One thing you can be pretty sure the Eagles never did was to take it easy. Though already veterans of several countrywide late 1960s bands from the tail-end of the country rock boom, as you’ll read in this new Deluxe Edition, by the time the original line-up came together at Doug Weston’s Troubadour Club in Los Angeles, they weren’t so much disheartened by what had gone before, more primed and ready to make their next move.
In the band’s circle were other promising artists. Linda Ronstadt, with whom they first performed together. John David Souther, who was in a band with Frey. And Jackson Browne, who, like Souther, contributed material to the new group. “Everyone was coming to California, and in the end that was what they were writing about,” Browne told Uncut in just one of the eye-opening archive interviews you’ll find inside this latest Ultimate Music Guide. “That projected dream of what freedom could be. Vacate your assigned positions in life and be what you fucking want.”
Now in the right place at the right time, the Eagles seized their moment. Ambitious musically as well as personally, they were driven by what some called perfectionism, but might more correctly be identified as a desire to maximise their potential. Over their legendary run of albums in the 1970s – reviewed in-depth on the following pages – the band moved from definitively mellow recordings with contributions from each member, through concept albums, and increasingly to a completely unique and widescreen take on the state of their era. Along the way, they touched on ecology, paranoid relationships, hard rock and disco.
The fact that the Eagles are still playing in 2024 – now on the “Long Goodbye Tour” – is down to the strength of music made on that run of 1970s albums. In his most recent meeting with Uncut, the band’s driving force, Don Henley, was circumspect on many aspects of the band’s career – but still couldn’t quite get over their decision to reform in 1994, and just how much Eagles music still means.
“When the Eagles broke up for 14 years, we didn’t know there were so many people who still wanted to see us play,” Don told Andy Gill. “We were just too angry and fed up with each other: ‘I’m not getting onstage with that guy again, no matter how many people want to see us!’ But when we started touring again, we were just flabbergasted at how many people were turning up.”
Enjoy the magazine, and the shows if you’re going. And take it easy, of course. Get your copy here
After a hellish few years, versatile songwriter produces her best work to date
To say that Nadine Shah has been through a lot since 2020 would be an understatement. On top of a global pandemic, she lost her mother to cancer, got married, attempted suicide, went to rehab and got divorced. All of which is funnelled directly into her latest record. Although it explores pain, death, mental illness and the dizzying process of coming out of all of that, it’s also a record that contains bundles of beauty, tenderness, humour and even joy.
Made in collaboration with her long-term writing partner Ben Hillier, it is also musically the most varied and exciting album the pair have made together. The opening “Even Light” is driven by an infectious and bouncing bassline that drills into the core of the song as Shah’s voice floats atop, while subtle electronics bubble away and brass-like synth stabs punctuate. It sets the tone for an album that is leaps and bounds above anything else Shah has done before – a record that’s layered and detailed, coated with beautifully rich production, yet also spacious and considered.
Lead single “Topless Mother” is perhaps the track that feels most in keeping with Shah’s previous work, with a whiff of the PJ Harvey and Bad Seeds influence still hovering around, but the song is somewhat of an anomaly. The flurry of drums, crunchy guitars and animated vocal delivery – which, combined, could easily be mistaken for something by the Swedish psych-rock outfit Goat – soon gives way to an album that winds things down rather than cranks them up.
Any familiarities quickly dissipate: “Food Or Fuel”, for instance, absorbs the influence of the Indian disco-jazz-pop artist Asha Puthli, and turns it into a subtle funk strut that is soothing and hypnotising as it locks into its twisting, pulsing rhythm. Shah leans into singing more than ever here, so her voice feels like a vital instrumental force as well as functioning as an intimate and captivating narrator. This is most perfectly embodied on the sprechgesang track “Sad Lads Anonymous”, which sees Shah lashing out generous helpings of self-deprecating humour. “This was a dumb idea, even for you,” she begins, as a gothic groove locks in, and she recalls tales from “the madhouse” along with a preceding spiralling period. It’s brilliantly direct songwriting that is honest and raw but also goes way above the diary entry confessional. The lyrics are dark and anguished but biting, funny and vivid; it almost feels perverse to extract such pleasure from something so clearly rooted in torment and turbulence, but such dichotomies are what gives the album its flair and punch.
As a whole, guitars take a backseat role here and are generally utilised for adding texture and atmosphere, while synths are plentiful. Itchy, propulsive post-punk-esque rhythms are largely ditched for a more glacial and unfurling pace that gives Shah’s voice room to breathe and soar. On tracks such as “Greatest Dancer” and “Hyperrealism”, her voice sounds truly remarkable. On the former it wraps itself around immersive electronics and a potently hypnotic beat, while the delicate composition of the latter, merging piano and warm blasts of synth, leaves room for a vocal performance that at one point suggests Nina Simone before gliding into something else, sparkling with pristine and devastatingly beautiful elegance.
The closing track exists as a perfect embodiment of the album and Shah’s approach to tackling the difficult subject matter. Its title, “French Exit”, uses a phrase that means ducking out of a party without saying goodbye to explore her suicide attempt. “Just a French exit/A quiet little way out/Nothing explicit,” she sings over a gentle yet compelling beat that almost recalls Oneohtrix Point Never as it gently builds. It’s a roomy, expansive song that feels quietly haunting and devastating, perhaps even more so because it leaves such space for genuine contemplation as the album ends. It allows you, forces you even, to reflect on the remarkably hard journey this artist has been through, while soaking up the immense beauty that’s been created in its wake.
