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Jim Morrison quoted Alice Cooper in ‘Roadhouse Blues’

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Jim Morrison used a line from a conversation with Alice Cooper in the classic Doors track 'Roadhouse Blues'. “We were sitting there drinking and Jim comes in and he flops down,” says Cooper on his breakfast show on Planet Rock radio. “I said that I had got up this morning and got myself a b...

Jim Morrison used a line from a conversation with Alice Cooper in the classic Doors track ‘Roadhouse Blues’.

“We were sitting there drinking and Jim comes in and he flops down,” says Cooper on his breakfast show on Planet Rock radio.

“I said that I had got up this morning and got myself a beer and while we’re talking he just writes that down. So they go in and they’re doing the song and the next thing I hear is ‘Woke up this morning and I got myself a beer’ and I went ‘I just said that a second ago!’”

“He was very spontaneous in the way things were written,” he adds.

The revealing story forms part of a Doors special which is due to air July 27 at 6pm (UK time) and repeated on August 1 6pm on www.planetrock.com.

Cooper and The Doors were both based in Los Angeles at the height of their fame in the late ‘60s and he witnessed some of Morrison’s legendary bad behaviour.

“The thing about Jim was it was sometimes dangerous being around him because there was no such thing as a dare. He would jump out of cars and roll down hills,” says Cooper.

“At a big party for The Doors at the 6000 building on Sunset he’s got a bottle of whiskey in each hand, on top of the building balancing like a high wire act. One gust of wind and he is over. I’m sitting there going ‘How come no one is pulling him off the ledge? It’s Jim Morrison!’ and they’re like ‘If he falls, he falls.’

“It was very odd to me that there wasn’t a little more of reigns pulled in especially as he was the biggest rock star in the world at that point.”

First Look – Shane Meadows’ Somers Town

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At first glance, it might seem strange to find Shane Meadows shooting a “legacy project” recording Eurostar’s move from Waterloo to St Pancras. Meadows, after all, is best known for a raft of movies that’ve chronicled suburban working class life in and around his native Nottingham. He’s hardly, you’d think, the obvious candidate to shoot a promo film intended to, ah, push the boundaries of brand communications. And for a company whose most memorable contribution to advertising featured Kylie skipping gaily round Paris. Still, according to a lengthy piece about the film in Campaign I’ve just been sent, the story goes that Eurostar wanted to harness something called the “power of unbranding”. Which means, basically, they were happy to bring Meadows on board the project and let him have free reign. Apparently, Eurostar didn’t even see Somers Town until it screened earlier this year at the Berlin Film Festival. There is, as you might imagine, plenty of marketing speak in the Campaign feature – “the real secret will be finding enlightened clients who see that branded content does not have to be full of logos and messages,” says one exec. Amusingly, though, you can’t help but spot product placement in the film – however artfully Meadows’ disguises it. There’s plenty of shots of trains, the station site itself, and even a fantastic scene with one character leaning against a hoarding that informs us: “St Pancras – opening November 2007”. Still, however engaging these digressions may be, what’s important here, I guess, is whether the film itself is any good, and quite where it fits in Meadows’ canon. It certainly dovetails with Meadows’ usual narrative interests: in this case, the relationship that develops between two kids, the subject of A Room For Romeo Brass and, to some extent, This Is England. Here, it’s a Polish lad, Marek (Piotr Jagiello), whose father Mariusz is – yes – working on the Eurostar rail terminal. (In one unintentionally hilarious piece of less-than-subliminal advertising, Mariusz tells Marek, “Today I went under the sea on a train. It only takes a couple of hours each way.”) Marek spends his days drifting round Somers Town, the area directly behind the railway station, where he falls in with local wheeler-dealer Graham (Perry Benson, from This Is England, who, with his knock-off Arsenal t-shirts with “Terry Henry” emblazoned on the back, provides much of the film’s humour). Marek meets Tomo (Thomas Turgoose), who’s run away from home in Nottingham, and the two strike up a friendship predicated, initially, by mutual loneliness. Soon, they both develop a competitive crush on a French café worker, Maria (Elisa Lasowski). So far, so very Shane Meadows. But what’s missing here is the psychotic antagonist – traditionally played by Paddy Considine – to throw a spanner in the works and create some kind of narrative tension. What we have, then, is a very sweet story of friendship that, at 65 minutes long, just about gets away without the need of much dramatic conflict. In fact, the most dramatic event in the film is when Tomo is beaten up by the local yoot on his first night in London and his bag is nicked. But even this provides some of Meadows’ typically warm-hearted humour, as Tomo and Marek lift a bag of clothes from a laundrette to replace the stolen ones -– only to find it’s full of women’s garments. “I look like a female golfer,” he protests. Turgoose (and to some extent, Benson) provide some clear links to Meadows’ other films. It’s interesting to see Turgoose, two years on from This Is England, having lost some of his puppy fat, his voice now broken. It’s like meeting a seldom-seen nephew at a wedding and spotting how much they've grown. Turgoose, you'll be pleased to note, seems to be carrying on the potential he showed in This Is England -- and props, too, to Jagiello. Clearly, English isn't his first language, and he does a really good job here as the gangly, awkward Marek. That it’s shot in black and white and features, for the first time since 1997’s Twenty Four Seven, significant contributions to the soundtrack from Gavin Clark and Clayhill, make it feel like one of Meadows’ earlier movies. After all, it’s only 10 minutes longer than 1996’s Small Time, his first film. Where it might suggest Meadows is going next isn’t entirely clear. Although it’s his first film set outside Nottingham, there’s very little indication that any great artistic developments are forthcoming. It feels, in fact, like a stop-gap; but one, however brief, that’s full of charm. Somers Town opens in the UK on August 22

At first glance, it might seem strange to find Shane Meadows shooting a “legacy project” recording Eurostar’s move from Waterloo to St Pancras. Meadows, after all, is best known for a raft of movies that’ve chronicled suburban working class life in and around his native Nottingham. He’s hardly, you’d think, the obvious candidate to shoot a promo film intended to, ah, push the boundaries of brand communications. And for a company whose most memorable contribution to advertising featured Kylie skipping gaily round Paris.

Calexico: “Carried To Dust”

