Violent Playground to be released on DVD

At the boy's home, his gang is having a rock'n roll party. The radiogram is going full blast, the room is full of frenzied boys.

McCallum's face grows strained. He leaves Baker in the doorway and joins the gang, who make way for him in the centre of the floor.

It looks like Violent Playground (screenplay by James Kennaway and directed by Basil Dearden) is finally going to be released on legitimate DVD, mid January 2012. I don't know whether the fact that the film culminates in a siege at a school may have delayed its release on DVD but, as might be expected from Dearden, this is not merely a sensational piece. I've written about the film in passing in some earlier posts but thought it might be worth collecting those scattered notes here - not a full-blown review, just some observations which may be of interest.

The title music, a horrible cinema-type idea of rock'n'roll, was written, incredibly, by Paddy Roberts (the South African Noel Coward to Jake Thackray's Yorkshire model), but there is, nevertheless, an extremely powerful and disturbing scene in which young David McCallum and his hoodlum friends, sans females, do a strange kind of trancelike dance to this would-be crazy beat as a gesture of defiance and contempt when Stanley Baker's juvenile liaison officer dares to enter his home.

The film, written by James Kennaway (Tunes of Glory) has elements of On the Waterfront - there's a moment where you feel McCallum's character could go either way but Peter Cushing (in the Karl Malden role, if you will) misses his opportunity - and pays pretty heavily later.

The ending, as with Jame Kennaway's screenplay for Tunes of Glory, directed by Ronald Neame, is bleak - even bleaker, you might say, than Tunes of Glory, in which Jock's crack up (superbly portrayed by Alec Guinness) at least indicates he feels the enormity of what he has done. McCallum's character in Violent Playground proves to be beyond redemption, however, so at the film's conclusion the focus shifts to saving his younger brother and sister from going the same way.

But it's that scene in which McCallum and his pals obscurely threaten lawman Stanley Baker which is the most memorable, and the fact that they do it not with knives and fisticuffs but by the simple device of surrendering absolutely to the hypnotic effect of the devil's music.

There, in a single scene, you have rock'n'roll from a terrified adult perspective: the boys do nothing, beyond swaying a little; maybe they're even so stoned (metaphorically speaking) by the music that they're incapable of violence, but that makes it more disturbing, somehow. Throughout that scene they are, to Baker's Juvenile Liaison Officer, an alien tribe, wholly unknowable, not the kind of loveable artful dodgers you can at least get some kind of a handle on. No chucklingly administered cuff on the ear will tame these demons in waiting.

It's a great cinema moment, however unfair it may be, as this article, quoted at the start of this post, suggests:

A piece on the film on the BFI's screenonline website (readable in full here) makes clear that

James Kennaway's script was inspired by an actual experiment that was carried out in Liverpool in 1949.There, a small number of policemen were rebranded Juvenile Liaison Officers and given specific responsibilities to familiarise themselves with local youth crime from the incidents themselves down to the root causes (a theory that anticipated the Labour Party's "tough on crime, tough on the causes of crime" approach unveiled over forty years later).

Interesting to note, too, the response of locals (the film is set in Liverpool) to the filming:

In order to emphasise an almost drama-documentary feel of authenticity, Dearden shot the film on location amongst the art deco tenements of Gerard Gardens, believing them to be representative of a Liverpool slum. However, his set dressers nonetheless had to exaggerate the dilapidation, and the locals later objected to the way their home had been co-opted into Dearden and Kennaway's central thesis that poverty breeds crime.

 

Find lots of pics from Violent Playground on the davidmccallumfansonline website here; several images above have been taken from there. The Reel Streets website, here, has then and now images of the Liverpool locations used in the film.

Below, Gerard Gardens shortly before demolition: 

Original posts mentioning Violent Playground: 

On Again! On Again! Or Strangers on a Train (Jake Thackray - the connection is that a Thackray-loving penfriend lived in nearby Caryl Gardens)

Gnome Thoughts ... 5 (Part of a series speculating on David Bowie's early musical influences, this mentions Paddy Roberts) 

Gnome Thoughts ... 6 (David Bowie/Ken Pitt culture clash)

Spencer Leigh and On the Beat to be axed?

If, like me, you like a range of popular music from the fifties onwards - and you probably do if you're reading this - I strongly advise you to listen to Spencer Leigh's programme On the Beat, broadcast on Saturday evenings on BBC Radio Merseyside, while you still can.(Links at end.)

