Dave Berkham "I Tried"

Last Friday Dave Berkham (of Portland, Oregon's paisley patterned pop troupe The Reverberations) released a couple of nigh on perfect gentle-voiced, heartfelt janglers for bandcamp Friday. "I Tried" is one of the loveliest tunes released in the 2021 so far and is certain to find favour among those counting down the days till the next issue of Shindig! lands on their doorstep and anyone who yearns for Ric Menck to step out from behind his drum kit and back into the vocal booth. For its part, "Younger Days" sounds like a lost Hollies-inspired Sneetches classic that really ought to grace a Bus Stop Label 45. Maybe it's time for Not Unloved to take up cosmic ordering in the hope that some benevolent saint can be cajoled into having these songs pressed onto 7" vinyl...

Les Ombres "Whatcha Gonna Do"

Not Unloved grew up under the misapprehension that no great pop music originated outside the UK or US. In fact, the first time I went to the fondly remembered West Nicolson Street branch of Avalanche Records in Edinburgh in the early-90s on the hunt for Shop Assistants or Popguns records, I scoffed internally when I saw the 'New Zealand bands' section. I mean, what kinda dunce would waste valuable time listening to groups with names like Able Tasmans or Tall Dwarfs? (Yeah, I know.) It's been fun over the years discovering just how wrong I was back then. Lately, a bunch of great 7"s of Belgian origin have entered Not Unloved's orbit, the first of which was 1964's "Whatcha Gonna Do" by the surprisingly dapper teenage beat sensations Les Ombres. It's up there with the peerless "Can't See For Looking" by The Bobcats or Gary and The Hornets' dazzling take on "Baby, It's You" in the soft-voiced doomed teenage romance stakes.

Shirley & Johnny "And I Don't Want Your Love"

There's an almost Buddy Holly goes gospel with Phil Spector at the controls feel to Shirley and Johnny's brilliant 1967 Parlophone single "And I Don't Want Your Love". From the feather-light guitar of the intro, to the intermittent fanfares, handclaps and cavernous drums, Norman 'Hurricane' (of "The Piper At The Gates of Dawn", "S.F. Sorrow" etc.)  Smith's production is a joy. Curiously, the song starts with "Yeah, and I don't want your love" as if we've started eavesdropping midway through a couple's break-up argument. From there it only gets gloomier:

I don't need the trouble

I don't need the pain

I don't need the fussin'

Or the cryin' again

...and more more pained:

I won't wreck my mind

I won't walk the line

All that's missing is a tear-stained stream of "and another thing!"s. Had I heard this on Sounds of the 60s (there's a fair chance I did), I would've enjoyed it but would most likely have assumed it to be a cheerful little number with a bright, radio-friendly production. It just goes to show how wrong I can be about things.

The G-Men "Il Canto Dei Ragazzi"

Lately, the old fool known to a few as Not Unloved has fallen head over heels in L.O.V.E. love with The G-Men's 1969 opus "Il Canto Dei Ragazzi". I dread to think how many times I've listened to the YouTube clip, below. One of these days I'll actually make the time to play the 7" I bought but for now, YouTube it is. I love it for many of the same reasons (the atmospheric deployment of wah-wah pedal, the restrained rhythm, the cracking lead vocal) that I love The Action's dazzling "Brain". Usually, it's the brief garage thumpers or sunshine pop swingers that find favour here but I guess years of listening to the Japanese guitar blasters (Haino, Kurihara, Batoh et al) has paved the way for me to, finally, really feel the odd tune with a slightly extended guitar solo. Shocker!

2 new 7"s from Those Old Records

Those Old Records is a record shop in Rugeley, Staffordshire.  They run a mailorder and also a label which has just issued a couple of excellent Emidisc acetates from the 60s (bought from a former Sounds journalist, apparently) on 45 for the first time.  "Tangled Web" by Bedford's Spell is a lilting dose of soft psych from the same orbit as The Action's trippier, less overtly soul-influenced material:

"

Equally enjoyable is "Train" by John Williams which oscillates between a tightly wound Brit R&B shuffle and looser, more psychedelic structures: 

How something so distinctive wasn't deemed worthy of a release at the time is a mystery!  Those Old Records have to be commended for allowing the music of John Williams and Spell to finally take its rightful place on 7" vinyl.  Sterling stuff.

Marshall Scott Etc.

For many years now, Saturday mornings have started with sleep-listening to Brian Matthew's Sounds of the Sixties on BBC Radio 2.  As with Peel's show, he plays such a wide range of material that I never like everything but every once in a while he'll play something new (to me) that cuts through the haze and has me scurrying to the internet.  This week it was romantic beat merchants Marshall Scott Etc..  Unusually, my search turned up a great British Pathe video in which the group step Mr Benn-style straight out of a gentleman's outfitters - check the guitarist's tartan trews! - into the grounds of Woburn Abbey to mime their tender 'Same Old Feeling' single:

Looks like the drummer went to the Ringo Starr school of larking about and smiling!  With its easy charm and sun-steeped melody, it's hard to believe that 'Same Old Feeling' wasn't the handiwork of a bunch of tanned Californians.  Now to find a copy on 7"...

