Everything that happens will happen today

When I went to Norway, to catch Brian Eno at the Punkt 08 festival, he said (at his lecture) that he had been working with David Byrne on a new album.

Well, here it is, available only from this website, in every format you can think of, from MP3 download to Vinyl, CD, etc.



For those who like that sort of thing! David Byrne added words to instrumental tracks that Brian Eno had already written.

I may add more, when I have listened to it all.

Enjoy.

[later addition/edition] - current favourite track "I Feel My Stuff".

Grandpa Takes a Trip...

...Down Memory Lane.

Strange circumstances led me to go to a Sixties Night at the Globe in Cardiff.

I did kinda assume that this would be an opportunity for people to dress up (I know there were Mods and Rockers, and Kings Road chic Mary Quant 'hippies', as well as scruffy Notting Hill 'heads and freaks' like me), but we didn't have one style - we raided the dressing up box, so you might see a completely silver alien chatting to an 18th Century dandy.

Given that people seem to like dressing up as Vicars and Tarts, etc - it did seem likely. Sadly, even in my mildest outfit (mirror waistcoat, sand-dollar on macrame necklace, velvet jacket) I seemed over-dressed. I thought it would look appropriately sedate for a granddad. Hey ho. The only long hair was on the girls.

In spite of incense, and a bubble machine and being handed a bedraggled flower by a young woman it couldn't really feel like the 60s with everyone drinking, and nobody smoking. We didn't have alcohol at UFO, or Middle Earth, or Les Cousins, Bunjies, etc. Not to say we didn't drink, but only in pubs (playing darts in The Pillars of Hercules and drinking Newcastle Brown before going down to Cousins). And although you could get nine months (not just a caution) for possession, you would almost certainly smell hash at an all-nighter...

Still the band - El Goodo - were pretty good (although I never heard any kind of country music until the 70s, when Dylan did Nashville Skyline, and I got to The States and heard the non-redneck versions from The Flying Burritos, New Riders of the Purple Sage and all that) but their extended riff at the end hit the spot - and the light show improved, and I met a few nice folks, so I don't consider it a wasted evening (in fact, for lack of spliff, I wasn't wasted) but maybe a wasted opportunity. And no, I didn't get any acid flashbacks - more's the pity. Peace.

Dropping like flies

I had every intention of dropping in here to celebrate W.C.Fields birthday - a favourite fellow juggler, fellow Aquarian, and fellow curmudgeon.

Now I heard that John Martyn died this morning, and I don't feel quite so jolly, although I still want a serious drink, in honour of both of them.

I knew John back in the days when he looked and sounded like an angel. I knew him well enough to know that he was a bit tougher than that, but I was so astounded by his talent that I felt honoured to just sit and roll joints for him, and listen to him play. I never even had the bottle to grab a set of bongos, and try to accompany him (sigh).

It was only a few weeks ago that Davy Graham died - who was the hero to just about all the guitarists at the time - and I met many of them, just from working at Bunjies Coffee Bar, and (more importantly) at Les Cousins Folk and Blues club (the place to be).

I never did show any talent for 'talking music' so I never got really close to them...as they would get bored with words, and start talking through their instruments. I was still pretty happy to just be the tea boy (in both senses of the word).

Anyway. He's gone. And I never got to say thank-you just one more time.

Talking 'bout my generation...

Or rather - I feel like screaming along with Joe Cocker:

You feeling alright?
I'm not feeling that good myself, yeah
Well, you feeling alright?
Hey, I'm not feeling that good myself.

Woah, you feeling alright?
Yeah, I'm not feeling too good myself
Woah, woah, I'm lonely
But I'm not feeling that good myself.

You can turn away
You feeling alright?
I'm not feeling that good myself, I tell you.

Another one gone

Very sad to hear that Davey Graham has died.

Back when I worked at Les Cousins I saw all the guitar greats of my generation, a privilege I can't even explain.

I recently met someone who was equally into that generation of guitarists - and it reminded me of all those magic moments, hanging out with Roy Harper, John Martin, Bert Jansch, John Renbourne, and on and on - even though I wasn't a musician, just the tea boy.

Davy seemed like the grand master of the group, even though he never was as famous.

In the blink of an eye

I have been alternately exhausted and exhilarated for over a week now. This time last week I was in Norway with my great friend Stein and his family - attending a fantastic music event - Punkt 08. I was there and back in what seemed like a øyeblikk. You can see a day-by-day review at All About Jazz.

I enjoyed most of what I saw and heard (there were talks as well as concerts, sessions and live remixes). Brian Eno's 7 Million Paintings
were installed in the art gallery - and he and Jon Hassell did a great 'double act' talk. Amusingly enough (given the previous post about POD) they discussed the two books they were working on, or possibly a combined effort...
Eno talked about the spectrum from Surrender (his title) to Control - whereas Jon Hassell used the metaphor of the North and the South of You (intellect, emotions or head and heart, or brain and body, or thought and passion, etc)

My favourite band may have been Nik Bärtsch's Ronin - a self-professed zen funk band (a pretty good description of what they produce).