Future programmes have been announced on his personal website until around mid-January, but after that it's anybody's guess how much longer the show will continue to be run.

This is as a result of cuts affecting the budget of BBC local radio. You can read a fuller account in a Liverpool Daily Post article here but the gist is that the BBC is trying to save 20% from its overall budget and local stations will be more likely to share programmes with other regions, especially in the evenings. And at weekends there might be shared programming from 1pm - apart from the football, which is sacrosanct, apparently. Spencer has said in recent editions of his show that he is trying to cram as many interviews in as possible in the available shows in case that's his last chance.

The report says there is anger at the station that Radio Merseyside, "the most popular BBC local radio station outside London", is being targeted. If On the Beat does end, this will be a real pity - and I speak not as a local, but a listener  in London for the last year via BBC iplayer.

I only started listening in the last year or so, partly because of an interview with Alan Klein which I have made use of on this blog, but I've really grown to enjoy Spencer's wide-ranging musical knowledge and his unshowy delivery. Performers seem to open up to him because they know that he knows his stuff and he cares about it. He has written books about various aspects of pop music: he has a particular interest in Merseybeat and the Beatles but his knowledge of rock'n'roll and 60s/70s pop seems pretty far-reaching.

One small detail, because it was an area I knew something about, was that his was the only UK obituary of Pookie Hudson (in the Independent) which gave any indication of familiarity with the Spaniels biography. And recently on a Steve Cropper interview he was able to make the leap between the Beatles' 12 Bar Original and Green (not Glass) Onions. Not to mention a discussion with (I think) one of the Searchers about just what sort of kiss it was in Sweets For My Sweet which "thrilled me so." Or pointing out the pinch from the Diamonds' version of Little Darling at the end of the Beatles' Misery.

Do these things matter? Yes, because they indicate the knowledge below the surface. Small moments but highly significant. And the programme isn't parochial. Yes, it's partly about announcing local gigs and his knowledge of Merseybeat and the Beatles will come to the fore but the scope of the programme is much wider than that. If you could weep when you think of the amount of time you have spent in the past listening to interviews by DJs or TV figures who haven't done their homework or simply don't have that much invested in the interaction then in a quiet sort of way Spencer will be a revelation because he does care - and he can make the musical connections which can illuminate things for the listener. Or he will just know the right song with which to make a comparison.

There is, in short, a foundation of wideranging knowledge which means that his interviews are more rewarding than in many other cases, and you can hear it in the performers' response to his questions: you can hear them relaxing and opening up, because it sounds like they're being talked to by a human being who has actually enjoyed their music, not a Radio Personality.

When I began writing this blog, almost two years ago now, I thought I would only write about doo wop, having a lot of messages from an old doo wop messageboard I wanted to preserve. I thought maybe I'd write the odd new piece as well, but keep it to doo wop.But over time, other music I'd grown up listening to crept in, and of course it was all connected. Why not just celebrate it all? Which is what I've tried to do.

And what I get most strongly from Spencer's show is that he too thinks all this, the broad sweep of popular music, is important. On his personal website he says of On the Beat:

My radio programmes contain many interviews with a wide variety of people from the world of pop, rock, country, soul ....everything in fact. I hope to provide an insight to their music, and give the listener an opportunity to hear the unusual as well as the familiar.

Well, for my money he does - frequently. And it will be a crying shame if money is what takes this longrunning, genuinely informative and delightful show off the air for good. In an email I wrote to Mick Ord, the station manager, I ended:

So if you can, Mr Ord, please don't allow the axe to fall. The
programme may promote local events, but I can confirm that to lovers
of the broad sweep of popular music its appeal is national - at the
very least.

Update 4th December:

BBC Trust consultation about local radio

If Radio Merseyside is your local station and you wish to show your support for On the Beat or other programmes under threat, you can  fill in a questionnaire which is part of  the BBC Trust's online consultation about local radio. The relevant page can be found here. It is open until December 21st.

You can answer as many or as few of the eight questions as you wish, but perhaps the most relevant for On the Beat is Question 7, which focuses on local radio's music and arts commitments. In particular, it asks how well you think you think your local BBC station does the following things:

•     provides opportunities for new and emerging musicians from the local area

•     supports local arts and music events by providing event information

•     plays a wide range of music, including music relevant to the local area.

Bear in mind that other Radio Merseyside programmes like Folk Scene are also under threat so if you enjoy other shows you may wish to mention them too. Question 8 is an "any other comments" one so anything else you want to say could be put there. 

