23rd Turnoff - Michael Angelo

Label: Deram

Year of Release: 1967

This has already featured on the "Turnoffs to Nowhere" compilation, so I apologise for its reappearance again - but really, it's one of those tracks which manages to sum up an era so impressively you frequently find yourself scratching your head about how the hell it remained buried for so long.

Jimmy Campbell was the songwriter and main project driver behind the 23rd Turnoff, having previously had a long history on the Liverpool music scene without sniffing much in the way of mainstream action.  One of his acts, The Panthers, supported The Beatles at the Cavern Club in 1962, and The Kirkbys - who were essentially 23rd Turnoff under another name - slipped out a couple of singles towards the tail end of the Merseybeat era which were largely ignored.

Campbell was quick to leap on psychedelia when its multi-coloured, swirling hues drifted his way, and this single was one result - a brief but brilliantly dreamy track with hushed vocals, throbbing church organs and a slightly sinister undertow which has been consistently been named one of the era's lost records, with people as varied as Bob Stanley out of Saint Etienne and Will Sergeant out of Echo and the Bunnymen singing its praises.  If you haven't heard it yet, you should remedy that immediately.  

The B-side "Leave Me Here" is rather less impressive, being a rather stripped bare and chipper acoustic track, but I've included it in the download bundle (as always).

There's a complilation of 23rd Turnoff material available entitled "The Dream of Michaelangelo" which is also worth a listen.

Sadly, Jimmy Campbell passed away in 2007, but there is a Myspace page in tribute to him here.

Download the Single Here

Second Hand Record Dip Part 39 - Bud Flanagan - Who Do You Think You're Kidding Mr Hitler?

Who: Bud Flanagan

What: Who Do You Think You're Kidding Mr Hitler? (b/w"It Ain't Gonna Rain No Mo!" by Bernard Bedford & Chorus)

Label: Pye

When: 1969

Where: Music and Video Exchange, Camden High Street

Cost: 50p

You'll be aware from previous blog entries that I have a passing interest in BBC television themes being given disco remixes, so imagine my surprise and disappointment when I discovered that this (the theme to "Dad's Army") wasn't one of them. True, I can't imagine many people pointing their fingers in the air and shaking their booty to such a defiant patriotic anthem, but you'd think in this instance somebody at the Beeb would have tried to add a funky bassline, or at the very least a Mellotron.

This, then, is an exceptionally rare example of a TV theme being issued much as God intended it, right down to the fact that it peters out after just over one minute of playing time, brevity even Wire would have balked at across seven inches. There appears to be only one line added to the whole affair, and fans of "Dad's Army" will know what they're getting here - a fairly bog-standard forties-styled bit of brassy belligerence - and people from other nations who aren't aware of the programme may get something out of this tune without the context of the show that surrounded it, although it's hard to tell exactly what. The Bonzo Dog Band it is not, although it may have a certain period cuteness about it.

Perplexingly, the b-side is a seemingly unrelated track by Bernard Bedford & Chorus entitled "It Ain't Gonna Rain No Mo!" which is middle of the road music hall silliness. I can only assume somebody at Pye found it down the back of an archive somewhere, unless anybody can enlighten me further about the situation (I'm sure you can tell I haven't the first clue who Bernard Bedford is or was, although I'm fearful of the fact that perhaps I should do, and somebody is going to come along and tell me that he played a key role in the British comedy scene at some point).

Download it Here

Giorgio Moroder - Nights In White Satin

Label: GTO

Year of Release: 1976

I'm sure I've uttered these very words at some point before on this blog, but Giorgio Moroder is a genius, not just as a producer, but as a solo artist as well.  Of course, there are many wise, decent people out there who already know this fact.  The man is a legend in his home country of Italy, and may as well be given the keys to the control room of the country's music industry.  Here in Britain, however, his solo works are largely bypassed in favour of praising Donna Summer's revolutionary sound on "I Feel Love", or talking about how he breathed life back into the Mael brothers career - both worthy things to mention, but only really telling half the story.

"Underdog", as I've established before, is a prime slab of seventies pop which the Sparks probably borrowed a great deal from even before he ever sat down in the same studio with them, and this is just one of the more simultaneously ridiculous and wonderful things to come out of the seventies disco boom.