"I'm Just Trying"

20 years ago I figured that it was high time I bought an Easybeats record.  After I'd played it, however, I puffed out my cheeks. a bit underwhelmed. and decided that they were nothing special.  As time's gone on, though, I've come to realise that I was way too hasty in writing them off.  Today has seen this classy slice of soul-pop from the "Son of Easyfever" e.p. (Raven Records, 1980) get play after play:

I swear I forgot myself and danced embarrassingly as it spun on the turntable in Mixed Up Records.  Whoops!  One for the 'playing out' box, I reckon.

Stuck In The 60s

BBC Radio 5Live ran a feature the other night about how Environmental Health officers had clocked crazy 100+ db sound levels during showings of recent blockbuster movies such as Godzilla.  Of course, I tut-tutted in agreement.  I mean, who hasn't come out of the cinema in the last few years rubbing their ears and moaning about it?  Of course, I am a total hypocrite when it comes to volume.  If 5Live ran a similar feature on the volume of music played in cars, I would be totally busted.  Tonight I stopped by the ever-wonderful Monorail Music and picked up a bunch of hot new vinyl spins and one second hand cd - this - and you should have heard the loopy volume at which I repeatedly played Bob & Kit's incredible 60s jangler "You've Gotta Stop" (HBR):

The first thing I did when I got home was to fire up ebay and search for an original 7".  Unfortunately, there's only 1 copy for sale and it's quite visibly scratched so I won't be investing in that.  I'm willing to wait for a pristine(ish?) copy.  After all, thanks to the impeccable taste of the cd's compiler, Nick Saloman of The Bevis Frond, I can blast it on cd till my ears stop working completely.

Another recent 60s cut to have won my heart is The Striders' adorably perky "There's A Storm Coming" (Columbia):

A tenner secured me a(n allegedly - we'll see when it arrives!) Mint- copy.  The slightly wimpy songs from the mid-60s that straddle the line between garage and pure pop are just so endearing.

Finally, while revisiting Ace Records' ridiculously great "Boy Trouble: Garpax Girls", this Rev-lons stunner swelled my heart all over again:

If "Whirlwind" doesn't have ya shufflin' and a handclappin' and a ooh-ooh-in' then just how do you get your kicks?

There's a fair chance the above 3 songs will form my Three In A Row suggestion for Brian Matthew's Sounds of the Sixties on BBC Radio 2.  Yeah, let's do this!

The Easybeats "Land of Make Believe"

Initial copies of Veronica Falls' majestic "Waithing For Something To Happen" sold through Monorail came with a cd-r compiled, I think, by James Hoare from the group.  It was almost entirely great but the song which pinned itself to my heart was The Easybeats' "Land of Make Believe".  The Easybeats are one of those 60s acts who I've always vaguely liked but never truly loved.  Sure, I get a little frisson when Brian Matthew plays "Friday On My Mind" on Sounds of the Sixties  and I've danced cheerfully to a few of their other songs over the years but nothing has come close to hitting me as hard as "Land of Make Believe" has.  Its intro and first 2 lines are so plaintive and brilliant:

In the land of make believe you are all mine
In the land of make believe I'm doin' fine

The melody is to die for, too.  Some of the details in the production shouldn't work but do such as the rippling piano, for instance; ordinarily I'd hate that.  The Italian 7" of "The Land of Make Believe" I bought recently features a slightly different arrangement with some dramatic strings added that slightly diminish the impact of the chugging guitar bit towards the end (~2mins 12secs) for me.  It's still a topper but the (album?) version on James Hoare's compilation is somehow the more romantic and hence better version.

The Rose Garden

Everybody needs friends, right?  Friends do nice things for each other don't they? Recently, a friend (thanks Krister, I owe you one!) did me a real favour by recommending this majestic song:

Listen to that opening section - it's like early Clientele in its infinite, dreamy softness!  From then on it just gets all emotional and rushes on a Dillard & Clark run with little vocal touches that spark thoughts of how Glasgow's The Orchids frequently manage to hit heights of pure feeling that few other groups could ever hope to reach.  These days, when I hear a new 60s song, a quick check of ebay usually reveals that I'll need to part with a small fortune to buy  it on original vinyl.  This time, however, original copies don't cost too much and are pretty easy to come by.  My 'unplayed' DJ copy cost a mere 8 US dollars plus postage.   When it arrives  there's absolutely no chance that it won't be the highlight of that day and most likely the week.

Maxine Darren "Don't You Know"

Tsk! Tsk! Look at the mess of this place... there are cd's strewn all over the place.  Ah, the joys of making mix cd's (it's not all podcasts and Spotify playlists in 2011!) for chums.  Of course, the real joy of compiling mixes is re-discovering all those semi-forgotten songs that made your heart stop when first you heard them.  Today, Maxine Darren's "Don't You Know"*  has happened to me all over again.  I was totally charmed by it back in the late '90s when I was mad keen on accumulating all 10 volumes of Sequel's Here Come The Girls series. It still possesses one of the finest intro/outro guitar lines I've ever heard; as precise and pretty as a little cut glass ornament.  Dig, too, those doo-wop style backing vocals and the key change that ratchets up the desperation to 11.  The 16 year old Maxine's voice is just the cutest thing and practically made for delivering the melodramatic 'dying'/'crying' teen heartache lyrics.  Maxine Darren was certainly one swinging little mademoiselle!

(* - it's currently available on this fine cd)