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There are a few records around the Uncut office at the moment that I think I could responsibly class as disappointing, not least the new Mercury Rev album, which ambitiously finds them trying to reinvent themselves as whimsical cosmic ravers. It’s certainly not a pale retread of “Deserter’s Songs”, like the last couple, but it’s not hugely successful either. And the final track, “A Squirrel And I”, is so oppressively cute that it has the awful effect of making me wary of their earlier records, which I loved; as if this knowledge about squirrels will somehow reveal their old fantasias to be just as twee. I mention this because “Snowflake/Midnight” prompted a modicum of fuss on a playlist blog a couple of weeks ago – the same one on which Calexico’s “Carried To Dust” first surfaced. One worried poster asked me whether this was one of the billed “disappointments”, to which I replied rapidly and briefly that it wasn’t. A few days later, I got an email from an old fan of the band. “Interested to see that you embraced the new Calexico album on your blog without reference to the last one,” they wrote. “I think the words ‘desperately required return to form’ are appropriate.” Harsh words, I think. But it’s true that “Garden Ruin” marginally alienated a bunch of faithful Calexico fans, by dropping a lot of the South-Western set dressing and making a more straightforward singer-songwriterish album. It was probably a sensible move; a mildly anxious assertion that the core musicality of the band had a life beyond all the regional colour. But the end product, if memory serves, felt somehow unresolved: yes, Calexico were not entirely dependent on the border country schtick – but for sure, their music was so much more rich and atmospheric when the mariachi flourishes and so on were present in the mix. The good news, then, is that “Carried To Dust” is a quiet retreat into older territory. Rather than focusing on Joey Burns’ voice exclusively, this Calexico album has that deep, variegated texture of their best work, with Wavelab technician Craig Schumacher back on production duty. Different voices and languages share the microphone, instrumental passages are as important as the vocal tracks; the album feels more like a vivid musical tapestry than a formal collection of songs – an egoless expression of musical community, rather than a mere band doing their work. Even the sleeve of “Carried To Dust” looks like it’s been created by Victor Gastelum, the artist who did their earliest records. I wonder if this retrenchment is in any way grudging, as if returning to a clichéd notion of Calexico is a kind of admission of failure? It doesn’t sound it, happily. Burns and John Convertino are, of course, far too artful and respectful to make their records into some kind of aural Mexican theme park (for that, can I direct you to Brian Wilson’s excruciating “Mexican Girl” on the forthcoming “That Lucky Old Sun”?), and “Carried To Dust” is, perhaps, a subtler appropriation of those themes, techniques and textures than, say, “Feast Of Wire”. It’s not as good a record as the magisterial “Feast Of Wire”, either – though Calexico albums can be insidious things, so I’ll reserve absolute judgment for a while yet. “Carried To Dust” purports to be a concept album of sorts, tracking a film writer during the 2007 Hollywood strike as he goes travelling. There is a wonderful moment about a minute into the opening track, “Victor Jara’s Hand”, when Burns delicately picks his way to the chorus and the horns burst into the song. For the next verse, Burns drops out to be replaced by a Spanish singer, Jairo Zavala. Zavala is part of “Carried To Dust”’s weighty cast, which also includes Pieta Brown, Amparo Sanchez from Amparanoia (I have to admit my knowledge of these people is sketchy, to say the least), Doug McCombs from Tortoise and Sam Beam from Iron And Wine, whose reverent whisper gracefully tracks Burns on the exceptional “House Of Valparaiso” (another Chilean reference there). As I write this morning, I’m listening to the album for the first time on headphones, and its depths are beginning to reveal themselves. Joey Burns is a great one for balancing widescreen melodrama with a calm, humane presence; check how elegantly he navigates the string-washed “The News About William”, while Convertino’s imaginative rhythms give the song a further, winning awkwardness. There are charming little pop songs here: the familiar twang of “Writer’s Minor Holiday”, which reminds me of something indistinct from “The Hot Rail”; and “Two Silver Trees” which, as one of my colleagues has gleefully pointed out, has a chorus that’s oddly – and not unhappily – reminiscent of Abba. But again, what’s most striking about “Carried To Dust” is the vivid, textured ambience - especially the slow fade at the close of "Contention City" - and the sense of a creative democracy in action. So “Inspiracion” finds the band’s excellent trumpeter Jacob Valenzuela taking the mic for a duet with Sanchez, while the prickly backing seems like a subtly treated rethink of traditional Mexican music. Even when the odd song seems to slip into something of a generic holding pattern, there’s always detailing to admire: a rattle of percussive keys in the cracks between trumpet and steel on “Hole In Your Hand (Bend In The Road)”; the echo of dub on “Tornado Watch”. Let me know what you think, anyway, when you get a chance to hear it.

There are a few records around the Uncut office at the moment that I think I could responsibly class as disappointing, not least the new Mercury Rev album, which ambitiously finds them trying to reinvent themselves as whimsical cosmic ravers.

Gang of Four and Wire To Headline Festival

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Gang of Four and Wire have been announced as the headliners for Offset Festival. The festival, which takes place over two days and features seven stages of music, will take place in Essex's Hainault Forest on August 30-31. Other bands set to perform include The Maccabees, Young Knives, Metronomy, ...

Gang of Four and Wire have been announced as the headliners for Offset Festival.

The festival, which takes place over two days and features seven stages of music, will take place in Essex’s Hainault Forest on August 30-31.

Other bands set to perform include The Maccabees, Young Knives, Metronomy, Prinzhorn Dance School and Chrome Hoof.

Gang of Four’s last appearance saw founders Jon King and Andy Gill joined on stage by Klaxons‘ drummer Mark Heaney and David Bowie‘s Gail-Ann Dorsey.

The band released a single called ‘Second Life’ in June; their first new material in fifteen years.

Lost Jimi Hendrix Album To Be Released

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A lost album Jimi Hendrix recorded with Stephen Stills has been discovered more than 30 years after it was recorded Stills recently found the recording among a stack of material he taped during the 1970s, and is due to be released by his Crosby, Stills and Nash bandmate Graham Nash. "He has an enormous history of recording," says Nash in an interview with the Las Vegas Sun. "In the '70s, he was a recording fool. He just found a bloody album he made with Hendrix. 'Oh yeah, I forgot that.' We've got to listen to that... I want to listen to every track he ever recorded in case he recorded with Al Jolson." The lost album is one of thirteen projects Nash is currently pursuing including an acoustic show he performed with David Crosby in 1993, boxsets of his solo work dating back to 1964 and a CSN demos album. “When I was putting together a box set for CSN that came out 10 years ago, I found 54 of our demos," said Nash.

A lost album Jimi Hendrix recorded with Stephen Stills has been discovered more than 30 years after it was recorded

Stills recently found the recording among a stack of material he taped during the 1970s, and is due to be released by his Crosby, Stills and Nash bandmate Graham Nash.

“He has an enormous history of recording,” says Nash in an interview with the Las Vegas Sun.

“In the ’70s, he was a recording fool. He just found a bloody album he made with Hendrix. ‘Oh yeah, I forgot that.’ We’ve got to listen to that… I want to listen to every track he ever recorded in case he recorded with Al Jolson.”

The lost album is one of thirteen projects Nash is currently pursuing including an acoustic show he performed with David Crosby in 1993, boxsets of his solo work dating back to 1964 and a CSN demos album.

“When I was putting together a box set for CSN that came out 10 years ago, I found 54 of our demos,” said Nash.

Jack White Pens Ode To Detroit

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Jack White has written a poem, titled 'Courageous Dream's Concern', about his hometown, Detroit. The Raconteurs and White Stripes frontman wrote the verse for the Detroit Free Press to express "my feelings about the city itself, and how strong I believe it to be". White said that his feelings abo...

Jack White has written a poem, titled ‘Courageous Dream’s Concern’, about his hometown, Detroit.

The Raconteurs and White Stripes frontman wrote the verse for the Detroit Free Press to express “my feelings about the city itself, and how strong I believe it to be”.

White said that his feelings about the city had been misrepresented in the past after an interview in which he criticised the Detroit music scene saying it was “super-negative”.

“Those expressions of mine have never been a representation of my feelings about Detroit the city, a town that I have strong feelings about … nor were they expressions about its citizens,” said White.

Introducing the poem, White sets the scene as “The Detroit that is in my heart”.

Read the full poem http://www.freep.com/

Nick Cave Back Catalogue Gets Remixed

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Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds are to release their entire album catalogue digitally re-mastered and remixed in 5.1 surround sound. Their first four albums - From Her To Eternity, The First Born Is Dead, Kicking Against The Pricks and Your Funeral, My Trial - are set to be released at the end of the...

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds are to release their entire album catalogue digitally re-mastered and remixed in 5.1 surround sound.

Their first four albums – From Her To Eternity, The First Born Is Dead, Kicking Against The Pricks and Your Funeral, My Trial – are set to be released at the end of the year.

Each album will also contain the b-sides from the singles, exclusive sleeve notes and a specially commissioned short film made by acclaimed UK artists Iain Forsyth and Jane Pollard.

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds release their new single ‘Midnight Man’ on July 28.

My Morning Jacket begin work on sixth album

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My Morning Jacket revealed they have begun work on their sixth studio album, despite releasing their last album, ‘Evil Urges’ last month. "I'm already writing songs for the new record and stuff," said frontman Jim James speaking to BBC 6music. "The process is weird because whenever we make a r...

My Morning Jacket revealed they have begun work on their sixth studio album, despite releasing their last album, ‘Evil Urges’ last month.

“I’m already writing songs for the new record and stuff,” said frontman Jim James speaking to BBC 6music.

“The process is weird because whenever we make a record, the songs come from one or two years of life that you’ve lived.

“Then by the time you get to make that record you’re in that zone but when it comes out, it’s a year or two later. So, for me personally, I’m working on the next thing.”

The band played on Sunday (July 6) at Hop Farm with Neil Young and Primal Scream and have two live dates this month.

My Morning Jacket play:

Nottingham Rescue Rooms(July 11)

London Forum (15)

Flaming Lips Movie Shows at US Festivals

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The Flaming Lips have revealed plans to take their feature film “Christmas On Mars” on a tour of US festivals. The film, which was written and co-directed by frontman Wayne Coyne who also stars as a Martian in the film, took seven years to complete. The Flaming Lips have also recorded an origi...

The Flaming Lips have revealed plans to take their feature film “Christmas On Mars” on a tour of US festivals.

The film, which was written and co-directed by frontman Wayne Coyne who also stars as a Martian in the film, took seven years to complete.

