions as well as Shinto and others, depending on how and where they want to conduct their next family ceremony) is a delightfully light-hearted and sexually cheerful country by comparison.I neglected to mention in the original sleeve notes that the lyrics of "Jerusalem" were taken from the opening lines of the poem "Milton" by the great English poet, artist and mystic William Blake (click on his name to see an extensive and impressive archive of his life and work). Blake was a gifted child and studied art formally from the age of ten. Unfortunately it may be true that his art killed him, due to the fumes he was continually inhaling while exposing copper to acid during the unusual engraving process he favoured. His very last book, completed on his deathbed, was a version of "Jerusalem" (not the song; this was his greatest epic work on the fall of Albion - no two copies are the same as he would alter the text and colours between each printing). It sold for a mere 5 guineas (a quarter of its regular price), but enough to cover the cost of his funeral.As for the composer, Parry, I did rather overdo the bit about his multiple injuries, but apparently he was a keen runner, swimmer and climber. He also has the air of a compassionate man; he wrote "Jerusalem" in response to a request to compose an inspiring song to raise the morale of the public during the first World War. It was immediately taken up by the suffragette movement, with which he was strongly in sympathy. Just two years later, he died in the global flu epidemic. Apart from all that, it is a rattling good tune, still stirs the hearts of millions, and nearly 100 years old, is now raising money for charity.Back to the recording process: the track kicks off with a loud sustained note snitched from a recording of an ensemble of 12 German cellists, supported by a rousing drum loop (I had collected several reels of "drums only" mixes from various rock bands I knew, with their permission to loop them freely for projects of my own). A phrase from a 78rpm disk of yodelling follows, and then the melody starts up, sounding a little like a weird accordion. It is actually taken from an LP demonstrating instruments of the orchestra, in which each instrument rather handily played a single long note which I could record and use to create melodies. I am not sure which instruments were "sampled" in this way as the process seems to have taken away much of their character. But at least they sound somewhat natural and I found this much more intriguing than using, say, a synthesizer - and still do.In between the phrases I inserted some gung-ho words from one of my numerous obscure used record purchases - a 60's single advertising French beauty treatments, thus: "La friction! La douche! Bon humeur pour toute la journée!!!"The melody continues with my own voice sped-up, then slowed-down, then the 12 cellists kick back in, answered by those washing machine screeches (and commented on with manic laughs from Ariel Bender). A surprisingly normal guitar phrase pops up (followed quickly by the washing machine turning off - blessed relief), and the grand finale has at least 4 different choirs simultaneously singing the wonderful closing line in various keys. Our French beautician gets the last word: "C'est terminée!!!" Which I was very glad to hear after working on this track for about two weeks.For my pic on the Miniatures poster I found a shop that had a very early scanner, into which I fed a photo of myself, then had it printed it on to a T-shirt with a funky dot-matrix printer. I then photocopied the shirt and used Letraset to add the musical dynamic markings to the copy. So now you know I'm mezzo-forte. The middle way.In 2006 I was asked to create a 10-second video for a Ford website to illustrate the "joie de vivre" of their latest car, so in similar fashion to which I'd made my miniature, I cobbled this together from some 8mm pixilated films I'd made with my family, in our garden in Finchley in 1965. Some "hand colouring" (added one frame at a time in Photoshop), a sprinkling of music from one of my live recordings, an edit here, a crop there, and voila:[cincopa AELASXa6BHB-]A little inspiration there from Frank Zappa's "conceptual continuity" process where he re-used certain lyric themes or took tapes out of his massive library of live recordings and edited them and overdubbed on them. I've always thought you can't beat live recordings for freshness and energy... time for some lengthy digression...In Japan in 1986 I was fooling around with a new (at the time) Yamaha DX7 II synthesizer I came across in a rehearsal studio, and thought I'd record it onto a cassette for reference. I improvised a few sketches, each inspired by the groovy new tones available on the DX7, and on listening back thought I could develop and re-record some of them. But when it came to starting work in earnest on my next album I realised these slapdash recordings had such a good, natural feel to them that I decided to use the actual recordings (copied or looped to extend them) as a base and overdubbed other instruments onto them. Last week I read in Keith Richards' new autobiography that several Stones hits were made in a similar way, with the added bonus that the low-tech cassette recorder he used added great distortion to his acoustic guitar, making it sound half-electric - thus new, world-shaking riffs were born. As the old Zen saying goes - "First thought, best thought."Ooh, I like that. Here are a few more links on that theme:• A book of poems by Chogyam Trungpa, Tibetan Buddhist and founder of the Naropa Institute.