Cover Charge #14: The Jesus and Mary Chain to Prince

Cover Charge is simple: A covers B, B covers C, C covers D and so on, until I loop back to where I started, Ouroboros-style.

Last time: Pixies to The Jesus and Mary Chain

After quite a few Straight Bat covers recently, it's nice to feature an Own Stamp today, in the form of The Mary Chain's take on the Purple One's Alphabet Street. This was released all the way back in 1994, on the flip-side of the Come On EP. It's heavy and fuzzy, as you might expect.

Prince's original, six years earlier, was an altogether lighter and sharper affair. The lead single from Lovesexy, it peaked at #8 on the Hot 100 and #3 on the R&B chart, selling 750,000 copies in the process. Is it funky, do you think? I typed that just now but then edited it back out. It might be a little funky, but it doesn't make me want to move body parts, not like I expect funk to anyway. Maybe I should leave it up to connoisseurs of the métier to decide.

Next time: post- Prince takes a road less travelled.

The Cover Charge "chain" to date.

Without you

I don't have enough Beach Boys knowledge to write properly about Brian Wilson. Other bloggers have done so already, far better than I ever could (step forward Swiss Adam, Alyson, John, Tim, Craig and Khayem, for starters).

Also, and at the risk of sounding like a heathen, can I just say that a lot of early Beach Boys output - the surf and car songs - never did a great deal for me? I'm sorry (not sorry) but they just said nothing to me about my life. I'm not sure they necessarily did a lot for Brian either but boy, did they sell...

That said, as soon as he, and they, started to move away from dunes and deuce coupes, well, that's when things got a bit more interesting, for me at least. There is a special kind of sonic genius in Good Vibrations, I think, and as for songs that say something to me about my life, I Just Wasn't Made For These Times takes some beating. And then there's God Only Knows ... a song that begins with the line "I may not always love you", and later asserts that life will go on "should you ever leave me", yet somehow still manages to be one of the greatest love songs of all time. Not even a looping remix for the syrupy end of Love Actually has robbed it of its power.

In 2014, the Beeb brought responsibility for all its musical output, including radio, orchestras, various "... of the year" competitions and then-nascent BBC Sounds, under one umbrella, with the Ronseal-esque title of BBC Music. To mark the event, they commissioned a recording of God Only Knows with an all-star cast, in a similar fashion to their reworking of Lou Reed's Perfect Day for Children in Need some years earlier. The track was credited to The Impossible Orchestra, which included Dave Grohl, Alison Balsom, Lorde, Pharrell Williams, Zane Lowe, Sam Smith, Paloma Faith, Eliza Carthy, Nicola Benedetti, Chris Martin, Jaz Dhami, Martin James Bartlett, Danielle de Niese, Stevie Wonder, Florence Welch, Lauren Laverne, Jake Bugg, Katie Derham, Gareth Malone, Kylie Minogue, Chrissie Hynde, One Direction, Emeli Sandé, Elton John, Baaba Maal, Ethan Johns, Jools Holland, Jamie Cullum, Brian May, Tees Valley Youth Choir, the BBC Concert Orchestra ... and Brian Wilson.

The end result was quite something, and this week feels like a good time to play it. Rest easy, Brian.

Who's who (and when) in the Impossible Orchestra

Cover Charge #13 - Pixies to The Jesus and Mary Chain

Cover Charge is simple: A covers B, B covers C, C covers D and so on, until I loop back to where I started, Ouroboros-style.

Last time: David Bowie to Pixies

I'll be honest, when Pixies released Trompe Le Monde in 1991, I found it a tiny bit disappointing. Sure, I enjoyed Planet of Sound and Alex Eiffel and Subbacultcha and a few others but the album as a whole, for me, fell a bit short. With hindsight I think I expected too much, after their earlier releases, and in my head attached greater significance to their every recorded note because of how I'd come to know and love Come On Pilgrim, Surfer Rosa and Doolittle. But that's another story. One highlight from the album though, was Pixies' cover of Head On. Here it is:

I know it might be considered blasphemous, but I think I prefer that to the Jesus and Mary Chain original, good though that is. Sorry, Reid bros.

Next time: East Kilbride's finest mix their reds with their blues...

The Cover Charge "chain" to date.

Cover Charge #12 - David Bowie to Pixies

Cover Charge is simple: A covers B, B covers C, C covers D and so on, until I loop back to where I started, Ouroboros-style.

Last time: Depeche Mode to David Bowie

Once a god-like genius has been posthumously deified, it's easy to forget that for there to be such lofty peaks there must also be some troughs, even if only minor ones. The run of albums Bowie produced in the 1990s (Outside, Earthling and Hours) were, for him, perhaps not the successes he might have hoped for. Still, he was Bowie, so everything is relative, I suppose. Whatever, 2002's less experimental Heathen was viewed by critics as a return to form... and side one, track two was this cover of Pixies' Cactus:

And here's the original from Frank, Kim, Joey and David - I don't think they were ever better than on those first two releases.

Next time: Pixies tackle the challenge of a good cover head on. Which may be too much of a clue.

The Cover Charge "chain" to date.

Cover Charge #11 - Depeche Mode to David Bowie

Cover Charge is simple: A covers B, B covers C, C covers D and so on, until I loop back to where I started, Ouroboros-style.

Last time: The Cure to Depeche Mode

You've got to have big balls, I think, to cover David Bowie. Luckily for us all, Depeche Mode are fully equipped in the trouser department, if this take on Heroes is anything to go by. The Highline Sessions, from whence this comes, were recorded live in August 2016, just a few short months after Bowie died, adding an extra resonance for all concerned. This could have gone very wrong, but turned out rather well.

And because you can't hear it, or him, too often, here's Bowie's original.

Next time: David leads the Cover Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Charge into some quiet/loud/quiet.

The Cover Charge "chain" to date.

Cover Charge #10 - The Cure to Depeche Mode

Cover Charge is simple: A covers B, B covers C, C covers D and so on, until I loop round, Ouroboros-style, back to where I started.