The Flaming Lips have also recorded an original soundtrack to the film, which will be available on DVD at the end of the year.

The film, which stars fellow F’Lips Steven Drozd and Michael Ivins, was premiered at the Sasquatch festival in Washington state and will run at US rock festivals throughout the summer.

“We’ve played it well into the night maybe six times now,” said Coyne, talking to Billboard.com.

“That group of people that comes in from two or three in the morning, they’re usually the most insane. They’ve taken their acid or their mushrooms, drank three or four Red Bulls, and they’re really in it for the long haul.”

But the film has received mixed reactions from audiences prompting Coyne to explain the film before each showing.

“At first I didn’t know if they felt they needed to be more respectful, like it’s an art movie,” he says.

“So I’ve been doing these introductions, like, ‘cheer, laugh and smoke pot!’ I don’t think people have any idea what the film is. Is this funny? Is this serious? Is this weird? Once people understand it’s all that, I think it’s a great relief.”

The Flaming Lips will play three UK festival dates this summer:

Camp Bestival East Lulworth (July 18 )

London Lovebox Weekender (July 20)

Belfast Belsonic (August 11)

Countdown to Latitude: Mark Thomas

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“If you’re not pissed off,” so says the banner on Mark Thomas’ website, “you’re not paying attention.” You could say, then, that Thomas has been professionally pissed off now for about 20 years. From his early stand-up in the late Eighties through his controversial Channel 4 series, The Mark Thomas Comedy Product, up to his recent emergence as a published author, the self-styled “libertarian anarchist” has always used comedy to highlight serious, weighty issues ranging from human rights abuses to the arms trade. He’s placed a bounty of £4,320 on the head of George Bush, read out Michael Hestletine’s home address on television and holds the Guinness record for the most demonstrations held on one day (20). We can only imagine what he might do at Latitude…

“If you’re not pissed off,” so says the banner on Mark Thomas’ website, “you’re not paying attention.” You could say, then, that Thomas has been professionally pissed off now for about 20 years.

Mudhoney Announce One-off Show

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Mudhoney have announced they will play a special one-off gig to celebrate their 20th anniversary. The band will play a single headline show at London’s Forum on July 31. Mudhoney share their anniversary with the creation of Seattle’s famous grunge label Sub Pop, who they signed to in 1989. Th...

Mudhoney have announced they will play a special one-off gig to celebrate their 20th anniversary.

The band will play a single headline show at London’s Forum on July 31.

Mudhoney share their anniversary with the creation of Seattle’s famous grunge label Sub Pop, who they signed to in 1989.

The band released a new album, The Lucky Ones, earlier this year and have re-released a deluxe, remastered edition of their 1990 classic Superfuzz Bigmuff.

Tickets cost £15 and are available from www.ticketmaster.co.uk.

The Best Of 2008 Thus Far: Results Just In

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Thanks to everyone who’s submitted their lists in response to the Best Records Of 2008 brainstorm from last week. Some excellent albums rising to the surface, and it’s especially nice to see love for No Age, Fleet Foxes and Elbow, three records which narrowly missed my original cut. If you didn’t see this week’s Uncut Newsletter (you can sign up for a regular Monday epistle by following the link on our homepage, incidentally), the editor has joined in the fun by compiling his ten from the past six months – as thwarted as I was, I think, by The Hold Steady falling into July. Here’s Allan’s ten: 1 The Felice Brothers - The Felice Brothers 2 Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes 3 Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago 4 Drive-By Truckers - Brighter Than Creation's Spark 5 Howlin Rain - Magnificent Fiend 6 The War On Drugs - Wagonwheel Blues 7 American Music Club - The Golden Age 8 Silver Jews - Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea 9 Joan As Policewoman - To Survive 10 Ry Cooder - I, Flathead And here’s the Wild Mercury Sound collective Top 14 (every time a record got a mention, I gave it one point, if any electoral scrutineers are trying to unpick my statistical jamming). Comments, as ever, are welcome. And while I think about it, have you ever taken a chair to a gig? I only ask because such transgressive behaviour appears to have riled a few of you who went to Neil Young’s Hop Farm show, judging by the comments to be found over here. Anyway, that chart. I’ve been especially diligent and created links to my blogs on all these. . . 1 Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago (4AD) 2 The Raconteurs - Consolers Of The Lonely (XL) 3= Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! (Mute) 3= Portishead - Third (Island) 5= Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend (XL) 5= Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes (Bella Union) 5= Elbow - The Seldom Seen Kid (Fiction) 5= Drive-By Truckers - Brighter Than Creation's Dark (New West) 9= Wild Beasts - Limbo, Panto (Domino) 9=Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks - Real Emotional Trash (Domino) 9= MGMT - Oracular Spectacular (Columbia) 9= No Age - Nouns (Sub Pop) 9= Howlin Rain - Magnificent Fiend (Birdman) 9= American Music Club - The Golden Age (Cooking Vinyl)

Thanks to everyone who’s submitted their lists in response to the Best Records Of 2008 brainstorm from last week. Some excellent albums rising to the surface, and it’s especially nice to see love for No Age, Fleet Foxes and Elbow, three records which narrowly missed my original cut.

Larry Jon Wilson Releases Album After 28 Years

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Larry Jon Wilson, the country singer who played with Kris Kristofferson and Townes Van Zandt, has released his first album for 28 years. The reclusive singer, who has only made five records in a career spanning over 40 years, was initially reluctant to record an album. He was finally persuaded on t...

Larry Jon Wilson, the country singer who played with Kris Kristofferson and Townes Van Zandt, has released his first album for 28 years.

The reclusive singer, who has only made five records in a career spanning over 40 years, was initially reluctant to record an album. He was finally persuaded on the proviso that he could he could record stripped down versions of the songs.

“I’ll do it, but I got to do it with no sticks and no plugs,” said Wilson.

Each track on his self titled acoustic album, which was released this summer on 1965 Records, was captured in one take during five days on the Florida coast.

Wilson was one of the key players in the 1970s country music “Outlaw” movement alongside Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson and David Allan Coe and was featured in the 1975 documentary “Heartworn Highways”.

He will play four intimate live dates this month including Lounge On The Farm Festival and a one-off performance for Health & Happiness at The Gladstone in London on July 14.

For tickets see www.wegottickets.com

Live dates:

London The Sheep Walk (July 11)

Kent Lounge On The Farm (13)

London The Gladstone (14)

London 12 Bar Club (15)

Bruce Springsteen To Release Live EP

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Bruce Springsteen has announced he plans to release a live EP to raise funds for the late E Street Band keyboardist Danny Federici's cancer charity. 'Magic Tour Highlights' is available to download from July 15. It inludes four tracks and video footage of performances by Rage Against The Machine's ...

Bruce Springsteen has announced he plans to release a live EP to raise funds for the late E Street Band keyboardist Danny Federici‘s cancer charity.

‘Magic Tour Highlights’ is available to download from July 15. It inludes four tracks and video footage of performances by Rage Against The Machine‘s Tom Morello and Alejandro Escovedo.

One of the tracks, ‘4th Of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)’, features Danny Federici playing with the E Street Band for the last time. He died of melanoma in April this year.

All net profits from sales of the EP will go to the Danny Federici Melanoma Fund, as artists, record labels and iTunes store have agreed to waive their fees.

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band are midway through their tour of Europe and the US. They play tonight in Oslo (July 8) before travelling to Spain and finishing in Milwaukee on August 30. See www.brucespringsteen.net for more information.

The EP tracklisting is:

‘Always A Friend’ (with Alejandro Escovedo live in Houston, April 14, 2008)

‘The Ghost of Tom Joad’ (with Tom Morello live in Anaheim, April 7, 2008)

‘Turn Turn Turn’ (with Roger McGuinn live in Orlando, April 23, 2008)

‘4th Of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)’ (Danny Federici’s final performance

with the E Street Band live in Indianapolis, March 20, 2008)

Scott Walker Announces Live Shows

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Legendary recluse Scott Walker has announced a number of live performances of songs from his last two albums. But though the singer will produce and engineer shows at London's Barbican he will not be making an appearance on stage. The concerts, running from November 13-15, will focus on his more recent avant garde works Tilt and The Drift. 'Drifting And Tilting: The Songs Of Scott Walker' will be performed by his band, an orchestra and various guest vocalists. For more information and to book tickets see www.barbican.org.uk.

