Go and visit The Fallen Angels Club

I first heard and became deeply interested in the music of Gram Parsons through a local band The Radio Sweethearts, which was formed by some friends of mine.

My love of his songs was amplified when my beloved Teenage Fanclub covered the track “Older Guys,” which Gram wrote for his band The Flying Burrito Brothers.

Gram died on the 19^th September 1973 – the same year I was born – at the cruelly, young age of 26. I do not really need to go into the circumstances surrounding his passing and, please, don’t be tempted to watch the Hollywood film about his life and death. Instead, go buy some records or read his biography “Hickory Wind” written by Ben Fong Torres.

Little did I know that almost 20 years later I would be running a music promotions company called “The Fallen Angels Club,” named after Gram’s last touring band, “Gram Parsons & The Fallen Angels.”

This band introduced the incomparable Emmylou Harris to the world. Some say that if Gram had lived, he and Emmylou would have forged one of the greatest duets that country music had ever seen or heard. I would still argue that in country music, nobody has ever bettered this glorious and captivating duet.

For such a short life Gram managed to leave us with some great music.

One of his many fine moments came in 1968 when he basically took over The Byrds for the ground-breaking album, “Sweetheart Of The Radio.” Byrds’ front man, Roger McGuinn tells the story of hiring Gram as a keyboard player and not realising they had hired a young George Jones. This period saw Gram becoming good friends and collaborator with another Byrds’ member, Chris Hillman and the two of them moved on to set up The Flying Burrito Brothers – what a great name for a band.

When Gram became good friends with Keith Richards and The Rolling Stones, Richards and Mick Jagger were so impressed by Gram and his music they wrote “Wild Horses” for him.

Gram actually recorded this song before The Stones and I would stand up anywhere to argue with anyone that his version with The Flying Burrito Brothers is far superior.

Every time I hear this song I always think of Gram, especially the line: “I have my freedom, but I don’t have much time.” Who could have guessed that a few years after singing that line he would leave this world?

As we still mourn the loss of such a great talent 38 years since his death, Gram has left us a legacy of music that will live on. It is fitting to finish this short tribute with my favourite Gram Parsons song, “Song For You” taken from the album “GP”.

Ingram Cecil Connor- 5^TH November 1946 – 19^th September 1973

Kevin Morris

The Fallen Angels Club:- www.fallenangelsclub.com

Thanks Kevin, fits in nicely with Ruth Paxton’s Emmylou Harris blog of the other week, maybe Kevin and Ruth should start a covers band…….

Haven't we all tried this at some point?

FROM TIM:

What a very hard job to declare a single musical hero, but you have to follow your instincts and mine shouted ‘Shooby’! Yes, Shooby Taylor (1929-2003), the Human Horn. A postman in the Bronx, who after receiving free saxophone and then singing lessons after leaving the US army (the singing teacher told him he shouldn’t do that with his voice) he continued to record himself on cassette at home singing along with LPs and CDs. There are a couple of  tracks he actually paid to record in a studio this is one:

This is probably his signature track along with ‘Stout-Hearted Man’. In this version, a more committed fan than myself has nobly notated his scat lyrics (apparently he was inspired by a scat singer called Babs Gonzales who is actually much less interesting)

I came across him on a compilation CD ‘Songs in the Key of Z-the curious Universe of Outsider Music’ (there is also an excellent companion book by compiler Irwin Chusid). Shooby is certainly the star of this album (although there are many fantastic items) and there is a website dedicated to him. For the more complete and interesting story of how he was tracked down by friendly cult followers go here. His final triumphant radio phone-in interview, the day before his 73rd birthday is worth a listen. It felt like payback after years of being booed off in open mic nights at jazz clubs in New York. The only existing video of Shooby is a similar experience at  a talent night at the Apollo Theatre, Harlem

It’s a strange and wonderful thing introducing people to Shooby’s singing. It does inspire disbelief and usually smiles and laughter, which is a perfectly valid response – it’s funny. But, when you listen to more of him, I think you can hear how he’s inspired by the various tracks he sings to and he always surprises. Just when you think you can guess where he’s headed next, the rug gets pulled from under you with a swoop in another direction.
What I find heroic and inspiring about him and other ‘outsiders’ (eg Daniel Johnston , or for some stunning outsider visual art check this out) is the passion and the driven need to create their stuff. I certainly don’t want to become some inverted musical snob (see a previous musical heroes entry on that subject). I love my bland and reassuring mainstream sometimes, but there’s a raw honesty here that fairly cleanses the palette every now and then.

