Camellia Hartman & The Soulful Saints "Return The Favor" (Dala)

Rejoice! Camellia Hartman and The Soulful Saints are back with a soulful stroller to caress away our cares. "Return The Favor" is another classy, nuanced affair with enough 60s sunshine pop embellishments to warm the heart. The lyrics are endearingly sweet e.g.

"Hold me nearer
Kiss me sweeter
I'll be sure to return the favor
Love me tender
Always remember
That I'll be sure to return the favor"



For now, "Return The Favor" is available only as a download but there's talk of it being paired with Camellia's certified smash from 2017, "Breathin' Hard Over You", on a 7" in the near(ish?) future. Just sit back and watch the soul DJs and Shacks fans elbowing each other outta the way to snap up a copy!

Jerry Naylor "City Lights" (Kent)

One of the down sides of labels such as Kent using generic sleeves for their releases (or, more accurately, their various series of releases) is that middle-aged dumplings such as Not Unloved can forget which ones they already have when rifling through the 7"s at their local record shop. Thankfully, the lovely staff at Monorail Music ensured that Jerry Naylor's effervescent "City Lights" reissue didn't pass me by as would have been the case had I been left to my own devices. It's irresistibly upbeat with a great production (trumpets!, strings! etc.). If anything can lift the gloom of spring, 2018, "City Lights" can. It came as something of a surprise to learn that Naylor was one of Buddy Holly's backing group, The Crickets.

Kent have paired "City Lights" with Johnny Praye's strident"Can't Get Too Much Love". Another winner, it  had Not Unloved (unwisely) dusting off the old falsetto to sing along with the backing vocals - not pretty!

It's Holiday Season!

Marva Holiday season, that is.  In October The Quietus ran former Boo Radleys fellow Martin Carr's Baker's Dozen.  One of his choices was Marva's irresistible mover"It's Written All Over My Face":

It's such a joyous piece of music with lots of little euphoric builds that sweep you along and before you know it your feet are moving and your hands are clapping.  It was originally released on GNP Crescendo of Hollywood, USA.  The only other records I have on that label are by Sky Saxon's keyboard riddled garage troupe The Seeds; you have to admire the breadth of some 60s labels!  Helpfully, a couple of years ago it was included on Kent Records' cd "The Cleethorpes Northern Soul Weekender 1993-2012 20 Soulful Celebrations".  The other Marva Holiday 7" to have found its way into my record box is a split with The Magicians as part of the aforementioned Kent's Select series.

"Rising Higher" is a brilliantly brassy blast of accessible pop soul with some great Impressions-style male backing vocals:

Like "It's Written All Over My Face", it was penned by the multi-talented Mirwood / Motown staffer Sherlie Matthews whose place in my heart was assured the instant I heard and flipped for The Belles' "Don't Pretend".  "Rising Higher" was included with a host of other treats on the "Kent 30: Best Of Kent Northern 1982-2012" cd.  The entire staff at Kent Records really should be getting recognised in the upcoming Queen's New Year Honours List shouldn't they?  Sir Ady Croasdell would look great on the 6Ts flyers!

Sari and The Shalimars "It's So Lonely (Being Together)"

"It's so lonely being together

 Knowing in our hearts
 We're two worlds apart"

Sigh. So many of us have experienced the oxymoron of the title/chorus.  The great thing about so much up tempo 60s soul music, of course, is that it gives you a cheery melody to sing while you're sweating out your woes on the dancefloor:

By Northern Soul standards, copies that aren't too battle-scarred can be snapped-up for buttons.  About a tenner for a song with such a pleasingly punchy arrangement, a heart-swelling key change and lashings of great backing vocals doesn't sound like the worst value for money to me.  

Tommy Rodgers "I'll Tell It To The Wind"

Ebay itself must have laughed when I speculatively bid 15.25 GBP (note that extra 25p just in case somebody was stoopid enough to bid 15 quid on the nose!) for a near mint copy of Tommy Rodgers' incredible "I'll Tell It To The Wind" as it usually fetches something in the region of 200 quid.  I crossed my fingers all day that nobody else had noticed it.  As if that was ever going to happen in 2014!  Now this it's at 63 quid I've stopped looking.  At least I can still blast it on repeat via good ole dependable YouTube:

There's something about the way Tommys sings "There's something about you that makes me weak" that makes me weak.  That little fragment of melody is the hook that elevates it above hundreds of other similar songs, for me.  Tonight I'll no doubt dream that I 'won' the auction and wake up a little deflated that I didn't.  Human brains are cruel like that.