Last time: Editors to The Cure

Maybe there is a third kind of cover after all, some hybrid of the Straight Bat and Own Stamp. For when The Cure covered World In My Eyes, it was at once both faithful to the source and yet recognisably, unmistakably Robert et al.

Here's the Depeche Mode original, the opening track from 1990's Violator (an album so good it's on the Every Home Should Have One masterlist).

Next time: the Basildon boys take us ... to someone born in Brixton. That's an actual clue, right there. Runaround... now!

The Cover Charge "chain" to date.

Cover Charge #9 - Editors to The Cure

Cover Charge is simple: A covers B, B covers C, C covers D and so on, until I loop round, Ouroboros-style, back to where I started.

Last time: REM to Editors

Editors are a perfect band for covering The Cure, I think. They manage to put enough of their Own Stamp on Lullaby while maintaining, perhaps even adding to, the tension and disquiet that runs through the original. The spiderman is always hungry, indeed...

Here's the original, from Sir Robert of Cure-shire - surely a national treasure by now - and his merry band.

Next time: Crawley's finest cover a contemporary act ... but they've been around forever, so that could be anyone, right?

The Cover Charge "chain" to date.

Cover Charge #8 - REM to Editors

The premise of Cover Charge is simple. A covers B, B covers C, C covers D and so on, until I loop round and eat my own tail, Ouroboros-style, by getting back to where I started with The Specials.

Last time: The Replacements to REM

Today, the fruit of a mutual covering love-in. Editors had covered Orange Crush, so in 2008 REM returned the compliment by covering Munich for Radio 1's Live Lounge. There's grainy video of this online, but I've gone for the best quality sound recording I could find on YouTube.

And here's the original, from Editors' 2005 debut album The Back Room which, for my money, still sounds rather good.

Next time: spoiler alert, I'm not going to feature Editors covering Orange Crush as that would cause a feedback loop in the chain and bring an end to the spacetime continuum...

The Cover Charge "chain" to date.

Sunday shorts: Isla de Encanta

Sunday is a day of rest, right, so let's take a break from Cover Charge with another classic slice of early Pixies that comes in comfortably under the two-minute threshold required for Sunday shorts.

Isla de Encanta is also meat and drink for the Duolingo-bothering learner of Spanish (me, currently), with enough words for me to pick out to get the gist.

Anyway, all the way back from when I was 17 (though I didn't hear it until I was 19, but that's another story), here's the track.

I think we can all agree that's marvellous, right? And the only "love island" worth the time of day.

As for those lyrics? With apologies to any actual Spanish speakers...

Hermanita ven conmigo Hermanita ven conmigo Hay aviones cada hora Isla de encanta Me voy, me voy, me voy Donde no hay sufrimiento Donde no hay sufrimiento Me vieron pasar por la calle Isla de encanta Me voy, me voy, me voy Nuestro propio animal Canta a la gente pa'gratis Hey babe, what are we doing here? Laaaa, laaaa, patria Isla de encanta Me voy, me voy, me voy

Little sister, come with me Little sister, come with me There are planes every hour Island of love I'm going, I'm going, I'm going Where there is no suffering Where there is no suffering They saw me passing by on the street Island of love I'm going, I'm going, I'm going Our own animal sings To the people for free Hey babe, what are we doing here? Laaaa, laaaa, homeland Island of love I'm going, I'm going, I'm going

The Cover Charge resumes next time.

Cover Charge #7: The Replacements to REM

The premise of Cover Charge is simple. A covers B, B covers C, C covers D and so on, until I loop round and eat my own tail, Ouroboros-style, by getting back to where I started with The Specials.

Last time: Jesse Malin to The Replacements

A wonderfully scuzzy, ramshackle recording today as The Replacements just about rattle through half a rough and ready take on the debut single from their early-80s contemporaries, REM.

And here's the original single release of Radio Free Europe, a record that surely needs no further introduction (though you should read Swiss Adam's excellent recent post at Bagging Area if you want to hear some other versions of the song):

Next time: REM were fairly prolific covering other artists, so where will we charge next?

The Cover Charge "chain" to date.

Cover Charge #6: Jesse Malin to The Replacements

The premise of Cover Charge is simple. Artist A covers artist B, then B covers C and C covers D, and so on and so forth, until you, me or Google give up on blogs altogether.

Last time: Bruce Springsteen to Jesse Malin

Cover versions seem to fall into one of two categories, broadly speaking: the Straight Bat, in which the cover sounds very similar to the original, and the Own Stamp, in which the covering artist tries to do something a bit different. Today we have an Own Stamp from Jesse Malin, as he offers up a thoughtful reworking of The Replacements' Bastards of Young:

And here's the original from Paul Westerberg and chums, all the way back from 1985 and their fourth album Tim:

Next time: The Replacements replace someone else. Contain your excitement.

The Cover Charge "chain" to date.

Cover Charge #5: Bruce Springsteen to Jesse Malin

The premise of Cover Charge is simple. Artist A covers artist B, then B covers C and C covers D, and so on and so forth, until you, me or Google give up on blogs altogether.

Last time: Neil Young to Bruce Springsteen

Seems that towards the end of last year, The Boss recorded this straight-bat cover of Jesse Malin's She Don't Love Me Now for tribute compilation album Silver Patron Saints. I know next to nothing about Malin, but do know (thanks to John and Wikipedia) that he suffered a spinal stroke in 2023, leading to paralysis from the waist down. A fundraising/support tribute compilation followed, which included this offering from Bruce:

And here's Jesse's original, from his 2015 album New York Before the War. Spot the difference? No, me neither.

Next time: Jesse has a go at someone else, with a marginally less straight bat.

The Cover Charge "chain" to date.

Cover Charge #4: Neil Young to Bruce Springsteen

The premise of Cover Charge is simple. Artist A covers artist B, then B covers C and C covers D, and so on and so forth, until you, me or Google give up on blogs altogether.

Last time: Radiohead to Neil Young

An entry at the excellent Neil Young Archives tell us that he recorded his take on My Hometown on 16th September 2013. Here's the video proof:

And here's the original from Bruce, back in the day:

Next time: The Boss covers someone. But who?