A second post confirmed, “Wayne Kramer passed away today peacefully from pancreatic cancer. He will be remembered for starting a revolution in music, culture, and kindness.”
Photo: Jim Newberry
Born Wayne Kambes in Detroit, Kramer and friend Fred “Sonic” Smith formed the Motor City Five, shortened to the MC5, in the mid-’60s. The group eventually solidified around Kramer, Smith and frontman Rob Tyner, drummer Dennis “Machine Gun” Thompson and bassist Michael Davis.
Managed by political activist and White Panther Party leader John Sinclair, the MC5 became house band at Detroit’s Grande Ballroom in 1967. The following year, the band took part in an anti-war protest at the Democratic National Convention in Chicago. They also signed to Elektra in 1968 and recorded their debut album, Kick Out the Jams, live at the Grande Ballroom on October 30 and 31, 1968.
Broke, harassed and suffering from drug problems, MC5 eventually split up in 1972 – then in 1975, Kramer was convicted of selling drugs to undercover federal agents, and spent four years in prison.
The Clash paid tribute to Kramer’s time inside on “Jail Guitar Doors” – the title of which became the name of a non-profit organisation he co-founded with his wife and manager Margaret Saadi Kramer and Billy Bragg in the mid-2000s.
After his release from prison in 1979, Kramer joined Was (Not Was), but it wasn’t until the 1990s that he emerged as a solo artist, releasing his debut album, The Hard Stuff, in 1995.
Kramer revived the MC5 first in 2018 and again in 2022. He was working on a new MC5 album, which also featured Dennis Thompson, among other guests.
“This album continues from where [1971’s] High Time left off, in that I think it’s artists’ responsibility to reflect the times they’re going through,” he told Uncut. “We made an album that is in sync with the challenges we’re facing today, and that carries a positive message.”
As well as his solo and soundtrack work, Kramer wrote a memoir, The Hard Stuff, which was published in 2018.
According to Kramer’s Instagram account, “If you would like to honor Wayne, donations are appreciated to his nonprofit organization, Jail Guitar Doors @jailguitardoorsusa”
This must be the place! Talking Heads, Kim Gordon, the Waterboys and Phosphorescent star in our latest issue
As you’ll have gathered by now, there’s a new issue of Uncut currently in shops, featuring a cavalcade of excellent new interviews and features as well as our definitive reviews section and a free, 15-track CD.
Here’s a rundown of some highlights from the new issue…
TALKING HEADS
When TALKING HEADS reunited briefly last September, it both reaffirmed their unparalleled status as art-rock pioneers and drew a line under their complicated history. As the band prepare to reissue their influential run of albums, DAVID BYRNE, JERRY HARRISON, TINA WEYMOUTH and CHRIS FRANTZ – accompanied by a handful of collaborators, contemporaries and admirers – talk us through 30 of their greatest songs, charting an innovative musical journey from the twitchy minimalism of their early recordings to the expansive, panglobal alchemy of their imperial phase. “We weren’t going to adopt the traditional rock’n’roll stances,” Byrne tells Sam Richards. “So we thought, in our own modest way, we’ll do something that speaks to us…”
KIM GORDON
With an urgent new album, The Collective, tackling connectivity, communication and consumerism in the modern world, KIM GORDON continues to push her creative boundaries to their limit. But back in her old stomping ground of New York, she takes April Long on a tour of her former neighbourhood – to discover how her earliest musical experiments intersect with her present day adventures. “I never expected to be making music in the first place,” she confides.
PHOSPHORESCENT
Despite finding peace and stability with his young family, Matthew Houck – the creative force behind PHOSPHORESCENT – still agonizes over his intensely melancholic music. As his first album in six years surveys both his hellraising past and becalmed present, Houck guides Uncut round his Nashville haunts in search of answers. “The sign of a good record is that weird panic attack you have once it’s done,” he confesses to Stephen Deusner.
THE WATERBOYS
With This Is The Sea, MIKE SCOTT’s restless musical quest finally came into focus. As a new 6CD box set illuminates the spirit of his Big Music, Scott revisits the inspiration and perfectionism behind THE WATERBOYS’ first great album. Stand by for cameos from Tom Verlaine and Bob Dylan, outdoing U2 and a witch’s book of spells. “I was full with the music,” learns Graeme Thomson.
JOHN FAHEY
65 years on from his trail-blazing debut album Blind Joe Death, JOHN FAHEY’s influence looms larger than ever. From his acoustic voyages to his latter-day noise-rock experiments, he brought a fearless, if often offbeat, sensibility to his music. Here, friends and acolytes help Tom Pinnock uncover the truth behind this contrary artist’s life and career. “Even at his lowest ebb,” we hear, “Fahey found ways to reinvent himself.”
ROSALI
From bluegrass to free improv, power punk and beyond, ROSALI has refused to be pigeonholed. But with a new album, Bite Down, full of country-tinged folk and inventive guitar jams, Brian Howe meets the singer-songwriter in North Carolina to explore her many creative selves. “I know how to do this stuff, because I’ve been doing it forever,” she reveals.
