Kickstand

 When was the last time someone mentioned the group Kickstand in your presence? I'll hazard that it wasn't yesterday which is a real shame as in the mid-90s they were one of the best pop bands around for Not Unloved's money. Unfortunately, neither of their albums - 1994's "Kickstand" (Queenie Label) and 1997's "Autostrada" (Little Teddy) - was released on vinyl so modern day collectors who eschew the lowly, unloved CD format are unlikely to seek them out. Both albums are treasures troves stuffed with sweet, unassuming pop that takes its cues from Young Marble Giants (they faithfully covered "Colossal Youth" on their debut) and the K Records school of endearing naivety. Kickstand comprised the Colichio twins, Torry and Tammi, and Half Japanese member and chronicler, Jeff Feuerzeig (who went on to greater fame when he made 2005's brilliant "The Devil And Daniel Johnston"). They collaborated with some real heavyweights of the 90s independent scene with Jad Fair, Dean Wareham and Hamish Kilgour (R.I.P.) donating their talents at various points. Kilgour's appearance on the second album came as no surprise as they had covered The Clean's"Tally Ho" on the first (Not Unloved's introduction to that absolute classic  - cheers, Kickstand...I owe ya!). Unusually for the time, Kickstand didn't leave behind a raft of 45s on an array of small but brilliant labels. Again, that's a shame as they had so many songs that would've made perfect a-sides and some great covers (Felt! The Undertones! Daniel Johnston!) that would've made ideal b-sides. Over the years, one song above all has kept Kickstand somewhere near the front of Not Unloved's memory at least on the 31st of December every year (I post it on Twitter most years):

"New Year's Day" was a proper mixtape staple at the time. For some reason, Kickstand were keen on flying saucers (Torry was even a member of the group Flying Saucer):

Every now and then I daydream of reactivating Not Unloved Records to restore this music to print although, realistically, a label like World of Echo would probably do a much better job and reach a wider audience having established a track record through recent reissues of Kickstand's contemporaries such as The Shapiros, The Cat's Miaow and, in the near future, Hydroplane. For the time being, the curious are urged to hold their nose and snap up the shiny lil discs.

XXOO "How Will I Know"

Jad Fair earned a place in my affections courtesy of his two dazzling collaborations with The Pastels.  Singing the entirety of "This Could Be The Night" loudly in my best approximation of Jad's voice was for years one of the simplest, most satisfying pleasures in my life.  By the early 90s Jad and his group Half Japanese had already amassed a sizeable catalogue of releases so I bought a few but suspected that I'd never have either the money or the opportunity to own too many more.  The good thing about only having bits and pieces is that there's still plenty of wonderful Jad records left to discover.  For example, I recently stumbled across "How Will I Know" by XXOO  (1982, Press Records) which, it turned out, was a pseudonym for Half Japanese.  It's quickly become one of my favourite of Jad's releases.  It has some of the most brilliantly naive lyrics about love:

"How will I know when I'm really in love?
 Will I hear bells rings?
 Will my heart pound hard?"

They really belong on, say, a pre-Beatles Shelley Fabares 45 but when put with a stumbling backing that is pure early K Records tape, the result is completely charming.

I love the way it winds down like a clockwork toy running out of energy.  I plan to play the copy that arrived today lots.  I don't know if XXOO meant kiss kiss hug hug in 1982 but the next time Jad comes to Glasgow, that's what he'll get as a thank you for this single.

Jad Fair @ Stereo, Glasgow (31/05/2011)

So, Jad Fair played and, as expected, it was a bit of a riot!  With Jad's shows, there's always a story to tell afterwards and this time that story concerns his...er...bendy guitar (!).  I'm pretty sure I've never witnessed a show where the guitarist physically bent the neck of his guitar in the pursuit of sound and sensation and I've certainly never seen a show which finished with the guitarist playing an instrument whose neck has become separated from its body before!  Crazily, the neck bending antics yielded some great sounds.  If someone had blindfolded me and told me that I was in fact listening to a live Jad Fair album that had been left next to a piping hot radiator all winter, I would've believed them.  His set was studded with frequently aired gems from yesteryear like "Red Dress", "This Could Be The Night" "Roman Candles" and "Bashful Jad" but all were made lemon fresh by Jad's loopy-eyed energy and the odd lyrical tweak.  His Jad-libs (sorry - couldn't resist that!) were a hoot e.g. "I may not a Beatle, but I have a Beatle's needs" and from the length of some of his mid-line pauses, he could, in a Crocodile Dundee style, say to Harold Pinter, "Ha ha ha, that's not a pause.  THAT's a pause!".  Gilles Rieder on drums was a rock, all maximum feel and, crucially, minimum chaos - a great complement to Jad.  A true highlight was when the pair left the stage and Jad, breathing hard and sweating from his exertions, sang a cappella while Rieder drummed on the stage-front and then the floor.  Tremendous!

Bashful Jad in Glasgow!

Not long now till Jad Fair lands in Glasgow!  I can't think of a better way to make the most of the spring bank holiday - Monday, 30th May - than nipping along to Stereo at ~7pm for some hot Jad action.  Like a lot of the good stuff in my life, I have The Pastels to thank for bringing Jad to my attention via their two heart melting collaborations with him.  I have so many great memories of Jad's previous Glasgow shows.  For example, being at The Art School at silly o'clock in the morning watching a punk and a skinhead merrily (and I do mean 'merrily', they were having a fine old time!) kicking each other while Jad's group, Half Japanese, ground (musically, not in the Beyonce booty-shaking sense!) away on stage or seeing the cutest, most sweetly gormless baby popping up periodically at the window of Monorail when he played an in-store there.  And the less said about the time I 'lost' my spectacles during the disco after his show with Teenage Fanclub aboard the Renfew Ferry, the better!  If the optimistic, packet-of-Dolly Mixtures colours of Jad's most recent artworks (see the pic, above) are any guide, 2011 finds him on fine form.  I do hope so.  Roll on Monday!