Last night: in the Hackney studio again, this time for ‘Come Down From The Cross’. I add new vocals and revise the lyrics to fit producer Alex’s new edit. Originally the song did bang on for a bit, and he’s now brought it in under four minutes. The trouble with having unlimited time when recording – at least, for me – is that I think of more and more riffs and melodies around the same chord structure. The result is seven catchy riffs all fighting to be heard at once, where one would do. The ear can only really pick out one melody at time – the rest is all background warmth. All notes should form part of one melody, or nothing. With Alex on board, we’ve cut it down and let the songs breathe a little.
On the overground train to Hackney, a fifty-ish man with greying sideburns and baseball cap gets on, reaches to the ceiling for a handrail, then stops himself in time when he realises it is actually a fluorescent lighting tube. Unfamiliar with the Silverlink line, I’ve made the same mistake myself. He suddenly speaks to me, with a heavy accent:
Man: London is horrible.
Me: I’m sorry?
Man: London. London is horrible.
Me: Aha.
Man: Milano is much better.
I want to say something in my city’s defence, about how he’s probably not seen all of it in order to make such a judgement. The free parks, the free galleries and museums, the architecture, the history, the secrets, the adventures. But I keep quiet.
To be fair, the Silverlink train line is not one of the capital’s highlights. Florescent lighting tubes where there should be handrails don’t help, and neither does the system’s current incompatibility with the Oyster Card. It seems ridiculous to have to buy an overland rail ticket to get from Camden Road to Hackney Central, and not be able to do so via the Oyster Card, which integrates all the city’s buses and underground trains. Still, this is such a common gripe that it’s only a matter of time before the inevitable. (I check – Oyster will be compatible with Silverlink from November this year).
I wonder if my Milan friend is aware of the Oyster card system. If not, I can appreciate that London’s travel prices are indeed horrible for the outsider. All visitors to London for more than a day must educate themselves about Oyster Cards, or end up spending a fortune unnecessarily.
I review some music for Plan B:
Candie Payne “I Wish I Could Have Loved You More” (Deltasonic)
Rose Melberg “Cast Away The Clouds” (Vinyl version: Where It’s At Is Where You Are)
Suburban Kids With Biblical Names “#3” (Yesboyicecream Records)
North Sea Radio Orchestra “The End Of Chimes EP” (oof! Records)
Andres Segovia “The Fabulous Andres Segovia” (El Records)
Steven Brown “Brown Plays Tenco” (LTM)
Sebastian Cabot, Actor “Bob Dylan, Poet: A Dramatic Reading With Music” (Rev-Ola)
Some notes on each one.
Candie Payne: Young Liverpool singer, unabashed ersatz retro in the John Barry / Phil Spector mode. ‘One More Chance’ is far and away the best song, well-written and well-sung, and deserves to be heard by everyone.
Rose Melberg: US twee-pop veteran (from such bands as Tiger Trap) going all Virginia Astley and pastoral. Best track is the vinyl-only one, which is just as well. I have to get a wet cloth out and clean the caked dust off my turntable for the first time in centuries to review the album. Bonus track in question is a gorgeous cover of a 1971 song by English folk artist Anne Briggs. The LP insert sports a poster-sized photo of the singer against a snowy landscape, immaculate in red coat, white socks and black wellingtons.
Suburban Kids With Biblical Names – the Swedish Pastels, or one of them. Quirksome but never irksome, flaunting their jauntiness.
North Sea Radio Orchestra – chamber-folk ensemble who use dead poets (eg Longfellow) as their lyricists, and thus are right up my street. Have played libraries and churches and have been featured on BBC Radio 3’s Late Junction programme, to no one’s surprise whatsoever. Coming from the classical side of the spectrum but with an indie bent (how many other classical ensembles put out 7″ vinyl EPs in 2007?). I am an instant fan.
“The Fabulous Andres Segovia”, a typically stylish El Records compilation of classical guitar recordings from the pioneer and virtuoso Segovia, who’s credited with rescuing the humble acoustic guitar and rebuilding it for the classical world. Includes enlightening sleeve notes on his historical importance, plus a dark beauty in period Spanish garb on the cover.
“Steven Brown Plays Tenco” – a curiously arty mini-album from the late 80s. San Francisco avant garde artist Brown interprets the works of Luigi Tenco, a Brel-esque Italian songwriter who shot himself dead in the late 60s, because a mainstream pop festival rejected his work. I’ve had some unkind reviews too, but I think that’s a rather overly dramatic response. Even for me.
Sebastian Cabot was a rotund actor popular on US 60s sitcoms for playing posh English gentlemen, and provided the voice of Bagheera in Disney’s Jungle Book. In 1967, for no discernibly good reason he released a spoken word album reciting Bob Dylan lyrics to a freestyle musical backdrop. Suffice it to say, the album begs to be filed alongside similar works by William Shatner (Like A Rolling Stone is particularly Shatner-ish), but despite that, the charming, twinkling backing arrangements render it frequently engrossing, even touching. Certainly unusual.
