With all of the in-depth reviews and other stuff on Real Gone, since it’s nearly Christmas, it’s time for a bit of fun.
Every day between the 1st and 24th of December, a new link will be posted here containing a clip. It may music, maybe not; it may be a classic you’ve seen a thousand times, it may be something you’ve never seen…it may not even be an official clip.
It’s just a handy way of rounding up a few of Real Gone’s favourites in a quick and unoriginal fashion. After the calendar is completed on Christmas Eve, the links will stay up for those who missed out.
…Will Bruce Springsteen will be bellowing festively somewhere?
When Napalm Death appeared on the scene in the late 80s, they were one of the most extreme bands ever. Their grindcore assault, delivering uber-short metal numbers with a hardcore punk aggression, made their debut album ‘Scum’ almost impenetrable. It wasn’t just the sheer intensity that made it somehow fascinating, but also the fact that each side of the LP was recorded with almost an entirely different line-up, with only drummer Mick Harris remaining. This was clearly a band who mightn’t go the distance…
Napalm Death weren’t just a flash in the pan. A second album, recorded with vocalist Lee Dorrian – who appeared on part of the debut – assaulted the listener with a similar intensity over the course of twenty two numbers. After this, he would soon depart to form the doom metal band Cathedral and guitarist Bill Steer would form Carcass, both of who also achieved cult success. [While neither of Napalm’s first two albums were a commercial success, they’ve been critically acclaimed by the press, with ‘Scum’ heralded as a groundbreaking work].
From the band’s third album onwards, regrouping with vocalist Mark ‘Barney’ Greenway on board, Napalm began a long and far more settled journey, one which would see them temper their sound a little, mixing their grindcore roots with copious death and thrash metal influences. As the gig below demonstrates – recorded 25 years, fifteen albums and several line-up shifts into the band’s surprisingly long career – any tempering is relative, since Napalm still carry a hefty punch.
While Napalm Death have never been a band that Real Gone has really understood, that their extreme sounds could gain a much bigger audience than the likes of ‘Scum’ would have ever suggested years ago is something to be admired. [Early performance and interview footage can also be found in the video clips here].
After years of struggling to find an identity following the death of frontman Michael Hutchence in 1997, Aussie rockers INXS have finally thrown in the towel.
Perhaps The Sydney Morning Herald best sums up the band’s bowing out, suggesting that “For fans of INXS there will be no overwhelming emotion, no note of tragedy or life passing, for the mourning has already been conducted, the farewells made. INXS effectively ended 15 years ago for most people, ending when Michael Hutchence died in November 1997.”
It’s a sentiment surely shared by many, Real Gone included. Having followed the band’s career eagerly for the ten years, between the release of ‘Kick’ and it’s many hits and Hutchence’s passing, INXS recorded some great music, but Hutch’s death really should have been taken as a cue for the them to bow out gracefully and respectfully.
At their best they were a great, radio-friendly rock band. They recorded a legacy of great music prior to 1997 (from 1986-1992 especially), but following the death of their much-loved lead vocalist, the band’s five surviving members made distasteful choices rivalled only by Brian May and Roger Taylor’s trading off the Queen brand. From whoring themselves on a talent show, playing live with whoever seemed to be around and finally trotting out a largely woeful disc of re-recordings, the attempts at hanging on tested the patience of all but the most loyal. Their one proper studio album (‘Switch’, recorded with JD Fortune) was solid by radio-friendly rock band standards, but a world away from INXS at their best.
This is time which we feel could have been better spent repackaging the back-cat and issuing any rarities they had. ‘Kick’ got a well-deserved anniversary two-disc reissue in 2002 and a shabbily cobbled together four-disc edition in 2012, but what of the rest? Surely 1986’s classic ‘Listen Like Thieves’ is worthy of a decent revisit? Where are the out-of-print VHS titles ‘The Swing & Other Stories’ and ‘In Search of Excellence’ in the DVD market? The latter, in particular, is the definitive word on the band’s career from their formation until the late 80s and would have made an essential addition to the ‘Kick’ box set, and yet, it’s in a record company vault somewhere gathering dust… We can only hope that one day the Hutch-era catalogue will get a worthy re-evaluation. That might compensate for a decade and a half’s half-arsed wandering through the wilderness with no real sense of direction.