Legendary recluse Scott Walker has announced a number of live performances of songs from his last two albums.

But though the singer will produce and engineer shows at London’s Barbican he will not be making an appearance on stage.

The concerts, running from November 13-15, will focus on his more recent avant garde works Tilt and The Drift.

‘Drifting And Tilting: The Songs Of Scott Walker’ will be performed by his band, an orchestra and various guest vocalists.

For more information and to book tickets see www.barbican.org.uk.

Suarasama: “Fajar Di Atas Awan”

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It begins with a flutter of guitar, a dusting of cymbals. Then a female, faintly ethereal vocal arrives, accompanied by bells. At first, it sounds like she might be distant kin to the acid folk scene which still percolates away in the US; there’s a very vague resemblance to Meg Baird and Espers, perhaps. But then again, she’s not singing in English, and there’s something discreetly exotic about the song, “Dawn Over The Clouds”. That’s the English translation of the song’s title, I should say. Actually, it – and its parent album – are called “Fajar Di Atas Awan” – and they are the work of a bunch of ethnomusicologists from Sumatra called Suarasama. Since it turned up about a week ago, I’ve been obsessing over “Fajar Di Atas Awan”, and also wondering how I would describe this incredible, tranquil, deep record on Wild Mercury Sound. Given my dilettante-ish knowledge of global music, I can’t pretend to have much experience of the sounds of Indonesia, let alone the specific ones of Sumatra. I could say, in a generally rather crude way, that the beauty of this record is that it has a mystique, a spiritual imperative, that aligns it to other ‘world music’ (rotten patronising phrase, but you know what I mean) which can be appreciated by fans of psychedelia; I’m thinking of Tinariwen here, for a start. According to the sleevenotes, “Irwansyah Harahap is the main composer in the group. In his compositions he has explored various different musical concepts and aesthetics in world music, such as African, Middle Eastern, Indian, Sufi Pakistani, Eastern European, Southeast Asian, as well as North Sumatran (the Bataks and Malay) traditional music.” Again, I’m struggling to parse this. I can spot a little of the Sufi Pakistani tradition in there – if that refers to qawwali singers like Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. But the acoustic guitar leads, the graceful melodies and so on, seem incredibly close to Western folk tradition, at times, though it’s impossible to tell whether that’s by accident or design. But in general, the whole thing blends so harmoniously that trying to separate the trace elements seems not only unnecessary, but even a little vulgar. The Drag City press release references Sandy Bull (who we’ve been listening to a lot of late), John Fahey and the collaborations of Ravi Shankar and Andre Previn, which all make certain sense: there’s that same elegant elision of Eastern and Western scales and techniques, providing a really enveloping, devotional music. I’m reminded, too, of some of the Anatolian psych collected on the Turkish edition of the “Love, Peace And Poetry” compilation series; artists who delicately adjust Eastern melodic and rhythmic strategies, rather than the appropriation of them that we’re more used to. The press release also references Ghost and Six Organs Of Admittance, and I can definitely see affinities with the latter. It should be noted, though, that “Fajar Di Atas Awan” was first released ten years ago, and that this reissue is coming out on the same label as Six Organs. Knowing Ben Chasny’s voracious appetite for music, it’s certainly plausible that Suarasama might have been a potent, semi-secret influence on the whole generation of fingerpickers, underground mystics and so on in the free folk/psych world. But I can’t recommend this record enough. I’ve just taken a cursory trip round the web to try and find anywhere where you can hear Suarasama, with no joy. But if you do manage to track it down (the reissue isn’t due ‘til August), let me know what you think, as ever.

It begins with a flutter of guitar, a dusting of cymbals. Then a female, faintly ethereal vocal arrives, accompanied by bells. At first, it sounds like she might be distant kin to the acid folk scene which still percolates away in the US; there’s a very vague resemblance to Meg Baird and Espers, perhaps. But then again, she’s not singing in English, and there’s something discreetly exotic about the song, “Dawn Over The Clouds”.

The Hold Steady – Read The Uncut Review!

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Uncut.co.uk publishes a weekly selection of music reviews; including new, reissued and compilation albums. Find out about the best here, by clicking on the album titles below. All of our reviews feature a 'submit your own review' function - we would love to hear about what you've heard lately. The...

Uncut.co.uk publishes a weekly selection of music reviews; including new, reissued and compilation albums. Find out about the best here, by clicking on the album titles below.

All of our reviews feature a ‘submit your own review’ function – we would love to hear about what you’ve heard lately.

These albums are all set for release this week (July 07):

THE HOLD STEADY – STAY POSITIVE – 5* Elliptical, euphoric and “staggeringly good” says Allan Jones, plus a Q&A with Craig Finn

MY BLOODY VALENTINE REISSUES SPECIAL- ISN’T ANYTHING/LOVELESS/THE CORAL SEA – 4/5/4* You wait 17-years…then three Kevin Shields album turn up at once

MICAH P HINSON AND THE RED EMPIRE ORCHESTRA

– 4* Select fourth outing from dolorous US twentysomething

ALBERT HAMMOND JR – ¿CóMO TE LLAMA? – 3* Sturdy second album from the most hard-working man in the Strokes

Plus here are some of UNCUT’s recommended new releases from the past few weeks – check out these albums if you haven’t already:

BECK – MODERN GUILT – 4* New label, old sound: Danger Mouse helms dreamy psych-pop on his 10th album

TRICKY – KNOWLE WEST BOY – 4* Nostalgic and accessible return to the Bristol council estate where he grew up

ELTON JOHN – ELTON JOHN/TUMBLEWEED CONNECTION

– 4*/5* Elton and Bernie’s double shot heard ‘round the world

RY COODER – I, FLATHEAD – 4* Final installment of Cooder’s “trilogy”, time-travelling back to ‘40s/’50s California. Complete with 53-page novella!

DAVID BOWIE – LIVE IN SANTA MONICA ‘72 – 4* Legendary bootleg finally gets an official release, remastered by the Dame himself

DIRTY PRETTY THINGS – ROMANCE AT SHORT NOTICE – 3* Full tilt second album from ex-Libertine

LITTLE FEAT AND FRIENDS – JOIN THE BAND – 3* All-star jam with the remaining Feat

THE WATSON TWINS – FIRE SONGS – 4* Winning Watsons exploit genetic advantage

SIGUR RÓS – WORKOUT HOLIDAY – 3* New tricks/old fallbacks from divine shoegazers

WHITE DENIM – WORKOUT HOLIDAY – 4* Psych dub garage? Texan mob go wild and weird

For more reviews from the 3000+ UNCUT archive – check out: www.www.uncut.co.uk/music/reviews.

