Now that the live music scene has come back to something resembling normality, our Man in the North has been getting out to a few gigs again. Here are his thoughts on four gigs in the north of England by George Thorogood, Joe Jackson, From the Jam and Lil’ Jimmy Reed, including a gig at one of Music Riot’s favourite venues, The Picturedrome in Holmfirth.

Cats are supposed to have 9 lives but this cat (in a Keith Richards stylee) enjoyed 4 lives in 9 days (or thereabouts) in various bits of England in amongst a heavy-duty  studio schedule back here in the Staffordshire Moorlands…starting with George Thorogood and the Destroyers at the Nottingham Royal Concert Hall. Nottingham’s love affair with George Thorogood started at Rock City over 40 years ago, and now he’s a Major Rock Star, he’s played the Royal Concert hall a few times.

Bless him, he looks a bit ‘lived in’ now compared to the pumped-up All-American guitar slinger who bust out of Rounder Records at me way back in the seventies, in fact he’s 72 years old so he’s excused, but his arm looks in much better nick than when we last saw him in Manchester a fair few years ago when he was all strapped up and heavily reliant on his second guitarist to do some of the ‘heavy lifting’. He certainly seemed to be shifting around the gee-tar quite comfortably this time, and joy of joys as this cannot be said for many of a certain age, his voice is still a very useful weapon.

The rather ‘cartoon’ ‘Rock Party’ gives way to a spirited romp through Bo Diddley’s ‘Who Do You Love’ and as he correctly surmises…’and we’re away…’ and the middle eight’ of the gig comprises some good ol’ George favourites, ‘Night Time’, ‘I Drink Alone’ and a rapturously received ‘One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer’. Nowt wrong with that. No, Sir. More or less at this point he switches to a beautiful white Epiphone and slide tube, and we get ‘Gear Jammer’, ‘Get A Haircut And Get A Real Job’, and to enjoy the irony of that you have to go back to the days when there was such a thing as a ‘Real Job,’ a crowd-pleasing ‘Bad To The Bone’ and a joyous romp through the Champs ‘Tequila’ and then sprinting home with the title track from ‘Move It On Over’ before an encore of ‘Born To Be Bad’ and a bizarre awarding of a single rose to a lady on the front row whilst the National Anthem played (not the American one). His slide work is still gold standard stuff, The Destroyers, including the old 1970s  originals Billy Blough and Jeff Simon still pound along with enthusiasm and yes, there aren’t the physical pyrotechnics and Chuck Berry ‘duck walks’ anymore and it does look like hard work on occasion, which it assuredly is. But these are card-carrying American musicians. You’ve paid to see a Rock Show in the grand manner, and you’re getting your money’s worth. For how much longer, I wouldn’t like to hazard. But right now, you’re unlikely to see and hear a better set of rocking blues here in the UK.

From there to Manchester and the Albert Hall, which is actually a converted Methodist Hall which is over a hundred years old and is perhaps best described as ‘shabby chic’. A medium-sized venue, it has probably the longest walk to the rest rooms outside of a festival setting and significantly more stairs. However, it did, on the face of it, appear to be a charming venue for us to see Joe Jackson go through his paces for the first time since the early 80s.

The local support act were almost inaudible and that should have set the warning bells a-jangling but as they were of the hyper-sensitive acoustic singer songwriter duo I was inclined to put that down to the genre. But Sadly Not. Joe Jackson took to the stage with his band, and as ever the main man cut a dapper figure, almost painfully tall and thin, and straight away we’re in trouble. The opening song is just a muddy mess, ‘One More Time’ completely ruined, Jackson’s voice almost completely drowned. OK, a sighting shot. Come on, mixing desk guy, get it sorted. ‘Big Black Cloud’ is slightly better, but this isn’t saying a great deal. ‘Sunday Papers’ is knowing and brisk, but once again, the cacophony which surrounds him seems to be fighting the voice rather than supporting it.