And it's not just online: you can email or post your response. You can also call into Radio Merseyside reception in Hanover Street for more information. 

So if, like me, you value On the Beat, please take advantage of this opportunity to declare it to the BBC before the consultation deadline of December 21st.





Spencer Leigh's own website here. Click on "Radio Programme News" for a list of programmes and guests until January 14th 2012.
 His Radio Merseyside page here.  
 BBC iplayer link for most recent programme here. 

Update, 17th December: the iplayer link will take you to the 17th December show, which features an interview with Mike Redway, who recorded for the Woolworths label Embassy. More about his career here. There is also an interview with Richard White, author of a book about Dexy's Midnight Runners, who is currently working on a book about the spiritual and religious aspects of the Beatles music. There are also some pleasant musical surprises in the show. The next two shows will be Christmas and New Year specials. 

* A REMINDER THAT THE DEADLINE FOR RESPONDING TO THE BBC TRUST QUESTIONNAIRE (SEE ABOVE) IS NEXT WEDNESDAY - 21ST DECEMBER.*

Oh, and if you're wondering, the above is a song I was introduced to via On the Beat recently. 

Little Ern! (biography of Ernie Wise)

The public may be more aware of Eric Morecambe's showier role, but Ernie Wise was one half of Britain's most successful double act, contributing as much to the pair's success as his partner. His importance has been downplayed in recent years - indeed, there are times you could be forgiven for thinking that Morecambe must have been a solo act - so it's good news that a biography devoted to Ernie has just been published..You can read an article about it (not a review) by Sheena Hastings in the Yorkshire Post here.

My recommendation, however, at least for fellow devotees, has to be a qualified one. While the book certainly offers a fuller picture of Ernie's life post-Eric than I have read elsewhere, drawing on interviews with his widow Doreen, there's no getting away from the fact that much of the main part of the book, namely the pair's rise to fame, will already be familiar, thanks to the proliferation of books about the pair. Additional details and observations newly supplied by Doreen and other interviewees do illuminate certain aspects of an oft-told tale, but we're not exactly talking blinding revelations on every page.

Inevitably, then, it's the bookends - earliest days and declining years -which will be of most interest to diehard fans. Those early days have been covered in the past, but I don't think I've read elsewhere of Ernie's family's attitude to his cash-making potential: Doreen, uniquely placed to judge, sees Ernie's early years as a kind of slavery, that his childhood was stolen from him, explaining his later enjoyment in the "toys" which his success bought him.

The account of the later years serves to redress the balance of a mean-spirited documentary about Ernie, although it doesn't shy away from sadder moments: a member of the Edwin Drood cast talks of Ernie retreating to his dressing room when it becomes clear the show is going to fail, although the finger of blame is also pointed at the American production team who apparently decamped en masse immediately after the reviews instead of staying around to fix things.

This book does give you a clearer sense of Ernie than in other books to date: his relationship with his father and the forces in his early life which shaped him; the central importance of his marriage; his unselfishness as a feed; his unflappability as a negotiator on behalf of Eric and himself. To reclaim a phrase from that notorious documentary, let's hope that this book serves to remind readers of the importance of being Ernie. But there's no doubt you'll enjoy it as a whole a great deal more if you haven't already read one of the many joint biographies out there.

Earlier post about Eric and Ernie biopic here.
Extract from book here (warning: it's the Daily Mail).
Review on Morecambe and Wise tribute site here.

The Ravens on Matt the Cat's Juke in the Back show

An hour of the Ravens can be heard on Matt the Cat's Juke in the Back radio show by clicking here for the prx (Public Radio Exchange) website. Matt gives a history of the group in between their records on National.

I'm listening right now, and sound quality is pretty good to these ears.I'd forgotten how infectious and swinging Mahzel was - and as Matt says, that's not a record you will hear on the radio. If you are unfamiliar with the group, then they form a kind of musical bridge between the Mills Brothers and Ink Spots and the "proper", gospel-inflected doo wop groups. Jazzy and sophisticated, but with the unmistakable, fathoms-deep voice of Jimmy Ricks putting something earthier into the mix. There are corny elements, but the Cliff Adams Singers they ain't. And as with the Flamingos' and Moonglows' recordings on Chance a few years later, there is a pleasure in picking up details of the backing musicians. Not as bluesy, but not polite either.

