THE MUSIC THAT MADE ME: AN OCCASIONAL SERIES
PART 1: R.E.M.

Welcome then, to - as the above title suggests - an occasional series of posts looking back and celebrating the bands, artists and genres that have shaped my music listening life over these past four decades or so. These posts will delve deep into some of those touchstone acts and areas of music that are most important to me and have indeed made me the person I have become as I hurtle rapidly toward my half-century. Yikes.

First up - and this will come as absolutely no surprise to anybody out there who knows me well - are the mighty R.E.M. who have been my favourite band by some considerable distance for almost 35 years. I first discovered them - like so many other fantastic artists - whilst listening to the late and oh so very great John Peel on his Radio 1 show in the mid-80's and they quickly became the best band in the world as far as I was concerned. Since that rubicon moment, I purchased every single album - studio, best of, live, rarities, whatever - on it's day of release, as well as singles, collectibles and various flotsam related to the band. And, even though they didn't tour for 6 years during their all-encompassing early 90's heyday, I was lucky enough to later catch them live on a handful of glorious occasions. And finally, when their split was announced in 2011, there was a period of intense mourning as I realised that there would be no more music from this very special band. The split was amicable, and the band remain firm friends to this day, and even though I - like countless others - would love to see a full-blown reunion, they left us at the top of their game after 30 years and 15 albums. And you can't say that about too many bands, that's for sure.

R.E.M. - named, as AnyFuleNo, after the acronym for rapid eye movement or the dream stage of sleep - were formed in Athens, Georgia in 1980 when four local University students by the names of Michael Stipe, Peter Buck, Mike Mills and Bill Berry got together and bonded over a love of 60s folk-rock, 70s punk, art, poetry, photography and The Velvet Underground. Stipe became their lead singer and principal lyric writer whilst Buck, Mills and Berry knuckled down and mastered the guitars, bass and drums respectively. After hooking up with manager, and future 'fifth member' Jefferson Holt, and signing with the indie label I.R.S. Records, the band released their first EP - 'Chronic Town' - in 1981. A fully formed masterpiece containing 5 extraordinary tracks, the EP was an astonishing opening gambit from such a fresh-faced and inexperienced group. Combining Buck's love of the chiming Byrds-ian guitar jangle with Mills and Berry's driving rhythms behind him, the songs were topped off magnificently by Stipe's mysterious lyrics and his unique vocal style - at once low and mumbling but also high and keening and interspersed with yelps and howls that made him and the rest of the group stand out strikingly from most of the so-called new wave acts that were hitting big at the time.

The early critical response to their music was universally positive and subsequently the band didn't rest on their laurels, releasing 5 remarkable albums over the following 5 years including the classic 60's folk-rock infused harmonics of their debut 'Murmur' from 1983, and culminating with the huge sounding full-blown indie-rock valhalla of 1987's 'Document'. By this time, combined with years of solid world-wide touring, the band were on the cusp of greatness and hit singles - such as the phenomenal sonic boom of  The One I Love - were commonplace. In 1988 they signed a huge major label deal with Warner Brothers and released the quite brilliant 'Green' album which saw them taking their place at the top table of modern rock bands. Around this time the band also embraced their new-found success with gusto, becoming more robust and confident on stage whilst Stipe in particular metamorphosed from the shy and bookish enigma of their early appearances into a sharp, funny and in your face rock star partying with luminaries from across the creative spectrum. A monumental 18-month world tour followed by which time the group were burnt out. They took time off and returned in 1991 with the more reflective acoustic-based folk-rock of 'Out Of Time' which included the huge hit singles Losing My Religion and Shiny Happy People. All of a sudden, R.E.M. were everywhere and, even though they chose not to tour the album, they still managed to sell 12 million copies of it and found themselves hoovering up awards by the bucketload. The following year, the even more ruminative and sedate 'Automatic For The People' consolidated this gargantuan success with 15 million copies flying off the shelves and singles like Everybody Hurts becoming radio play staples to this day. At one point in 1993, it was stated that in terms of record sales and performance royalties, R.E.M. were officially the biggest band in the world at that time. It couldn't last of course, and even though there were more huge albums in the grunge filled uptempo rock of 'Monster' and the expansive, widescreen Americana of 'New Adventures In Hi-Fi' - as well as a return to gigantic stadium tours in the late 90s - by the time of the millennium the band's sales had dwindled and later albums, although full of good moments, weren't a patch on their imperial phase. It didn't help that drummer Bill Berry left the band in 1997 after suffering a huge health scare whilst touring. The remaining trio came close to calling it a day at that point but continued on with Stipe exclaiming about the band that "a three-legged dog is still a dog". To this day there are stalwart R.E.M. fans of 35-years standing who will argue the toss over whether they should have split when Berry left. I'm on the fence personally - there were stellar musical moments after his departure, but on the other hand they were never really the same. But, I would never have got to see them live if they had split then so I'm glad they kept going. The eventual break-up in 2011 - although sad - was definitely the right thing to do and they went out on a high with the lovely 'Collapse Into Now' album. Since then, all four members have remained close and have all - with the exception of Berry who is happy being a farmer - continued working in the arts with Stipe focusing on his first love of photography and Buck in particular throwing himself into various different musical projects. A money-spinning reunion tour is about as likely as Donald Trump becoming a likeable human being, so what we have left is an extraordinary musical legacy of a truly unique band.