The Cover Charge "chain" to date.

Cover Charge #3: Radiohead to Neil Young

Okay, I give in to the weight of public opinion (three blog comments). The premise of Cover Charge is simple. Artist A covers artist B, then B covers C and C covers D, and so on and so forth, until you, me or Google give up on blogs altogether.

Last time: Toots and the Maytals to Radiohead

Radiohead have, at various times, covered a number of Neil Young songs but for my money one of their better attempts is this, Cinnamon Girl:

And here's the original from Neil and Crazy Horse:

Next time, some time: Mr Young covers someone. But who?

The Cover Charge "chain" to date.

Cover Charge #1: The Specials to Toots & The Maytals

Last time out I wrote about how I'd planned but abandoned a new blog series, the premise of which would have been simple: one week, artist A covers artist B, then B covers C, C covers D, and so on. I abandoned the idea because, having planned 30+ steps, I realised I was considering songs and artists I wasn't fussed by, just to keep the whole premise rumbling on. So I just posted one cover I really got something out of, Toots and the Maytals covering Radiohead, and thought that would be the end of it.

However, the ever-lovely C at Sun Dried Sparrows expressed an interest in hearing more of what I'd planned. I don't usually do requests but, especially for C, this is how I'd planned to get to Toots. My intention was to start the Cover Charge (terrible name for a series) with Coventry's finest, The Specials, rattling through an excellent Monkey Man in 1979:

And here's the original from Toots and the Maytals in 1969:

Who knows, I might recycle other posts that I'd drafted for this series when the usual dribble of guff runs dry.

The Cover Charge "chain" to date.

Cover Charge #2: Toots & The Maytals to Radiohead

I recently toyed with the idea of starting a new blog series. The premise of "Cover Charge" was to be simple: one week, artist A covers artist B, next week artist B covers artist C, then C covers D, and so on, and so forth, until you, me or Google gave up on blogs altogether.

I drafted the first few posts in the series (The Specials to Toots and the Maytals, to Radiohead, to Neil Young, to Bruce Springsteen) and had mapped out an artist route for the next thirty of so links in the chain. But I lost heart, and binned the whole idea, when I realised I was starting to consider artists and songs I had no interest in or, worse, actively disliked, just to keep it all going.

I do want to feature this song though, the means by which I intended to go from Toots and the Maytals to Radiohead. Somewhat unbelievably, Toots and co recorded a version of Let Down for a 2006 compilation tribute album called Radiodread:

And here's the original from peerless OK Computer era Radiohead:

Same song, same words. Amazing the difference the music makes though, in terms of tone and mood.

The Cover Charge "chain" to date.

Monday long song: That's All

Originally released as a hidden track at the end of their fourth studio album, 1997's Bagsy Me, this is That's All by The Wannadies.

Curiosity Corner: Terry Hall and Ian Broudie (and, er, Craig Gannon)

In 1993, Terry Hall and The Lightning Seeds co-headlined a tour. To promote it, they appeared on The Beat, a TV show hosted by Gary Crowley, remember him? In this clip, Gary suggests there is also some "guitar magic" from ex-Smith Craig Gannon but that's over-egging it a bit, he's just there on rhythm duties. Even calling him an ex-Smith is something of a stretch, I'd say, but still, here the three of them are, making Sense and Lucky You sound better than the familiar Lightning Seeds versions.

Terry Hall still much missed at Amusements Central.

Sunovision results

So Austria's JJ, a counter-tenor at the Vienna State Opera no less, pipped Israel at last knockings to win Eurovision, courtesy of a massive public vote share. The awkwardness of an Israel win in the current geopolitical climate was thus avoided, and JJ has since returned to Austria to a hero's welcome. The UK did reasonably well in the judges' vote but again got absolutely nothing from the public, and finished 19th out of 26. My hat remains uneaten.

More importantly though, there was a winner in the Sunovision Song Contest. This was also close, with the win being secured by the last vote. Without further ado, I can reveal the results were as follows:

6th. Alone Together by The Verdant Sigil, representing Virelia
5th. Lonely Shadows by L'Orée d'Or, representing Elystène
4th. In the Quiet of the Night by Solène Morra, representing Caldovaria
3rd. Terminverzug by Frostwake, representing Drevona
2nd. Symphony of Collapse by Elias Vergrave, representing Ormandia
1st. Dancing Kitty by Silver Vatra, representing Thesskora

What does this tell us? Well, the most bland, most anodyne, most MOR pap occupied the bottom two places. First and second were close, and a good margin ahead of third (though Frostwake's heaviness won them a lot of votes). As for those top two, well, Symphony of Collapse is the one I personally like most, musically and lyrically ... but Dancing Kitty is about a dancing cat, and is slightly earwormy, so what's the world to do?

Conclusions? AI is scary and Eurovision is largely pap. There. I'm glad it took two blog posts to work that out.

Let's close with a real song by a real band, to cleanse the palate. The Rat by The Walkmen came on the radio at the weekend, and I was quietly delighted to see Amusements Minor enjoying it as much as me. "Who's this?", he asked. A song that's older than he is, still gaining his attention, and later added to his Spotify playlist. Dancing Kitty won't be doing that in twenty years' time.

Douze points for The Walkmen from me.

The Sunovision Song Contest

Does anyone actually care about Eurovision anymore, in any way that doesn't involve irony or drinking games? Turns out that none of the Amusemenents clan had even heard the UK's entry in the build-up to this year's competition, so some deliberate YouTubing took us to What The Hell Just Happened? by Remember Monday. For my money, it's pretty terrible, features one of the worst first lines in pop music history ("Someone lost a shoe"), and can't seem to decide which of three different types of song it wants to be. If it's in the top half of the table at the close of Eurovision proceedings... well, I don't wear a hat but if I did I'd be seasoning it and finding some cutlery.

But anyway, you've read the title of this post and are possibly wondering what the Sunovision Song Contest is? Let me explain.