And Matt has just announced that Billy Vera is guesting to talk about (I presume) Count Every Star. But I have to stop now, as There's No You has begun, and that will require all my concentration. Goodbye.

Oh, question: did the Flamingos hear the Ravens' recording of September Song? Listening to this just now, in better quality than I'm used to, is a delight.


Earlier post about the Ravens with some youtube clips here .

Reginald "Briz" Brisbon

Following on from the previous post, I have found a bit of information about Reginald "Briz" Brisbon online and a clip of him singing lead with Stevie Ray Vaughan's band, embedded later in this post. The above image comes from a Paul Simon concert.

What I remember most about him from the residency in Glasgow discussed elsewhere (link at end) is the extraordinary sense of propulsion he gave 14 Karat Soul; I think I read he had originally been a drummer, and it showed. In the above image from an album cover he is far left.

Try Them One More Time (14 Karat Soul)

Wow! I have just found some clips of my favourite ever doo wop revival group 14 Karat Soul, apparently reunited, however briefly, for a performance at the Morris Museum's Acappella & Doo Wop Concert #1, July 15, 2011, in Morristown, NJ, according to youtube (the group, originally came from New Jersey).

You can read my main piece about the group here, if you are so minded. But what makes this new find exciting - to me, anyway - is that when I saw them most nights of a one week residency in the early eighties, one of the songs was Take Me Back, Baby, which as far as I know was never recorded by them. And suddenly here it is below, the closest I will probably get to that initial thrill, even though Glenny T, the group's founder, is the sole constant across almost three decades:

Lounge Music

 

If you have arrived at this blog by conscious choice then it is not unreasonable to assume you might already be familiar with the studio recording of Ernie K Doe's Te-Ta-Te-Ta-Ta. So I won't insult you by embedding a youtube clip for that recording below.

Instead, please to bear witness to " 'The Emperor of the Universe' Ernie K-Doe in action at his Mother-in-Law Lounge with The Egg Yolk Jubilee. April 27th 2001". according to the youtube putter-upper. I like this clip for several reasons - reasons which may well seem self-evident after a viewing, but this time I want to insult your intelligence by telling you anyway..

American Hot Wax - essay by Charles Taylor

American Hot Wax

by Charles Taylor

It's 1959 and in Floyd Mutrux's film "American Hot Wax" the legendary disc jockey Alan Freed is staging his big rock 'n' roll show at Brooklyn's Paramount Theatre. It will be his last --only Freed doesn't know it yet. In the movie's B melodrama terms, the forces of repression, a/k/a/ the DA's office, suspicious of kids letting loose, and more specifically, of white kids and black kids letting loose together, are closing in for the kill. And Freed goes down fighting, telling them, "You can stop me. But you can never stop rock 'n roll."

The real story isn't so pretty. Driven off the air by the payola scandal, hounded by the government for tax evasion, Freed died, an alcoholic, in 1965 at the age of 43 -- two years more than Tim McIntire, the actor who plays him here, would live to be.

He's back - and this time ...

More from the Holman tribute act. This time he's gone from the sublime to ... well, you decide. But what makes these performances so appealing is that he seems able to take it seriously while revelling in the stupidity of it at the same time. And sterling support, of course, from sundry holy rollers. Whether such items are reasonable and appropriate inclusions on a blog which started out as a celebration of doo wop only you can decide - but hey, as quite a few doo wop records, not least the Medallions' The Letter, are both deadly serious and sublimely silly, then why the heck not? And that's swearing. Let's roll:

Mort Shuman interviewed in 1983 by Spencer Leigh (On the Beat)

This is to alert readers to a hugely enjoyable and informative interview with Mort Shuman conducted by Spencer Leigh and broadcast on last Saturday's On the Beat show on Radio Merseyside. It's available till September 17th on BBC iplayer (link below).

Spencer says at the beginning of the programme that the interview, conducted in 1983 in London in a house Shuman had just moved into, took place in a room which didn't yet have any curtains or much furniture and the recording was deemed too echoey for broadcast until recent technology made listenable. It certainly sounds okay now; there is at times a vague rumble in the background from builders working  but that's it.

It's available on iplayer until 8:02PM Sat, 17 Sep 2011 BST if you want to be precise about it, and I think it will be accessible to US readers as well.

