| Stonehenge Summer Solstice |
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We rolled into Amesbury about four o’clock in my beat up old VW Camper. It’s red and white and patchy, with new tan-coloured fibre glass filling in the wheel arch and on the door where the rust has finally eaten way at what remained of the original structure. A proper hippie vehicle. Less a vehicle, more a lesson in hand-painted, engineered autobiographical expressionism.
I call it “the Phoenix” because it’s been into, and recovered from, a very serious fire. Once it was green and peeling. Now it’s bright red. And it still flies! I had Joe with me. He’s my son, 26 years old. I picked him up at Heathrow from the tube, before we headed onto the M3 west, and then onto the A303, the road to Stonehenge. Most of the way we were talking about time paradoxes, a subject we will come back to later. Joe and I share an interest in science fiction and he’d lent me a copy of Primer, which is a time-travel movie, which I couldn’t quite get to grips with. I’d watched it the night before. I said, "I don’t get it!" Joe said he didn’t think it was “getable” as such, but worth persisting with. It’s about some guys who keep going round and round in a progressively complex loop in time. This, too, we will come back to later. To get into Amesbury you pull off the A303 at the Countess Roundabout, then down the hill, past the traffic lights and right into the car park just behind the town centre. It’s a quiet, dozy, harmless Wiltshire market town, indistinguishable from a thousand other such somnambulant, peaceful little country congregations throughout the British Isles, except for two very big differences: 1) the presence of hippies; 2) the presence of squaddies. The squaddies are here all year round, though only noticeable on the occasions when they’re allowed out of their camps for R & R and rowdiness, when there are armed Military Police on the streets, and the place feels like the nearest town to the front line in some undeclared war against an as-yet unnamed enemy. The hippies are only really here once a year, for the summer solstice. Sometimes I tend to think that the two groups are linked in some way, the hippies and the squaddies, that is: firstly because the only truly successful hippies (the ones who could really hack it living in benders and trucks all year round, and who had the necessary skills for survival in a hostile, sedentary world) were mostly ex-squaddies; secondly (and more fancifully) because I often feel that there is, in fact, an undeclared war against an as-yet unnamed enemy, in a country called the Mind. The hippies are the cannon-fodder on one side, the squaddies on the other. On the grass in front of our park-up, near the toilets, there were a couple of the recruits: one slightly red-faced and boozy-looking, the other a youngish traveller type, with dreadlocks and a top-knot and all the right piercings, including one on the bridge of his nose between his eyebrows, which made his eyes look squinty and too close together. Or maybe he had the piercing because his eyes WERE squinty and too close together and he was trying to disguise the fact. Obviously I hadn’t noticed these details yet. I was still too busy parking the van. Later we came to know the hippie traveller type as Effin Bob (that’s what he called himself) when he popped over to the van to ask for a corkscrew; later again we came to know the boozy-looking type as Ian, when he and Effin Bob had a lift with us to the Stones. We also met Stuart and Aurelia and her daughter Anastasia who is seven years old. They turned up in some flashy, fast car. It was Stuart who gave me the Phoenix, and Aurelia who painted it red. After that we all went to the pub. OK. This is what’s nice about Stonehenge and the solstice. Just this once a year you drop your guard a little, and let things happen. You meet people. You stop and chat. You offer them a lift if they haven’t got one. You go to the pub together. You let the process develop in an orderly, progressive, friendly manner. You know - for this one short time - that you are all heading in the same direction. At least you think you are. It doesn’t always work out exactly as you’d planned, however. So - now, a few hours later - we’re on our way to Stonehenge. Stuart and Aurelia and Anastasia are staying in Amesbury to watch the football (it’s England vs Sweden). They’re going to get a taxi later. Effin Bob and Ian are in the back of the Phoenix with Joe and I, along with all the provisions: food and water and bits and bobs, but mainly drink. There’s two four-packs of Kronenburg, two four-packs of Carlsburg, a large bottle of cider, a bottle of cheap wine and a three-litre wine-box, plus whatever Effin Bob and Ian have with them. Red wine and beer too, by the looks of it in my rear-view mirror. They are already at theirs, while I’m still waiting to get into mine, being the responsible driver. It’s seven o’clock and the gates to the car-park open at eight. We’ve timed it to be early enough to be near the front, so not have too long a wait. That’s the plan. It was Effin Bob’s idea. He looks like he knows what he’s talking about, what with all those piercings. People with piercings are obviously in the know. Stands to reason. He also has a good line in chat. He’s talking about times past, and “the culture”, meaning Stonehenge culture, “the festie“, as it‘s known, and the coppers and the exclusion zone, and all the rest of the epic mythology of the recent history of Stonehenge we’ve learned about over the years. Stuff that never should have happened. Stuff that should be a lesson to all of us. It’s only after about ten minutes of this incessant lesson in cultural history that we realise that Effin Bob never actually stops talking. Not once. Not for an Effin second. I wonder where he got his name? He’s also, by now, smoking pollen. He’s offered it around, telling us how extraordinary it is, but no one else is interested. Too early. We haven’t even got in yet. But he rolls one up and lights it anyway. Trouble is, it really stinks. I mean: this is the ripe camembert of cannabis formulations. This is vintage camembert after a three-week train journey in a sealed container in the luggage rack above the heater, just opened so its contents are oozing out. This is stench-foot camembert with a green mould beginning to form. The smell is lying heavily in the van like a layer of swamp-gas. If you lit it, it would explode. And we’re just about to stop and ask directions from the police. Read on...
