With the return of Rosko to the Caroline North airwaves and my show sitting in for Paul Brown on the main album channel done and dusted, we had a weekend ‘at large’ to enjoy and spent it irresponsibly at the final, or so we’re told, annual Skegness Rock and Blues festival at Butlins Skeggy. The night before we set off we went to the New Vic in Stoke to catch Paul Jones and Dave Kelly and to be honest, if any of the acts we were due to see and hear over the weekend were on a level playing field with them, I’d have been happy. And happy I was. A Fab weekend, too much to mention, but for me, the three highlights (other views are available but, clearly, they’re all wrong) were…

Full House. Frankie Miller’s old band, still featuring the stunning guitar work of Ray Minhinnett.

I have previous to declare here. Back in early October 1976, at the University Of Dundee, (who were remarkably well disposed, thank the Lord, to taking in English duffers who’d not exactly exceeded expectations in their A-levels) the band booked for freshers week, just before I started my three-year stint as a resident DJ there, was Frankie Miller’s Full House.

And what a ‘Welcome to Scotland’ that was. My mate the celebrated rock snapper Allan McKay and I had one of those moments where we both knew that was it, whatever happens, we’re doing rock ‘n’ roll in some shape or form for the rest of our lives. It was like facing a full-on storm force wind – and it was the first time I’d been to a gig where a band had successfully welded Rock to Soul to the Blues with some damn strong pop tunes as well. To this day on Radio Caroline I use the personal strapline ‘Rock n Soul Radio’; get these two to meet on a stage somewhere, stir in a pinch of the blues and you’ve cracked it.

And to my absolute delight – and Butlins true intent is all for your delight, (it says so, it always did!) they absolutely nailed it. What a line up band leader and guitarist Ray Minhinnett has assembled here! They say the best musicians attract the best musicians and there’s not a duffer or time-server amongst this lot. From the opening bars of ‘Be Good To Yourself’ through an impassioned ‘Fool In Love’ right though to the final tongue in cheek disdain for the singalonga ‘Darlin’ at the end, (Miller hated the song, which he knew he was going to be stuck with forever once it became a massive top ten single hit, even when he returned to play our venue in ’78, and so do the rest of the band even now, but at least they had the honesty not to short change the punters who wanted to hear it and played it straightish) it was like standing in the eye of the storm again, only 47 years removed. Magic.

For most people in situations such as these, the elephant in the room would be that Frankie Miller was such a unique talent. Which was part of the problem, the record company just didn’t seem to know what to do with him. Nobody, and that’s nobody, could lay a glove on him in his pomp so the guy on the mic is on a hiding to nothing, right?  So I was nothing less than astonished to hear the man tasked with bringing the vocal delivery of these songs to life wasn’t just joining up the dots…he was absolutely giving this the best shot you could reasonably expect another human being to give. What a voice has yer man Gregor!  Go See wherever and whenever. They had to play a shorter set than normal and I’ve got to catch them out on the road somewhere else now. Truly the Celtic Soul Vision. If you go around not going to see these you might just as well give your ears away.

And I’d have been happy to go home at that point but…..Dana Gillespie and her band finished the proceeding late on Saturday night in the smallest of the four venues; but with mobile phones etc good news travels fast and by the time she was three songs in they were hanging off the rafters. For the uninitiated, Dana Gillespie was signed to Bowie’s MainMan management group and sang backing vocals on Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust album before releasing the album ‘Weren’t Born A Man’ on RCA records in 1973 which was produced by Bowie and his guitarist Mick Ronson. Since then she’s been largely concentrating on singing and recording the blues alongside her acting work and is a well known and respected member of the Blues fraternity. But all this just falls away when she lets rip with that band of hers, including the astonishing keyboard thumper Dino Baptiste who is just boogie on legs. Her main area of concern in the songs she performs are those highlighting the strange balance between the attraction and the fractiousness which exists between men and women – exclusively from a female perspective and we’re treated to a set of ripe old blues songs which made the walls blush, starting at Bessie Smith and working downwards. Imagine a more glamorous Jo Brand with A Voice belting out the blues in front of a band who are absolutely on fire and you get the gist. When I say the housewives’ favourite, Jimmy Young, had to be quite forcibly dissuaded from playing her version of ‘Ten Inch’ on Radio One back in the day, you probably get the idea. Time – she’s into her 70s now but you wouldn’t know it for the energy and ‘twinkle’ in the performance – has blessed her with a mellowed, husky set of pipes which just so suit the task in hand. Always good to see a ‘survivor’ thriving, but this was much, much more – an object lesson in how to work a room. This isn’t a relic of the wild times relishing last woman standing status; this is overdue recognition of an outstanding talent. That David Bowie, he knew what he was about.