We will all be familiar with The Moody Blues' "Nights in White Satin", with its pomp, grandeur and woe-ridden lyrics, Justin Hayward sounding like a man writhing in emotional agony upon the battered carpet of a lounge in a Midlands semi-detached house.  It's not to everyone's tastes, but I personally love it.  However, a guilty confession - I probably like this cover version of it a lot more.  In it, Giorgio takes the chest-beating pleading of the original and turns it into sexual writhing.  Whilst Hayward attempts to lure back his lover with sobs and hastily scribbled poetry, Moroder beckons her back with gruff whispers: "Yeeahhh... I love you... I want you!  I neeeeed you!" he hisses, whilst a synthesiser buzzes deep, panther prowling notes in the background.  

Had Hayward and Moroder been locked into a battle to see who could get their lady back with the use of this particular ballad, I'd be willing to bet that the former would still be sobbing now despite writing the damn thing, whereas the latter would at least have got some hot, loving sex out of his effort, which is better than nothing, isn't it, readers?  

If anybody were to tell me that Jarvis Cocker had never heard this record, I would be stunned. If we forgive the saxophone solo, it more or less sets the blueprint for a lot of Pulp's disco wig-outs like "My Legendary Girlfriend" and "Seductive Barry", and Giorgio's seduction technique is perhaps similar, as even more so than Cocker, he wasn't exactly a conventionally attractive man, nor a pitch-perfect singer.  On top of that, it puts recent ironic mirrorballed cover versions such as The Scissor Sisters' "Comfortably Numb" to total shame - the lyrics to that just don't work on the dancefloor if you've any idea about their origins at all, whereas Moroder has spotted some sexual yearning in "Nights in White Satin" and gone the whole way with the idea, rising it above the status of cheap irony.

I've also managed to write this entry up without mentioning much about the cheeky B-side "I Wanna Funk With You Tonite", wherein a saucy female vocalist keeps deliberately misunderstanding the use of the word "funk", and repeating a certain other f-word back.  That alone would be worth a download.

A quick note - yes, I'm aware this single was credited as "Knights in White Satin" in other countries, but it definitely wasn't released as such in Britain, so I'm running with the k-less title.  Sorry and all that, but it doesn't make any difference to what you're going to hear, which is top drawer stuff - right down the back of the drawer in fact, alongside the porno mags.

Download it Here

One Hit Wonder #2 - The Sorrows - Take A Heart

Label: Piccadilly

Year of Release: 1965

I'm not claiming originality or insight with this choice, of course - the track itself has appeared on the "Nuggets II" box set and has been much discussed since.  

Whilst I would have to take exception to anybody who is honestly prepared to argue that The Sorrows were better than The Who or the Kinks, or indeed any number of other more successful loud, pounding, rough rock bands of the time, they certainly deserved to climb higher than number 21 in the charts with this one.

"Take A Heart" pitter-patters its way towards some of the most aggressive, hollering and sneering vocals you'll hear, and is one, elongated pean to adolescent romantic frustration.  It's not an original piece of material, of course, and other versions of this song are available - but for me it's the ultimate version, and even on the live clip above it sounds pretty damn savage.  

Lead singer Don Farden later went on to have hits with "Indian Reservation" and "Belfast Boy" as a solo artist in the seventies, but neither are a patch on this.  

Thanks to Sirlongpass for the YouTube upload.

Apologies from me for the relative lack of uploads at present - I've been away on holiday and relying on delayed posts to get my stuff out there.  Hopefully normal service will be resumed very  soon. 

The Best Of and the Rest Of British Psychedelia (aka Morgan Blue Town)

Label: Action Replay/ Morgan Blue Town
Year of Release: 1988/91


Ooh, the confusion this one's likely to cause. I'll start from the beginning, shall I?


Once upon a time, there was a North London based recording studio and record label called Morgan, who were extremely successful in their capacity as the former, attracting visits from the Rolling Stones amongst others, but disappeared completely under the radar as an independent house of hits. Some of their acts such as The Orange Bicycle found success on the continent, but in the UK almost all their bands were ignored, and the label failed to produce anything which charted.