With the band having limped slowly to their demise over the past fifteen years, we have to ask why they did it. Fifteen years is far too long to scrape a living from past glories. After all, a decade and a half is far longer than most bands get in the spotlight (or otherwise) in the 21st century – bands who’ve certainly shown far more promise than the post-Hutch INXS could ever deliver.
At the end of August 2012, another website posted a short article where they looked at their ten favourite Van Morrison songs. A predictable list, heavily weighted towards the glory years, the extremely well known ‘Brown Eyed Girl’, ‘Into The Mystic’, ‘Caravan’ and ‘Domino’ were present and correct.
While there is no denying the ten chosen tracks were all worthy of praise in their almost timeless brilliance, the chart was culled from tunes present on most ‘Best Of’ compilations. With ‘Days Like This’ the only post 70s track chosen, there was scope for such a chart to be far more interesting.
All charts are purely based upon opinion with no hard and fast rules, but there are only so many times you can look at a Van Morrison top ten dominated by “the usual suspects”.
At Real Gone, we have decided to visit Van Morisson’s vast back catalogue and present a few of those more overlooked gems. Hopefully, this will inspire the casual “best of” listener to dig a little deeper, while reminding the more serious fan of a few tunes they may not have spun in a while.
STREETS OF ARKLOW
From 1974’s ‘Veedon Fleece’, this tune is nothing short of incredible. Van paints a lyrical picture of his home country, backed with a rattling acoustic guitar, sparse piano and penny whistle. Pulled together by strings and a superb bassline, Morrison’s emotive vocal is, perhaps, a career best.
FLAMINGOS FLY
Morrison’s 1977 record ‘A Period of Transition’ had troubled beginnings. His first attempt at recording a follow up to ‘Veedon Fleece’ resulted in an almost complete album’s worth of material getting shelved at the last minute. By the time of ‘Transition’s eventual release, the public had not heard any new material from Van for three years and were largely disappointed with the album he presented. Seven songs clocking in at thirty-four minutes seemed like meagre pickings, while Morrison’s folk and jazz roots got sidelined in favour of something funkier. ‘Flamingos Fly’ originally dates as far back as 1973 and was first recorded at the 1975 sessions in a much slower rendition, before finding a home here. It is probably this album’s most “traditionally Van” song. Despite the album being critically slammed, this tune’s greatness did not go un-noticed – it was covered by Sammy Hagar on his solo debut shortly afterwards. [Most of those shelved 1975 sessions were released on ‘The Philosopher’s Stone’ in 1998. Many fans still feel they are superior to the album Morrison eventually delivered.]
CLEANING WINDOWS
Aside from Elton John, most artists who achieved greatness in the 1970s floundered in the 80s, as the new technology and reliance on synths watered down their sound. Neil Young and Bob Dylan released some atrocious albums during the decade, and Van did not escape guilt free. 1982’s ‘Beautiful Vision’ is a largely lightweight, forgettable affair, but even that album has a gem within. A flop single, ‘Cleaning Windows’ is fun and jaunty (two words rarely associated with Morrison), given extra kudos by the appearance of the unmistakable Mark Knopfler on guitar.
HAUNTS OF ANCIENT PEACE
After releasing a string of superb albums in the 1970s, Morrison entered the new decade with an album which was unlikely to grab anyone on first listen. 1980’s ‘Common One’ is best described as slight, since five of its six (mostly lengthy) numbers wander along with a mix of jazz and Celtic ambience. Often drenched in choirs, saxophones and 80s synths, ‘Common One’ is best experienced as a late night record. This opening number sets the tone for the bulk of the album and is a particular highlight. The version below – recorded at Montreux shortly after the album’s release – is a little more upfront than the recorded version, but the mood isn’t too different overall.