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HAWKWIND NEWS
(The Masters of the Universe do seem to have a steady stream of interesting stories featuring them, their various friends and relations, and alumni). Each week Graham Inglis keeps us up to date with the latest news from the Hawkverse.. |
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Dave Brock, of space rock veterans Hawkwind, has been honoured with a lifetime achievement award at the annual Progressive Music Awards. The 72-year-old Devon-based musician, the only original member of the group, said it was a "great honour".
Other winners at the Kew Gardens ceremony, included Marillion, who were named band of the year.
The event, now in its second year, was hosted by BBC Newsnight presenter, and prog rock fan, Gavin Esler.
The www.progrockmag.com site said:
"The Lifetime Achievement award was sponsored by USM and excitedly presented by Channel 5 magazine show host Matthew Wright with plenty of anecdotes, a nod to a dapper-looking Robert John Godfrey on the table in front of him, and the admission that he’s still a cosmic fanboy from Croydon. The recipient could be none other than Hawkwind main man Dave Brock, looking very distinguished in his pinstripe suit (and sandals), with his partner Kris and bandmates cheering him on from their table."
The BBC website reported:
One of the world's longest-running groups, Hawkwind have undergone countless changes of personnel and musical styles. Along the way, there have been astounding stage spectacles - notably the lavish Space Ritual tour - legal battles, bust-ups, reunions, and the untimely deaths of several members.
Former members and collaborators include Motorhead's Lemmy, science fiction writer Michael Moorcook, ex-Cream drummer Ginger Baker and the late guitarist Huw Lloyd Langton.
After picking up the lifetime achievement award, Brock said: "It's a hard business to be in, with many ups and downs, but I consider music to be an art form. So come on, you young pioneers, there is plenty of room for change in our music world."
Hawkwind, best known for songs such as Silver Machine, Urban Guerrilla and Master of the Universe (used in a recent Ford car advert), released their 27th album Onward in 2012.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A510QuErVl0 |
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| THE YES CIRCULAR - TIME AND A WORD |
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The Court Circular tells interested readers about the comings and goings of members of The Royal Family. However, readers of this periodical seem interested in the comings and goings of Yes and of various alumni of this magnificent and long-standing band. Give the people what they want, I say
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| And that is - I am afraid - that, for this week. |
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| I am probably getting a bit OCD about all of this, but I find the Yes soap opera of sound to be absolutely enthralling, and I for one can't wait to see what happens next! |
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VELVET COFFIN
There once was a young rock band
who toured all over this land
They came to SXSW
Performed a midnight showcase
And no one ever heard from them again!
CERTAIN SOULS
Certain souls-they Kiss the Light in every lover's eye
You recognize by the Passion which propels them
as they try-to Light the Night-to Break the Ice-
to make the Real worth Dreaming About-
Take Billie Holliday-Ma Rainey-
Bessie Smith-Janis Joplin
They fought against the odds-they won -and lost
Their pockets picked by managers and conned by men
Still they Sang as if in a gas chamber-
They gave their Lives to stop the danger-
On the front line of Civilization you can see them-
Brave Olympians-with their Flames-Burning-
But if you met them backstage-after hours
You would have been puzzled -
by their unremarkable natures
Step on a stage-Release and Sway-
Watch how the World Changes-
There are Certain Souls who Kiss the Danger
and Tell every Stranger the Deepest Secrets-
They Whisper and Sing -with Brave Exploring-
The Pain of their Loss and their Failures-
Upon Release-every Poem becomes a Prayer-
a Chant-an Anthem-
upon Release-every Song Bird of Life
is Remembered as a Lover and a Gambler-
because Certain Souls-only Certain Souls-
Certain Souls-Must Sing! |
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In Victorian times every well-bred Gentleman had a 'Cabinet of Curiosities'; a collection of peculiar odds and sods, usually housed in a finely made cabinet with a glass door. These could include anything from Natural History specimens to historical artefacts. There has always been something of the Victorian amateur naturalist about me, and I have a houseful of arcane objects; some completely worthless, others decidedly not, but all precious to me for the memories they hold.