AN AUDIENCE WITH… MICHAEL MOORCOCK
The sci-fi titan and Hawkwind collaborator recalls encounters with Bowie, Siouxsie and a saxplaying, stage-diving frog
Fifty years on, Macca’s miracle continues to define his essence
Context always matters, but in the case of Band On The Run – celebrating its 50th birthday with this expanded half-speed remaster and a stripped-back companion version – it’s the difference between a great album and a mythical one. Context matters because Band On The Run is an album whose essence is inseparable from the superhuman act of determination to which it owes its existence. The origin story has long passed into rock lore: Paul and Linda McCartney’s decision to utilise an EMI-owned studio in Nigeria that turned out to be only half-built when they arrived; an ominous visit from Fela Kuti who was convinced that Paul and Linda were here to “steal” African music; the knifepoint theft of personal belongings, among them demos and lyrics that forced McCartney to re-create them from memory; and a fainting episode (initially thought to be a heart attack). Indeed, it started before they even boarded the plane – the eleventh-hour withdrawal of drummer Denny Seiwell and guitarist Henry McCullough meant the version of Wings which made it to Lagos was barely a group, with Denny Laine the only remaining member outside of Paul and Linda.
McCartney, of course, responded as only McCartney can, his militant optimism abundant in a title track which exhorts its participants to do little short of shrug off their predicament and revel in the legend being created by their leader in real time: “In the town they’re searching for us everywhere/But we never will be found.” In this moment alone, you can apprehend the measure of McCartney’s determination to show his ex-bandmates just what they were missing, even electing to play the drum parts himself. In a 2009 interview with Dermot O’Leary, McCartney admitted, “I was like, ‘Screw you – I’m gonna make an album you were gonna wish you were on.’”
If this was indeed the mission statement established at the outset of the sessions, no song on Band On The Run authenticates that manifesto quite as exquisitely as “Mamunia”. Ostensibly about the rain in Los Angeles, here’s McCartney leading by example, exhorting us to take succour from the bigger picture: “The rain comes falling from the sky/To fill the stream that fills the sea/And that’s where life began for you and me.”
In 1973, this bloodymindedness was something he could access at will, almost as a party trick. “Picasso’s Last Words” is what happened when a starstruck Dustin Hoffman challenged McCartney to write a song in front of him – and its air of sweet, stoned equanimity extends to two other key songs. The first, “Mrs Vandebilt”, is a zen repudiation of a protagonist who, in his 2021 book The Lyrics, McCartney said personified “the bothersome aspects of being rich”. And while cynics may contend that’s easy for him to say, it’s worth remembering that just three years previously, he’d been a Beatle in exile, assets frozen, living a frugal existence with Linda and their kids in a dilapidated Scottish farmhouse. Every word has been earned.
Then there’s “Bluebird”, on which he exhorts his subject, “Touch your lips with a magic kiss/And you’ll be a bluebird too/And you’ll know what love can do” – and because it’s impossible not to make these comparisons, you can’t help but feel for John Lennon, who not so long ago had been straining every sinew to project the conjugal idyll that Paul achieves here so effortlessly. It’s also Lennon to whom your thoughts turn on “Let Me Roll It”, thanks to that exquisitely crunchy riff and the echo on McCartney’s voice. But here it’s the thermal upswell of Linda’s keyboard that raises the temperature and releases endorphins that make you feel this surely deserved to be more than just a B-side. No disputing the song which was chosen on its A-side, of course: “Jet” is the reason why McCartney is the deity to whom every power pop practitioner in his wake prays. If you’re not already playing American football stadiums when you write a song like that, then it’ll certainly fast-track you to that point.
Which, of course, is exactly the trajectory that opened up for Wings in the years after Band On The Run. It’s a paradoxical record: one where the loss of two members magnifies both their sound and their place in the pop firmament. What this latest iteration of the album drives home is that this was no mere accident. The “underdubbed” versions accompanying this reissue reveal that, before arriving at George Martin’s AIR studios to finish the job, the Lagos sessions weren’t so different to the homespun intimacy of the Wings albums that preceded them. In this sparer setting, the extra space plays to the benefit of McCartney’s loyal co-travellers: “No Words”, which serves reminder just how vital the harmonies of Linda and the song’s co-writer Denny Laine were when it came to defining the Wings sound; Linda’s purring ARP Odyssey and MiniMoog contributions are what suddenly take centrestage on “Jet” and a rollicking vocal-free canter through “Nineteen Hundred And Eighty Five”.
Yet, none of that detracts from the primary energy source of Band On The Run. To listen to the album in the wake of Peter Jackson’s Get Back is to be reminded that this is the same man who, when faced with a group floundering despondently in an alien environment, strapped on his guitar and throttled “Get Back” out of it before our disbelieving eyes. In the wake of Denny Laine’s recent passing, one can only imagine what a bittersweet sensation it must be for McCartney to look at the album’s multi-celebrity jailbreak cover and ponder that he and (then British light-heavyweight UK boxing champion) John Conteh are now the sole survivors. And over time, these songs – the bullet points of an entire worldview, no less – will outlive us all. In decades to come, when people wonder what Paul McCartney was actually like, all of the answers can be found on this unassumingly miraculous record.
It’s landing on April 5 on double LP, CD, download and on streaming platforms and stars Dave Brock, Richard Chadwick, Magnus Martin, Doug MacKinnon and Tim “Thighpaulsandra” Lewis.
Stories From Time And Space follows their 2023 album The Future Never Waits.
The track listing is: Our Lives Can’t Last Forever The Starship (One Love One Life) What Are We Going To Do While We’re Here The Tracker Eternal Light Till I Found You Underwater City The Night Sky Traveller of Time & Space Re-generate The Black Sea Frozen In Time Stargazers
You can read an interview with Hawkwind collaborator Michael Moorcock in the new issue of Uncut – on sale now!
It will be available on all streaming platforms and pressed on limited-edition 7” vinyl. It will also be accompanied by a lyric video on his official YouTube channel. The song was produced by Freddy Wexler and written by Wexler, Arthur Bacon, Wayne Hector and Joel.