The Hold Steady – Stay Positive

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If it was their intention with this record to, among other things, leave the listener speechless, they’ve done a good job. I’ve been listening to it virtually non-stop for the last few weeks, and I’m still trying to find the right words to describe Stay Positive, the astonishing fourth album by The Hold Steady – the vaulting ambition of which combines aspects of the dramatic euphoria and anxious nostalgia of Who’s Next and Quadrophenia and the maggoty grandeur of Lou Reed’s Berlin, alongside the scalding musical dynamics of The Attractions and familiar loud echoes of the E Street Band, especially in the hurtling, incident-packed velocity of most tracks, which, overall, are bigger, more soaringly anthemic than ever, Tad Kubler’s monster guitar parts everywhere to the fore, the sound of something waiting, somewhat impatiently, to fill stadiums. I was initially, you know, nonplussed by Craig Finn’s description of Stay Positive as an album about growing old gracefully and the apparently awkward circumstance of being in a band in your late thirties, written largely on the road. This made it sound like it might be ruminative, leaning towards morose introspection, interested only in itself, emotionally myopic. This would have been a perhaps not entirely welcome departure from the kind of songs – lurid, unflinching snapshots of drug-addled teenage losers, usually featuring key characters Holly, Gideon and Charlemagne – with which, over the course of The Hold Steady’s first three albums, Finn had established himself as a laureate of the dark American night and the people who move through it, restless, ruined and usually lost. What Craig said about Stay Positive made more sense, however, when I watched the John Cassavetes film, Opening Night, cited by him as an influence. The movie stars Gina Rowlands as an actress, much idolised by her fans, terrified by the fading of her beauty, lamenting the passing of her youth and bygone talent, and the time in which it flourished (“There’s no humour anymore and all the glamour’s dead,” she complains, a line that works it way into a song here about disillusioned sex called “Navy Sheets”). She’s further distressed by the death of a besotted fan – who’s clearly mistaken the actress for the roles she’s famously played – to which she’s an accidental witness, and is subsequently haunted by, increasing her sense of crisis. Stay Positive, similarly, is preoccupied with growing old – or, at least, older - and how we cope with the unravelling of what our lives may at one moment have promised us, ideals turning to dust and disenchantment, all that noisy youthful vim gone, eventually, to nothing. The album, also like the Cassavetes film, is overshadowed by death – here the murders of two boys, crucified one summer, elliptically recalled, the killings revisited on several songs, from shifting perspectives in a prismatic narrative reminiscent of some top-notch TV crime drama like The Wire, full of concealed meanings and uncertain significance, whatever’s happening at any given point revealed fragmentally. The album opens with the rhapsodic “Constructive Summer”, which sounds like Husker Du taking The Who’s “Baba O’Reilly” into ecstatic overdrive and appropriately placing the action that follows in the “teenage wasteland” of Pete Townshend’s troubled reverie. The song roaringly describes the last summer spent together by a group of high school friends – among them, you’re likely to think, but unnamed, Holly, Gideon and Charlemagne - in some glum mid-western mill town. There, beginning to drift after serial disappointments to the disenchanted edge of things, their circumscribed lives are illuminated, made incandescent, by rock’n’roll – “Raise a toast to St Joe Strummer/I think he may have been our only decent teacher” – which is all they have to truly believe in, a rowdy salvation. Even at its most rousing, however, there’s an anticipation here of grim things to come, regret at what they will soon leave behind, soon to be forgotten. “Growing older,” Finn sings with sad desperation over a wild tumult of guitars and keyboards, “makes it harder to remember.” A brilliant example of the kind of music – powerful and absolute – that it describes, “Constructive Summer” acts as a kind of preface, overture or, better still, the pre-credit sequence of a movie you know you aren’t going to be able to take your eyes off until the final credits fade and even then won’t be able to get out of your head for a long time after. We are then plunged headlong into an unfolding nightmare. The insanely catchy, horn-driven “Sequestered In Memphis”, with keyboard flourishes reminiscent of “Oliver’s Army” or “King Horse”, is a song about a police interrogation - someone, we don’t know who, hauled in by the cops for questioning about something’s that’s happened, we’re not told what, the chorus his version of picking up a girl and the sex that followed, a harshly descriptive but inconclusive narrative that leaves us wondering what’s actually happened and where this might all be leading. “One For The Cutters”, nasty and noir-ish, underpinned by spectral harpsichord, brings us closer to the singular event, the murders of the two boys mentioned earlier, in which the song’s central character, a thrill-seeking college girl – Holly, perhaps - is an aroused and fascinated accomplice. Finn returns repeatedly to the murders – most dramatically on the album’s centre piece, the hallucinatory “Both Crosses”, Holly’s dank visions of carnage set to an unsettling pulmonary beat, quite unlike anything they’ve previously done - in songs that refer not only to each other, but also to songs on previous albums, key lyrics teasingly appropriated from earlier tracks, dropped into Stay Positive’s narrative mosaic like clues to a larger puzzle. And so, Holly’s errant descent into drugs, careless sex and life on the groupie fringes of rock’n’roll, is recalled from the points of view of friends, abusive lovers and, on the epic country-tinged ballad, “Lord, I’m Discouraged”, a helplessly smitten witness to her self-destruction, whose final imploration is among the saddest things I’ve ever heard in a song, Kubler’s heroic guitar here a torrent of undiminished pain. In a parallel text, the anonymous narrator of “Constructive Summer” – who could also be the boy in “Party Pit”, who quits the local scene to form a band and may be a version of Finn himself – struggles in the face of largely sordid realities and festering self-doubt, vividly described on flat-out carnal rockers like “Navy Sheets”, “Yeah Sapphire” and “Magazines”, to keep alive his youthful belief in rock music as something transcendent, something that’s given loudest voice on the brilliant title track, lyrically a fierce mix of regret and rekindled promise. The worlds of these two characters finally coalesce on the album’s closing couple of tracks – the jerkily elegiac “Joke About Jamaica”, with its running references to Led Zeppelin songs, a grandiloquent grand piano bridge redolent of Costello’s “Clubland” and Tad’s most outrageous guitar solo, and the stirring closer, “Slapped Actress”, which exalts the communal relationship between performer and audience on those massive nights when the music is more than entertainment, and playing it not so much a job as a vocation, resplendent and unforgettable. Much, you’d have to say, like Stay Positive itself. Staggeringly good. ALLAN JONES CRAIG FINN Q&A How soon after Boys And Girls In America did you start mapping out the songs for Stay Positive? When we started this band, we wanted to be pretty aggressive as far as releasing albums went. So we’ve done four records in five years. To maintain that momentum, we realised around this time last year, when we over doing the festivals, Glastonbury and Latitude, whenever that was, that we’d have to get some work done on a new album before we got home. Anyway in that run of dates, we started putting rough demos together in our hotel rooms. And we got home in September or October and fleshed some of the songs out and took them on tour, played about eight of them on a tour with Art Brut that happened in November. And after that tour, we went in the studio and really made the final push. We ended up with 19 songs, which as you know became 11 for the record. Did you have a notion from the start what the album would be about? Yeah. I thought this record should maybe look at the characters I’d been writing about on the previous three albums as they got a bit older, more adult with more adult problems. One of the things the album is about is the idea of ageing gracefully. I’m 36 years old right now and making a living off rock’n’roll - and that made me think a lot about how people grow old and how at a certain age people have goals like maybe parenthood or home ownership or things like that. But you also want to stay true to some of the ideals you had when you were young. So the record jumped off a lot from those thoughts – it’s about keeping going, perseverance, how to stay true to the ideals and ideas you had when you were younger. Would it be true to say you start from a preconceived idea for an album and write songs to fit the concept? Yeah. That is true. However there is some part of it that strangely reveals itself to you as you go along – maybe if you’ve written eight songs, the next four might teach you a little bit about the first eight The songs on the album aren’t just linked to each other but flash back to older songs from previous albums – “Stay Positive”, for instance, refers back to “Hornets! Hornets!” on Separation Sunday Yeah. That’s something I’ve always done. I think of that almost as a treat to the heavy listener. It’s something that’s always in my mind, this over-arching idea of how I want to connect things. Did you have a plan from the beginning, then, that the records you made would always be somehow linked, thematically or through the characters in the songs? I think so, although I have to admit that when we first started we didn’t really think too much about a second record. But I think if you’d asked me the same question at the time, I would have said yes, although I wouldn’t have been sure that the ideas I had would ever actually be put in practise, whether we’d have a chance to do what I had in mind. Listening to the new album back to back with the first three, it’s like watching a box set of The Wire or something - the narrative interconnections, the recurrence of key characters, the way scenes flashback and overlap… That’s certainly the intention and I appreciate hearing that. The idea is hopefully that someone on their 50th listen will gets something they hadn’t caught before. John Cassavetes’ Opening Night seems to have made quite an impression on you. “Slapped Actress” specifically references the movie, but the film’s themes seem to inform other aspects of Stay Positive – notions of growing old, art v entertainment, the authenticity of performance, the conflict between public persona and private person... I’m not someone who’s emotionally moved by much film, but I got this Cassavetes box set and I was surprised by the impact his films had on me. With Opening Night, I was very drawn to this idea of the ageing actress. I mean, if you’re trading on your beauty, the ageing process is really your enemy. And Opening Night has that as a really tragic thing, her simply getting older. I was also really taken by the scene where Cassavetes wants to slap Gena Rowlands, and he says, ‘If I don’t really slap you, it won’t look real for the performance.’ And she says ‘It’s a play, why would you have to actually slap me, that’s the whole point.’ That kinda connected with the way I think people are preoccupied with my relationship with the characters I write about. I’ve always said no one really cares whether Quentin Tarantino kills people or does karate but for a songwriter there’s this question of a perceived honesty, that your songs are the story of your life. Your familiar protagonists, Holly, Gideon and Charlemagne aren’t mentioned by name on the album. Why the anonymity? They are not. Except on a track that will be on the vinyl version, ‘Ask Her For Aderall’. We left it off the CD because it just didn’t fit where we wanted it to. Every time you make a record, you have those heartbreaking decisions to make. The fans really liked it when we played it live, so I think we’ve probably surprised a lot of people by leaving it off. But people will be able to get their hands on it. I don’t name them on the other songs because I wanted to make the waters a little murkier. The characters on Stay Positive go through a lot of grim times, but what continually pulls them through is rock’n’roll. Well, my heroes are people like Joe Strummer and Bruce Springsteen. People who make you feel anything’s possible, that rock music, for instance, can be real big and important. You can’t put words on what it’s like to see Springsteen in concert – it’s so huge, so big. Do I believe in the redemptive power of rock’n’roll? Absolutely. At its peak, played with the best intentions, it can be transcendent.