Shuman is relaxed and charming, and not afraid to spill the beans - well, no, that's not true, in the sense that it's not really a "Lennon Remembers"-style tell-all scenario, but he does sound miffed, as well he might, with Andy Williams, who apparently announced Can't Get Used to Losing You on his television show as the B side of his record, to indicate his disdain for it. As Shuman says, he's entitled to his opinion but why record it then?

Un autre monde du vert or The Leitch Gatherer

In the interests of balance (see previous post) I have to embed this video of Eddie Holman. Bit of vocal showboating at the end, though he's entitled. But I have to warn you I'm going on a bit of a journey in this post. A pointless, unnecessary journey, so you may not want to stick around.

Ben E King on Letterman or Not Yet Awhile the Guiro

The great Ben E King on David Letterman in 2007, with a proper orchestral backing, maybe even bigger than on the original recording - and they've even taken the trouble to get the right percussion (no, it wasn't a guiro - read the posts below).

What a joy to hear - and long may he endure.

Hey There Lonely Girl by the Kenyon College Chasers featuring Nathan

 

If you have read much of this blog - no, no, why should you, absolutely; but if, as I say -and the thing is remotely possible - you have, then you will know that the clip embedded here is not something that I should, in the normal course of things, like.

Thomas Hardy goes doo wop

The Kool Gents featuring Dee Clark. Pic from Unca Marvy's highly recommended site - view page about the Kool Gents here. Superb, painstakingly assembled accounts of the tangled histories of many doo wop groups.

And you know how people always go on about how, ooh, if Charles Dickens was around today he'd be writing Eastenders - what, so Emmerdale or Corrie aren't good enough for him, then? As Don, or possibly Baby Boy Phil (and I don't mean Mitchell) would say:

You know the sort - always putting on ... airs.

Anyway, don't mind me. What I intended to say was please click below if you wish to hear a song which sounds, to these ears, anyway, like something Thomas Hardy would have written had he been born in rather different circumstances - always provided his first marriage had followed roughly the same trajectory, of course. If the youtube clip is not visible, click below.

Tonight Kathleen - the Valentines

No pontificating on this occasion, no stupid pun in the title - just one of my doo wop faves which continues to give pleasure. But of one thing I am certain: it is not Richard Barrett who is on trial. It is YOU.

Click below if you can't see the youtube clip.

The Optimists of Nine Elms

In writer/director Anthony Simmons' words, Peter Sellers gives "a great gut performance" in the 1973 film The Optimists of Nine Elms as the variety performer, reduced to busking, who is befriended - and ultimately redeemed - by two children.

It's a role which fits him like a glove, and it's surprising that it's taken so long for this film to be issued on DVD (and still not in its natural homeplace of Region 2), and that it's not one of the pieces automatically cited as an example of Sellers at his best.

That could be because of the associated negative connotations of a "children's film", which it could be argued this is. It certainly has lots of music (Lionel Bart and George Martin), and it mostly favours the children's point of view; indeed, the original, rather less complex, novel is told by one of the kids. But it's to Simmons' and Sellers' credit that there is very little in the film which is sentimental (meaning unearnt emotion), so the music could be seen as a way of sugaring the pill.

Don't by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller

Just found this clip, below, on youtube of Dave Gilmour's beautiful performance of Don't, the song associated with Elvis Presley, from the 2001 Leiber and Stoller concert at Hammersmith Apollo. Read my review of the show here.

Jerry Leiber

Very sad to read that Jerry Leiber (above, left) is dead.

Click here for a link to a 2001 interview with Leiber and Stoller at the NFT to promote a documentary about their work. I remember it well because I was present and even got to ask a question. It covers most bases and is well worth reading in full. Below are some brief extracts.

But if you're in a hurry, what with your busy schedule and lack of any sense of musical history, the gist is: they put in the hours and we all benefited.

Q: How unfinished was the song Stand By Me when Ben E King brought it to you, did you make the arrangement on the spot?

Gnome Thoughts ... 37 (Over the Wall We Go)

There hasn't been much to add to this series of posts about Bowie's early influences lately, but idly looking through post 16, about the original version of My Old Man's a Dustman (you can read it here), I suddenly remembered where I'd heard the term "nana" used on a record before, namely a composition by one ... David Bowie.

Stands back in amazement, as Eddie Large (ne McGinnis) used to say. Actually, the version I heard, on BBC Radio 2's Sounds of the Sixties a while back, was actually by Oscar (aka Paul Nicholas), embedded below, alongside what sounds like a pretty rough demo version by Bowie.