Mitchell’s live return to California will feature Brandi Carlile and the Joni Jam. Tickets will be available for the general public from Friday, February 2 Tickets will be available for purchase here.
In the meantime, Mitchellwill perform at the 66th Annual GRAMMY Awards this coming Sunday (February 4). This will be Mitchell’s first-ever performance at the GRAMMYs. She is currently nominated for Best Folk Album (Joni Mitchell at Newport) – a document of her live comeback performance at the Newport Folk Festival on June 24, 2022.
Dylan will perform throughout March, kicking off with two shows at the Broward Center for the Performing Arts in Fort Lauderdale, Florida on March 1 and 2.
Dylan’s website have also published an apology following confusion last week that Dylan would also perform in April in Missouri, Kansas and Texas: “Some dates were previously published in error. We apologize and will post updates as shows are confirmed.”
Here, then, are the currently confirmed dates:
MARCH 1: Broward Center for the Performing Arts, Fort Lauderdale, Florida
MARCH 2: Broward Center for the Performing Arts, Fort Lauderdale, Florida
MARCH 5: Ruth Eckerd Hall, Clearwater, Florida
MARCH 6: Ruth Eckerd Hall, Clearwater, Florida
MARCH 7: Suncoast Credit Union Arena, Fort Myers, Florida
MARCH 9: Walt Disney Theater, Orlando, Florida
MARCH 10: Walt Disney Theater, Orlando, Florida
MARCH 12: Moran Theater at Jacksonville Center for the Performing Arts, Jacksonville, Florida
MARCH 14: The Classic Center, Athens, Georgia
MARCH 17: Belk Theater, Charlotte, North Carolina
MARCH 15: The Classic Center, Athens, Georgia
MARCH 18: Crown Theatre, Fayetteville, North Carolina
MARCH 21: Harrah’s Cherokee Center, Asheville, North Carolina
All print copies come with a free CD – Real Live Wire, featuring 15 of the month’s best new music including The Jesus And Mary Chain, Adrianne Lenker, Rosali, Sheer Mag, Sam Lee, High Llamas, Dean McPhee and more!
INSIDE THIS MONTH’S UNCUT
TALKING HEADS: As the band prepare to reissue their influential run of albums, DAVID BYRNE, JERRY HARRISON, TINA WEYMOUTH and CHRIS FRANTZ talk Uncut through 30 of their greatest songs – charting an innovative musical journey from the twitchy minimalism of their early recordings to the expansive, panglobal alchemy of their imperial phase.
THE WATERBOYS: Mike Scott revisits the inspiration and perfectionism behind The Waterboys’ first great album – This Is The Sea. Stand by for cameos from Tom Verlaine and Bob Dylan, outdoing U2 and a witch’s book of spells.
KIM GORDON: Back in her old stomping ground of New York, the doyen of US noise rock takes Uncut on a tour of her former neighbourhood – to discover how her earliest musical experiments intersect with her present day adventures.
BOB MARLEY: Catching a fire: Dennis Morris’s intimate portraits of Bob Marley show a legend in waiting: “He was like a prophet.”
JULIA HOLTER: On her new album, the art-pop explorer finds sweet spots between experimental and exhilarating.
PHOSPHORESCENT: Despite finding peace and stability with his young family, Phosphorescent’s Matthew Houck still agonizes over his intensely melancholic music. He guides Uncut round his Nashville haunts in search of answers.
JOHN FAHEY: 65 years on from his trail-blazing debut album Blind Joe Death, the guitarist’s influence looms larger than ever. Here, friends and acolytes help us uncover the truth behind this contrary artist’s life and career.
ROSALI: From bluegrass to free improv, power punk and beyond, Rosali has refused to be pigeonholed. Uncut meets the singer-songwriter in North Carolina to explore her many creative selves.
AN AUDIENCE WITH… MICHAEL MOORCOCK: The sci-fi titan and Hawkwind collaborator recalls encounters with Bowie, Siouxsie and a sax-playing, stage-diving frog…
THE MAKING OF “TIGER FEET” BY MUD: How the Chinnichap duo gave a road-hardened glam act their first No 1.
ALBUM BY ALBUM WITH DION: He’s a rebel! The great American singer-songwriter relives his long musical trip.
MY LIFE IN MUSIC WITH J MASCIS: The Dinosaur Jr mainman shares his formative freakouts: “Nick Cave was my fashion icon in college”
REVIEWED: Sheer Mag, Liam Gallagher and John Squire, Yard Act, Faye Webster, Dean McPhee, Alan Hull, Daniel Johnson, Heldon, Cymande, Dave Alvin, Duke Garwood, Pulp and more
PLUS: Farewell Annie Nightingale and Del Palmer; return to Les Cousins; Buzzcocks… by The Fall; Charlie Parr; introducing Arushi Jain…
Plus Phosophorescent, Julia Holter, John Fahey, Mud, a free 15-track CD!
Talking Heads’ reunion last September, for a brief press tour to support the re-release of Jonathan Demme’s Stop Making Sense concert film, was one of music’s most unlikely comebacks. Here, after all, were a band who’d not just split acrimoniously – as recently as 2020, while promoting his Remain In Love memoir, Chris Frantz snipped at former bandmate David Byrne, “He can’t imagine that anyone else would be important” – but who had also moved creatively into very different spaces. Yet, coming together to celebrate their landmark movie, being in one another’s company for a period clearly found them reaching an accord. “We didn’t hate each other,” Tina Weymouth confides to Sam Richards in this month’s cover story. “We were just annoyed!”