Update: The seller pocketed 88 GBP for the 7" - a long way short of the 200+ of previous sales.

I Wish You The World of Happiness

If Beatin' Rhythm in Manchester wasn't quite the palace of delights it had been the last time I visited it 4 years ago, I still came away an essential reissue 45 (on the shop's own label) of a Northern Soul diamond:

Eddie Holman and James Solomon's lyrics recount a moving tale of stoicism in the face of rejection:

The world's just not the same

At least not to me

'cause I won't see you again

You're setting me free

But I wish you the world of happiness

Though you're hurting me

Musically, it's archetypal mid-60s dancefloor-targeted soul.  It could prove a pricey acquisition as, if I keep playing it so much, I'll need to buy a rug to cover the living room carpet's threadbare patch.

The Tonettes "I Gotta Know"

The latest instalment of Numero Group's Eccentric Soul series, The Dynamic Label, is, from start to finish, brilliant.  There are numerous show-stealers among its 21 tracks but the real diamond is The Tonettes' "I Gotta Know".  Pitched somewhere between The Cookies and The Supremes, it's as glowing a slice of girl group soul as I've heard in quite a while.  How I wish I had it on 7"!  John Manship currently has a copy rated at E+/E+ for 150 quid.  Even if I emptied my 'Monorail Money' piggy bank, I would still be about 145 quid short so I'll have to make do with having it on the compilation which, as hardships go, is pretty easy to bear.  Thanks, Numero Group - you've put some pep in my step a fair few times this spring!

Mr. Creator

Kent time again! Their Apollas compilation had been winking at me from the cd racks for a while and when I finally took the time to do my homework and heard "Mr. Creator" I knew I'd be cheerfully parting with cash for it (see, some folks still spend money on physical releases!).  Occupying similar musical ground to The Flirtations' "Nothing But A Heartache", it benefits from one of the best (re?)mastering jobs I can recall hearing; so powerful, so bright.  Lead singer Leola Jiles glides effortlessly through the gears from girl group sweetness to gospel wailing without overdoing it in either direction.  How I'd love an original 45!  Hopefully a fair proportion of the cd's other 24 tracks are similarly immense.  Kent wins again!

Delores Hall "Good Lovin' Man"

There could be hard times ahead so Not Unloved is stockpiling records with the fervour of a mad-eyed doomsday cultist preparing for The Armageddon.  Delores Hall's knockabout "Good Lovin' Man" was bought in haste after hearing it on Patrick Foisy's amusingly named Parka Avenue blog but it's such a fun, zesty record that there will certainly be no repenting at leisure.

Unplayed Keymen Records originals are kicking about on ebay for around the tenner mark.  Considering that a lot of soul reissues cost roughly that these days it's worth a punt, I'd say.

Ortheia Barnes "Never Ever Leave Me"

Kent Records releases so many 45s that it's easy to fall behind.  That and the fact that the price of their singles has gone up in the last year or two to the point where you don't get much (if any!) change out of a tenner mean that, unless a chap's pockets are as deep as Daddy Warbucks', it's best to do a bit or research before disbursing any cash.  The conclusion of tonight's bout of online rummaging is that Ortheia Barnes' "Never Ever Leave Me" is an essential purchase.  It may not be a Detroit stomper but what it lacks in tempo it makes up for in atmosphere and class.  That it's classy is no surprise given that it's a Dave Hamilton co-write/production.  Hamilton's productions often feature something a little a different and in this case it's a deliciously restrained flute solo which ends with a cheery flutter. It'd be an ideal early evening number for an All-nighter in a once glorious ballroom. In that context it would probably have me wiping a convenient speck of dust from my eye.

The Demures

Somehow, more than 40 years after Northern Soul became a phenomenon in the UK, incredible unreleased songs are still being unearthed in record company vaults and played at soul clubs.  For example, Ady Croasdell - legendary DJ and the man behind an absurd number of great Kent Records compilations - has recently started including a hitherto unreleased master of The Demures' "I Wanna Be Good To You" in his DJ sets.  Helpfully, for those of us not fortunate enough to be able to spend hours rifling through the vaults of defunct record companies, he's posted a clip from it on the 6T's site. From the excerpt it's a wonderful, bouncing tune with a strong melody and cracking vocal performances.  It really gets you wondering just how something so brilliant never saw a release in the mid-60s.  To Not Unloved, it's at least as good as their (assuming it's the same group!) smashing but better known "Raining Teardrops" single:

To fund the purchase of an original of "Raining Teardrops" (check the most recent sale price here) I would have to sell a kidney so it's impossible that I could ever afford an original demo/white label of "I Wanna Good Be To You" were one ever to show up for sale.  Let's just hope that Ady has shared the sample in order to whet the appetite before Kent issues it on 7"!