It was also fun to finally meet Stein's family, Heidi, Milli and Malin - and put faces to names (Stein and I have been online students in a forum for about four years now - and we met up for the first time in Paris in July).

Long journey home, back to work, social life, and not enough sleep - a fairly jet-lagged week. Then last night I went up to Brecon to finally catch this year's show from NoFit State, and it was truly excellent! The skills levels have gone up a notch again - and as well as the 'arty' aspect it now has muscle and humour and dynamics to balance the ethereal floating aspect of aerial shows. But I can hardly see straight with fatigue. Although I am let off dog-walking routines when Julie and Dandy are away at the cottage - I just stay up later on the computer, etc - so still don't get enough rest and relaxation. Hey ho.

She does it proud

I love my partner dearly, and we are coming up to ten happy years together, but I have to go off into my den if I want to crank up Dylan and play him (nearly peer group, and he always said what I wanted to say). If I tell her to listen to the lyrics it doesn't work, as she can't stand his voice and delivery (she's a singer). I point to Hendrix singing "All Along the Watchtower"...which she loves, and even Dylan does it that way now...but she didn't know he wrote that.

So when KT Tunstall came on at the end of a mostly drearily retro folky Dylan tribute tv programme - and blew the audience away with the first two tracks of Blood On The Tracks - I wanted to share it. Didn't have video recording access. On YouTube now you can see her doing the first track (did anyone record the follow up of "Simple Twist Of Fate" - please post it!) You can glimpse a clip at the BBC on the link above. Oh, and I liked Robyn Hitchcock doing Visions of Johanna, too. No disrespect to the folkies (I loved you once...)

YouTube has her doing it on Jules Holland's show, but you get the drift. Who else does write lyrics anything like this? Read this, maybe, but listen to KT's delivery at the same time...

Early one mornin' the sun was shinin',
I was layin' in bed
Wond'rin' if she'd changed at all
If her hair was still red.
Her folks they said our lives together
Sure was gonna be rough
They never did like Mama's homemade dress
Papa's bankbook wasn't big enough.
And I was standin' on the side of the road
Rain fallin' on my shoes
Heading out for the East Coast
Lord knows I've paid some dues gettin' through,
Tangled up in blue.

She was married when we first met
Soon to be divorced
I helped her out of a jam, I guess,
But I used a little too much force.
We drove that car as far as we could
Abandoned it out West
Split up on a dark sad night
Both agreeing it was best.
She turned around to look at me
As I was walkin' away
I heard her say over my shoulder,
"We'll meet again someday on the avenue,"
Tangled up in blue.

I had a job in the great north woods
Working as a cook for a spell
But I never did like it all that much
And one day the ax just fell.
So I drifted down to New Orleans
Where I happened to be employed
Workin' for a while on a fishin' boat
Right outside of Delacroix.
But all the while I was alone
The past was close behind,
I seen a lot of women
But she never escaped my mind, and I just grew
Tangled up in blue.

She was workin' in a topless place
And I stopped in for a beer,
I just kept lookin' at the side of her face
In the spotlight so clear.
And later on as the crowd thinned out
I's just about to do the same,
She was standing there in back of my chair
Said to me, "Don't I know your name?"
I muttered somethin' underneath my breath,
She studied the lines on my face.
I must admit I felt a little uneasy
When she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,
Tangled up in blue.

She lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe
"I thought you'd never say hello," she said
"You look like the silent type."
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Italian poet
From the thirteenth century.
And every one of them words rang true
And glowed like burnin' coal
Pourin' off of every page
Like it was written in my soul from me to you,
Tangled up in blue.

I lived with them on Montague Street
In a basement down the stairs,
There was music in the cafes at night
And revolution in the air.
Then he started into dealing with slaves
And something inside of him died.
She had to sell everything she owned
And froze up inside.
And when finally the bottom fell out
I became withdrawn,
The only thing I knew how to do
Was to keep on keepin' on like a bird that flew,
Tangled up in blue.

So now I'm goin' back again,
I got to get to her somehow.
All the people we used to know
They're an illusion to me now.
Some are mathematicians
Some are carpenter's wives.
Don't know how it all got started,
I don't know what they're doin' with their lives.
But me, I'm still on the road
Headin' for another joint
We always did feel the same,
We just saw it from a different point of view,
Tangled up in blue.
Copyright © 1974 Ram's Horn Music

Lord knows, I've paid some dues, getting through... (yeah, I was going through the break up of a long term relationship at the time, too) Duh

All the people we used to know, they're an illusion to me now. Some are mathematicians, some are carpenter's wives. I don't know how it all got started, I don't know what they're doin' with their lives. But me, I'm still on the road headin' for another joint. We always did feel the same, We just saw it from a different point of view...

Go score Blood On the Tracks and listen to the stripped down, original version, of Tangled Up In Blue..

My Desert Island Dylan (can I take Blonde on Blonde, with me too, please? And maybe Planet Waves, and uh, oh well, fuck it...)

This lyric alone kept me going all these years:

The only thing I knew how to do
Was to keep on keepin' on
like a bird that flew