So as Byrne, Jerry Harrison, Weymouth and Frantz reveal their plans for the next phase in their band’s unexpected afterlife, we celebrate the 30 greatest songs by these pioneering outsiders – from the twitchy minimalism of their early records to the Technicolour blowouts of their commercial peak. It’s their first Uncut cover story, so we’re especially proud of this one.
What else? 2024 is shaping up to be another strong year for new music. I’ve got on repeat play new albums by Adrianne Lenker, Julia Holter and Phosphorescent – all of whom you can read about in this issue (with more on Adrianne to come next month) – along with relative upstarts Rosali and Arushi Jain, who have both been on our radar for a few years and we’re delighted to finally cover properly in the magazine.
There are some familiar faces in this issue, too – we have Tom Pinnock’s peerless piece on John Fahey, plus new interviews with Mike Scott, Kim Gordon, J Mascis, Mud, Dion and (I’m particularly pleased with this) Michael Moorcock.
As ever, we hope there’s a lot in here for you to enjoy.
This year, Head will also release an autobiography, Ciao Ciao Bambino: A Magical Memoir, to be published by Nine Eight Books on August 15. You can pre-order a copy here.
Head also tours in May:
Thu 2 May – Glasgow, Mackintosh Church
Fri 3 May – Newcastle, Gosforth Civic Theatre
Sat 4 May – Leeds, City Varieties
Wed 8 May – Brighton, CHALK
Thu 9 May – London, Earth Theatre
Fri 10 May – Manchester, Gorilla
Fri 13 Dec – Liverpool, Liverpool Philharmonic Hall
Jonathan Demme’s beloved concert film, shot in December 1983, played in American cinemas last year, with David Byrne, Jerry Harrison, Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz reuniting to support this new edition.
According to Variety, the 4K restoration will return to American cinemas from January 27, as well as venues in Canada and the UK, ahead of the film’s impending 40th anniversary.
Tickets and venue details can be found here. The first performance takes place on Friday, February 2, at the Electric Palace in Hastings. The film plays at the Prince Charles in London on February 24, March 30, April 27 and May 25.
Meanwhile, a Collector’s Edition 4K Blu-ray is available for pre-order now from the distributor’s site here.
You can read more about Talking Heads in the next issue of Uncut…
Last night’s 11thUK Americana Music Awards recognised the UK’s thriving grassroots scene while honouring established greats, in the grand, cavernously reverberant setting of Hackney’s St. John’s Church.
In a night including awards for Billy Bragg, Dan Penn, Margo Price, Allison Russell and Michele Stodart, Jason Isbell was a frequent star presence. Presenting his International Trailblazer Award, Nick Hornby effusively emphasised his “bravery, integrity and honesty”, noting how sorry he’d been when Isbell left the Drive-By Truckers.
“I didn’t quit, I was fired,” Isbell replied, flashing a smile, before reminiscing about early days with the DBTs playing London’s much missed Borderline club aged 22, “shocked to be so far from home” and finding their Alabaman music recognised. He widened his thoughts to Americana’s place in the 21st century. “Forty years ago, people who made music that sounded like this were huge stars,” he noted. “I used to think I came in too late. Later I realised I would have been dead!” With such stardom long gone, what valuably remains, Isbell believes, is the musically devoted community represented tonight.
Isbell then leaned into his acoustic guitar to sing “King of Oklahoma”, a song about a man falling behind in every way sung in a tone of rising defiance. “Cast Iron Skillet” was better, the guitar ticking and tolling in steady time as he considered small-town racism, violence and doom, asking in a lilting voice: “Tell me, how did you ever get so low?”
Dan Penn received the International Lifetime Achievement Award. Unable to attend in person, the great Southern Soul songwriter followed recorded plaudits from Elvis Costello and Mike Scott with a considered video address from his studio. Penn recounted hooking up with Spooner Oldham, and writing “two good songs” at Chip Moman’s American Studios – including “Dark End Of The Street”. “I’m grateful to the community,” he said. “If I was there, I’d sing for you.” Instead, Michele Stodart’s all-female house band were joined by singers including Billy Bragg and Elles Bailey in a climactic Penn medley including “Dark End Of The Street”, “Do Right Woman” and “I’m Your Puppet”.
Bragg paused to testify on what that dark street had been found to mean through the years, from interracial love affairs to “our fellow citizens who rely on foodbanks” and “people whose houses are being bombed to rubble as we sing our songs tonight”.
Earlier, Bragg was honoured for the Bestselling Americana Album by a UK Artist, his career-spanning box-set The Roaring Forty. Responding to Americana’s most viral recent moment, Oliver Anthony’s welfare-bashing working-class jeremiad “Rich Men North Of Richmond”, he sang his typically direct riposte, “Rich Men Earning North Of A Million”. “Come on and join a union, brother,” he counselled. “Find out where the real problem is.” Bragg’s band then joined him for his posthumous Woody Guthrie co-write, “Way Over Yonder In The Minor Key”. Bragg also presented the Grass Roots Award to the Americana Music Association UK’s recently retired founder, Stevie Smith, responsible for much of the domestic scene’s current health.
Allison Russell won International Album of the Year for The Returner and International Artist Of The Year. Like Margo Price, who won International Song Of The Year for her single “Radio”, Russell couldn’t make it to Hackney, but marvelled at her awards company via video. “Just to be nominated alongside our queen, Lucinda Williams…” she said, sealing her gratitude with a kiss.