• A 4CD/download set by William Burroughs, Alan Ginsberg, Diane DiPrima and Anne Waldman (the link includes a good-sized audio sample by Burroughs).• An album by "disco cellist" Arthur Russell, featuring orchestral sketches.That theme of trust and spontaneity runs through most of my creative life now and nourishes me, keeps me young and fresh. For example, it helps me to whip melodies out of thin air at high speed to meet ridiculously tight deadlines, such as this Nissan TV advert (more ad music can be heard here).It leads me on unknown journeys every time I perform two improvisations an average of 45 minutes long at my ongoing series (since November, 2003) of monthly solo concerts entitled "Morgan's Organ."And in recent years it has completely taken over my photographic activities, urging me to wave my camera around in front of various light sources and paint like a blind man in a darkened room.Thank Dog I went back to my first thought for "Miniatures" and did not listen to my subsequent thoughts re minute waltzes, making famous long pieces of music shorter, etc... Terry Riley once asked me if I was on acid or the like at the time I came up with this album concept. Nope, just the odd glass of red; I never diddled with any drugs.I didn't diddle; I took the middle... way. Avant-garde a clue...Next up - England's finest somersaulting singer changes from mental to sentimental... Read/Leave Comments
M1-3 Roger McGough
M1-3 The Wreck of the Hesperus
The above illustration of Roger McGough's contribution to the Miniatures poster displays deceptive simplicity from a man whose fertile, fervid and febrile imagination overflows in the deluge of words that gush rapidly yet with heart and soul from his Liverpudlian/Litherlandian lips. I was bemused by the breathless, hurried way he spoke down the phone during our preparatory chats prior to recording him in my home studio. It was, then, no surprise to me at all that he would dare to try and cram into his one minute Longfellow's poem, which at a normal reading pace would probably take four. A challenge!I picked up the gauntlet and reached for my stopwatch (not necessarily with the same hand). With other Miniatures artists I was far more easy-going (Hermeto Pascoal thrills us for a full 1'32"; Joseph Racaille slips by gallically with a blasé 14 seconds). With Roger, I mercilessly insisted on repeated takes until he scraped in at a hair under 60 seconds. Admittedly, a verse or two was edited out - but there's an extra "haha!" plus a "ho!" at the end so, well spoken, Roger!(slight digression: Recently I recorded a short news piece for the Good News Show on KVMR radio, and as I ran a little over time they had the cheek and audacity – just kidding, Mikail! – to use time-stretching software to speed up my voice to fit – harrumphh!!).Roger has about 13 years on me, and as a teenager I looked up to him as a rather kooky yet caring uncle. Sure, teenagers are often hungry for the weird and the wild, but for me, with my dad just gone off with another woman, never to return, there was also a hunger for tenderness. It showed in the way me and a couple of schoolmates would sing "This Boy" by the Beatles in close harmony whenever we got the chance. It showed in the way we ignored the "traditional" culture that was being rammed down our throats (it is Shakespeare - it is Beethoven - it is therefore good) and ravenously consumed contemporary novels and poetry anthologies, looking for some spark of humanity. Inevitably, it was not long before, in "Penguin Modern Poets #10," we discovered Roger McGough.For a start, he was from Liverpool - and he knew The Beatles! He had groovy long curly hair and cool glasses. And the clincher was, in 1967 - the same year as Sergeant Pepper - he published his book "Summer with Monika" - with illustrations by Peter Blake - the same bloke who did the Pepper cover! And in its happy-sad lines we read of what it's like to really be with a bird - none of us having had more than the odd drunken grope as yet. Now we were getting a proper education.Oh, we knew Roger was with The Scaffold, that whacky trio who released daft Christmassy singles like "Thank U Very Much" and "Lily the Pink." But he was the hip one in the group, compared to zany balding John Gorman and slightly snooty Mike McGear (who's Paul McCartney's brother, with more hair).Yeah, our Rog was hip and cool and eccentric and tender as well. And vulnerable. Not like any of my relatives or teachers (at least I thought so then through my teenagers-slit view of the world). Also, I'd chosen him to be one of my heroes and mentors. Not a loud proud magnificent hero like, say, Hendrix (who I, gobsmacked, watched several times, playing in pubs in North London in '66/'67). He was a quiet, sort of intimate hero, someone you could be alone together with. So intimate that I couldn't even let on to my mates how much emotion I felt when reading his writings. And they couldn't let on to me either, but we kept on reading. And re-reading, to make sure this bloke was really someone we could trust