 
My best Shooby-sharing moment. One time, returning from the hugely inspiring Shetland Folk festival I struck upon the idea of getting the Ship’s Purser to play Shooby over the tannoy instead of the usual boat-muzak. It was great to spot reactions, including one of the cooks in the canteen saying “Whit’s this shite they’ve goat oan”. “ Don’t know but it’s fucking comin aff!” says another. I was amazed that they let the CD play for a few tracks and when I returned saying I had only intended them to play one track, the purser was busy conferring with other crew-members and quite keenly said, “Oh look he does Tico Tico, as well. Let’s hear that.”
Check them all out. Finally, here’s Shooby with Miles Davis:

Thanks Mr Lau
Love Tim x

Thanks Mr Tim,

Love Lau x

Tim Chipping and friend

FROM TIM:

It’s common to hear even the most broadminded music fan say they hate musicals. But all musicals are not the same. And all writers of musicals are definitely not the same.

I first became aware of Stephen Sondheim in 1988. I was visiting London a lot, ahead of my move there the following year, and staying with a couple of friends – one of whom was a dresser in the theatre. He’d just got hold of the Broadway cast album of Sondheim’s latest show Into the Woods – an amalgamation of fairytales and the lessons they do or don’t teach us about real life. He played the album every morning until it wore me down and I went and bought my own.

A year or so later I met the man who would become my bandmate in Orlando (our folly of a pop group). We bonded in a sea of jangly guitar-loving indie kids because we were Stephen Sondheim fans. His favourite was Company – a plotless musical which takes place in a single second of one man’s life, at the moment he is surprised by his friends on his 35th birthday. Most people will be familiar with the song Being Alive that closes the show. But this was the third attempt at a final number for the central character Bobby – the other two songs failing to come to anything like such a positive conclusion about the need for coupledom. He may have given in to the producers by the time the show opened, but anyone prepared to try and end a Broadway musical with a song in praise of solitude gets my vote.

Here’s one of those songs, Happily Ever After, coming to the opposite conclusion to Being Alive, which was later included in a show that hoovered up many of Steve’s orphaned numbers:

It occurred to me recently that Sondheim’s driving purpose in life is to be right, which is probably what unconsciously appeals to me about him. For Steve there is absolutely a correct rhyme and a correct melody progression and his joy is in the puzzling then solving the questions that writing lyrics and music pose.

And it is a joy, albeit one that he knows keeps him from the pleasures enjoyed by others less obsessive in their creativity.

Sondheim studied for a year under the compositional theorist and electronic music pioneer Milton Babbitt. Ultimately Sondheim decided he loved tonality too much to become an avant-gardist, but you can hear much of what he learned in his best score: Sunday In The Park With George. It’s pointillist music for a pointillist painter (the show was based on an entirely fictional imagining of the life and legacy of George Seurat).

Here’s the song Finishing The Hat, performed by Mandy Patinkin as George, in which we can hear not just the character’s but Sondheim’s artistic motivation explained:

Steve also called his recent two-volume lyrics and theory collection Finishing The Hat. For me, it’s an analogy that pinpoints why we all create.

He’s also an intellectual snob, which I love about him too. While he has sworn never to criticize a living writer (though he got enough flak for demonstrating why Noel Coward was a flawed lyricist), it doesn’t take a lot of imagination to know who he was talking about when he responded to criticisms that he didn’t write hummable tunes by saying that if you were humming a tune when you came out of the theatre it was probably because you were humming it before you went in.