REALLY DON’T KNOW
Drawing from Van’s R&B roots with Them, ‘Really Don’t Know’ is a straight-up blues number featuring The Man in particularly great voice, against a particularly wonderful piano line. Recorded during the sessions for ‘Moondance’ in 1969, this brilliant track remained on the shelf until it appeared on ‘The Philosopher’s Stone’ – a collection of rare and unreleased cuts – in 1998.
IRISH HEARTBEAT
Morrison’s 1983 outing ‘Inarticulate Speech of the Heart’ is seen by many as a career low, due to its over-reliance of instrumental material and its Simply Red-esque 80s synths. Despite this, it includes a couple of absolutely unmissable cuts in ‘The Street Only Knew Your Name’ and this song. ‘Irish Heartbeat’ is easy listening, yes, but it has a simple melody and heartfelt quality that ultimately makes it endearing. Even on his off days, it seems that Van can deliver the goods when singing about Ireland… The below rendition, recorded with The Chieftans (released in 1988) reinforces the gentle Celtic melodies, but is otherwise very similar to Morrison’s original 1983 take. [Read a review of ‘Inarticulate Speech’ here.]
THE STREET ONLY KNEW YOUR NAME
Recorded in 1975 but unreleased, this song was re-recorded and included on 1983’s ‘Inarticulate Speech’. Even in its eighties guise – all backing vocals and shiny synths – it’s a superb number, so it’s somewhat of a mystery why Van chose to leave it unreleased so long. It should have been allowed pride of place much earlier on 1977’s ‘Period of Transition’. The 1975 take (as heard below, and again featured on ‘The Philosopher’s Stone’), is naturally superior. While the brassy backing vocals can feel a touch overdone, the bass and piano arrangements combined with Morisson’s commanding lead performance makes this a classic.
HIGH SUMMER
Like his contemporaries, Van rattled through the 80s not always achieving best results, but his talent blossomed again during the 90s as technology took a backseat and 60s/70s artists were allowed to make older sounding records once again. Morrison’s later albums from the 1990’s – ‘Days Like This’, ‘The Healing Game’ and ‘Back On Top’ – are all essential listening, but it is perhaps the last of these which is the strongest. ‘Back On Top’ brims with confidence, Morisson fully knowing he’s in top musical shape. Giving plenty of space to Morrison’s harmonica work, ‘High Summer’ mixes R&B chops and a powerful vocal with excellent results.
GOLDFISH BOWL
Just as the 90s reinvigorated Van’s sound, in the early/mid 2000’s his work took a more late night feel, as he experimented with jazz and softer blues works. 2003’s ‘What’s Wrong With This Picture?’ – his first album for the re-launched Blue Note label – is, perhaps, his best from this period. ‘Goldfish Bowl’ captures a solid, live in the studio vibe with upright bass and organ. It’s hard to imagine longtime fans not finding this absolutely joyous.
LISTEN TO THE LION
1972’s ‘Saint Dominic’s Preview’ is widely accepted to be a classic album. While compilations always include ‘Jackie Wilson Said’, each of its other tracks are also first rate. The album’s centrepiece ‘Listen To The Lion’ is a sprawling, experimental folksy number, celebrating the strength of human spirit. Musically, its shift between a definite structure and improvised vocal scats present the essence of what has made Morisson’s career so enduring over the decades.
Early in 2012, folk-punk troubadour Frank Turner announced he would be embarking on a new project which returned to the hardcore roots of Million Dead.
In August 2012, the first clip of that new band, Mongol Horde, appeared online, capturing the musicians live in their rehearsal space.
At the end of the month, Mongol Horde played well-received sets at the Reading and Leeds festivals. Prior to those well publicised appearances, the band made their public debut at The Wheelbarrow in Camden, supported by an enthusiastic and very intimate crowd. That performance can now be viewed below.