Jackson’s keyboard work is nothing less than sumptuous, though. ‘Real Men’ is a compromised delight and this leads to tonight’s cover where he wryly observes he usually likes to do one cover in a set from a band he likes….but this time he’ll do one by a band he really doesn’t like, and promptly launches into an extremely well-arranged and thoroughly enjoyable cover of Abba’s ‘Knowing me, Knowing You’.    And then a bit of a break before ‘Blaze of Glory‘ ‘Tomorrow’s World’ and ‘Fool’, and it becomes increasingly apparent that either 1. It is nigh-on impossible to get a decent sound in the venue, OR; 2. The sound guy is clueless. In any case, the drummer plays with a lack of sensitivity and touch which is almost breathtaking. It’s as if he’s employed Animal from the Muppets to ruin the set for him. A couple of songs where Jackson plays and sings solo underlines this. In mine own humble, he’d have been better off touring solo with his keyboard and maybe somebody on a cajon or something. ‘Sing You Sinners,’ a cover of the Tony Bennett standard leads into what for me was the highlight of a frustrating gig, a re-arranged and vocally – led ‘Is She Really Going Out With Him’. And it is apparent, as it has been all night, that his voice is still Right There. ‘Different For Girls’ is played completely straight down the line and is a serious high point and ‘I’m The Man’ is played with an energetic, punky joy which gets them dancing in the aisles. So we’re all warmed up and it looks like He’s The Man and he’s going to pull triumph from the teeth of near – disaster; the assembled knows what’s coming. ‘Stepping Out’, top ten hit both sides of the Atlantic, and they’re ready to celebrate and dance. So the band elect to play it as a slow ballad. Which of course it can be sung as, lyrically that much is clear. But under the circumstances, Why Would You? Classic case of just because you can doesn’t mean you should. F for frustrating. He was good, It could have been soooo much better. Would I go see Joe Jackson again? Probably. Would I go to Manchester Albert Hall again? Probably not.

Ah, well. Sup up your beer and collect your fags. A hop and a skip around the uncharacteristically parched Pennines and here we are in gorgeous Holmfirth, and all dressed up for my favourite music venue in the entire country, the Picturedrome. And a revisit to From The Jam for the first time in a good few years as well.

And they are on top form from the off. Neither of the main men, Bruce Foxton or Russell Hastings are in the first flush of youth and the intersong raps often focus on the effects of statins and the magic of stents but they play with brutal conviction and drive. ‘Broooos’ even manages a couple of eye-watering scissor kicks and I’m speaking as a contemporary here.

We are Having It tonight, it seems.

Early set highlights are a stinging ‘David Watts’ which really underlines the band’s (yes, this one and the ‘previous’ one) links back to the 60s beat boom, but without the corny guitar tricks, angelic harmonies and ersatz American accents which compromised so much of the home-grown, R’n’B based pop music of the time. They go for ‘A Town Called Malice’ early in the set which is, some might say, brave; a nailed – on encore barnstormer all day long, but with a body of work like this I guess you can afford to take a risk or two.

‘Pretty Green’ and ‘Saturday’s Kids’ are just a joy to hear. What great songs they are – and they’re played with power, energy and verve and – the voices work SO well together. Russell Hastings seems very comfortable in his role and it is gratifying that there are almost as many ‘Russell’ shouts as there are shouts for ‘Broooos’.

Bruce himself doesn’t look entirely comfortable at some points in the set or indeed totally happy though goodness knows why, if I was caught up in the middle of that lot I’d spend all my time delighting in the fact that I’d found a way to take these songs out on the road again and put them in front of people in the manner they were intended. ‘That’s Entertainment’ is a full – on pull out the stops electric version and ‘Start’ is pure 60s beat-boom magic. I absolutely delight in The Jam’s Motown and soul covers from way ‘back in the day’ so it is with ‘throw myself about all over the place’ abandon I greet ‘Heatwave’ which even includes the headlong vocal ‘call and response’ stuff towards the end. ‘Strange Town’, ‘In The City’, ‘Eton Rifles’, ‘Going Underground’ (after an EXTREMELY lengthy wait for the band to come out for the encore, apparently due to ‘discussions’ about the encore songs) but by this time the whole place is reduced to a sweaty, heaving dysfunctional mess, the front is in full mosh mode and that magic feeling you only get when a top bunch of musicians have taken the place with them has broken out and pervades the sweat – soaked air.

That’s the way you do it. GO and see them and that’s an order.

Home and a big breakthrough for me – I’ve been asked to do a ‘cover’ shift on the main Radio Caroline album channel, having produced over 200 shows for the Caroline Flashback ‘oldies channel’ and I am totally made up. But before I lock myself away in the studio and start to understand the way all that works, gig number 4, a short drive across the moors through England’s highest village to Buxton and a visit to the charmingly sedate Pavilion Gardens, where Louisiana blues legend Lil’ Jimmy Reed is on the bandstand.