Last Sunday night I sat alone, nursing a lovely pint, in an unfamiliar pub in an unfamiliar small market town. At the next table, a loud woman with a dog was pontificating about all manner of things, to the rapt attention of three very different men, all of whom seemed to be falling over themselves to pay atttention to her every word, apparently for the sole reason that she was borderline visually attractive. I may be oversimplifying but that's how it seemed to me, over the rim of my glasses. And trust me, I didn't want to listen in, but couldn't help it as she was quite loud in a otherwise quiet pub. After listening to how she would redesign one of the bloke's website for 50 grand, and how her dog was barking at another dog, she finally got onto Suno. "Have you heard of Suno?" she asked her three devotees, "It's incredible, look." And then she proceeded to demonstrate the Suno AI tool that enables users to provide a text prompt and have a song spat back at them. Yep. A fully fledged, multi-instrument, verse/chorus/middle eight/break/fade song with original lyrics, churned out by Suno's AI engine in a matter of seconds. Honestly, it took longer to type the prompt than it took Suno to generate the song... a song that borderline woman proceeded to play loudly from her phone, shattering the peace of the pub even more than her voice and barking dog already had.

God, I sound like a cantankerous old sod, don't I?

Of course, the acolytes all cooed, "That's amazing," or similar. And in a way, it is. Technically, as a programming and computing achievement, it is astonishing, even. But musically? Borderline woman's Suno-song was crap. Anodyne, generic, pointless, meaningless, forgettable... just awful.

And then it occurred to me, after listening to the UK's Eurovision entry yesterday and accidentally sitting through a few minutes of one of the Eurovision semi-finals, that all those words could probably be applied to a lot of the songs that will get churned out in Basel on Saturday night too. And an idea formed.

So here we have the inaugural Sunovision Song Contest. Yes, I used Suno to create the songs, and in keeping with that I used ChatGPT to create fictional countries and their representative artists. But listen up! You have to cast your vote at the end, so strap in and let's take this semi-seriously...

First up, representing Elystène, is L'Orée d'Or ("The Golden Edge") and their track Lonely Shadows. The island nation of Elystène is known for its high art, fashion, and diplomacy, apparently. L'Orée d'Or describe their style as dream power pop, and are known for their ethereal soundscapes, poetic lyrics, and avant-garde fashion.

L'Orée d'Or · Lonely Shadows

Next up is Symphony of Collapse by Elias Vergrave, representing Ormandia. Elias is classically trained, would you believe? Of course you would, he's from Ormandia after all, a central European duchy with misty hills, medieval castles, and a strong literary culture.

Elias Vergrave · Symphony of Collapse

Getting exciting now, isn't it? Silver Vatra describe themselves as politically charged dance punks mixing traditional sounds with modern beats. No surprise as they're representing Thesskora, a Balkan state with a turbulent history and rich musical tradition. But there's no rebellion in Dancing Kitty, an unabashed Europop anthem!

Silver Vatra · Dancing Kitty

The Verdant Sigil are from Virelia, and are known for blending traditional forest instruments with modern rock, evoking the mysticism of Virelia’s deep woods and mountain temples. Not that you'd know it from their entry, the cryptic power ballad Alone Together.

The Verdant Sigil · Alone Together

Next up, the beautiful Solène Morra, representing the warm, Mediterranean nation of Caldovaria, where Roman ruins and Moorish architecture mix. Solène is a sultry and dynamic solo artist who blends classic Mediterranean rhythms with contemporary pop and Latin guitar in her entry, In the Quiet of the Night.

Solène Morra · In the Quiet of the Night

And finally, the bookies' favourite, Frostwake, representing Drevona, a northern land of fjords and pine forests, with a strong seafaring and folklore heritage. Frostwake combine droning harmonies with ancient Drevonan runic chants and heavy instrumentation on their lively entry, Terminverzug.

Frostwake · Terminverzug

So bienvenue and wilkommen, members of the Blogosphere jury, now it's down to you. Who gets your douze points? And who gets the dreaded nul points? You must give every song a score, and you can only give each score value once. Vote now!

As ever, I'm playing with all the AI stuff so you don't have to. And let's be clear, the six tracks produced here are all pretty awful by any objective measure. Laughably so, in places. But really, are they that much worse than some of the pap that will get served up at Eurovision in Basel? Possibly not. And here's the other thing. All the AI work, the Suno track generation, the Chat GPT fictional countries, bands and bios, took less than ten minutes all told. Writing this post took me nearly an hour, what with uploading MP3s to Soundcloud, drafting my devastating prose, formatting it all and pressing "Publish". And therein lies the rub. If you want originality and quality, you might be prepared to wait (and pay for) carbon-based creatives. But increasingly customers are just going to want something cheap and quick. AI is coming for us.

Come back soon to see which track won Sunovision 2025, and what prompt I used to create it...

Before we're bones

Does this sound 45 years old? Probably, but I don't care. Black Sea is on the EHSHO masterlist for a reason.

There is no language in our lungs
To tell the world what's in our hearts
No, no, no, no, no, we're leaving nothing behind
Just chiselled stones
No chance to speak before we're bones

Sunday shorts: Lead Me Home

Another track that surfaced from introducing The Walking Dead to Amusements Minor (series 3, episode 12, fact fans).

I don't know much about Jamie N. Commons but I can tell you that, for all his bluesy Americana, he was born in Bristol, before moving across the pond whilst still in single digits. Oh, and I can tell you that I quite like this.

Blue Friday: 1984

Whenever I run out of things to blog about (which is often, after twenty years of this digital guff) I take a look at my YouTube Watch Later list and see what I've saved for future consideration. Which is how I come to be blogging today about 1984 by Anaïs Mitchell.

I'll be honest, I don't know anything about Anaïs that can't be gleaned from her Wikipedia page. I don't know any other songs by her either, except the one that Billy Bragg covered. Blimey, I can't even remember what led me to this song, much less why I saved it in my Watch Later list. I wondered at first if I had heard it as background music in some television show or other but the always-excellent Tunefind tells me it hasn't been used anywhere I'd have heard it, so who knows? What I do know, though, is that (a) I rather like this, and (b) it has some well-crafted dystopian lyrics that seem very "now". There's a real kicker in the last verse too.