The Sondheim song that everyone knows is Send In The Clowns, from A Little Night Music. Its ubiquity tends to strip it of meaning, and certainly of context, making it seem corny. But in that same musical he also wrote The Miller’s Son – a song celebrating youthful promiscuity in girls, and  Every Day A Little Death – a heartbreakingly bleak song about giving reluctant but dutiful oral gratification to a husband. Starlight Express it ain’t.

Here are both of these songs performed to devastating effect:

Sondheim’s songs are joyously clever, frequently funny and genuinely moving. Well, they are to me. And to him, it seems. When asked at a recent Q&A in London to talk about his favourite of his own musicals – Assassins, he sobbed uncontrollably with happiness as he recounted the memories of creating it. The show is about the people who killed or attempted to kill US presidents!

His ability to combine smart and witty with tear-inducing sentiment is probably best demonstrated here by one of his regular cast members Elaine Stritch in a career defining performance at his 80^th birthday concert.

There’s no one like him.

Thanks Tim, now nobody put money on Sondheim coming up, this is good, you just can’t guess what folk will choose (except Kris choosing Gaughan, I would have put a fair amount of cash on that). Anyway, good, good good, keeping it broad. x

The beautiful and talented Ruth Paxton

FROM RUTH:
I can’t sing, or play music. But dang, if I could, I’d want to sound like Emmylou Harris.

My country heroine Ms. Harris sings (and sometimes writes) songs about what it means to be human. Throughout her vast anthology of studio albums Harris rejoices in celebration of great love and friendships, and laments over painful memories and adversity. She whispers and belts out lyrics on those moments and those people in life that make it worth living.

Her voice is strong and distinctive; it’s rich and raw. It both soothes and sears through me. She’s the diva of loss. She sings, and it’s as if her very guts spill out. She sings and we feel her heart breaking. And she does it all with such effortless grace.

She’s so cool.

Here’s a clip of a young brunette her on the Old Grey Whistle Test in 1977, where she plays ‘LUXURY LINER FORTY TONNES OF STEEL’ with her very awesome Hot Band. Pay special heed to her
BEAUTIFUL blue tasseled culottes with matching cuffs… What a DUDESS.

LIVE CLIP:

I love how music has the power to become the soundtrack to periods from your past. When I was about 14, my Dad introduced me to Emmylou Harris when he made me a mix-tape with the opening track, ‘A WAYS TO GO’, from Harris’ 1993 COWGIRL’S PRAYER album. I was studying for my Standard Grade exams at the time and this song was score to my revision. I played + rewound + played + rewound + played that track until the cassette tape wound up squeaky. Criminally, no one has uploaded it to YouTube, so I have. Please ignore the zoom-y image and instead, picture me trying to master Trigonometry…

SONG CLIP:

I love Harris’ interpretations of traditional ballads and gospel songs, but I particularly dig the innovative approach on her more contemporary albums, especially RED DIRT GIRL (2000). I love the quality of the production on this release: the haunting, tribal sound; the poetic and deeply personal storytelling vibe – Harris creates music which feels ancient and original all at once. The title track is a compelling song describing youth trapped by poverty and locale. On writing it, Harris said she was inspired in part, after watching the film, BOYS DON’T CRY (1999). ‘RED DIRT GIRL’ is profoundly tragic, and beautiful and gets right to me.

LIVE CLIP:

I want to share another track from the same album: the epic and intimate, ‘MY BABY NEEDS A SHEPHERD’, on which, the combo of muffled drum-sound and lady-harmonies makes me quake.
LIVE CLIP:

*FOLKS should TOTES check those last two as studio recordings, there’s a lot of the texture I describe lost in the live performance.
I like Harris’ voice even more now she’s 64. She’s still well spicy. I’ll finish with a commemorative song from her latest album, HARD BARGAIN (2011), called ‘THE ROAD’. She wrote this for Gram Parsons, with whom she had a budding musical/love affair when he died of an overdose in 1973. I don’t think she’s ever gotten over losing him. The lyrics are a bit flowery, but fuck-it. Harris credits Parsons with giving her the confidence to forge a career. If that’s the truth, thank God they were introduced.
SONG CLIP:

“…And if it’s only all about the journey in the end.
On that road I’m glad I came to know my old friend.”

xxx

Thanks Ruth, and do go and experience some of Ruth’s work, some of it might make you cry, but you’ll be the better for it.