Michele Stodart also won big with UK Artist Of The Year, and UK Album Of The Year for Invitation. The sometime Magic Number was delighted, noting she’d been ready to give up music. She added that music had been a “lifeline” during her “insanely shy” childhood: “We moved around a lot, and music was the thing we clung to.” Stodart dedicated the pedal-steel-inflected “Push & Pull”, about the troubadour life’s price, to her daughter.
Bob Harris Origin Artist award-winner Jonny Morgan was enjoyably irreverent, spilling the beans on a recent disastrous move to Canada with his girlfriend (“She now lives in Toronto with a lovely barman called Mike”), and luring Harris last year to an après-awards liquid breakfast at Hackney’s Wetherspoons. “We need to get you in the studio, mate,” Harris opined of the lovelorn West Countryman, who sang one of the bruised results, “Sometimes It’s Grey”.
Jason Isbell handed pedal-steel guitarist Holly Carter her UK Instrumentalist Of The Year award, again musing on the wider context of a scene where it’s harder than ever to earn a crust, with session work where skilled musicians could earn big mostly gone, and players such as Carter honing their skills from love.
Lauren Housley & the Northern Cowboys won UK Song Of The Year for “High Time”, and with Housley’s glamorously glitter-wristed green velvet jumpsuit, deep-throated vocal and bulldozing country-soul sound, they sonically filled this cavernous old church. Fellow nominees St. Catherine’s Child performed “Every Generation”, heavy on harmonies, pedal-steel and fiddle, and English songwriter-pianist Elles Bailey was UK Live Act Of The Year.
A film acknowledged AMA-UK’s wider work during a preceding week of networking, talks and an Americana Songwriting Workshop with displaced people including a Ukrainian refugee, showing how this roots music is belatedly reaching out to an ever-widening community.
And here’s the full list of nominations and winners…
UK Album of the Year
Far From Saints – Far From Saints
Michele Stodart – Invitation, presented by Helen Thomas (Head of Station for BBC Radio 2)
Roseanne Reid – Lawside
Ward Thomas – Music In The Madness
International Album of the Year
Allison Russell – The Returner, presented by Nina Nesbitt
Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors – Strangers No More
Jason Isbell & The 400 Unit – Weathervanes
Margo Cilker – Valley of Heart’s Delight
UK Song of the Year
Hannah White – “Chains of Ours”
Kirsten Adamson – “My Father’s Songs”
Lauren Housley & The Northern Cowboys – “High Time”, presented by Drew Holcomb
St Catherine’s Child – “Every Generation”
International Song of the Year
Chris Stapleton – “White Horse”
Maren Morris – “The Tree”
Margo Price feat. Sharon van Etten– “Radio”, presented by Frank Turner
Noah Kahan – “Stick Season”
UK Artist of the Year
Cardinal Black
Elles Bailey
Hannah White
Michele Stodart, presented by Charlie Starr (Blackberry Smoke)
International Artist of the Year
Allison Russell, presented by Simeon Hammond Dallas & Andy Facer (Andy from 5F marketing representing Sweet Home Alabama)
Jason Isbell
Lucinda Williams
War & Treaty
UK Instrumentalist of the Year
Holly Carter, presented by Jason Isbell
Joe Coombs
Joe Harvey White
Keiron Marshall
UK Live Act of the Year
Elles Bailey, presented by Immy Doman and Risa Tabatznik (The Green Note)
Ty Segall has absolutely, once and for all, had it with the whole ‘prolific’ thing. “You know, I really dislike it,” he tells Uncut. “People used to always bring it up, but that was never my goal.”
While, let’s be honest, he only has himself to blame, he hasn’t ever intentionally tried for a record-breaking release schedule like King Gizzard. For Segall, it’s much simpler: the artists that have been important to him – from The Beatles, Black Sabbath, The Kinks, T.Rex and the Grateful Dead to Billy Childish, The Gories and his early mentors Thee Oh Sees – made a lot of records, and so he did too. 2012 was probably the peak of his productivity, a couple of years after he burst into wider view from the San Francisco garage scene: there was the lo-fi psychedelia of his White Fence collaboration, Hair, then the fuzz onslaught of Slaughterhouse with the Ty Segall Band, and finally his sludge-pop solo album Twins. Since then he’s kept up a steady stream of at least an album or two a year, if you take in side-projects, soundtracks, covers records and live LPs. Some of them – the madman – have been doubles.
Three Bells, however, is different. It might not immediately appear to be so, as Segall only released the acoustic “Hello, Hi” in summer 2022 and the sleek, machine-tooled Harmonizer in 2021. Yet those albums were recorded in 2020 and 2021, which has allowed Segall to spend almost two years on this mammoth 65-minute record. “I thought, you know what, maybe I should really take some more time,” he explains. “Because why not? So Three Bells was me stretching out.”
He’s made double albums before, including 2018’s incredible stylistic smorgasbord Freedom’s Goblin and the patchier, glammy Manipulator (2014); but none have been as cohesive or singularly strong as Three Bells. This is an album that sounds like it’s had time spent on it. It’s brilliantly recorded, pristine and perfectly imperfect. Usually, there’s a freewheeling momentum – a labrador-ish enthusiasm to match his golden mane – coursing through his albums, a good vibe that carries us through any out-there detours; but instead there’s a measured quality to Three Bells that’s not often to be found in Segall’s records. These are painstakingly crafted songs, carefully pieced together.