My memories of R.E.M. over the years are indelibly imprinted into my psyche and have been some of the most important musical moments of my life: Hearing John Peel play Radio Free Europe in the mid 80's and marvelling at Buck's glorious arpeggiated guitar playing; spinning around at an indie disco in 1987 hopped on on snakebite and black as The One I Love thundered around my ears; jumping up and down like a loon to Stand in my grotty old Leatherhead bedsit in 1988 after purchasing 'Green' on CD; slumping down onto my chair in the same grotty bedsit 10 minutes later when the sublime majesty of the heartbreaking You Are The Everything poured out of the speakers; seeing the band perform Orange Crush on Top Of The Pops in 1989 as a shirtless Stipe bellowed into a megaphone; missing out on seeing them live on the Green Tour in 89 beacause I went to see - oh the horror - Bon Jovi instead; lying on the floor of my lodgings in April 1991 in the middle of the night with my headphones on listening to 'Out Of Time' over and over again the day it was released and realising that the band were going to become absolutely HUGE; travelling around Europe in the summer of 91 with a C90 mix tape of all their best tunes on constant rotation on my Walkman; listening to 'Automatic For The People' for the first time the following year with a catch in my throat for the full 50 minutes because it was just so bloody beautiful; finally seeing the band live in 1999 at Earl's Court on the 'Up' tour and somehow blagging my way into the VIP area stage right; seeing them again a few years later at the - for them - relatively tiny Brixton Academy when they rattled through 1985's 'Life's Rich Pageant' in full; watching them bring a small part of the city together in 2005 at Hyde Park a week after the London bombings and then bringing Patti Smith onstage with them to perform a spellbinding E-Bow The Letter; beginning to understand toward the end of their career that their 1991 track Country Feedback could well be one of the greatest songs ever written; watching them live for what turned out to be their final British gig at Twickenham in 2008 and being blown away by their righteous power; buying 'Collapse Into Now' the day it was released in 2011 and picking up on clues that it might be their final album but secretly hoping it wouldn't be; raising a glass of something suitably Southern to them when the news of their split was announced at the end of that year. They have been my constant since the middle of the 1980's and their music has been the most pivotal part of the soundtrack of my life - and, as such, they are the backbone of the music that made me. 
Thanks chaps - you were utterly tremendous.

TOP TEN R.E.M. ALBUMS:

1: GREEN
2: MURMUR
3: AUTOMATIC FOR THE PEOPLE
4: RECKONING
5: OUT OF TIME
6: LIFE'S RICH PAGEANT
7: MONSTER
8: NEW ADVENTURES IN HI-FI
9: DOCUMENT
10: UP

TOP TWENTY R.E.M. SONGS:

1: COUNTRY FEEDBACK
2: PERFECT CIRCLE
3: YOU ARE THE EVERYTHING  

4: THE WRONG CHILD
5: PRETTY PERSUASION
6: RADIO FREE EUROPE
7: WORLD LEADER PRETEND
8: HALF A WORLD AWAY
9: SWEETNESS FOLLOWS
10: FALL ON ME
11: DON'T GO BACK TO ROCKVILLE
12: SO. CENTRAL RAIN
13: TALK ABOUT THE PASSION
14: DRIVE
15: IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT (AND I FEEL FINE)
16: ELECTROLITE
17: DRIVER 8
18: MAN ON THE MOON
19: CUYAHOGA
20: NEW TEST LEPER
21: LET ME IN
22: E-BOW THE LETTER
23: LOSING MY RELIGION
24: THE ONE I LOVE
25: FIND THE RIVER

LIVE IN LONDON!!!
January, February, March & April 2019

     
Time, once again, to take a little look back at the finest live moments that the year of 2019 has had to offer throughout it's first third. Summer is almost upon us - and that means t-shirt weather, big outdoor gigs and festivals that lay on the finest bands and artists from all over the globe. However, the first few months of each year always throw up some real highlights gig-wise, and although it can sometimes be a tad difficult to raise oneself from the sofa and leave the warm comforts of home when the weather is as inclement as it can sometimes get during our wonderful winters, I grabbed my coat on a fair few occasions and braved the elements for some stellar events.