Now that is how to dress for work

She is also involved in the production/event management of some super cool stuff including this crazy carry-on

Shane McGowan

I guess mine is more of a musical anti-hero than a hero, but after thinking
about this long and hard Shane McGowan is who I am giving my Musical Hero
title to.

The Pogues are the band that I credit with my enduring love of traditionally
influenced music and therefore an important reason behind why I do what I
do.  I grew up with folky parents and although I appreciated the music and
loved the sounds in the pub sessions (when I was often put in a makeshift
bed of coats behind speakers or under the table), none of the music spoke to
me as something I could claim for myself at an age when whatever it is your
parents are into is never cool.

The Pogues were different.  They were a ballsy, exciting rabble that came
out of the London punk scene and as much as they are associated with
Ireland, they are most definitely a London band.  Their trad-on-speed
interpretations of traditional tunes I had been listening to all my life
plus their original material gave me something within a genre that was dear
to my heart that I could claim for myself.

Shane was the leader of the band, it’s flawed primary songwriter and
vocalist. I think he is under valued for the incredible lyricist that he is,
partially because many of those lyrics are delivered with his trademark
(occasionally intoxicated) snarl which can and does mask the sometimes
heartbreakingly beautiful, starkly realistic and often witty stories that he
creates.  There are also some other amazing musicians such as Jem Finer,
Spider Stacy, James Fernley and Andrew Ranken in the band who create their
trademark sound.

Misty Morning Albert Bridge is one of the most beautiful songs I know.

He’s a flawed, snarling lyrical wizard who has lived a life not without its
enduring imperfections, but I love him more for it.  Imperfections can shape
us and become part of the fabric of our characters.  Shane did this to full
effect and wove them into his music.

The following video is classy, surreal, bizarre, joyful & amazingly dark,
and which features Kirsty Macoll who was Shane’s preferred female duet
partner and an incredible vocalist herself.  One of the comments says that
when Shane comes on he looks like Hell in a Suit. I couldn’t agree more and
I think he looks brilliant.

Finally (I had to do it)- the best Christmas song of all time.  Happy
Christmas, handsome chaps, pretty ladies, scumbags, maggots and everything
in between.

Ceri x

Thanks Ceri, Nice Christmas vibe for us all. Have a nice time everyone

The Trio Lau x

Fiona Talkington, on a very nice modern chair.

One of my favourite musical memories is sitting in a large wooden building on a hill in Kaustinen in Finland.  It was packed with children of all ages  and some parents too, bouncing babies on their knees, toddlers clambering over the seats. On the stage was a man holding a fiddle. Without saying a word he raised his bow. The children (most of whom also had fiddles) raised theirs and then, as with one voice, they played a Finnish folk tune. The man on stage was Mauno Järvelä, one of the most inspirational teachers and musicians I’ve ever witnessed, and he’s one of the brilliant musicians at the heart of my hero supergroup JPP. (That stands for Järvelän Pikkupelimannit  which means “the little folk musicians from Järvelä” but they’re best known simply as JPP!)

The other fiddlers include Mauno’s nephew Arto Järvelä who has a solo career too and is a great composer, and on harmonium is the mighty Timo Alakotila.  Timo, I have to say, is one of the quietest most humble people who ever walked this earth, yet you’ll find his name as composer, arranger and performer on so many  albums. He is hugely respected by everyone who works with him (including another of my personal and musical heroes the wonderful Karen Tweed; they worked on the May Monday project together), and the only time I’ve ever seen him rattled was when the harmonium was refused entry into the security scanner at Edinburgh airport.  Karen nearly brought him to tea at my house once and I was so excited that Timo might play my piano and that maybe some of his magic would rub off on it.  Next time!! (By the way Lau is also invited – it’s a select few on my guest list!)