Mindful of the changing tide, and perhaps sensing an opportunity to claw back some cash, the label and studio owner Monty Babson created a psychedelic and progressive outlet called Morgan Blue Town in the late sixties which issued a few slabs of vinyl before giving up the ghost. Astonishingly, though, a great many acts were waiting in the wings to issue material for MBT which never got heard outside the studio walls due to the label's demise.


"What the bloody hell does this have to do with an album entitled 'The Best Of and the Rest Of British Psychedelia', I hear you impolitely cry. Shut your cakehole, and I'll tell you. This very compilation was originally issued in 1988 under the name "Morgan Blue Town", seemingly on the reactivated label, and was then deleted and fell off the shelves before being reissued again as a budget CD by Action Replay under its new and frankly rather misleading name and sleeve design. The tracklisting covers a lot of material which was unreleased in the sixties, plus a quantity of stuff which was licensed elsewhere - Angel Pavement, for example, briefly had their material out on Fontana Records.


The sound quality on this CD is imperfect, and the tracklisting is flawed and periodically factually incorrect ("House of Many Windows" should be credited to Bobak, Jons, Malone, and not Motherlight) but there are still some pearls on here which any self-respecting fan of the genre should hear, from Jude's marvellous reading of "Morning Morgan Town" to Cliff Wade's preposterous but ultimately lovable "Look at Me, I've Fallen Into A Teapot" - and he does too, right at the end.


The ultimate guide to all things Morgan is a compilation issued by Sanctuary called "House of Many Windows", which they released as part of the "Psychedelic Pstones" series. I haven't uploaded it here yet because it still seems to be generally available, but that album in particular proves that there was an impressive creative buzz going on. A lot of the musicians and producers worked together across most of the Morgan work, cropping up on each other's recordings all the time, and thus the studio has a very definite sound which I've always found extremely appealing. There's a fuzzy warmth and decidedly twee leaning to a lot of the poppier work, a lot of cute classical motifs which don't sound Spinal Tappish or tacked on (as on the Gorkys-ish "Saga of a Wrinkled Man"), and when the musicians are really given something to get their teeth stuck into (such as "House of Many Windows") there's an impressive depth and variation to the work. Kick me where it hurts for saying this if you must, but I've always preferred the Morgan sound to the Joe Meek sound, whilst fully appreciating the fact that the latter was more inventive and influential (and actually more successful too - it's just that Monty Babson happened to be a better businessman than Meek, and knew how to invest money wisely).

I've already covered the Bobak, Jons, Malone story here, so have another read of that if you need to get your bearings - all three worked on most of the recordings presented on this disc, so it's worth a look to get the full back-story.


Download it Here


Tracklisting:
1. Jude - Morning Morgan Town
2. The Shots - Keep Hold of What You've Got
3. Cliff Wade - Shirley
4. Motherlight - House of Many Windows
5. Chimera - Peru
6. Fortes Mentum - Saga of a Wrinkled Man
7. Angel Pavement - Baby You've Gotta Stay
8. The Smoke - My Friend Jack
9. Orange Bicycle - Laura's Garden
10. Bob Grimm - It Never Stays The Same
11. Pussy - All of My Life
12. Magic Worms - Green Mello Hill
13. Chiitra Neogy - Leilla
14. Cliff Wade - Look at Me, I've Fallen Into A Teapot

Microdisney - Everybody is Fantastic

Label: Rough Trade

Year of Release: 1984

Long-term readers of this blog may remember that last year I went through a period of uploading a whole host of Microdisney albums, only to stop dead, leaving you all with "39 Minutes", "The Clock Comes Down The Stairs", "The Peel Sessions" and not a lot else. I must confess there was a method in my madness - I do own all their output, but frankly I don't think the remaining two studio albums ("Everybody is Fantastic" and "Crooked Mile") are great introduction points for the band. (If you're reading about the band for the first time, STOP - hold it right there - and go back to my entry on "The Clock Comes Down The Stairs" immediately, which contains an overview, as well as a download of arguably their finest album).

Nonetheless, I appreciate that there are Microdisney completists out there, and that of the two albums, precious little of "Everybody is Fantastic" is available on the career round-up compilations which seem to constitute their available catalogue at the moment. And in truth, there are far worse albums you could download today - it's just that what you're going to be hearing here is a skint band with limited studio time who hadn't quite realised their strengths yet, although on certain tracks they sail extremely close to the heights of their later albums.