While I'm on the subject of Kent Records/6T's, the poster for William Bell's appearance at June's Cleethorpes Weekender is pretty nifty:

Oh, and 6T's is putting on the guy behind this and this at London's 100 Club in July.  Amazing!

The Chalfontes "He Loves Me"

How I managed to completely forget the existence of a tune as all-conquering as "He Loves Me" by Detroit's The Chalfontes is a source of real puzzlement to me.  I mean, practically every single sliver of sound information encoded in its grooves is in some way memorable:

• The ominous bass grumble at the start is so far from standard issue as to make it memorable.
• The epic Dave Hamilton production (he of the brilliant "Dave Hamilton's Detroit Dancers" series on Kent  Records) with all its builds and fades and little instrumental dialogues is truly memorable.
• The strident, unrelenting beat is memorable.
• The guitar solo - almost post-punk in its buttoned-down, geometric austerity - is memorable.
• Every impassioned word sung be it by the lead singer (as yet Google hasn't turned up her name, shame) or the subtle then soaring backing singers is memorable.
• Yup, "He Loves Me" is a masterpiece; unforgettable.

For me it's not far off Rose Batiste's "Hit and Run" and The Flirtations' "Nothing But A Heartache" in the female-voiced pop soul stakes.  To ensure that it never slips my mind again, I've just bought a physical copy - a 70s reissue 7", not a 60s original, unfortunately - and have every intention of wearing it out.  If this episode has taught me anything, it's that a bookmarked YouTube link still isn't enough for me.  I still need to pay money for a song on a physical format for it to feel that it's a significant, memorable part of my life.

Tower of Song

Last weekend's Blackpool Tower Soul Weekender was an unalloyed joy.  Of course the music was immense and invigorating and moving, that was to be expected, but the unseasonably wonderful weather and the sheer beauty of the spectacle of hundreds of people bobbing in unison in a grand old ballroom came as pleasant surprises.  There were some seriously brilliant dancers.  Dancers whose feet seemed to move as fast as hummingbirds' wings.  I could've watched Sam Evans - a former World Northern Soul Dancing champion - dancing for hours.  She put on quite a masterclass early on Sunday afternoon when a lot of folks were still out enjoying the tail end of the sunshine and would've given the much younger Steven Cootes (of Edinburgh...yessss!) who a little controversially took this year's crown, a right run for his money.  Never having been to a weekender before, I got a bit of a jolt when, just flipping through a box of records, I put my hand on an original Revilot issue of Rose Batiste's masterpiece "Hit and Run" with the £250.00 price tag written casually in marker pen on its greying card protector.  Part of me wanted to recklessly throw down a bunch of tenners then and there but sense and the fact that I own a perfectly good copy of the '90s Goldmine reissue prevailed.  The most expensive record I saw?  That was Don Varner's rolllicking "Tear Stained Face" which was priced at £800.00.  I stopped looking after that.  I'm well aware that rare Northern Soul records can fetch quite a sum on ebay or John Manship but to see such madly expensive 7"s just sitting in a box on a bar table and not behind toughened safety glass was wild.  Billy Butler's "The Right Track" became the anthem of the weekend with J and I stomping the deserted streets of Blackpool chanting its emphatic string part over and over after hearing it on Sunday afternoon in the main ballroom.  When played at ballroom wrecking volume it became a Delete button for all the other melodies onto which I'd been vainly clinging in the hope of identifying some day.  Why it wasn't on either volume of Kent's "Okeh: A Northern Soul Obsession"  I'll never know*.  So, a brilliant experience and one that I'd love to repeat next year.

* - Actually, that's not strictly true.  I'm sure that the reason why it wasn't included is because the smart folks at Kent would like you to buy their Billy Butler cd, too!