But people send me lots of pictures of interesting things such as this rather nifty Rick Wakeman songbook:
Read on... |
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| INTRODUCING THE NINE HENRYS |
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There are nine Henrys, purported to be the world’s first cloned cartoon character. They live in a strange lo-fi domestic surrealist world peopled by talking rock buns and elephants on wobbly stilts. They mooch around in their minimalist universe suffering from an existential crisis with some genetically modified humour thrown in. I think Peter McAdam is one of the funniest people around, and I cannot recommend his book The Nine Henrys highly enough. Check it out at Amazon. Each issue we shall be running a series of Henrybits that are not found in his book about the nine cloned cartoon characters who inhabit a surreal world nearly as insane as mine... |
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THE WORLD OF KEV
Kev Rowland |
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| THE BOB LAZAR STORY The Silence of Perez de Cuellar (INDIE) |
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| Matt followed up the 2006 release of ‘(sic)’ with this EP (another UFO reference in the title) the following year. No drum machine here (and in fact there are two drummers credited). This album is even more Zappa-esque than the previous one, with some wonderful bass/guitar/drum interplay as each musician is in perfect sync with the others. There are also some delicate vibraphones in the background at times, which also adds to the feel. This EP is more controlled than the previous one, with a seeming less spontaneity and more thought and layering. Matt has also ensured that everyone has their chance to shine, and there is a wonderfully poignant bass solo in “My Hand Looks Like A Brontosaurus” which is followed by some multi-layered guitars that takes it all to a new level. |
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| In many ways this is music that is incredibly complex, yet in others it is quite simple as it is all about clean lines and demarcation while bringing everything together in a wonderfully warm and non-clinical manner. There are times when everything is almost gentle in its’ approach, while at others it is a collision waiting to happen as the notes are flying everywhere yet it always maintains the patterns so that everyone comes through unscathed. This really is instrumental progressive jazz-influenced Zappa-influenced music as its’ very best. www.lucidbrucemusic.com |
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| THE BOB LAZAR STORY Space Roots (INDIE) |
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In 2009, Matt had the next album almost 95% written when he had to return to the UK for an extended period so all writing and recording stopped until he returned to NZ in 2012. At this point he got together all of the music from the various places it was stored, got in a friend to undertake all of the basswork, and put together an album.
It is thematic in the sense that it has a long track followed by a short one, the result being that the album contains some 19 songs in the end. In some ways it isn’t as consistent in its’ approach as the others, but given how the album came together it is really not at all surprising. Again we are treated to some wonderful instrumental numbers where I found that I ended up in a world where I really wanted to stay for a while. |
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This is music that definitely benefits from being played at headphones so that there are no distractions and all of the nuances (such as a simple acoustic guitar drop in for just one bar) are there to be heard.
The only positive about not coming across Matt before is that I was able to hear all three of his works in one go, the downside of course is that I am now hungry for more. He is a wonderful guitarist with some great eclectic ideas, and fans of Zappa and music that is made by real musicians really do need to hear this asap. Available, as are the others, as downloads from various places such as Bandcamp as well as CDs from his website at www.lucidbrucemusic.com. Below is his own guide to the album
“It’s Thirteen” (03.08)
From “The Aranui Sessions” recorded in June 2009. Clunky, quirky and heavy. Like your mother.
“Synthyer” (0.07)
Short but sweet.
“Two Vowels Contemplate The End Of The World” (05.26)
Longest track on the CD. Goes through several changes. No wanky prog solos.
“Fuhdstewl” (00.24)
Short but sweeter.
“Instant Jedi” (02.27)
One of the very few guitar solos features in the midst of another track from “The Aranui Sessions”.
“Rawk” (00.16)
Heavy, synthy, short. Drums by Chris Jago, who once played in goal against Robbie Fowler.