with our innermost yearnings. To make sure he was a bloke we really could believe, when he intimated that it's all right to be shy and a bit blocked and have quirks and unreachable fantasies. And he was. And he still is.Here's a "letter" Roger sometimes likes to read out to his audiences:Ladies and gentlemen, I apologise sincerely for being unable to attend this evening's performance. Owing to pressure of work, an increasing sense of unreality, and the fear of drowning in a sea of upturned faces, I have employed an out-of-work actor to impersonate me. On my behalf he will read poems, answer questions, sign books, get drunk and generally keep up the poetic image. Of course, there will be weaknesses in performance, the overeagerness to please, the nervous mannerisms too consciously affected, and it goes without saying that he lacks the charisma, charm, wit and raw animal sexuality of the real poet. I trust, however, that you will enjoy the evening, and forgive my underpaid stand-in should the mask slip and his true self show through. Yours faithfully, Roger McGoughI think we picked a good hero. And yes, it was really all right and true to character that, surrounded by 50 other marvellous performers on "Miniatures", when invited to contribute "anything you like" for the Miniatures poster, he submitted a blank business card with his utterly simple signature on it, writ small, lower case...That said - here's some pictures of Roger! If anyone has a problem re the copyright on these - please drop me a line - but also please note I have linked them to sources where you can buy Roger-things online - click the pix to find out:
One of the cheeriest photos I've ever seen of Roger in The Scaffold. This album seems to be out of print now, so it links to another "best of" release, also with a cool pic on the cover.
This was a bit of a find - a photo of Roger at Mike McGear's wedding (© Mirror Photos), with guests Paul McCartney, Jane Asher and John Gorman. Click to buy a print on Amazon.
The book - the CD - whichever version you get will be a delight, you can be sure. Wot a life. I like the green bits.Thank you Roger!!!Next up - yours truly wrestles with William Blake and a noisy washing machine...Read/Leave Comments
M1-2 The Residents
M1-2 We're a Happy Family + Bali Ha'i
What to say about the most famous anonymous band in the world? Right from their beginning in 1969, The Residents vowed to keep their identity secret, and always appeared wearing masks - in particular their fabulously surreal eyeball masks. They liked to disguise their voices by routing them through effects units or changing the speed - often sped up like some strange munchkins (or for us Brits of a certain generation, like Pinky and Perky). All their music shimmers with an unsettling other-worldliness, and although they were apparently based in San Francisco, their actual home seems to be located quite close to the Salvador Dali dream sequence in Hitchcock's "Spellbound."For those unfamiliar with this unique combo, take a look/listen to a few of their one-minute movies.(invitation) Perhaps you, dear reader, would care to suggest another film clip (other than any made by the band themselves) that encapsulates the general mood and philosophy of The Residents parallel universe? If so, please do so by adding a link in the Comments section (to be found either at the end of this post, or via the button near the top of the left margin). David Lynch and Jan Svankmajer films are a given, so they're excluded...There is a very thorough and interesting Wikipedia article on the Residents, so I will not go into their history here, however it slightly niggles me that in the same year that "Miniatures" was released, The Residents issued their "Commercial Album" - also a collection of one-minute pieces. Which came first...? Did my project inspire theirs? Or was it sheer coincidence, musical synchronicity? A second coincidence which I have unearthed is that one of the guest vocalists on their album was XTC singer Andy Partridge - another "Miniatures" artist.Anyway, I must take my hat off in salute to one way the band promoted their collection of condensed curiosity:Commercial Album (1980) consisted of 40 songs, each consisting of a verse and a chorus and lasting one minute. The songs pastiched the advertising jingle although the songs were not endorsements of known products or services... The Residents purchased 40 one-minute advertising slots on San Francisco's most popular Top-40 radio station at the time, KFRC, such that the station played each track of their album over three days. This prompted an editorial in Billboard magazine questioning whether the act was art or advertising. (Wiki)The Residents are the only artists to have actually squeezed two separate songs into their one-minute slot on "Miniatures," although Ron Geesin had two distinct movements in his track, Piero Milesi had four, and Fred Frith claims to have shoehorned the entire works of Henry Cow into his.I never met The Residents - only Jay Clem from their record company (but who knows - maybe he was one of them). From his letter above, it would appear he enjoyed the record I sent him - my "Hybrid Kids" album of bizarre cover versions.Next up - the fastest poet in the West (well, at least in West London, when I recorded him)...Read/Leave Comments