Club nights

Reading the recent Quietus article about Divine has precipitated another small bout of historical jealousy.  To be honest, I never really realised, despite living in the west of Scotland all my days, what an institution it was. I somehow never really twigged when it was on and, I guess, never felt part of it.  Given my time again, I'd probably be a regular at the Vic Bar and would no doubt have discovered a load of the good stuff earlier but I wasn't and I didn't.  That article got me wistfully pondering over which club nights meant the most to me and without doubt the first Friday Street in the fairly dingy pre-refurbishment basement of Blackfriars was the best club night I've ever attended.  I went on my own in my new red and white gingham Ben Sherman button-down (buttoned right up, of course - didn't want to show too much Daz white flesh!), black Levi's and a single breasted grey sports jacket (4 buttons, 3 on each cuff).  As I walked in a stranger said, "You look like a young Andrew Loog Oldham".  I wasn't quite sure if that was meant as a compliment as I'd never really seen a picture of the chap.  Still, I smiled back and got a Diet Coke and sat down at an unoccupied table.  Early in the evening the music was just incredible.  It was like the DJ had a Dansette stacked with the 50 best female-voiced Northern Soul records I'd ever heard.  As the place filled up the dancefloor got ever busier. It was pretty exhilarating.  Maybe a third of the way through the evening, a chap in a green bomber jacket approached me saying that he was from the Mad Monks Scooter Club and that if I was on my own I could join them.  Of course, I was way too shy to and politely declined his kind offer.  I guess the word 'Mad' in the name of his scooter club scared me more than a little.  As the evening progressed, however, he came over and asked me once more to join them and I felt that it would be rude to turn him down again so I went over and sat with them.  Everyone was so friendly and so passionate about scootering, Mods and Northern Soul.  I got bombarded with questions as they sized me up:

Mad Monks: What's your favourite Kinks record?
Brogues: Er...I don't know. I don't own any.
Mad Monks: Do you like The Small Faces?
Brogues: Only the odd tune here and there and I kinda hate all that "Lazy Sunday Awftahnoon-ah" stuff.
Mad Monks: You must like The Who, then.  What's your favourite Who album?
Brogues: Um...not sure...I don't think I've heard any.

By this time the guy who'd invited me to join them was a little nonplussed so asked why I was at Friday Street.  When I told him that I'd wanted to hear Northern Soul and that I'd never been to soul/ Mod night before he and the rest of the Mad Monks took on the role of educators and I was deluged with advice on what records to buy and what nights/events to attend next.  It transpired later that a bunch of them were into Sarah Records and The Field Mice, in particular.  When he heard us talking about The Field Mice, one burly former steelworker even started quizzing me about "The Waaaaah cd".  I certainly wasn't expecting that! They dug The Pastels and The Jesus and Mary Chain, too, so there was plenty common ground.  As they and the rest of the clientele got tipsier, the dancing got wilder, the jokes got funnier and the night climaxed with old and young - Monks included - atop tables, arms aloft singing along to The Small Faces.  It was completely glorious. I couldn't help comparing it to the unsatisfying indie nights that I'd recently attended at which nobody smiled at you never mind spoke to you.  As the lights came up I was invited to scooter bashes and rideouts and get-togethers that I knew I was too bashful and, frankly, too square to ever attend but it was just nice to be asked.  The Mad Monks' enthusiasm was genuinely moving and more than a little like that of evangelical missionaries seeking new converts.  Over the years I've been to a fair few Friday Street evenings at its various city centre venues and have always had a champion time. I still feel like an outsider as I'm not the sort to join a club and adopt a way of life, but I never feel uncomfortable and, if I'm on my own, somebody always reaches out.  From what I gather, by coincidence, the last Divine at the Vic Bar the other week also ended on The Small Faces.   Part of me wishes I'd gone to that but a larger part of me is glad that I didn't as, well, it would've been akin to going to a football Cup final when your team gets there without having attended that 2nd round tie in Brechin on the dank second Saturday in January.

Here's the song I associate most with Friday Street having heard it there first.  If it's played late enough in the evening, you can guarantee folks'll be frugging wildly whilst windmilling like Pete Townshend to it!  It always comes back to The Who...

"Hey!!" by Barbara Mercer

It was pathetic, really.  I'd lost out in yet another ebay auction (I make that 3 times this year) for a reissue of the modern soul record I want most so, like a spoilt kid hellbent on getting a new toy and who won't take no for an answer, I looked for something, anything else that would satisfy my need for a soul record right there and then and this is what I bought:

Just listen to that voice!  Have you ever heard anything softer in your whole time on this earth?  I'm not sure I have!  Burg'n'Beans' production is classy and refined but has just the right amount of sway to banish the inertia from your feet.  I'm pretty sure I'll be "walking round on a cloud" when the postman slides it through my letterbox later this week.  As with The Petticoats 7" (see yesterday's post), it's the kind of record you want to put next to your bed so that it's the first thing you see when you prise open your leaden eyes of a morning; a reminder of the good stuff in this (golden) world.