The arrangement on the Paul Nicholas recording is brassy and bouncy, calling to mind Quincy Jones's This is the Self Preservation Society, though I'm not sure, and can't be bothered to check, which came first..

While it would be a cheap gag to describe the "Oscar" version as winning, there is one detail which I can't resist pointing out as further evidence of what can only be termed intertwangularity in these posts. There is a direct  quotation from Spike Milligan's Wormwood Scrubs Tango produced by George Martin: we hear a prisoner who is desperately attempting to file the bars exhort the musicians, who've suddenly stopped: "Keep it up lads - another chorus and we're out."

Trouble is, that explicit invitation to compare this song with the material Martin produced for Peter Sellers or Spike Milligan in the fifites does show up the limitations of Master Jones's composition.

Radio programme featuring the Flamingos' Chance recordings

If you have explored further than the most recent posts in this blog, you will know that it was set up to archive posts from a doo wop messageboard, and that a favourite subject of those messages was the Flamingos' recording of Golden Teardrops. This was recorded for the small Chicago label Chance, before the group went to Parrot Records then found success at Chess Records.

Imagine: Ray Davies - Imaginary Man (BBC documentary) available again

As Julien Temple's documentary Ray Davies: Imaginary has just been repeated on the BBC, it's once again briefly available on BBC iplayer here, this time until 1:09AM Mon, 25th July. Below, a repost of my response to its original broadcast.

 Have just finished watching the above BBC TV documentary about Ray Davies and a review in the Independent, readable here, gets it roughly right, so I probably won't say too much more. The review ends:

if there was a lingering sense that Davies was being indulged, that his nostalgia was slipping into downright despondence, we could forgive him on the grounds that he has done so much for us.

LENNONYC BBC (Imagine: Lennon: The New York Years)

This is to alert UK readers that the PBS documentary about John Lennon's final years, LENNONYC,  has just been broadcast on the BBC - as part of Alan Yentob's Imagine documentary strand, appropriately enough - and should be available on iplayer  shortly, I presume for the usual time of one week, so hurry, hurry, hurry if you didn't catch it last night. (BBC website page with iplayer link here.)

[Update looks like it's not going to be on iplayer after all - which may suggest to the cynically minded that a UK DVD release is planned.]

I don't know how much Mr Yentob interposes himself between the viewer and the material on this particular occasion, as I missed the start, but on the BBC website the film is clearly credited to the director, Michael Epstein.

Mr Epstein's is a name is etched in my mind because of the excellent series of free-to-download podcasts of raw interview material for the documentary in which he can be heard gently prompting - and occasionally prodding - interviewees to talk about matters which, in some cases, they haven't discussed publicly before.

Tripper's Day (Leonard Rossiter sitcom)

A DVD has recently been issued of Leonard Rossiter's last sitcom, Triipper's Day, written by Brian Cooke. It will, I imagine, sell on the strength of Rossiter's name - and it is indeed worth acquiring for his performance if you are already a fan.

The casual purchaser needs to be warned, however, that this is not another Rising Damp or Reggie Perrin: but a broad and knockabout sitcom of the sort which might have been more common when it aired in 1984.

In Praise of Freddie "Parrotface" Davies or We'll Always Have Didsbury

This is to draw readers' attention to a DVD which features a selection of clips from films and TV shows in which Freddie "Parrotface" Davies has appeared over the years, including the very first TV appearance of his Samuel Tweet character on Opportunity Knocks from 1964.

He tells a single joke, really a shaggy dog story (appropriately, the setting is a pet shop), but what comes over is the performer's enjoyment in the relaying of what is a fairly simple gag and the sense of his knowing how to work the audience.

That was the moment which "started everything" for the former Redcoat - even though, acccording to an interview with Martin Kelner, it was entirely fortuitous:

Alastair Dougal songs

Click below to hear two songs by Alastair Dougall, he of the ode to Phil Cording and Cheapo, which can be downloaded for free at bandcamp:

Donovan Albert Hall reviews or How Do You Like Them Gold Apples?

[Last update: October 8th 2011. I have read that an official DVD of the gig is to be released at some point, and some of the clips embedded below have been removed from youtube so they won't play. I have read that there are plans to release an official DVD of the gig, which would explain it. Nevertheless, at the time of this note, a fair number of the clips below are still operational.]

No, I didn't go. I will add to this post over the next few days with reviews by others - y'know, people who actually went there, who took the chance and sat and sweltered on the tube in the hope of happiness to come by being present at Donovan's recreation, at the Royal Albert Hall last night, of the Sunshine Superman album.

