Two items I'd like to bring to the attention of any readers...
Firstly, and I think I'm a bit behind on this news, but the thoroughly awesome Cave In have reconvened after their hiatus of three-and-a-half years and are releasing an EP soon on Hydra Head Records. They have one Boston show booked and no plans to tour, but new music is more than I could have asked for or expected anyway so that's cheered me right up...
(This is Cave In playing "Big Riff" a.k.a. one of the best songs ever ever ever)
...especially after hearing the sad news that Canterbury scene jazz/rock legend Hugh Hopper has died, succumbed to the leukemia he was diagnosed with only this past Winter. Mr Hopper was one of the finest bass players this country has produced - he not only had the chops, but he had a fantastic sense of balance, texture and his own role in a composition. He played with many notable figures in British music, but will undoubtedly be remembered as a not-quite-founding member of (The) Soft Machine. In this spot he hammered away through many exciting and charismatic jams, sharing the rhythm section with Robert Wyatt (among others) and authoring such post-psychedelia classics as "Memories", "Facelift", and the four-part suite "Virtually" that can be found on Soft Machine's "Fourth" album - surely one of the best jazz fusion records of all time. I was lucky enough to see him perform two years ago with Brainville, the frenetic and abrasive free jazz/noise/rock/beat-poetry trio that also included Daevid Allen (of Gong/ early period Soft Machine/University of Errors) and Chris Cutler (of the dangerously insane-sounding Henry Cow, and many more). It was my first time seeing any of these players live, and I was especially excited about seeing Daevid Allen play lead guitar. But once they took the stage it was Hugh Hopper that held my attention, anchoring the daring explorations of the guitarist and drummer by dropping these huge thick slabs of electric bass at baffling meters and appearing every inch the refined and tasteful musician that forty-five years behind an instrument will make you. And when at one point I looked down to see how his distortion pedal could possibly sound so savage and noticed it was the 'Facelift' itself - sharing its name with the song that bowled me over as a 16-year-old - I was genuinely starstruck. Here's a great clip of the three-piece version of Soft Machine ripping through Wyatt's "Moon in June". These guys all look insanely cool by the way, like... devastatingly awesome. I mean, just look at Hugh's moustache and Mike Ratledge's glasses (keyboard player). And Robert Wyatt's tie. Roughly translated, all that get-up means "I'm better than you at jazz fusion, and I don't really feel the need to put too fine a point on it."
Also, The Mars Volta covered Hugh's "Memories" as a bonus track for the iTunes version of 'Bedlam...' and it's great. It's also further proof that The Mars Volta know what the fuck they're talking about, because this song was never on a proper Soft Machine record (only a collection of '66 demos, and covered by Allen and Wyatt on the "Bananamoon" record in 1971). You can listen to Cedric and Omar's version here.
And here's a shot I took of Hugh playing with Brainville (3/7/07) at The Borderline in London.(L to R is Daevid Allen, Chris Cutler, Hugh Hopper.) (Click to enlarge by the way)
As some may know, I now live in Brighton and one of the very best features of this town is the live music. I've seen some truly memorable bands and solo artists in the short time I've been here, and it's gratifying. A couple of weeks ago I caught the frenetic Japanese force of nature known as Melt Banana at the Engine Room, an excellently dingy basement bar right opposite the seaside, supported by The Shitty Limits. The latter band includes my friend Eddie and it was great to see them, as well as the small but significant entourage that accompanied them - Cheryl (of Counter Culture, the last bastion of grassroots music appreciation in my hometown of High Wycombe, and just a damn good record shop), Kieran (punk rock devotee, occasional promoter and all-round very decent chap) and Pook (the ever-lively frontman of Ska-Metal party-bringers Beat The Red Light). The Limits were playing a lot of new material and they've really upped their game, sticking to their strengths but broadening slightly in terms of composition and focus and tempo and stage presence and a fuckload more things as well. Melt Banana then proceeded to tear the town a new arsehole in the way that only Japanese extreme bands can - with vigour, creativity and character. The place was as hot as a hellish sauna. It was especially great for me because I'd never really listened to them before, trusting in their reputation by the word of like-minded friends and other fringe-ish musicians/journalists/promoters. All the hype was indeed justified. They melted my face a bit. Fuckin awesome.
While on the subject, discovering bands for the first time by seeing them live is the greatest pleasure a music fan can enjoy. They may be at their most elemental, enthusiastic and playful in this format and many of my current favourites 'sold' themselves to me by playing an outright awesome show at a night I had attended for a different reason. A good example of this is Matthew Houck a.k.a. Phosphorescent, who I caught supporting the wonderful Black Moutain at the Scala in King's Cross last spring. He strolled onstage with only a well-weathered guitar and a loop pedal and proceeded to bewitch everyone into silence with his fragile and haunting Americana country-folk. As an acoustic singer/songwriter myself, I was immediately bowled over by his music and voice and he showed me another way to approach the form. He recently gathered together a band and headed across the Atlantic for a tour, stopping at the Engine Room to play in front of a rapturous crowd of which I was a priveleged member. The promoter took to the stage and introduced him, saying "Well... Phosphorescent, what can I say? If anyone wants me I'll be slumped in the corner of the room crying." Please do watch this clip I filmed of the full band rendition of "A Picture of Our Torn Up Praise", a beautiful fucking song if ever I heard one.
I noticed recently that my friends over in Southsea had booked a folk-punk crew called Defiance, Ohio to play at the Fawcett and that the band were heading over to the Cowley Club the very next night. The Cowley Club is a brilliant institution - the base for a radical community who put on shows across many genres and host forums and discussions on a wide range of causes that I won't try to abbreviate. Just check them out. Even if you're not into the politics, they have fucking good beer and tea. Anyway, I decided that I should look into some upcoming gigs there and discovered a Swedish hardcore band called Grace Will Fall. They played tonight and I went along, expecting a big crowd but presented with an empty venue for the entire evening. Well, all I can say is it's everyone else's problem because they missed a fucking excellent band, and a prime example of the kind of modern and invigorating European hardcore punk I could spend years trying to discover. This kind of stuff kicks the shit out of so much music, really. Imagine them playing a gig with Attack! Vipers! or early period MÃnus. It would be so good I'd probably have to re-align my life afterwards.
But the aim of this post was to say that after the show, these very friendly Swedish dudes hung out with us and drank beers and talked to us about their tour so far. The singer was flying straight to Portugal to record a famous local crust punk band's album, and one of the other guys was going straight to his brother's wedding. We told them that the next time they come over to the UK (which they hope will be early next year), we would hook them up with our promoter friends in Portsmouth and Southampton and High Wycombe, because we know they would be perfect for these shows. And this, to me, was another example of the deconstruction of the business end of music making, even at the smallest level, where musician and audience are levelled to a healthy and altrusitic platform and there's no place for bullshit or division. I bought their album, and it's fucking awesome. I'm listening to it for the third time in a row while I type this.
I suppose I have no real point to all this except to say that if you love music, go out and find it at your own level because there's no player that won't appreciate that or feel encouraged to press on, challenge themselves and contribute to the worldwide resource of artistry and creation. I feel like I want to shout it from the rooftops, which is probably a good sign that I should go to bed pretty soon anyway.