Now, Lil’ Jimmy is not actually called Lil’ Jimmy Reed. His real name is Leon Atkins but that’s where the kidding stops. This guy learned his trade playing gigs with the REAL Jimmy Reed, you know, ‘Shame Shame Shame’ and all that, and his peers, so it is not unreasonable to assume our man is knocking on a bit. Indeed, he is the dangerous side of 80 and can reasonably lay claim to being one of the last ‘original’ purveyors of Louisiana Blues.

And what a bunch of ‘sidemen’ he presents to us tonight (or doesn’t, he barely addresses the audience at all apart from through his music). On keyboards, Bob Hall, long-time collaborator with Alexis Korner, and a relatively youthful 80, Hilary Blythe on a U-bass, and the drummer with Ten Years After during the glory years, Ric Lee.

Hang on, let me do that again. This guy has played Woodstock. Yes, THAT Woodstock. He’s not going to waste his time.

And he isn’t.

The band shuffle on, looking like a group of retired schoolteachers albeit in a concession to ‘showbiz’ dressed in cabaret-style glittery stage apparel (with the exception of Ric Lee, he’s clearly having none of that old malarkey).

And promptly proceed to light up the stage with some of the best and most authentic blues you’ll hear this year or probably ever again.

We get ‘Hoochie Coochie Man’, we get ‘Caress Me Baby’, we get ‘How Blue Can You Get’, ‘We Get Big Boss Man’…but it almost doesn’t matter what we get. Reed just glides around his guitar with the assurance of a man who has HAD to play for a living for years and years and years, wherever there was a dollar to be earned and the band just roll with it. There are a few hilarious interludes where Reed, who sure don’t say much, tries to let the band know what key to start in by mouthing it across from one side of the stage to the other. Now, communicated like this there ain’t much difference between A,D,E or G, with, as critics might say, hilarious consequences. I’d be tempted to get different coloured paddles and wave them about at the start of each song but that would probably just lose some of the charm. Nope, he don’t talk much. I think I’d also advise against the audience walkabout with the guitar. He’s so stick thin and frail-looking, I was genuinely worried he’d ‘have a fall’ as people say about elderly folks. But then again you also get the impression that Nobody Tells Him What To Do. After the break, where the merch stand is hammered so much they actually run out of CDs, he disappears to the bar for three songs, which is unusual as he’s doesn’t drink, giving the band opportunity (which it didn’t look like they were expecting!) to do a few of their own songs prior to his re-appearance.

But sing….he opens his mouth and the pain and weariness, struggle, soul and strain of slowly lifting himself out of the shotgun shack in which he was born and raised, all fall out amongst a magical cascade of scattergun electric blues. He plays slide with just his fingers. He uses his hands as percussion. What A Player. What A Voice.

As you might expect with that pedigree, the drums are absolutely rock solid and perfectly in context and in fact all the musicians manage to make a telling contribution to the evening’s events without ever drowning or obscuring the business end of it all, which would have been near-sacrilegious.

Make no mistake, this man is the Real Deal and he might well be able to lay claim to the title Last Man Standing. I left the venue thinking that I probably won’t see anything like that again.  And that doesn’t happen every night.

So, four very different live experiences. You pays your money, you takes your pick. But what I will say with total conviction is it is SO good to be able to get out and enjoy a whole range of live music again. What was once a lifestyle, now feels like a privilege. Whatever it is that floats your boat, GO. Just go.

4 for George Thorogood, 3 for Joe Jackson, 5 for From The Jam, and 5 for Lil’ Jimmy Reed.

It’s time to get the High Fives under way for 2015 and, in a break with tradition, I’m handing over the opening slot to one of our guests, Neil Sheasby, bass player and co-songwriter with one of The Riot Squad’s favourite bands, Stone Foundation. The band have had a great year with the release of their superb album “A Life Unlimited” (guest vocal from Graham Parker, no less), a Japanese tour and some high profile UK gigs. Neil’s observations on music are always interesting, so it’s a pleasure to let him have the first High Five this year.

