Tuesday, 8 December 2020

50@50, Part Three: 1990-1999

Side One (30:09)
21) Loaded (Andrew Weatherall Mix): Primal Scream (1990)
22) 101 (Sonic Shuffle) (Remix By Andrew Weatherall & Hugo Nicholson): Finitribe (1991)
23) Fallen (Nancy & Lee Mix By Andrew Weatherall & One Dove): One Dove (1992)
24) What Godzilla Said To God When His Name Wasn't Found In The Book Of Life (Home Demo): American Music Club (1993)
25) Becoming More Like God (Radio Edit): Jah Wobble's Invaders Of The Heart ft. Anneli Drecker (1994)

Side Two (25:11)
26) Planet Telex (Album Version): Radiohead (1995)
27) Les Yper-Sound (Album Version): Stereolab (1996)
28) Dry The Rain (Single Version): The Beta Band (1997)
29) Feelings: Leila ft. Donna Paul (1998)
30) Les Nuits (Album Version): Nightmares On Wax (1999)


This could have been a shorter Side One if I'd included the radio edits of Primal Scream and Finitribe, but it would have been a disservice to both tracks so in true K-Tel tradition, I went for the full half hour side of vinyl for this one, and be damned with the quality. I first heard Loaded on The Chart Show, but the full 12" version was like something transmitted from a parallel universe. And so began my lifelong love affair with the genius that is Andrew Weatherall. Finitribe had previously been an industrial dance act, but 101 took them to a whole new level and again Weatherall provided the extra push over the cliff, not quite chucking in the kitchen sink but slinging a clacking computer printer into the mix. As if that wasn't enough, he enabled Glasgow's One Dove to shine brightly although sadly all too briefly. American Music Club had some major label interest in the early-mid 1990s and I was lucky enough to see them live in concert around this time,  but one of my favourite songs (and song titles) is a scrappy home demo from their Mercury album. Jah Wobble is Jah Wobble. 'Nuff said. The Bends is my favourite Radiohead album and Emperor Tomato Ketchup is my favourite Stereolab album, who were also awesome live in concert. My friend Stu introduced me to The Beta Band via The Patty Patty Sound EP, but it was a defining moment to hear John Cusack drop this song in a pivotal moment in the film version of High Fidelity. Likewise, listening to Leila's Like Weather album in Stu's London bedsit in the wee hours after a night on the town was a defining moment. It was another friend, Dave (long departed, never forgotten), who educated me in all things Nightmares On Wax, including this pre-millenium gem. Our mutual love of electronica and dance music shimmied us into the 21st century, seeking newer and weirder beats. And we got them. And more. Much more.

Monday, 7 December 2020

50@50, Part Two: 1980-1989

Side One (23:46)
11) Twist And Crawl (12" Version): The Beat (1980)
12) The Sound Of The Crowd (Complete) (12" Version): The Human League (1981)
13) Forever Now (Album Version By Todd Rundgren): The Psychedelic Furs (1982)
14) Rip It Up (The Intermediate Edit): Orange Juice (1983)
15) "It's One Louder, Isn't It?”: Spinal Tap (1984)


Side Two (21:25)
16) Raspberry Beret (LP Version): Prince & The Revolution (1985)
17) Summer Of Love (Single Edit By Shep Pettibone): The B-52’s (1986)
18) Just Like Heaven (Remix By Bob Clearmountain): The Cure (1987)
19) Voodoo Ray (Original Mix): A Guy Called Gerald (1988)
20) W.F.L. (The Vince Clarke Mix): Happy Mondays (1989)

The 1980s was all about the 12" single and I consumed them greedily. The Beat cheated with their reggae-inspired vocal & dub sides making up an extended version, but The Human League took the art of the 12" to the next level. The Sound Of The Crowd was always my favourite on the Radio 1 playlist and the 12" version didn't disappoint. Forever Now was the first Psychedelic Furs album I bought (I now have them all) and the title track was their greatest single that never was. Rip It Up was one of the first songs that proved that you didn't need to be able to sing in tune to have a really great tune. Spinal Tap was a life-changing movie and an endless treasure trove of quotes and moments. Prince, The B-52's and The Cure represent my own Summer Of Love in the mid-late '80s against the backdrop of imminent nuclear armageddon, but the late '80s dance revolution pointed to a more escapist but optimistic future. Everyone went for the Paul Oakenfold remixes of Happy Mondays, but the Vince Clarke remix of W.F.L. still gets me every time with its pounding, pulsing intro. As I left the 1980s, all I wanted to do was dance.

50@50, Part One: 1970-1979

Thanks for visiting and welcome!

As I rapidly approach five decades of clinging to this crazy, spinning planet, it seemed like a good time to start a blog. This isn't my first attempt - more on that another time - but here I'll mostly be sharing my love of music, my eclectic and frequently questionable taste and hopefully some treasures along the way.

In the spirit of The Vinyl Villain's Imaginary Compilation Album series, I'm starting off with an imaginary vinyl box set compilation of songs from the last 50 years that have meant something to me. This isn't a personal Top 50: I've ignored and left out many of my favourite artists and songs. The 'albums' are sequenced in chronological order, though I won't pretend that I discovered them in that order, cool though it would be to imagine being inspired by Curtis Mayfield before my 2nd birthday. However, all of the selections here have been important to me in different ways over the years. Enjoy...

Side One (22:19)
1)    Double Barrel: Dave & Ansel Collins (1970)

2)   Move On Up (Full Length Version): Curtis Mayfield (1971)
3)   Satellite Of Love (Album Version)
: Lou Reed (1972)
4)   Dance With The Devil
: Cozy Powell (1973)
5)   Emma
: Hot Chocolate (1974)

Side Two (22:50)
6)   Fight The Power (Part 1 & 2) (Album Version)
: The Isley Brothers (1975)
7)   Disco Inferno (Edit By Khayem)
: Trammps (1976)
8)   I Feel Love (12" Version)
: Donna Summer (1977)
9)   Shot By Both Sides (Single Version)
: Magazine (1978)
10) Twat (Live)
: John Cooper Clarke (1979)

My parents' record collection was mostly made up of K-Tel compilations purchased from the local Cash & Carry but on reflection, what an introduction to music they proved to be. The cheap 'n' cheerful, high volume, low quality pressings, cramming 10 songs per side of vinyl proved to be invaluable. The Story Of Pop, 40 Super Greats, Black Explosion, Dynamite, Disco Fever... they - and I - loved them. As a kid, looking at the cover of Dynamite, I always imagined that Kiki Dee and Cozy Powell were happily married. I coveted Keith Moon's purple trousers as displayed on the cover of 40 Super Greats. I marveled at the beauteous illustrations of Elvis Presley and David Bowie on the cover of the Radio One Story Of Pop supplement, whilst wondering why neither of them actually featured on the album of the same name. But my folks weren't K-Tel purists. Amongst the James Last and Music For Pleasure compilations, the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack shone brightly, especially the near-11 minute version of Disco Inferno that closed the album. Likewise, I was captivated by the original version of I Feel Love on the radio, but I was forever changed by the 15m 45s remix by Patrick Cowley in 1982. I loved it so much that I bought the 12" as a present for my brother so that I could tape both sides on my parents' hi-tech turntable/cassette deck combo. Magazine came to me slightly belatedly with their posthumous After The Fact compilation in the early 80s, and admittedly John Cooper Clarke most likely made a first impression via his Sugar Puffs ads rather than his poetry, but by this time I was hopelessly addicted to words and music with a capacity to love the camp, the crap, the poetic, the pretentious and the out-and-out pop. It's a love affair that's never ended.