Sunday afternoon and the Chicago Blues Legends Show is on in Reds which is by far and away the best of the ‘big’ venues. The sound in Centre Stage is usually horrible and woolly and the big tent is, well, a big tent. But Reds is crisp, precise and usually a very good listen and so it was on the Sunday afternoon in question. Giles Robson and the aforementioned Dino Baptiste did a sterling job opening for them and on came the first of the Legends, a hand-picked hot Chicago player already doing great things and destined for greater. Jamiah Rogers was the unanimous choice of the old stagers who were due to follow him on the package and it was a brave move as this guy is HOT. We’ve all heard ‘Baby Please Don’t Go’; not like this, you haven’t. And, like all really talented American entertainers, he knows how to grab an audience without seeming to make the effort and in the tradition of the Blues, it tends to be BS-free as well. If you’re rising to the top of a scene as competitive as the Chicago blues scene – at the age of 27 – well…no disrespect but those old lads better be At It, that’s all I’m saying.

 Twice Grammy-nominated, John Primer was part of Willie Dixon’s Chicago All-Stars and led Muddy Waters Band from 1981 onwards. A small figure hunched behind a big red Gibson (I think, I was a long way back. Sunday afternoon, I like a nice sit down then) and promptly brought the fields, the city and the Hard Times right to my table.

I don’t know how they do that. How can a musician bring you that Shakespeare’s catharsis thing right to your table when you’re gently sipping a pint of Guinness and are comfortably at your leisure? And there you are, head down and nodding quietly to yourself while the man plays turbocharged Jeremy Kylesque stories of poverty and misery and extreme deprivation and there you go. You Got The Blues. First Time all weekend I genuinely Got ‘Em. And then on comes Billy Branch. He’s recorded and / or toured with Willie Dixon, Johnny Winter, Lou Rawls, Taj Mahal……and he plays the old gob iron like the living spit of Little Walter. And he played ‘My Babe’ and it was 1955, it was Chicago, and it was January, and cold. And then they all joined together and hollered and stomped and wailed.

And when I stepped outside after that because my head was full it was January, and cold.

And the fourth of my three top choices for the weekend – King Pleasure and The Biscuit Boys. Now you couldn’t get further away on the blues spectrum then these. We felt, myself and the legendary Mrs Jenner, that a bit of a knees-up would be a suitable way to round off proceedings for the weekend and this lot did not disappoint and they’re no mugs either, having been in with BB King amongst others. A sort of turbo swing, Jumping  Jive / Big Jay McNeely / Cab Calloway / Louis Jordan mash-up meets Bill Haley and the Comets, Madness and Lord Rockingham’s Eleven with Eric Morecombe on slap bass. The lead singer chose the purtiest girl in the room to dance with when he went walkabout and so I graciously donated the Legendary Mrs J to the cause, as if I had a choice in the matter and we went to our very clean and comfy billet, I have to say, back to tea and toast and the back end of Match of the Day, utterly convinced of the stupidity of the decision, whatever the politics to make this the last Rock n Blues Festy weekender.

Outright winner? For me, Full House on points. But then again I got reasons!

Another Saturday, another venue to tick off the list. The Unicorn on Camden Road seems incongruous in this area; you think it should maybe be a mile down the road with all the vibey places in Camden Town. But maybe it works because of the distance. Anyway, the reason for this excursion from the well-travelled path is to check out a pub that’s daring to put on live music six nights a week; tonight’s offering was the “Somewhat Damaged” night offering four very different live sets. It wasn’t packed to the rafters, but it was reasonably busy, with an enthusiastic audience.

So, first up was a solo set from Adam Lightspeed playing acoustic versions of some new songs and some from his band Starscream’s debut album. It was a valiant attempt, but the album versions lean heavily on big productions and the songs weren’t the same in the stripped-down format. Full marks for effort; it can be a lonely place on stage solo when the room’s nowhere near full. The album “Sexploitation” is definitely worth a listen though.

Next up, Loose Joints were from the badlands of south-east Essex, mashing up funky rhythms with riff-driven rockers and generally getting the audience off their seats on their feet. They even threw in their own take on the James Bond theme. Great tunes, inventive arrangements and loads of fun. I’m sure I’ll be seeing Loose Joints again.

So, what about Sister Witch? The songs are the work of David Ryder Prangley and Lux Lyall, guitarist and singer respectively and they were joined on stage by Belle Star and Anna Christina (drums and bass) from Lilygun and another two guitarists to create a very seventies-style line-up; three guitars, indeed. There’s more than a nod to seventies iconography as well, with DRP’s low-slung guitar and the routine of sharing Lux’s vocal mic à la Bowie and Ronson. And the glam references don’t stop there, some of the riffs could be T Rex at their noisiest and they’re interspersed some classic Stones-style interwoven guitars. And that’s before we get on to the studied ennui of Lux, sitting down to read a Zelda Fitzgerald biography mid-song. A bit theatrical maybe, but it’s all part of the show, and she really can sing, so it’s not just a distraction; it never harmed Bowie or the New York Dolls to introduce a bit of performance art. On a crowded stage there was always something interesting to watch; no way you’re going to ignore Sister Witch. Style yes: substance definitely.

As for Black Sixteen, well, not for me really. Two guitars, bass and drums knocking out muscular riffs and a singer who didn’t quite have the voice to compete. Maybe not helped by the minimal soundcheck, but they just weren’t doing it for me. Nice venue, but one little whinge on behalf of the photographers. Red stage lighting; just say no.

Have a look at some of the photos from the gig here and here.