 

Kamasi WashingtonKAMASI WASHINGTON – “THE EPIC”

A record that pretty much defined my summer, for a few weeks I didn’t play much else. It is actually one of those albums that the more you listen to it, the more it will give you in return. It’s quite a sprawling, challenging recording set over three discs and clocking in at around three hours so it’s hard to digest all in one sitting but its depth, beauty and sheer ambition is unlike any other album I have heard in recent times. It could easily sit alongside the jazz heavyweights such as Coltrane’s output for impulse & Atlantic. Probably more accessible though. It has a timeless quality to it and an underlying spiritual vibe, funky too. I was lucky enough to catch his recent London gig and the playing was just on another level, astonishing stuff. Inspiring. He also led me to Kendrick Lamar’s “To Pimp a Butterfly” album (Kamasi plays on it) which is a great modern hip hop record again pushing & re-defining the boundaries of that particular genre.

 

New OrderTHE NU-NOSTALGIA !

I think 2015 has been a strong year for new releases and new music in general, it’s been encouraging.I’ve really enjoyed new albums from artists I hadn’t previously heard of like Ryley Walker whose “Primrose Green” album evokes traces of John Martyn & Tim Buckley; also the Julia Holter record is an interesting listen but I must admit the real surprises of the year have lain with the rejuvenation of established arists that have made really unexpected returns to former glories. New Order’s “Music Complete” album was a real eye opener, easily their best since 1989’s Technique. It’s a real triumph; Peter Hook free too! They should be proud of  such a complete piece of work after all these years, it was a bona fide pleasant surprise to my ears, I’d about written them off.

Also this year there’s been great new albums from Joe Jackson (“Fast Forward) and Squeeze (“Cradle to the Grave”) that are fit to stand alongside any of their previous highlights.

 

A Man in a Hurry“A MAN IN A HURRY”

This is a film about the relatively short life of British Jazz genius Tubby Hayes. It was made by two good friends of mine, Mark Baxter & Lee Cogswell and it’s a fascinating profile and made with much affection for its subject, narrated by Martin Freeman and it includes commentary & interviews with Sir Peter Blake, Spike Wells, Robert Elms, Simon Spillett and Ed Piller amongst others. I’ve known Mark for several years now and from day one he always had a burning desire to create a fitting documentary as a testament to Tubby’s life & music, he’s more than succeeded, I’m so pleased for him & Lee. It’s a fantastic little film and one that had me running for the records again.

Me and a mate recently attended the London launch party for its DVD release and on the train home it had us talking passionately about London & the Soho jazz scenes through the years, the clothes and the clubs, the DJ’s, bands, singers etc.That’s the tell-tale sign that “A Man in a Hurry” film had served its purpose all right.

 

Isley BrothersTHE ISLEY BROTHERS BOX SET

Released earlier this year The RCA Victor and T-Neck albums all housed together in a 22 CD box set. It spans the Isleys career from 1959 up to 1983 taking in all those classic mid 70’s albums as well as a previously unreleased live album recorded at Bearsville Sound Studios. It’s an absolute beauty and really highlights the often overlooked genius of The Isley Brothers. Ronald, Ernie and Rudolph began with Doo-wop roots and evolved marvellously through classic Soul, Funk and even disco

It’s an incredible collection, once I get immersed in it, I’m in there for days on end. Brilliant stuff.

 

You Know my NameYOU KNOW MY NAME: THE LOVERS, THE DREAMERS AND BOBBY SCOTT

A compelling & fascinating read by one of my favourite writers, Kevin Pearce. It’s actually the first book I have ever read from start to finish on my phone, it was my companion whilst on holiday this summer. Not many will be familiar with the name of Bobby Scott but it’s probably safe to say that you would have certainly heard his work.

Bobby composed, arranged, sang, produced and performed with countless artists including Marvin Gaye, Bobby Darin, Timi Yuro, Aretha Franklin, Chet Baker, Quincy Jones, Roland Kirk, Deodato, Stan Getz, Astrud Gilberto and a cast of thousands more. Bobby Scott songs include “A Taste of Honey”, recorded by the Beatles, and the epic “He ain’t Heavy, He’s my Brother” which The Hollies struck gold with (also check Donny Hathaway’s miraculous version) The only downer to reading this book is that it will seriously have you running back and forth to You Tube checking out song after song and of course in my case, being a hopeless music junkie, I ended up spending a small fortune on chasing up some of these spectacular sounds for my ever expanding collection.

I also read great autobiographies from Robert Wyatt, Bernard Sumner, Nile Rodgers, and somewhat refreshingly the Italian footballer Pirlo. I was a tad disappointed with the Grace Jones book, thought it would be more telling I think, then again Paul Morley was involved so no surprise I was underwhelmed.

I’m just about to begin Elvis Costello’s “Unfaithful music and Disappearing Ink”; looking forward to it…..