Anyway, however it found its way to my ears, here is 1984, from the 2017 album Hymns for the Exiled (the mere title of which is enough to pique my interest). And if all this floats your boat, you can find out more at anaismitchell.com.

Down at headquarters there's a big database
With black and white photos of the side of your beautiful face
And your library records and all your test scores
And an invitation to party like it's 1984

Baby don't look so nervous, they just want the facts
And it's all written out in the USA Patriot Act
'Cause we don't take no chances in a nation at war
So tonight we're gonna party like it's 1984

Oh baby what did I tell you about the house being bugged
They can hear us making breakfast, they can hear us making love
Excuse me a minute, Big Brother's at the door
And he's ready to party like it's 1984

You know you're my one and only, you always have been
Sure is gonna be lonely after I turn you in
So I'll wait 'til tomorrow to file my report
And tonight we can party, oh, tonight we're gonna party
Yeah, tonight we can party like it's 1984

The truth is in what you see...

If you read last Friday's post you'll know that The Man Of Cheese and I went to see From The Jam, down in The Smoke. And that, more specifically, we had wrangled our calendars to fit this in, so we could see Bruce Foxton live one last time, before he retired at the end of May.

When the band announced that the current run of dates would be Foxton's last, the official line was that he was retiring to focus on his health. This comes after Bruce was admitted to hospital for an "immediate procedure" last August. He's had other health issues too, not least knee problems, tinnitus and cataracts. Nothing that unusual there though, not for someone who turns 70 in September.

But on Friday night... well, it's the right time for him to retire, let's put it that way. When the band came on at the O2 Indigo, Russell Hastings announced that "Mr Foxton is in the building" ... but he wasn't on stage. Some bloke from the backing band was stage-right, playing Bruce's basslines and singing his vocal parts. Hastings kept intimating that Bruce would join us soon ... but when FTJ played Smithers-Jones and Foxton was still nowhere to be seen, I was starting to wonder.

Bruce finally came on-stage half-way through the set. He played his bass perfectly, of course, and his backing vocals sounded okay too ... but the energy of yesteryear was gone. I wasn't expecting the leaps of old (knee issues, remember?) but honestly, he barely moved on stage. And when he introduced Hastings to the audience, his voice and words were croaky and weak.

The net effect of all this was to leave me feeling sad. Yes, of course everyone gets old and yes, of course, eventually all those wonderful skills and abilities erode away with age. It happens to everyone, even the best of us, even to our heroes. But I still felt sad. I wrote last Friday that FTJ are "as close as you are going to get to seeing The Jam live" because of Foxton ... but that didn't feel true last week. Admittedly not helped by what both TMOC and I felt was poor sound, Friday's performance could really just have been any half-decent Jam tribute band. And that made me sad too.

As he heads towards retirement it is undoubtedly better to remember Bruce like this, with his other songwriting highpoint. Yeah, Mock The Week may have made us blasé about News of the World, but it remains an absolute cracker. With bonus 70s Battersea Power Station content too. How did this only reach #27?

So cheers Bruce - before last week's gig I was sad you were retiring but now I'm sort of glad, going on your own terms whilst you can still raise a bassist's thumb to the crowd at the end of the set. Happy retirement!

A-G...A-I-N

I've somehow avoided featuring this for six years, but it's time... A-G...A-I-N. Somehow even faster than the already-frantic album version.

Sounds great, but I'm not sure I approve of the over-processed video in this clip...

May the fourth be with you ... always

I'm very aware of my somewhat sombre tone of late (what do you mean, "of late"?), so maybe some levity is in order. We're not going to push any musical boundaries with this, or change any lives, but genuinely here is a song that, once heard, is never forgotten. And never not funny ("That log had a child!"), as long as you have at least a basic knowledge of Star Wars... which everyone does, right?

Altogether now, "Hmm-ha, hmm hmm-hmm ha ..."

All of which, of course, explains this:

And if you, ahem, "enjoyed" this bad lip reading, you might also like this, from The Last Jedi. With added bacon references.

A new meaning to life

All things being equal, The Man Of Cheese and I will be off to see From The Jam this evening, in that there London. Songkick tells me it will be the tenth time I've seen them. Now critics will say they are nothing but a glorified covers band which, despite some new material, is hard to argue with, especially since the late Rick Buckler quit the band in 2009. On the other hand, proponents will say this is as close as you are going to get to seeing The Jam live. And that's not because of Russell Hastings' attention to detail as a surrogate Weller, however good or otherwise he may be. No, it's because Bruce Foxton is there; he might not spring up into the air quite so much any more, knees not being what they once were, but his unmistakable basslines are all present and correct.

Not for much longer though. As I mentioned when Rick died, Bruce is retiring after the current run of FTJ dates, so you've only got until the end of May to see him. TMOC and I have wrangled our schedules to fit this in, one final Foxton pilgrimage. We'll see FTJ again in the future, no doubt, but it won't be the same without Bruce.

To celebrate then, here are four versions of what was, arguably¹, Foxton's finest songwriting contribution to The Jam, Smithers-Jones, the lyrics to which were inspired by Bruce's dad being made redundant. We'll start with the regular band version, from the B-side of When You're Young, then have the orchestral reworking from Settings Sons, then a delicate live TV performance by Foxton & Hastings, and finally the full-on FTJ live performance that I expect to see tonight. Which is your favourite?

Thanks for everything, Bruce - enjoy a long, happy and healthy retirement.

1. It's either this or News of the World, surely?

You must've thought I didn't exist

The National frontman Matt Berninger is soon to release a solo album, Get Sunk. Now I have nothing against The National (who are still going, by the way, it's not like Matt's solo album is post-breakup), but nor am I a fan particularly. I certainly don't own any records by them and, truth be told, I am unlikely to race out and buy Berninger's new effort. Having said all that, I did hear lead-out single Bonnet of Pins on the radio at the weekend, and rather liked it. And now, having sought out the video, find that it has some interesting lyrics.

All in all, it might be a grower or it might be one of those songs that sneakily grabs your attention with a turn of phrase before it gradually becomes apparent that it's actually a bit ordinary musically and the attraction wears off. We shall see.