The Microdisney technique of savage lyrics combined with West Coast guitars and harmonies is the first thing which doesn't seem apparent on this album. Cathal Coughlan's lyrics, rather than being frothing, fevered poetry on the state of everything eighties, are more like pocket book observations in places. The despondent youths in "Escalator in the Rain" sound shrugging and cartoonish in their thwarted political ambitions, rather than genuinely furious, and Cathal even manages to sound passive himself. "This Liberal Love" is also a tale of a fast bohemian relationship which owes more to the Ray Davies songbook than anything else the band would ever produce, Coughlan playing the detached observer rather than the emotive lyricist we would later come to know him as.

However, there are moments on here that clearly show the direction they were heading in - by far the most impressive track here (and the sole single) is "Dolly", an acoustically plucked, warped ballad referencing bitter drunkenness and poverty, featuring the fantastic kiss-off line "Send me love and peace/ two more things I can't afford". "Dreaming Drains" follows a similar pattern, the spite against eighties decadence shining through the slightly muddy production.

The overall problem with "Everybody is Fantastic" isn't just the band's incomplete sense of identity, mind, but the lack of structure to the album. Most of the tracks are world-weary and backed by a metronomic drum machine which, by track thirteen, really makes the record feel stale and airless. Even when they threaten to soar, they frequently just end up a few metres from the ground instead, the slightly lumpen approach to the arrangements and production preventing the songs from reaching their full potential (indeed, some of these tracks sound far more impressive in their Peel Sessions incarnation - a common problem for a number of indie bands in this period, apparently). "Everybody Is Dead" even features some totally inappropriate slap bass playing, for the love of all things sacred, and is so inferior to the slightly disturbing John Peel recording that they may as well have just swallowed their pride and tacked the session track on the end of the album instead.

There are better albums to introduce yourself to the band with, but if you've already heard those, there are moments here which should also be savoured - it's just you'll probably appreciate hearing them more through casual dips than you will in the context of listening to the original longplayer from start to finish.

Apologies for the slight jump in "Everybody is Dead", by the way. I tried.

Tracklisting:

1. Idea

2. A Few Kisses

3. Escalator in the Rain

4. Dolly

5. Dreaming Drains

6. I'll be a Gentleman

7. Moon

8. Sun

9. Sleepless

10. Come On Over and Cry

11. This Liberal Love

12. Before Famine

13. Everybody is Dead

Download it Here

Distractions and Amusements

Whilst I do have a few blog entries almost fully written and ready to go, the next week and a half or so is likely to be fairly busy for me, meaning that updates will be few (although hopefully still occurring periodically).  And if you want to know when those are updates are likely to happen and you're a Blogger user yourself, why not follow this blog like other semi-interested people?

Failing that, check back now and then to see if I've managed to get anywhere near a keyboard and VDU to "do my stuff", and if I haven't, why not look at the following (in fact, why not look at them anyway):

The Chart Show 

A Myspace user known only as Ben Riggers has updated full episodes of the Chart Show from as early as 1986 on to his channel (and I do sorely hope this isn't supposed to be a big hidden secret).  This means that not only will you get to see lots of indie bands without videos in their respective chart rundown, but all the pop hits of the day as well, plus plenty which never quite made the grade.  Whilst it's always amusing for me to see blurry pictures of The Mighty Lemon Drops during the chart rundown, it's also perplexing to see Jesus and Mary Chain riding high in the top ten.  This stuff did used to happen back in those days, you know, when JAMC were supposed to be the new Sex Pistols.  How soon we forget.

Smalltown Pleasures 

A ridiculously good blog focussing on Japanese remasters and reissues of sixties and seventies psych and prog albums.  The Elmer Gantry's Velvet Opera album is worth downloading in itself.

Vinyl Hell 

A YouTube channel focussing totally on spinning discs from the likes of Tommy Cooper, Little and Large, the Coronation Street cast, Jimmy Tarbuck, Anita Dobson, and... oh, you get the drift...  Hopefully nobody will be in too much of a tearing hurry to get this profile taken down due to loss of revenue caused by copyright infringement, although nothing would surprise me anymore.

You'll be happy or perhaps disconcerted to learn that I have also uncovered a lot of 'interesting' vinyl lately which will be ready to upload when things settle down a bit.  If that doesn't thrill you, then what on earth do you need?  Be patient - the best things come to those who wait.