“Mr Weiner Pants” (02.54)
My old Headmaster used to wear his trousers very high. Lots of gear shifts in this one. Third track from “The Aranui Sessions”.
“Techno Bert vs The Klezzies” (00.41)
Eastern Europe meets game show meets Knight Rider on steroids.
“Alive In The Mullet Zone” (3.00)
Fearsome drums from The Jago. Riff-Tastic first half, Jazzy bit, then best solo ever by me. Someone once told me an old song of mine sounded like YYZ by Rush, so the last 4 notes pay homage to the end of that song.
“Deadbiking Trilogy” (04.49)
This one took ages to write. All synth for the first 2 parts, then multi layered guitar outro. Will be the hardest for rock fans to get into, but almost my favourite tune on the disc.
“Late Night Guitar” (00.42)
Four guitars, nowt else.
“Henry Kissinger Must Diet” (02.36)
The last of “The Aranui Sessions”. Starts in 9/4 and morphs into mellow jazz before heavy ending.
“Lou Reed’s Haemorrhoids” (00.10)
Lou Reed’s Haemorrhoids have more talent than Lou Reed.
“Rawk II” (03.22)
Heavy and synthy with a beautiful bass interlude from Fud.
“Death To The Meat Whores” (00.12)
Short but Swede.
“I Haven’t Touched Your Dog, Mate” (03.53)
Honestly, I haven’t. Mellower tune to break up the madness, although there is a heavy break in the middle.
“Widdly Diddly” (00.25)
Sequenced oddness.
“Glass Eyed II” (03.04)
Written to a pre-existing drum track. Heavy, jazzy, clunky.
“Siren” (01.15)
Thereminty. Mellow closer. |
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| KARDA ESTRA Mondo Profondo (BELIEVER’S ROAST) |
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So, Richard is back with his latest album, and as a bonus he has also included his 2011 album ‘New Worlds’ which was never actually released on CD, but was available only as a download.
Now, I gave that one 4 *’s when it came out so what about this one?
Well, while the cover of ‘New Worlds’ was bright and colourful (and is shown as the rear cover of the booklet, a nice touch), this one is much darker and immediately makes one think of ‘Voivode Dracula’ from 2004.
So, are we in for a dark gothic progressive classical soundscape? In some ways a definitely “yes”, while in others not so much. |
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There are times in this album when we are treated to an orchestral version of Goblin, capturing the dark cinematic essence that they are renowned for, while at others it is lighter and not nearly as oppressive and gothic (including what I can only think of as Star Trek meets 70’s cinema adverts). What I have always enjoyed about Richard’s work is his refusal to conform to what anyone thinks of his music and will not fit inside any particular musical form but instead does whatever he feels is right.
It could be argued that this isn’t progressive music, as it has much more in common with modern orchestral, yet he is using many different musical themes, instruments and mediums to create something that is layered, complex and refuses to be pigeonholed. The two albums contained in this one CD work really well together as they show different aspects of his work, and the fact that he brings in musicians to play all of the separate parts, instead of just using a synth to artificially create them, definitely gives his music a layer of class and sophistication often missing. In the past I have compared his work to Steve Hackett and Anthony Phillips among others, but really he is in a place of his own design as he melds and moulds his music to be far more visual and cinematic.
This CD definitely benefits from being played on headphones, and in the evening sat on the deck looking at the stars this is definitely the perfect accompaniment. www.kardaestra |
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| JOHANN WOLFGANG POZOJ Escape of Pozoj (CODE666) |
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| Johann Wolfgang Pozoj is an avant-garde black metal band from Croatia who formed in 2004 by combining two groups, Intoxicate and Grob. They released their debut album in 2006, the first part of a planned trilogy. The second part, ‘Escape of Pozoj’, was released in 2009, after which they were approached by Code666 who suggested that they revisit the concept and possibly re-record some of what they had already released. So, the debut ‘Birth of Pozoj’ was re-recorded and released in May 2011 and this followed in November of the same year. That these guys are tight are never in doubt, but for me it is somewhat let down by the production as the riffs and bleakness aren’t as powerful as I feel that they should be. The result is an album that contains many of the elements that I would expect from this type of music yet isn’t as over the top as I would expect it to be. |
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| I have played it a great deal, and I often feel that I am missing out on something as there are definitely hints of greatness in what they do, but they are too few and too far between although I know that many reviewers have raved over this, yet I feel unable to do so. There needs to be more menace and atmosphere for this to really work for me, but it is still an interesting album and something that black metal fans should investigate for themselves. www.auralmusic.com |
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