The only review I have come across to date is by Kieron Tyler on the Arts Desk website, readable in full here. He notes that "the voice is not what it was" but concludes:

Donovan: why I'm not going tonight. Probably.

Have been thinking more about the Donovan Albert Hall gig tonight (above, same location in 1973). Not entirely unexpectedly, no mysterious benefactor has offered to pay for a ticket so far (so that cruel contributor Mr F, was right), and I've rather lost hope in that direction.

But in a way the money is not really the issue. Funds have been severely diminished but I could go if I really wanted to - and had a good look at the Royal Albert Hall website today, where good seats are still available, though sales seem to have been pretty good.

No, it's more about the level of disappointment. That there will be disappointment I am reasonably certain; that there will be flashes of enjoyment in between I am less certain, but that, too, seems, on balance, probable. But will those flashes be enough?

Cheapo Cheapo Records - guide to posts

The post "Cheapo Cheapo Records - the Complete Story" seems to have attracted a lot of attention. It was assembled from a series of earlier posts, condensed and considerably rewritten in the process. If you wish to read the original pieces, which are longer and more discursive, click on titles below rather than images.

American Hot Wax revisited (Alan Freed biopic)

Saw American Hot Wax today for the first time in about thirty years. Enjoyable enough, although more bitty than I remembered. There are good moments when Tim McIntyre as Alan Freed shows that the music matters to him, but as the film is given over to a concert after around the one hour point there isn't a lot of time to develop character.

Ode to Nightingales (Paul Makin)

 I mentioned the sitcom Nightingales in a recent post about BBC 4's new series The Night Shift. Originally broadcast on Channel 4 in the early 90s, it is now available on DVD and deserves the very highest praise.

Bigging Up PhoneShop

Still in new (or newish) sitcom mode  - I can't pontificate about doo wop all the time - I'd like to put in a word for PhoneShop, already broadcast on E4, but which has just started a run on Channel 4 last night.

In the Friday night slot, too - which would suggest a certain amount of faith in its potential, even if it's been securely sandwiched between very old Peter Kay material and Ricky Gervais.

Why new Icelandic sitcom is straight from the fridge (The Night Shift, BBC 4)

As a further contribution to this blog's intermittent series of non-musical posts, allow me to draw youir attention to The Night Shift, a sitcom set in an all-night garage in Reykjavik which promises to be, on the basis of the first two episodes broadcast last night on BBC 4,  pretty good.

Parrot Records on Matt the Cat's radio show

If you are reading this around the time of its being posted you may be able to catch Matt the Cat's Juke in the Back radio show dedicated to Parrot Records, available for a while as a free-to-download MP3 on the Rock-it radio Archives page here - but hurry, as newer shows will gradually push it off the list. You can find further details about this and other Juke in the Box programmes in the episode guide on Matt's own website here (scroll down to # 44).

Three Coins in the Sewer (Alan Klein)

 

Delighted to see that at long last Alan Klein's Three Coins in the Sewer can be found on youtube. Recorded in 1962 when there was a craze for Cockney songs. (perhaps prompted by the longrunning success of Fings Ain't Wot They Used T'Be), it is a kind of masterpiece, given what Stan Laurel would have called "a half-assed digntiy" by Ivor Raymonde's string arrangement. But it's Klein's deadpan vocal which is the heart of the song, a parody of Three Coins in the Fountain which sounds like it borrows musically from the traditional On Top of Old Smokey.. And the sound effects (it's a Joe Meek production) are pitched just right: not so many that they swamp - if that's the word I'm looking for - the song.

I'm Still the Same Paul (radio play about Paul Robeson)

This is to bring readers' attention to a radio play about the singer and activist Paul Robeson by Annie Caulfield whch will be available on BBC iplayer till the 8th of May here (the above image is a screengrab.) Most BBC iplayer radio content (as opposed to TV) is accessible outside the UK so it's worth a try wherever you are.

I heard it at the time of its original broadcast and listened to it again this morning. The vague memory I had retained was that it was okay but a bit jumbled. Listening again, my brain oxygenated by a swim, I was rather more impressed than expected, and recommend it despite a few reservations.

Beached Boy or My Life in Movies

It may not have been Ken Campbell. Well, no, it was Ken Campbell, obviously, but it may not have been Ken Campbell, is what I'm saying. Originally.