If it was their intention with this record to, among other things, leave the listener speechless, they’ve done a good job.

I’ve been listening to it virtually non-stop for the last few weeks, and I’m still trying to find the right words to describe Stay Positive, the astonishing fourth album by The Hold Steady – the vaulting ambition of which combines aspects of the dramatic euphoria and anxious nostalgia of Who’s Next and Quadrophenia and the maggoty grandeur of Lou Reed’s Berlin, alongside the scalding musical dynamics of The Attractions and familiar loud echoes of the E Street Band, especially in the hurtling, incident-packed velocity of most tracks, which, overall, are bigger, more soaringly anthemic than ever, Tad Kubler’s monster guitar parts everywhere to the fore, the sound of something waiting, somewhat impatiently, to fill stadiums.

I was initially, you know, nonplussed by Craig Finn’s description of Stay Positive as an album about growing old gracefully and the apparently awkward circumstance of being in a band in your late thirties, written largely on the road.

This made it sound like it might be ruminative, leaning towards morose introspection, interested only in itself, emotionally myopic.

This would have been a perhaps not entirely welcome departure from the kind of songs – lurid, unflinching snapshots of drug-addled teenage losers, usually featuring key characters Holly, Gideon and Charlemagne – with which, over the course of The Hold Steady’s first three albums, Finn had established himself as a laureate of the dark American night and the people who move through it, restless, ruined and usually lost.

What Craig said about Stay Positive made more sense, however, when I watched the John Cassavetes film, Opening Night, cited by him as an influence. The movie stars Gina Rowlands as an actress, much idolised by her fans, terrified by the fading of her beauty, lamenting the passing of her youth and bygone talent, and the time in which it flourished (“There’s no humour anymore and all the glamour’s dead,” she complains, a line that works it way into a song here about disillusioned sex called “Navy Sheets”). She’s further distressed by the death of a besotted fan – who’s clearly mistaken the actress for the roles she’s famously played – to which she’s an accidental witness, and is subsequently haunted by, increasing her sense of crisis.

Stay Positive, similarly, is preoccupied with growing old – or, at least, older – and how we cope with the unravelling of what our lives may at one moment have promised us, ideals turning to dust and disenchantment, all that noisy youthful vim gone, eventually, to nothing.

The album, also like the Cassavetes film, is overshadowed by death – here the murders of two boys, crucified one summer, elliptically recalled, the killings revisited on several songs, from shifting perspectives in a prismatic narrative reminiscent of some top-notch TV crime drama like The Wire, full of concealed meanings and uncertain significance, whatever’s happening at any given point revealed fragmentally.

The album opens with the rhapsodic “Constructive Summer”, which sounds like Husker Du taking The Who’s “Baba O’Reilly” into ecstatic overdrive and appropriately placing the action that follows in the “teenage wasteland” of Pete Townshend’s troubled reverie.

The song roaringly describes the last summer spent together by a group of high school friends – among them, you’re likely to think, but unnamed, Holly, Gideon and Charlemagne – in some glum mid-western mill town. There, beginning to drift after serial disappointments to the disenchanted edge of things, their circumscribed lives are illuminated, made incandescent, by rock’n’roll – “Raise a toast to St Joe Strummer/I think he may have been our only decent teacher” – which is all they have to truly believe in, a rowdy salvation.

Even at its most rousing, however, there’s an anticipation here of grim things to come, regret at what they will soon leave behind, soon to be forgotten.

“Growing older,” Finn sings with sad desperation over a wild tumult of guitars and keyboards, “makes it harder to remember.”

A brilliant example of the kind of music – powerful and absolute – that it describes, “Constructive Summer” acts as a kind of preface, overture or, better still, the pre-credit sequence of a movie you know you aren’t going to be able to take your eyes off until the final credits fade and even then won’t be able to get out of your head for a long time after.

We are then plunged headlong into an unfolding nightmare. The insanely catchy, horn-driven “Sequestered In Memphis”, with keyboard flourishes reminiscent of “Oliver’s Army” or “King Horse”, is a song about a police interrogation – someone, we don’t know who, hauled in by the cops for questioning about something’s that’s happened, we’re not told what, the chorus his version of picking up a girl and the sex that followed, a harshly descriptive but inconclusive narrative that leaves us

wondering what’s actually happened and where this might all be leading.

“One For The Cutters”, nasty and noir-ish, underpinned by spectral harpsichord, brings us closer to the singular event, the murders of the two boys mentioned earlier, in which the song’s central character, a thrill-seeking college girl – Holly, perhaps – is an aroused and fascinated accomplice.

Finn returns repeatedly to the murders – most dramatically on the album’s centre piece, the hallucinatory “Both Crosses”, Holly’s dank visions of carnage set to an unsettling pulmonary beat, quite unlike anything they’ve previously done – in songs that refer not only to each other, but also to songs on previous albums, key lyrics teasingly appropriated from earlier tracks, dropped into Stay Positive’s narrative mosaic like clues to a larger puzzle.

And so, Holly’s errant descent into drugs, careless sex and life on the groupie fringes of rock’n’roll, is recalled from the points of view of friends, abusive lovers and, on the epic country-tinged ballad, “Lord, I’m Discouraged”, a helplessly smitten witness to her self-destruction, whose final imploration is among the saddest things I’ve ever heard in a song, Kubler’s heroic guitar here a torrent of undiminished pain.

In a parallel text, the anonymous narrator of “Constructive Summer” – who could also be the boy in “Party Pit”, who quits the local scene to form a band and may be a version of Finn himself – struggles in the face of largely sordid realities and festering self-doubt, vividly described on flat-out carnal rockers like “Navy Sheets”, “Yeah Sapphire” and “Magazines”, to keep alive his youthful belief in rock music as something transcendent, something that’s given loudest voice on the brilliant title track, lyrically a fierce mix of regret and rekindled promise.

The worlds of these two characters finally coalesce on the album’s closing couple of tracks – the jerkily elegiac “Joke About Jamaica”, with its running references to Led Zeppelin songs, a grandiloquent grand piano bridge redolent of Costello’s “Clubland” and Tad’s most outrageous guitar solo, and the stirring closer, “Slapped Actress”, which exalts the communal relationship between performer and audience on those massive nights when the music is more than entertainment, and playing it not so much a job as a vocation, resplendent and unforgettable. Much, you’d have to say, like Stay Positive itself. Staggeringly good.

ALLAN JONES

CRAIG FINN Q&A

How soon after Boys And Girls In America did you start mapping out the songs for Stay Positive?

When we started this band, we wanted to be pretty aggressive as far as releasing albums went. So we’ve done four records in five years. To maintain that momentum, we realised around this time last year, when we over doing the festivals, Glastonbury and Latitude, whenever that was, that we’d have to get some work done on a new album before we got home. Anyway in that run of dates, we started putting rough demos together in our hotel rooms. And we got home in September or October and fleshed some of the songs out and took them on tour, played about eight of them on a tour with Art Brut that happened in November. And after that tour, we went in the studio and really made the final push. We ended up with 19 songs, which as you know became 11 for the record.

Did you have a notion from the start what the album would be about?

Yeah. I thought this record should maybe look at the characters I’d been writing about on the previous three albums as they got a bit older, more adult with more adult problems. One of the things the album is about is the idea of ageing gracefully. I’m 36 years old right now and making a living off rock’n’roll – and that made me think a lot about how people grow old and how at a certain age people have goals like maybe parenthood or home ownership or things like that. But you also want to stay true to some of the ideals you had when you were young. So the record jumped off a lot from those thoughts – it’s about keeping going, perseverance, how to stay true to the ideals and ideas you had when you were younger.

Would it be true to say you start from a preconceived idea for an album and write songs to fit the concept?