What do you think?

Sunday shorts: The Thing

Pixies first thing on a Sunday, you say? No problem. Here's The Thing, originally a B-side to Velouria.

Naturally

Coincidentally, both Rol and Swiss Adam have posted songs today about being alone. Reading those excellent posts back to back put me in mind of Alone Again, Naturally by Gilbert O'Sullivan. And from there it was only a short mental hop to a song that is almost exactly the same age as me, Nothing Rhymed.

Personally, I could live without the strings on this, but notwithstanding that it's hard to hear these lyrics and not think how well suited they are to our black-mirror-obsessed, social-media-saturated, polarised, desensitised times:

And if while in the course of my duty
I perform an unfortunate take
Would you punish me so
Unbelievably so
Never again will I make that mistake

This feeling inside me could never deny me
The right to be wrong if I choose
And this pleasure I get
From say winning a bet
Is to lose

When I'm drinking my Bonaparte shandy1
Eating more than enough apple pies
Will I glance at my screen
And see real human beings
Starve to death right in front of my eyes

And to think, I might never have heard this song if not for acquiring SPM's cover on a bootleg.

1. Bonaparte shandy = brandy.

Gone but not forgotten

I had cause to reach out to a former colleague and old friend this afternoon. I hadn't seen him in the flesh for more than twenty years, but we'd stayed in touch on and off, not least because of our shared interest in creative writing. We proof-read and critiqued each other's work, sometimes. Anyway, I hadn't heard from him since the summer of 2022 when, in reply to an email I'd sent him about blog radio silence, he mentioned that he wasn't writing and wasn't having the greatest year either. To my shame and regret, I didn't follow up on that.

When I struggled to get in touch with him today, I headed over to his Flickr stream - photography was always his most prolific outlet - and found that whilst his account is still there, it's now labelled "In Memoriam".

Now he was a doggedly private person, whose online presence was kept to the minimum necessary to pursue his interests, so it was no surprise that Googling turned up no details of his demise. Only by searching probate records was I able to discover that he'd died in December 2022, just six months after our last email conversation. So I don't know the circumstances of his death, although I have ideas that I won't go into here.

What I will say is that there was a time, a quarter of a century ago, when I considered him a good friend, an outsider-ally in the corporate circus we briefly inhabited. Since we both left that place, he grew into a better writer of fiction than I will ever be, and an accomplished wildlife and astronomy photographer. He also had an excellent, dark sense of humour, though he had his share of demons too. Most of all, he was always a thoroughly decent bloke.

There was a fair degree of overlap in our musical Venn diagram - something else to bond over - but a key difference was that he considered The Rolling Stones to be the greatest band ever to have walked the planet. Now I don't mind them at all, but he knew their work inside out and revered them, in the same way that I laud The Jam or Gene. So it seems only appropriate to belatedly mark my friend's sad passing with something by Mick and the lads. From Let It Bleed, this is Monkey Man.

Rest in peace, Mark.

Songs for tomorrow: This Time Tomorrow

You know I've run out of blogging ideas when I start trying to resuscitate old series.

Completely unrelated to that, here's a new post for the Songs For Tomorrow theme.

From 1970's The Kinks versus Powerman and The Moneyground, Part One, this finds Mr Davies in familiar territory, mourning the loss of Albion, railing against apparent progress and feeling separated from normality. We've all been there, Ray.

This time tomorrow
What will we see
Fields full of houses
Endless rows of crowded streets
I don't know where I'm going
I don't want to see
I feel the world below me
Looking up at me

There's a nice bit of what I thought was rough and ready banjo in there too, though Wikipedia tells me it was, in fact, a National Steel resonator guitar. So what do I know?

There, that was alright, wasn't it?

In other news, I might have an original idea for a post sometime soon (but don't hold your breath). Until then, I'll just keep treading water with more of the same pointless ballsackery.

Flirt a little, maybe

A couple of weeks ago Rol posted Ash's excellent cover of Jump In The Line. At the time, it reminded me that Ash had previously covered Abba, of all people, and that the result was half worth a listen. I must blog about that some day soon, I thought. Well, today is that day (mainly because I have naff-all else to post).

Tim Wheeler and co's fairly straight playing of Does Your Mother Know? saw the light of day on the 2008 collector's edition of their remastered debut album 1977. Here it is.

And for comparison, the original, with a rare lead vocal for Bjorn.

Far from their best work but somehow this has still clocked nearly 52 million views on YouTube. Imagine.

It's like the Nineties never ended

First, Gene announce a 30th anniversary show (and, subsequently, a low-key warm-up show that seems to have sold out its pre-sale allocation in just two minutes*), then Pulp announce a new album. Called More, it will be released on the 6th of June, as far as I can tell. There's also a single, Spike Island, which sounds like this:

Apparently Jarvis used AI to create that video, specifically to animate and insert the "cardboard cut-out" figures that appear on the cover of Different Class into modern footage. As one of the captions points out, Jarv needs to get better with his AI prompts - I particularly "enjoyed" the four-armed bride in the closing scene.

Anyway, no AI was involved in making the track, at least. It is immediately recognisably Pulp, right down to a short spoken middle eight, and I think it might be a grower, if not a track to trouble the Champions League places of the Pulp Premier League.

Honestly, it's like the Nineties never ... etc.

* Please contact me in the unlikely event that you have a Gene warm-up gig ticket going spare... thanks.

What you like, not what you are like

It's an unbelievable 25 years since the cinema release of High Fidelity.

Directed by Stephen Frears and starring John Cusack as Rob, it remains an object lesson in how to adapt and change a successful book into an equally successful film. Nick Hornby didn't have a problem with the story relocating to Chicago, after all, so why should we? And it has a brilliant soundtrack (as a film set around a record shop should) and quotable dialogue (example left) by the mile.