So my hailing him, in his soft black felt hat, as he was about to get into, or was possibly getting out of, a car in Parliament Hill Fields was, or may have been, on balance, a mistake.

But I wasn't to know that at the time - indeed, had no possible means of knowing that, what with my friend and his wife - the ones who don't read the blog, so it won't much matter what I say, even though I do strive for accuracy, what with the the hand of history a-tickling of my shoulder - with them, as I say, the only ones who had ever laid claim to witnessing the event - which was, or had been, a non-starter, chartwise, on two separate occasions (nothing to do with me, I hope), hence the - well, the obscurity of this promo video, and so the doubt on an early evening in the 1990s, as I crossed the road in search of answers from the soft felt-hatted one.

I can see that I've started too quickly. So let's leave my late nineties self frozen in the act of making some kind of hailing gesture, and let's have - well, let's have some kind of doubt or fear creeping over the features of Ken Campbell as, turning to another TV screen, we rapidly rewind ....

Views of a lost London

Having referred to The Yellow Balloon in the previous, entirely frivolous, post, perhaps now would be a good time to restore a modicum of sanity with the following review of a recentish DVD box set of London-based films. Anthony Newley stars in one, and although Sparrows Can't Sing is not a musical (despite a title song by Lionel Bart) it is, like What a Crazy World, a film adaptation of a Theatre Workshop production.

If you are thinking of buying this box set because, like me, you know one of the films, then I'd say it's worth taking a punt. I bought this primarily for Pool of London, an Ealing Classic which doesn't seem to be on any of the Ealing box sets, but all of the films here are worth seeing (though I haven't yet seen Les Bicyclettes de Belsize). And several appear to be released on DVD for the first time.

Donalert Part Two: A Sign

Remember that Alan Yentyob documentary about Bowie? That's right, in the long-ago when Yentob didn't feel the need to interpose his physical self quite so much between the viewer and the subject, yeah?

Well, remember all that cut-up writing he was doing, like Mr Burroughs in The Newcomers. What? No, you remember Mr Burroughs, surely?

He looked a lot like Norman Bi -ird,
Drove a Morris Minor van

Campbell Singer - that was it. Anyway, you know that cutting-up thing, and Bowie saying proudly, "Yes, that's how I came up with the Laughing Gnome, whereas Marc actually thinks he's a poet," and then subsiding into sniggering and complaining there was a fly in his soup, yeah? All coming back to you now?

Donalert aka Belated For-Albert-Hall Plea

Suppose I ought to let readers know that Donovan will be performing the whole of the Sunshine Superman album at the Royal Albert Hall on Friday June 3rd. I had known about this already, but reading the new edition of Mojo magazine I see that John Cameron, responsible for the arrangments on Donovan's classic 60s recordings, will be part of this and there is an orchestra to back him - in other words, this is not just yet another night with guitar. I had a look at the Royal Albert Hall website, and saw that the cheapest tickets are £20 but couldn't actually see any available: £30 looks more likely.

And I suppose the question is do I now care enough, or am I willing to take the risk of disappointment, to schlep out there and back? The answer is probably not - and if you have read my earlier post about Donovan performing at the Festival Hall you will understand why.

But I am tempted - if only to have my disappointment confirmed in a masochistic sort of way. Or maybe I should accept that my experience of Donovan live has already been bookended by the Green's Playhouse and Festival Hall gigs.

Arena: Produced by George Martin (BBC documentary)

One of the better sketches in the variable BBC comedy series Big Train - in fact, the only one which has stayed with me - imagines a heavily bearded George Martin as a Terry Waite-style hostage, speaking at a press conference after his release. Whatever question Martin is asked, he immediately responds with one or other of the well-worn anecdotes about the Beatles: not realising John was high when he sent him to the roof  for a breath of air, etc.

I don't know what the average viewer made of it, but for someone who thinks about the Beatles maybe a little too much (and hey, there's a dullblog for that), it was screamingly funny - on a first viewing, anyway. If you do fall into the latter category, try it if you haven't seen it:

Not Without a Fan: Peter Skellern

[read details about kickstarter campaign for new Peter Skellern CD here - 8th March 2024 is last day to pledge.]

Non-cheapo mango

Normally around this time of year I attend a work-related lunchtime event in the West End then beetle off to root around in Cheapo Cheapo Records.

Today, the event over, I thought now would be the time to brave MADD, the mango-based dessert cafe which has sprung up in the spot where once Cheapo stood.