There’s a radical jump-cut between the disturbing “Eggman” and the infectious “My Room”, but wild juxtapositions are not something Segall does a lot of on Three Bells. Instead, a gentle compromise between styles is the guiding principle. Segall normally heads for extremes and stays there – when he makes a noisy record he turns his Death By Audio Fuzz War pedal up full, and when he goes acoustic, he keeps it quiet – but Three Bells mixes these two styles for the most part, pairing acoustic guitars with fuzzed lead parts and crisp drums and bass. Segall mentions the influence of Love’s Forever Changes to Uncut, and there’s certainly a similarity in the textures – the fingerpicked acoustics and coruscating leads on the opening “The Bell” aren’t far from those to be found on “Live And Let Live” or “A House Is Not A Motel”. The second half of “Void”, meanwhile, takes these ingredients and comes up with something closer to the way early ’70s Bowie would combine his strummed acoustic and Mick Ronson’s cocked-wah Les Paul lines.
Segall’s a Funkadelic nut, and there’s a subtle, welcoming groove to many of these songs, especially on the first side. “I Hear” struts like something from Led Zeppelin’s Presence, while “Hi Dee Dee” is closer to the reptilian disco of latter-day Queens Of The Stone Age, all harmonised guitars and falsetto vocals. “You’ll play the bass/And bring it down,” he sings, as if commenting on the music itself. “I’ll take it up…”
While the main single “My Room” is the catchiest Segall song since 2018’s “Fanny Dog”, he’s not gone AOR yet: there’s plenty of weirdness here. Side Three’s “Repetition” is a slouching slice of curdled country funk gone wrong, with strange bursts of noise crossing the stereo spectrum and Segall’s acoustic hitting discordant notes; it’s a little like something from Harvest left out to wither and warp in the sun. Next up, “To You” is a ragged punk song with acoustic guitars, spiky electric piano and Mellotron replacing electric guitars – “the space between us/Is just distance,” Segall croons. It changes into a kind of spectral, skeletal post-punk for its second half, a two-part trick that “Void” shares.
The strangest thing here is “Eggman”, co-written with his wife Denée Segall and released with customary perversity as the album’s second single. In its chromatic chord changes, garbled-tape tempo shifts, icky lyrics and free-form noise coda, it’s a throwback to 2016’s divisive Emotional Mugger days, when a theatrically minded Segall wore a baby mask onstage and – taking the concept to its limit, naturally – begged KEXP DJ Cheryl Waters to be his “mommy” during a live session. Its playground stomp eventually fades out to be replaced by a screaming, free-form noise coda.
Three Bells, however, is at its best when Segall spreads out and loosens up: “Reflections” swims gorgeously in “Dear Prudence” arpeggio spirals, Segall’s guitar saturated in Eventide phaser as he floats deep inside his psyche and invites the listener to come and explore too – “you can get to know the places inside you…” “Watcher” is another of Segall’s Bolan fantasies (remember he’s released a whole T.Rex covers record to prove his fandom), hallucinatory and withdrawn as the singer inhabits the titular character. Another highlight is “Denée”, a six-minute hymn to his wife (who sings lead on “Move” and co-wrote five songs here) in which the only repeated lyric is her name. “Talk about going deep,” Segall tells us, “that’s about as deep as you can go.” No sun-dappled fingerpicked love song, though, this is rather a jazz-rock workout with a potent scent of Zappa; driven by electric piano, bass and drums, its tonal centre shifts and modulates as Segall clings to the one thing that keeps him centred. Rather like “Revolution 9” is followed by “Good Night” on ‘The White Album’, this outré jam is followed by the short, closing lullaby “What Can We Do”.
It would be foolish to call this Segall’s best record yet, so varied and brilliant is his work so far, but it’s up there. Now in his late thirties, garage-rock’s wunderkind is growing up a little, slowing down and focusing on what’s important. Many other musicians have made a change at this age too – from Bob Dylan’s search for God to Neil Young’s embrace of the strange with Trans and Everybody’s Rockin’; 15-plus albums down the line, it’s no longer an exaggeration to place Segall in their company. Long he may run, leisurely.
An engaging look back at an inspiring backstory through the eyes of the band’s founding friends
As Jim Kerr and Charlie Burchill prepared to tour their latest version of Simple Minds – described by Kerr in the film as being as much of a “theatrical ensemble” as a traditional band – Joss Crowley’s film goes back to the start, when the pair met in a building site at their new flats in Toryglen in Glasgow – a city “in a rush to modernise” as Kerr recalls.
Kerr and Burchill, still great pals, return to Glasgow throughout the film, emphasising the importance of the city on their development, particularly how it gave focus to their own monumental ambition. Kerr visits the Carnegie Library in Govanhill, where his father encouraged him to read to flee the limitations of working-class life in a post-industrial city. Burchill visits Southside Music, where he bought opportunity in the form of guitars and strings. Later, they both stroll down to the Clyde to discuss the writing of “Waterfront”. But much as they recognise and appreciate the city’s role in their formation, it’s clear that Glasgow equally represented a place from which to escape. Simple Minds, and Kerr in particular, were hugely driven, and their work ethic – their determination to achieve success and their desire for continued improvement – is astonishing.
While many music documentaries take a more romantic approach to creativity, with success almost the afterthought, this is very much a different beast. That’s not to say that Simple Minds were mercenaries driven solely by success, as both Graeme Thomson’s excellent biography Themes For Great Cities and this documentary illustrate. It is interesting to learn about the recording of those early albums, particularly 1980’s magnificent Empires And Dance, as the band experimented and explored, shifting from punk into new wave through disco punk until they settled into a more masculine version of New Romantic. Well-chosen talking heads – Muriel Gray, Bobby Gillespie, Bob Geldof – add context, while there are contributions from other band members, managers, producers and Mariella Frostup, who was tape operator (credited as Mariella Sometimes due to her unreliability) on second album Real To Real Cacophony.