Second Hand Record Dip Part 38 - Roman Holliday - Stand By

Who: Roman Holliday

What: Stand By

Label: Jive

When: 1983

Where: Music and Video Exchange, Camden High Street

Cost: 50p

Whenever people think about "John Peel" bands, two stereotypes usually spring to mind - the first is that of the classic indie or alternative act, normally dating from the eighties for some perplexing reason, even though Peel spent several decades effectively breaking leftfield acts.   The second is bands who were so utterly, relentlessly experimental that they were never going to break through into the mainstream even if they spent an entire decade lodged on every daytime radio playlist in the world - yer Extreme Noise Terrors and yer Terminal Cheesecakes, then.  

It seems to be an often ignored fact that Peel frequently had a soft spot for other acts which possibly didn't sit easily with his typical listener, and certainly didn't get any Festive Fifty entries.  These acts were just struggling young pop bands rather than anything else - Frankie Goes to Hollywood would be a prime example of a band few people genuinely remember broadcasting a Peel session during their salad days.  Fewer still can remember Shakin' Stevens being in session or talk about it, but it happened.  Trust me.  Go away and look it up if you don't believe me.

There again, Peel seems to have always had a not-so-secret soft spot for pre-sixties revival acts in whatever form they took, and perhaps that's why he booked Roman Holliday in session back in the eighties, an act now more famed for their actually pretty spiffing hit single "Don't Try To Stop It" than anything else.  Apparently he chanced upon them performing their retro act in a dive bar in London (known appropriately as the "Jive Dive") and immediately offered them a session on the spot, meaning that his listeners were then treated to a whole bunch of fifties close harmonies and finger clickin' grooves on his show.  It probably sounded out of place, but I suspect that most listeners knew better than to be baffled by Peel's unpredictability.

The band were clearly proud enough of the achievement to include their Peel session as a free extra disc with this single, and inside the gatefold sleeve there's a picture of him beardily greeting the fresh-faced young men in the band.  Despite this, it has to be said that the average collector of Peel Sessions won't be too excited by this work - the competence behind the delivery is sometimes astonishing, and the attention to detail admirable, but the songs themselves aren't especially memorable.

Rumours persist that the band were originally a vehicle for the unstoppable Peter Noone, but I can't find any verification of that piece of gossip online, and in any case there's absolutely no evidence of it on any of their recordings.  By the time of their fleeting success they were a seven piece band lead by Steve Lambert from East London, and only managed two hits (the other being "Motormania", which just made number 40) before fading away.  Ah well.

Download it Here (has anybody else been having problems with Sharebee lately?)

Tracklisting:

Single One

A: Stand By

B: Round & Round

Single Two

A: Jive Dive (Peel Session version)

B1: One More Jilt (Peel Session version)

B2: Stand By (Peel Session version)

The Fairytale - Guess I Was Dreaming (b/w "Run and Hide")

Label: Decca

Year of Release: 1967

Another facsimile copy of a single, I'm afraid - although why I should be "afraid" when that means infinitely better sound quality than something dusty, scratchy and beer-stained I might have found on a second-hand stall I'm not too sure.  I suppose I'm only too aware of how many readers would perhaps favour authenticity.

The Warrington-based psychedelic band The Fairytale managed two singles for Decca in 1967 before evaporating, this debut and the less remarkable "Lovely People".  The A-side here "Guess I Was Dreaming" is a gentle, slightly fey track with a foreboding piano riff and throbbing bassline occasionally popping its head up into the mix to add some extra beef to the recording.  It's ever so slightly West Coast in its sound - which as one compilation-compiling wag has already pointed out, is quite a feat for a band from Warrington - and is an interesting piece of work.

The B-side "Run and Hide", on the other hand, is straight sixties pop, so lovably cliched it could almost be out of some "Austin Powers" styled parody.  A screechy organ riff, foot stomping beat and incessantly catchy chorus make it almost bubblegum, quite honestly, but that's not necessarily a terrible thing.  They sound like they're having a whale of a time, and that's what counts.