Most of all, the film endures so well because of how it speaks to Generation X men. No, not Billy Idol. Blokes like you and me, born between 1965 and 1980 (Wikipedia confidently asserts), blokes now properly into their fifties, getting on a bit yet still waiting for that moment when they figure it out... it being life. Life is complicated. In the film, Rob excruciatingly re-examines his romantic history, trying to understand what went right and (mostly) wrong. No spoilers (not that you haven't seen it already) but he mostly works it all out, with a little help. Of course it is a fiction - if only real life were that simple.

Maybe it's because of that complexity that the quote on the left resonates - people are complicated but you can tell a lot from a person's likes and dislikes - the books, records and films that float their boat. That is why these things matter, at least to our generation. I wonder if the same will be true for Generation Z and later, now that books are electronic, records are all played through a phone's tinny, tiny speakers one track at a time ("What's an album?") and your choice of films is dictated by which streaming service you sign up to. But for us - for me - these things still matter.

You'll note, of course, that I haven't included Rob's next line of dialogue in the screenshot, in which he admits this assertion is "fucking shallow".

Anyway, we never get to find out, in the film, what Rob's Top 5 records are, though there is a clue: in his apartment, he has these records on the wall, hung in frames:

• Maggot Brain by Funkadelic
• Tonight's the Night by Neil Young
• Wild Honey by The Beach Boys
• Goo by Sonic Youth
• Double Nickels on the Dime by Minutemen

I don't know whose choices these were - Frears', Cusack's, Hornby's... some set designer's. Who knows? But it's an excuse for some songs, and hence a blog post - see what you think. High Fidelity is having a limited cinematic re-release to celebrate its birthday; why not go along? I think I might.

And the impossible question: what's your Top 5?

Public service book announcement

No, this is not an April Fool.

Slade House by David Mitchell (not that one, the other one) is currently only 99p if you have a Kindle or the Kindle app, but only for a limited time. It's bloody brilliant, you should definitely read it. It was my book of the year in 2016, when I lauded its "seductive prose and remorseless sense of the uncanny". So there.

And no, it's nothing to do with Noddy and Dave (or Cup-a-Soups).

This week, I have mostly been listening to...

...Bowerbirds and Blue Things, the new album from Brighton's Jetstream Pony. And it's an excellent slab of, in their words, "schrammelig post punk and indie-pop". Depending on which online translation service you use, schrammelig seems to mean either scruffy, smudged or "strummy", all of which seem to fit. Go on, lend it your ears.

There's a video too, if visuals are your thing.

That's alright, isn't it? Honestly, most of what I listen to is old, but occasionally something new pops up that I can get behind, and this is one such. Although there's nothing new really is there, at least not in my tastes. Because this is where I throw in that Jetstream Pony's guitarist Shaun Charman was in the George Best-era iteration of The Wedding Present.

What do you stand for?

You might have seen in the news yesterday that two RAF engineers were sentenced for vandalising a fibreglass statue of Paddington Bear, after one too many sherbets. For reference, on the right is a photo I took this morning to show the kind of statue we're talking about - they're currently dotted around all over the country.

Anyway, here's the thing. In summing up, the judge presiding over the vandalism case described Paddington as a "beloved cultural icon [who] represents kindness, tolerance and promotes integration and acceptance in our society." He went on to describe the vandals' actions as "the antithesis of everything Paddington stands for." And this is where it gets interesting.

Reaction to the judge's words has been cautiously mixed. Can a fictional, anthropomorphised talking bear really stand for anything, asks a section of society that could probably find better things to do with its time. Another, slightly more clickbaited response to that has been to observe that of course fictional characters can stand for something - people have been investing in the morality of gods for millenia, after all. And for there it all gets unseemly and petty and divisive - the antithesis indeed.

I was thinking about this yesterday, after reading the story, and then read 199 Song's excellent post which reminded me of Morgan Freeman's closing voiceover to Se7en, specifically:

Ernest Hemmingway once wrote, "The world is a fine place, and worth fighting for." I agree with the second part.

I know what I stand for. And I agree with the second part too.

Some songs.

Want to know what Cuyahoga is about?

...they're never gonna make you stand in line...

...I am a moth who just wants to share your light...

...All of these people who want us to fail, I won't let that happen now...

New to NA: Sad Sells

Sad Sells are a six-piece band from Manchester about whom I know very little. I heard a version of Don't Feel Sad on 6 Music at the weekend, and something chimed with me - perhaps the "I don't feel much, but I don't feel sad" refrain - so I investigated a little deeper. They have a YouTube channel, Soundcloud and other stuff, of course. Guy Garvey was quick to make Smiths comparisons but I think that's lazy on his part - just because they have an M postcode and some jangly guitar sounds. But aside from the fact that they are not the sons and heirs of Morrissey and Marr, I think they are making a half-decent noise. See what you think.

Heaven knows I've tried

I don't say this often, but there's a good chance this will be the best song you hear all day.

The Amusements clan has been working its way through Ted Lasso - it's mostly feelgood, mostly family-friendly, mostly funny television that we all get something out of (though the something in question probably varies somewhat amongst the clan).

The title theme is by Marcus Mumford, of Mumford and Sons, and serial soundtrack specialist Tom Lowe; it's an upbeat, positive, happy sounding two and a bit minutes that ably gets you in the mood for what is to come next. It's catchy, it's la-la-alongable, it's everything a good theme tune for a light entertainment programme should be.

And then there's Jeff Tweedy's version.

The sometime Wilco frontman's beautiful acoustic rendition is also used in the show (episode nine of series two, fact fans), specifically to soundtrack a scene following AFC Richmond's FA Cup semi-final thrashing by Manchester City, when coach Beard takes the tube back from Wembley alone. And it is wonderful. Jeff's delicate, finger-picking guitar lets the lyric come much more to the fore, and the upbeat postivity is suddenly replaced by resignation, sadness and, ultimately, acceptance. It's fantastic, I think, and, to repeat myself, is probably the best thing you'll hear today. Here it is.