To be at a JPP gig is to have a little glimpse into heaven. It’s impossible to come away without feeling that the world is a better place having heard gorgeous tunes, quirky rhythms and immaculate phrasing, with the bass and harmonium giving it a real rootsy, earthy feel. The songs can be witty such as the brilliant ‘Hale Bop’ or  heartbreaking (check out Peltonieman Hintrikin surumarssi – a funeral much for a folk fiddler)

I’ve often wondered what the view from the stage is like as we all stand there, mouths open in wonder at this astonishing playing.  They don’t need to say anything to us, rather like Mauno in the pavilion, and indeed these Finns are men of few words, but they do betray a very dry sense of humour, and great warmth and humanity.

2012 sees them celebrate their 30th anniversary as a band so, wherever, you are find a gig near you and your joy will be complete. And maybe they could party with Lau? That really would be quite something!

Here they are with some Finnish dances:

And here’s some zany Finnish humour featuring JPP on a tractor, and a dance pavilion.

WARNING some rather gross string vest action towards the end!

Thanks Fiona, we will be round for tea btw, no musos refuse free tea, although many steal biscuits for later (Kris), so be careful.

Lau x

Lucky Inge Thomson

Despite not actually drawing a wage from Lau, I feel acutely entangled in their business. It is both an honour and a total pain in the arse.  And so here I am writing a wee blog for some of my musical heroes about some of my musical heroes – Swåp.

I first heard about this accordion player, Karen Tweed, from the marvellous master of the quadruplet, Gary Peterson, he’d encountered her alongside Roger Wilson when they had graced the stages of the Shetland Folk Festival back in 1987.  I was playing the accordion (badly) at the time, and had never really heard of any other young female box players.  I saw her myself at the same folk festival several years later performing with the Poozies and was smitten.  Her virtuosity and elegance on stage, her sparky effervescence offstage, she just seemed a joy!

Then I encountered Swåp.  Anything is possible.  The combination of those four musicians, Carina Normansson and Ola Bäckström driving the strings and Ian Carr urging the chords towards beautifully squint, and Karen making magical musical snowflakes cover everything. They would push and pull with such intricate arrangements that at the end of a set of tunes you would feel like they had divulged a piece of essential information to you. Bliss.

I was very fortunate to have had a few years of cross-pathing with Swåp, where I was often moved to a catatonic state by their sound but more often very excited by it.  They released four studio albums, all champions, which provided much to aspire to for my band Harem Scarem.

It is hard find footage of Swåp that is not filmed by a shaky limb but I managed it –

Swåp broke up in 2007.  I was not alone in being genuinely devastated by it.

Anyway, Swåp, Heroes.

Thanks Inge, and Lau would also like to add that Swåp have and are a huge influence for us, and we miss them very much.

Check out Macmaster/Hay, yes do:

And a wee bit of footage from Friday’s gig:

If you can get to London on Tuesday (7th Dec), we will do Ghosts again with Adem, so come and see that.

x

This is Yoko, dunnae mess with her. You would lose.

From Yoko:

I always love my bands and my artists. I used to be a big fan of Paul Young or Culture club but they don’t interest me any more because they are not related to me. So this job I have here is just perfect to me! I think it is very important to support artists who are out playing concerts today. Lots of people in the record business, are only masturbating with old master tapes and endless reissues.

So I chose one of my bands here! Alamaailman Vasarat is a six piece band from Finland. They call their music “fictional world music” and promote it as a mixture of everything – Gypsy, Balkan, Finnish, Swedish, Celt and pop, jazz, rock etc. But I personally think that it is just prog rock very much influenced by all kinds of rootsy music. They do really interesting arrangements around the tunes written by Stakula (front man and saxophone player of the band) and are very imaginative all together. Everything they do is like a really good film soundtrack.

This is a clip they made a long time ago.

And this clip is made at a bar called Trench which is one of Lau’s favourite places in Tokyo. I run a small TV station called ON THE SHELF TV with Roge the bar man. I hope you all check out every single clip here. They are all brilliant and I think Lau will have to do one with us when they come back to Tokyo. I can’t wait!

Concert promoter and Label manager at THE MUSIC PLANT
YOKO NOZAKI

Thanks Yoko, and all we can say is, go and look at on the shelf tv, it is very, very cool.