Yeah. That is true. However there is some part of it that strangely reveals itself to you as you go along – maybe if you’ve written eight songs, the next four might teach you a little bit about the first eight

The songs on the album aren’t just linked to each other but flash back to older songs from previous albums – “Stay Positive”, for instance, refers back to “Hornets! Hornets!” on Separation Sunday

Yeah. That’s something I’ve always done. I think of that almost as a treat to the heavy listener. It’s something that’s always in my mind, this over-arching idea of how I want to connect things.

Did you have a plan from the beginning, then, that the records you made would always be somehow linked, thematically or through the characters in the songs?

I think so, although I have to admit that when we first started we didn’t really think too much about a second record. But I think if you’d asked me the same question at the time, I would have said yes, although I wouldn’t have been sure that the ideas I had would ever actually be put in practise, whether we’d have a chance to do what I had in mind.

Listening to the new album back to back with the first three, it’s like watching a box set of The Wire or something – the narrative interconnections, the recurrence of key characters, the way scenes flashback and overlap…

That’s certainly the intention and I appreciate hearing that. The idea is hopefully that someone on their 50th listen will gets something they hadn’t caught before.

John Cassavetes’ Opening Night seems to have made quite an impression on you. “Slapped Actress” specifically references the movie, but the film’s themes seem to inform other aspects of Stay Positive – notions of growing old, art v entertainment, the authenticity of performance, the conflict between public persona and private person…

I’m not someone who’s emotionally moved by much film, but I got this Cassavetes box set and I was surprised by the impact his films had on me. With Opening Night, I was very drawn to this idea of the ageing actress. I mean, if you’re trading on your beauty, the ageing process is really your enemy. And Opening Night has that as a really tragic thing, her simply getting older.

I was also really taken by the scene where Cassavetes wants to slap Gena Rowlands, and he says, ‘If I don’t really slap you, it won’t look real for the performance.’ And she says ‘It’s a play, why would you have to actually slap me, that’s the whole point.’ That kinda connected with the way I think people are preoccupied with my relationship with the characters I write about. I’ve always said no one really cares whether Quentin Tarantino kills people or does karate but for a songwriter there’s this question of a perceived honesty, that your songs are the story of your life.

Your familiar protagonists, Holly, Gideon and Charlemagne aren’t mentioned by name on the album. Why the anonymity?

They are not. Except on a track that will be on the vinyl version, ‘Ask Her For Aderall’. We left it off the CD because it just didn’t fit where we wanted it to. Every time you make a record, you have those heartbreaking decisions to make. The fans really liked it when we played it live, so I think we’ve probably surprised a lot of people by leaving it off. But people will be able to get their hands on it. I don’t name them on the other songs because I wanted to make the waters a little murkier.

The characters on Stay Positive go through a lot of grim times, but what continually pulls them through is rock’n’roll.

Well, my heroes are people like Joe Strummer and Bruce Springsteen. People who make you feel anything’s possible, that rock music, for instance, can be real big and important. You can’t put words on what it’s like to see Springsteen in concert – it’s so huge, so big. Do I believe in the redemptive power of rock’n’roll? Absolutely. At its peak, played with the best intentions, it can be transcendent.

My Bloody Valentine Reissues Special- Isn’t Anything/Loveless/The Coral Sea

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By the end of 1991 the possibilities for British music seemed boundless. Released within six months, by groups commonly dismissed as idlers, chancers or neurotically perfectionist procrastinators, Massive Attack's Blue Lines, Primal Scream's Screamadelica and My Bloody Valentine's Loveless suddenly seemed abundant proof of an unlikely renaissance. 17 years later you might wonder where exactly it all went wrong. Nevertheless, all three groups, by now venerable institutions, coincidentally return this summer: Massive to curate Meltdown, the Scream with another album of midlife krautrock - but all anyone seems to be talking about is the return of My Bloody Valentine. Is this all just a lesson in the artful cultivation of mystique? Many 30/40somethings seem keen to stoke the myth of Shields as their generation's Brian Wilson, a fearless sonic adventurer who pushed too far, too soon and burnt out. But by many accounts – including Shields himself, who blamed “mental illness” for the long absence, but didn't specify whose – the chief casualties of My Bloody Valentine's creative block were the prematurely grey, psychologically shattered studio hands and label staff who had to deal with their cosmic intransigence. And Shields might add that he never really went away, just majorly lost the creative plot for a decade or so, opting to muddle along as a remixer, producer and occasional hired musician rather than release some half-hearted contractual obligation into a world already full of them. So maybe it really is all about the music, and a humble sense of quality control. Ahead of the band's reformation this summer, newly remastered editions of their two albums proper provides a fresh opportunity to work out just why, of all the bands to shamble, jangle and swoon their way through the tail of the 80s and into the 90s, MBV have proved the most original, enduring and revered. The remasters are due to be released with extensive sleevenotes from Shields detailing the practical rationale, but, in typical style, they have yet to arrive. So you'll have to imagine the relish he felt refining and redefining recordings that prompted early listeners to question whether their vinyl was warped or their record player drunk. Such is his delight in the task, he has actually produced two versions of Loveless – one from a combination of DAT and analogue, and one solely from the original analogue tapes. I can only take this as Kevin's invitation to play both discs simultaneously, ideally running microsonically in and out of sync. If you also set up the vinyl edition for some genuinely 3D phasing, you could doubtless provoke a minor seismic disturbance, a rift in the soniferous aether, or at the very least, a really colourful migraine. You'll have to wait for Shields own take for the precise details, but what's obvious to even the cloth-eared is that both albums sound uncannily fresh: the audio equivalent of some old master – in this case a de Kooning or Pollock – restored to the vivid, vibrant initial imagining. On the analogue edition of Loveless, particularly, it feels like you can pick out the “brushstrokes” - individual drones and strums - within what seemed a fine mist of feedback. Listened to side by side, you can also hear the huge strides the band made between records. The single “You Made Me Realise” in the summer of 1988 was the first from-the-blue thunderbolt to suggest that something was up with a group previously dismissed as sour goths and lazy janglers. But Isn't Anything, release later that year, exceeded all expectations. In rock algebra you might deduce that they'd worked out some new equation involving the barbed languor of the Mary Chain, the speedfreak urgency of Sonic Youth, and a dash of the Vaselines' sauce - but none of that accounts for the savagely sensual results. It was as though a lovechild of some 1975 one-night stand between Metal Machine Music and Another Green World had finally come of age. It now seems almost quaint to think of a two-year recording session as an epic gestation (though admittedly it was a tad longer than the five days McGee had hoped for), but in the time between Isn't Anything and Loveless, an entire subculture of imitation and expectation flourished around the band. Trailed by the locked-groove clang and coo of “Soon”, and the “To Here Knows When”, Loveless almost felt like an anti-climax at the time, but is now regularly hailed as the rock record of the decade, an influence to this day, finally reaching the daft heart of the mainstream via the new Coldplay album. After all this time, it certainly still feels like the last real sonic innovation in indie rock, a deconstruction of rock's riffing presence into an intimately immense, roiling colour field – a ne plus ultra of a certain kind of rock as much as Rothko was to a certain kind of painting. Appropriately enough, the Rothko comparison is made by Patti Smith, describing the dense sea through which “the passenger M.” - her friend, photographer Robert Mapplethorpe – passes, starsailing on one last cruise to see the southern cross before his death, in her poetic requiem The Coral Sea. On this double disc set, comprising two shows at the Royal Festival Hall in 2005 and 2006, Shields performs the whole elemental range, with a series of guitars tuned and distorted to sound like church organs, harmoniums, ocean rain, churning waves, buzzing jungles and thunderstorms. It's a stunning performance, drawing fire from Smith's stentorian performance, providing the ballast for the voyage of her Rimbaudian drunken boat. Smith once remarked that Tom Verlaine played guitar “like a thousand bluebirds screaming”, and you wonder what she would dream up for Shields on this form. A squadron of hummingbirds? The charred calm following the firebombing of Dresden? The lovesick shrieks of pterodactyls? A Debussy symphony haunting a steel mill? Whatever your sonic cathedral of choice, on this evidence, if My Bloody Valentine ever do get round to making that difficult third album, we're in for a treat. STEPHEN TROUSSÉ

By the end of 1991 the possibilities for British music seemed boundless. Released within six months, by groups commonly dismissed as idlers, chancers or neurotically perfectionist procrastinators, Massive Attack‘s Blue Lines, Primal Scream‘s Screamadelica and My Bloody Valentine‘s Loveless suddenly seemed abundant proof of an unlikely renaissance. 17 years later you might wonder where exactly it all went wrong. Nevertheless, all three groups, by now venerable institutions, coincidentally return this summer: Massive to curate Meltdown, the Scream with another album of midlife krautrock – but all anyone seems to be talking about is the return of My Bloody Valentine.