The band's line-up was John Weston on guitar, Mally Rabbit on organ, Billy Fagg on drums and Chaddy Penketh on bass guitar.  With names like that, one wonders if any pseudonyms were being used, or if it's perfectly possible for several people with such insane birthnames to join the same band at the same time.  What a strange old era it was.

Download it Here

Second Hand Record Dip Part 37 - Elliot Mansions - I Don't Want to Live Inside Myself

Who: Elliot Mansions

What: I Don't Want To Live Inside Myself (b/w "Three Score & Ten")

Label: President

When: 1972

Where: Reckless Records, Soho (RIP)

Cost: One Pound

I've owned this particular single for years, and there are two key reasons it's never been uploaded.  Firstly, information on Elliot Mansions seems to be incredibly scarce, and I was hanging on for more facts to materialise - however, it seems as if I may be waiting for the rest of my lifetime.  And secondly... despite numerous good reviews on psychedelic pop sites like Sweet Floral Albion, I really can't hear what everyone else is seemingly hearing here.  Both sides are perfectly passable ballads, with the A-side perhaps being of most interest to people as a Barry Gibb composition, but I can't hear any oddness or adventure you'd expect from a popsike disc.

Still, it seems rather selfish to sit on these things when there clearly is some demand for them to be heard, and so I present it to you for download with apologies for having absolutely no back story about the artist (or possibly band) in question.

Perhaps rather more interestingly, this single is one of many which turned up in boxes around London which appeared to have originated from the BBC Gramophone library.  I had always assumed that the BBC's vinyl library was the most comprehensive in the world and that they never had "clear outs", but that's clearly not the case, as the BBC transparent plastic sleeve my copy came in (plus the bold BBC library stamp on the B-side) both prove.  Good news for collectors, perhaps, who get to pick up near-mint copies of old singles for very low prices, but I have to wonder if some of this material would be better off inside the vaults rather than being allowed to wander into the hands of people like me - although I should probably respect the fact that if license payers were asked what their money should be spent on, the storage of flop sixties and seventies acts probably wouldn't be very high on their lists.

And as usual, I must ask anyone with any information about Elliot Mansions to come forward and spill the beans.  

Download it Here

Sandy Coast - True Love, That's a Wonder

Label: Polydor

Year of Release: 1971

There's an enormous difference between the way Sandy Coast are perceived in the UK (if people are even aware of them at all) and how the Benelux nations regard them.  Over here, they're the flop sixties band who ended up on the Rubbles series of compilations with the utterly great "Back to the City", a track which has already featured as part of one of our compilations too.  Over in the Netherlands and Belgium, though, they were big hitters and something of a star turn in the early seventies.

Formed in 1961 as the Sandy Coast Skiffle Group, they were lead by Hans Vermeulen, and had to sit and wait patiently until 1966 before the Dutch audiences would allow them to grace the charts.  Even then that was with a cover of Vera Lynn's "We'll Meet Again", which only reached number 39 (I'd argue that's way more than it deserved - I include a link to the YouTube video with the greatest of reluctance).  It was a long, slow climb to the top for the band from that point on, and it wasn't really until 1969 that they began to have any hits of note, with the likes of "Capital Punishment" and "I See Your Face Again" becoming moderate sellers.  

"True Love, That's a Wonder" is probably their biggest and most highly regarded single, reaching number three in the Netherlands charts and sounding peculiarly like a nineties Paul Weller single two decades before time.  It's a gruff, gravelly little rocker with the kind of studied vocal harmonies which would become increasingly prevalent as the seventies progressed.  Naturally, it was greeted with total disinterest by UK audiences, who had always ignored the band in the previous decade, and weren't about to change their minds in the seventies.

Still, if you head off to iTunes or any equivalent music stores, Sandy Coast will be available, and this song will be top of the popularity pile by a ridiculous margin.  For that reason alone, I'm going to break with tradition and not put it up for free download here, and instead resort to a Youtube clip.  You may download the B-side "If" if you wish, but the thought of having this blog closed down by the Dutch legal authorities for making their massive hits available at a single click is one surreal war I could do without in my life at the moment.  Look what the bastards did to Radio Caroline - I don't want them coming in here smashing up my flat and my laptop PC, thank you very much.  

The first person to successfully tell me what the band are doing playing this song in a bottling factory gains my eternal gratitude.  Thanks to VinylFlavoured for the video upload.