Yeah, it might be all that you get
Yeah, I guess this might well be it

If you slow down for a second, take your time
You know I'm yours if you remember that you're mine
And when everybody's telling me I have no time 
I prove 'em wrong again

Yeah, it might be all that you get
Yeah, I guess this might well be it
Well, heaven knows I've tried

No, my hands won't be tied down
And I will not lay them down 
'Cause I can finally see the truth
So simple but so clear
Accepting an ocean's depths were out of reach for me and you

If you're coming up for air breathing in
You know I'll be there when you first begin
And when everybody's telling us we have no time 
We'll prove 'em wrong again

'Cause, yeah, it might be all that you get
Yeah, I guess this might well be it
But heaven knows I've tried

How long can you wait?

Despite Martin's 2012 statement "I’m sure now would be a very apt time to reform Gene, but I would rather eat my own penis. Fried. With shallots.", and the tension that sprung up around his performing Gene songs at a solo farewell concert without the rest of the band, this is happening. I guess time heals all wounds (and seasons shallots).

From the band's statement this morning:

Today marks an incredible 30 years since the release of our debut album Olympian. It feels like only yesterday we released these songs and we’re endlessly grateful for the love and support you've shown us over the years. To celebrate, we are beyond excited to announce that we will be reuniting for a very special show at the legendary Eventim Apollo in Hammersmith this October.

And there's a shiny new website to go with it all too, plus an official page on Bacefook and the 'gram.

I know October is a while off, and there's many a slip 'twixt cup and lip, but for now, this looks like it really is happening. I will be there, come hell or high water. Until then... from 30 years ago, here's the band's TV debut on The Late Show. Great time-capsule TV intro too.

P.S. Only by looking at the directorship of the newly formed Gene Touring Limited on the Companies House website did this lifelong Gene fan discover that Martin's middle name is Charles. So there you go.

P.P.S. The Rozzer has been interviewed by the NME. There may be warm-up gigs! There may be dates in 2026!

Back in town

Much as I like, and have very specific mental associations with, the Thin Lizzy original, I do love a cover version that tries to do something a bit different. The Cardigans slow it down a bit, add some sort of tinkling keyboard line in the middle eight and, as always, deploy their trump card in the shape of Nina Persson's vocals. Any excuse, etc.

For comparison, the Thin Lizzy original.

What are your favourite cover versions that "do different"?

Hush

I'm tired of people talking loudly during gigs. If you want to have a chat with your mate, go to the bar. Other gig-goers should not have to struggle to hear the music over the sound of you and yours having a catch-up.

I'm so tired of it that, after a particularly noise-disrupted gig (Suede in 2023), I considered trying to start a campaign to make talking loudly during gigs socially unacceptable. HUSH, I was going to call it, thinking myself clever. Of course I went nowhere with the idea, because I can count the number of people in the world who give a toss what I think on my fingers, so what would be the point? All I did was get as far as roughing up a campaign logo, which I present here for anyone to use however they see fit. You can click any of these for a full-size version.

I did get as far as making this available as a T-shirt though, and a baseball cap, and a mug, and a sticker, and all the rest. Knock yourselves out. Spread the word... quietly... Until then, here's an obvious song that you can listen to without anyone talking over it: Kula Shaker's cover of Hush.

Blue Friday: Ciao!

What do you get if take a peak-Miki Lush, add a dollop of Jarvis, a dash of melodica (I think?) and a cutting, bittersweet break-up lyric? Well, Ciao!, of course. It tries so hard to be upbeat about the turn of events, but the song doth protest too much, I think. From their last album, 1996's Lovelife, here it is.

I've been so happy since I walked away
I never thought that I could feel as great as I do today
'Cause you were nothing but a big mistake
And life is wonderful, now that I'm rid of you

Oh I must've been crazy to have stayed with you
I can't believe I thought I was in love with you
But now the scales have fallen I can really see
And I say go to hell, 'cause thats where you took me

Well, I've felt better since I slammed that door
You always cramped my style, I never noticed before
It's been a non-stop party since I flew the coop
I can't believe I fell for such a loser like you

And is it any wonder that I felt so blue
When I was always having to put up with you
Oh, here we go again, just lay the blame on me
Don't say another word, 'cause sweetheart, you're history

I know that you miss me really
Bet you wish that you still had me
You'll never find someone like me but
I've got no regrets at all

'Cause I've met this girl and she's so good to me
She's really beautiful, fantastic company
Oh, when I'm with her I realize what love can be
Because she's fifty times the person you will ever be

Good luck, mister, do you think I care?
Since you've been gone the offers have been everywhere
I've got a million guys just lining up for me
I've turned a corner, boy, my life is ecstasy

Well, I've been in heaven since I walked away
I never thought that I could feel as great as I do today
'Cause you were nothing but a waste of space
And life is wonderful now that I'm over you

And lo...

...a generation of introverted indie boys fell for Zooey Deschanel, just like that. Obligatory sigh, etc.

For completeness, here's the parody she and Joseph Gordon-Levitt gamely did for some Josh Horowitz show or other. "You like The Shat?"

Joy

Struggling to find the joy in anything at the moment, least of all the staples - reading, writing, listening to music, playing the guitar, cycling - that usually provide it with ease. Only one song for it then.

Oh, Harriet (obligatory sigh).

Revival of a revival

Well, it's the 1st of March, and this is from third album Marchin' Already. You can see what I did there.

Lots of people don't have much time for Ocean Colour Scene, but I always quite liked them. I'm seeing them live in the summer, supporting Roger Daltrey, can you believe?

This is a fine old song too. Guitarist and Weller-wingman Steve Cradock, in particular, is giving it the full mod revival revival, and is all the better for it, in my book.

Hell of a driving song too.

Enough with the RIPs

Seems like barely a day goes by at the moment without someone dying that gives pause for thought. As I write this, the circumstances of Gene Hackman's death are unclear, beyond that he, his wife and their dog were all found dead together at their home.

For some, Gene will forever be Popeye Doyle. For others, he may be the definitive big-screen Lex Luthor. But for me, he will always be Little Bill Daggett, the role that garnered him a second Oscar. Unforgiven is a rare thing, just about a perfect movie, something that I always watch whenever it is on, regardless of how often I have seen it and despite also owning it on DVD. All the principals in it are superb, but none more so than Gene.

And I haven't even mentioned The Conversation.

RIP Gene and Betsy.