Is this all just a lesson in the artful cultivation of mystique? Many 30/40somethings seem keen to stoke the myth of Shields as their generation’s Brian Wilson, a fearless sonic adventurer who pushed too far, too soon and burnt out.

But by many accounts – including Shields himself, who blamed “mental illness” for the long absence, but didn’t specify whose – the chief casualties of My Bloody Valentine’s creative block were the prematurely grey, psychologically shattered studio hands and label staff who had to deal with their cosmic intransigence. And Shields might add that he never really went away, just majorly lost the creative plot for a decade or so, opting to muddle along as a remixer, producer and occasional hired musician rather than release some half-hearted contractual obligation into a world already full of them.

So maybe it really is all about the music, and a humble sense of quality control. Ahead of the band’s reformation this summer, newly remastered editions of their two albums proper provides a fresh opportunity to work out just why, of all the bands to shamble, jangle and swoon their way through the tail of the 80s and into the 90s, MBV have proved the most original, enduring and revered.

The remasters are due to be released with extensive sleevenotes from Shields detailing the practical rationale, but, in typical style, they have yet to arrive. So you’ll have to imagine the relish he felt refining and redefining recordings that prompted early listeners to question whether their vinyl was warped or their record player drunk. Such is his delight in the task, he has actually produced two versions of Loveless – one from a combination of DAT and analogue, and one solely from the original analogue tapes. I can only take this as Kevin’s invitation to play both discs simultaneously, ideally running microsonically in and out of sync. If you also set up the vinyl edition for some genuinely 3D phasing, you could doubtless provoke a minor seismic disturbance, a rift in the soniferous aether, or at the very least, a really colourful migraine.

You’ll have to wait for Shields own take for the precise details, but what’s obvious to even the cloth-eared is that both albums sound uncannily fresh: the audio equivalent of some old master – in this case a de Kooning or Pollock – restored to the vivid, vibrant initial imagining. On the analogue edition of Loveless, particularly, it feels like you can pick out the “brushstrokes” – individual drones and strums – within what seemed a fine mist of feedback.

Listened to side by side, you can also hear the huge strides the band made between records. The single “You Made Me Realise” in the summer of 1988 was the first from-the-blue thunderbolt to suggest that something was up with a group previously dismissed as sour goths and lazy janglers. But Isn’t Anything, release later that year, exceeded all expectations. In rock algebra you might deduce that they’d worked out some new equation involving the barbed languor of the Mary Chain, the speedfreak urgency of Sonic Youth, and a dash of the Vaselines‘ sauce – but none of that accounts for the savagely sensual results. It was as though a lovechild of some 1975 one-night stand between Metal Machine Music and Another Green World had finally come of age.

It now seems almost quaint to think of a two-year recording session as an epic gestation (though admittedly it was a tad longer than the five days McGee had hoped for), but in the time between Isn’t Anything and Loveless, an entire subculture of imitation and expectation flourished around the band.

Trailed by the locked-groove clang and coo of “Soon”, and the “To Here Knows When”, Loveless almost felt like an anti-climax at the time, but is now regularly hailed as the rock record of the decade, an influence to this day, finally reaching the daft heart of the mainstream via the new Coldplay album. After all this time, it certainly still feels like the last real sonic innovation in indie rock, a deconstruction of rock’s riffing presence into an intimately immense, roiling colour field – a ne plus ultra of a certain kind of rock as much as Rothko was to a certain kind of painting.

Appropriately enough, the Rothko comparison is made by Patti Smith, describing the dense sea through which “the passenger M.” – her friend, photographer Robert Mapplethorpe – passes, starsailing on one last cruise to see the southern cross before his death, in her poetic requiem The Coral Sea.

On this double disc set, comprising two shows at the Royal Festival Hall in 2005 and 2006, Shields performs the whole elemental range, with a series of guitars tuned and distorted to sound like church organs, harmoniums, ocean rain, churning waves, buzzing jungles and thunderstorms. It’s a stunning performance, drawing fire from Smith’s stentorian performance, providing the ballast for the voyage of her Rimbaudian drunken boat.

Smith once remarked that Tom Verlaine played guitar “like a thousand bluebirds screaming”, and you wonder what she would dream up for Shields on this form. A squadron of hummingbirds? The charred calm following the firebombing of Dresden? The lovesick shrieks of pterodactyls? A Debussy symphony haunting a steel mill? Whatever your sonic cathedral of choice, on this evidence, if My Bloody Valentine ever do get round to making that difficult third album, we’re in for a treat.

STEPHEN TROUSSÉ

Micah P Hinson And The Red Empire Orchestra

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Much has been made of Micah P Hinson’s turbulent life. From teenage drug addiction, jail and homelessness, the Texan already had a reservoir of experience from which to draw the doleful country-folk songs of debut …And The Gospel Of Progress. Four years and two further albums on, press interviews have shown him intent on losing his image as a reformed fuck-up, but astute enough to realise it makes a damn good backstory. With that in mind, it’s tempting to read more into this new record. There appears, for instance, to be a recurring theme of letting go, while simultaneously questing for things he fears unattainable. “Constantly craving something that isn’t mine”, he sings, against the urgent hum of a Hammond organ, on “Tell Me It Ain’t So”. At other times, he’s haunted by thoughts of dying alone and, as on “You Will Find Me”, the idea “that these are dreams that I only dream/ Do I dream alone?”. But the real beauty of this wholly engaging record is the contrast between Hinson’s dry basso profundo and the (almost) euphoric banks of strings that swell behind banjos and acoustic guitars. The chamber music-noir of “I Keep Havin’ These Dreams” sounds like a despondent relative of “Eleanor Rigby”, while “We Won’t Have To Be Lonesome” has the ‘60s sweep of a Spectoresque teen ballad. As does “Sunrise Over The Olympus Mons”, whereby Hinson mutters “Oh love of my life” into the infinite space of a drained shot glass. Imagine Jack Nitzsche producing Silver Jews. Of course, nobody does solitary quite like Micah P either. His own peculiar, twilit world is evoked strongest on “Threw The Stone” and “The Fire Came Up To My Knees”, his bony voice backed by the faintest of guitar figures. Rich in its moods, this could well be Hinson’s best yet. ROB HUGHES

Much has been made of Micah P Hinson’s turbulent life. From teenage drug addiction, jail and homelessness, the Texan already had a reservoir of experience from which to draw the doleful country-folk songs of debut …And The Gospel Of Progress. Four years and two further albums on, press interviews have shown him intent on losing his image as a reformed fuck-up, but astute enough to realise it makes a damn good backstory.

With that in mind, it’s tempting to read more into this new record. There appears, for instance, to be a recurring theme of letting go, while simultaneously questing for things he fears unattainable. “Constantly craving something that isn’t mine”, he sings, against the urgent hum of a Hammond organ, on “Tell Me It Ain’t So”. At other times, he’s haunted by thoughts of dying alone and, as on “You Will Find Me”, the idea “that these are dreams that I only dream/ Do I dream alone?”.

But the real beauty of this wholly engaging record is the contrast between Hinson’s dry basso profundo and the (almost) euphoric banks of strings that swell behind banjos and acoustic guitars. The chamber music-noir of “I Keep Havin’ These Dreams” sounds like a despondent relative of “Eleanor Rigby”, while “We Won’t Have To Be Lonesome” has the ‘60s sweep of a Spectoresque teen ballad.

As does “Sunrise Over The Olympus Mons”, whereby Hinson mutters “Oh love of my life” into the infinite space of a drained shot glass. Imagine Jack Nitzsche producing Silver Jews.

Of course, nobody does solitary quite like Micah P either. His own peculiar, twilit world is evoked strongest on “Threw The Stone” and “The Fire Came Up To My Knees”, his bony voice backed by the faintest of guitar figures. Rich in its moods, this could well be Hinson’s best yet.

ROB HUGHES