The UK breakthrough of “Promised You A Miracle” in 1982 was followed by international success with “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” in 1985, a song the band were initially reluctant to record but then made entirely their own – before it catapulted them into MTV stardom on the back of The Breakfast Club soundtrack. That same year they were invited by Geldof to play Live Aid – tellingly in Philadelphia rather than at Wembley – where they were introduced by Jack Nicholson and had the chutzpah to open with a new song, the terrific “Ghost Dancing”. Simple Minds were now consciously writing for arenas, in their own rush to modernise.
Seemingly on top of the world, they were paired with producer Jimmy Iovine, who wasn’t impressed and told them so. They rose to the challenge set by his no-nonsense, pugilistic approach by writing “Alive And Kicking” and then recording the mega-selling Once Upon A Time. Kerr’s delight in being stretched is tangible, but this marked their commercial high point. Having achieved their dream, Simple Minds lost direction. Street Fighting Years was a dramatic change in sound – too dramatic for American, which lost interest – and a gradual decline set in. They limped through the 1990s.
Kerr, semi-retired in Sicily, learnt Italian and sponsored a local football team on the condition they switched kits from blue to green-and-white hoops – interestingly, the only time Glaswegian sectarianism is mentioned throughout the film. But what happens when an ambitious group loses their drive and finds themselves playing half-empty clubs in the shadow of the stadiums they once filled? Kerr and Burchill identify a typically self-aware adjustment as they raise the stakes to ensure reinvention. The songs they were playing, these now represented nothing less than their lives, the sum total of everything they had achieved as men and as a band – and that deserved the fullest commitment on stage, no matter how many tickets they sold. Redemption beckoned.
The film’s laser-like honesty slips a little in the final moments, which are devoted to fluffing the new line-up – at least until Kerr and Burchill have their closing say. As Kerr contemplates retirement and the need for a “good ending… a full stop”, Burchill counters by saying, “Aye… until the comeback”. Kerr’s currant-like eyes light up. The comeback after the comeback? “Very lucrative”, he chuckles. Don’t bet against them.
It speaks volumes about the hardiness of the Rolling Stones that we’re not marking the 60th anniversary of the band’s recording career with a review of a deluxe remastered edition of their debut album or anything memorialising the past. Instead, The Rolling Stones: A Life In Pictures emerges as the band announce a new US tour – in support of a new album, Hackney Diamonds.
The ability of The Rolling Stones to endure and to keep creating is part of what we celebrate in this new visual history. As you’ll see (and read) inside, what that means isn’t simply the dogged ability to keep going when death robs the band of a key member like Brian Jones or Charlie Watts. It’s more about a genuine embrace of the unexpected when it occurs, a musical rolling with the punches.
In a roundabout way, you could argue it’s led to some of the band’s greatest triumphs. Without the arrival of Mick Taylor, there would be no Sticky Fingers. If the UK didn’t have such dramatic taxation in the early 1970s, no Exile On Main St. Without the many convictions and visa refusals arising from the making of that album, it’s arguable that we’d be without the torpid grooves of Goats Head Soup.
Inside, you’ll find images from those key stopping points on the band’s journey, and many more besides. Making a breakthrough on tour with the Everly Brothers in the UK in 1963. Discovering America for the first time in 1964. In the studio. Backstage larks. Making promotional videos. Even on their way to appear in court. Beyond their fame, it’s in the special, rather subversive, character of the Rolling Stones to give something special to a photographer, whatever the occasion.
It’s on stage that the band are at their best, though, and it’s there where we leave them here. Playing a new song with Lady Gaga and heading out again, on to their next adventure.
Revelator is released on April 5, by his new label, Verve / Decca Records. You can pre-order the album here.
And you can hear the title track here:
Revelator features collaborators including Jack Lawrence of The Raconteurs, Jim White of Dirty Three and Houck’s partner — singer-songwriter and pianist Jo Schornikow — who wrote an original song for the album, “The World Is Ending“.
The tracklisting for Revelator is:
Revelator The World Is Ending Fences Impossible House Wide As Heaven A Moon Behind The Clouds All The Same A Poem On The Men’s Room Wall To Get It Right
You can read more on Phosphorescent’s welcome return in the next issue of Uncut..
Mark Knopfler has announced details of his new album, One Deep River, which is released on April 12 on his own British Grove label via EMI. The album is available to pre-order here.
You can hear the first single from the album, “Ahead Of The Game“, below.
One Deep River was produced by Knopfler and his longstanding collaborator Guy Fletcher and was recorded at British Grove Studios in London.
The band on One Deep River features Mark Knopfler on guitars, Jim Cox and Guy Fletcher on keyboards, Glenn Worf on bass, Ian Thomas on drums and Danny Cummings on percussion, Richard Bennett on guitar, Greg Leisz on pedal and lap steel; Mike McGoldrick provides whistle and uilleann pipes, and John McCusker plays fiddle, while Emma and Tamsin Topolski add backing vocals.
The album will be available on CD, deluxe 2CD, double gatefold vinyl, cassette and a special limited edition box set that will include the album on both vinyl and CD, 5 bonus tracks on CD, 4 exclusive bonus tracks on LP, a litho print of Mark and some of the guitars played on the record, a guitar pick set and tin, and an enamel badge.