There was only one gig in January that was attractive enough for me to leave the house for and that was a sparkling solo set from My Morning Jacket's hirsute head honcho Jim James, who popped over to Camden to perform as part of the In The Round series at the venerable old Roundhouse theater. Ostensibly touring Europe on the back of last year's excellent 'Uniform Distortion' and 'Uniform Clarity' albums, James arrived on stage dressed accordingly for the chilly North London air in a long, black frock coat and chunky boots.

Flanked by a myriad of acoustic and electric guitars, JJ proceeded to thrill the faithful following who'd made the trip out with glorious versions of MMJ classics like Dondante, Golden, Hillside Song and I'm Amazed, as well as a handful of tunes from the 'Uniform' albums such as All In Your Head, Throwback, and the really rather fantastic No Use Waiting. Extra marks too for a fabulous version of Here In Spirit from 2016's criminally overlooked 'Eternally Even' album. His falsetto was on spectral form and there were a smattering of hilarious 'on tour' style anecdotes to lighten the mood. He ended the set with a brace of cuts from his first solo album 'Regions Of Light And Sound Of God' and left the stage with the sound of chiming feedback in our ears. A lovely way to start 2019's gigular travails.

February kicked off in fine style with a welcome return to the UK for early 90's indie-rock hero and - to his eternal chagrin - bubblegrunge dreamboat Evan Dando who brought his current Lemonheads lineup to Kentish Town's Forum to promote the recently released 'Varshons 2' album. Dando has been enduring a hefty case of writer's block in recent times and thusly, the new album is only his first in ten years and follows on from 2009's 'Varshons 1' - both records being collections of cover versions. His personal travails and various addictions over the last couple of decades seem to have caused his once fecund writing abilities to dry up completely. A real shame as his early 90's albums - especially the still magisterial 'It's A Shame About Ray' - are as good as it gets. The new record doesn't pull up any trees particularly but some of the covers, which include tracks by The Jayhawks, Nick Cave and the Eagles, are quite lovely. In the main though, it's a very loose and laid-back affair - pretty much like Dando himself these days, who ambles onto the stage at this gig looking like he hasn't changed his clothes in a week and in dire need of a warm bath. Backed by a four-piece band, including long-time Lemonheads stalwart Chris Brokaw on lead guitar, Dando proceeds to take the expectant audience on a rambling and ramshackle journey through his nigh-on 35 year career. Holding firm to the sound of his beloved country-rock shuffles - recent pics have shown Dando still wearing that faded Gram Parsons tee he was sporting in the 90's - the band touch on the new album only twice which is typical Dando, choosing instead to barrell through a whole host of other covers from the likes of Teenage Fanclub and John Lennon. There is of course, tons of his classic alt-indie hits to keep the crowd happy with sterling renditions of the joyously uplifting Into Your Arms, the fantastically janglesome Confetti, the call and response wonder of Down About It and the frankly peerless alt-rock nirvana of Rudderless. All the while, the band coalesce together gloriously and Dando's vocals - which, considering the battering that heroin has given his body in the past - are still deep, resonant and warm. His solo acoustic interludes were especially pleasing with the still eyebrow-raising candour of Big Gay Heart and the utterly wonderful paean to ennui of The Outdoor Type standing tall and strong. The latter also contains possibly the finest couplet he's ever written too: "I can't go away with you on a rock-climbing weekend. What if something's on TV and it's never shown again? Just as well I'm not invited, I'm afraid of heights. I lied about being the outdoor type". Just tremendous. All told, the gig was a joyous affair full of lively ups and few downs - although it ended in farce with the band overrunning and the sound being cut which caused Dando to fly off the handle somewhat and launch a full bottle of wine onto the stage which promptly bounced straight into the front row. To his credit, he was quickly down into the throng to check for injuries and he left the stage to a standing ovation. Still ploughing his own furrow and doing his own thing, this very mercurial of songwriters is always worth watching - if only we could have a new album though, eh mate?

Later in February, Texan chooglemeisters White Denim strolled back to The Roundhouse for a quite extraordinary 30-song shimmy through their increasingly brilliant back catalogue. I saw the band at the same venue a few years ago and - along with a dreadfully muddy sound - they seemed a little over-awed by the experience. Not so now. Looking chilled and relaxed on stage and giving off the vibe that this is where they're supposed to be, lead vocalist/guitarist James Petralli and his cohorts dipped into every one of their seven albums - including the new 'Side Effects' opus - and put on a show of sparkling power and striking musicianship. Coming across like the greatest jam band in the world, the tunes were full of hip-shaking moves and head-rattling grooves.

With a set-list this long and strong there was no time for chat as the band thundered through the songs like The Grateful Dead on speed. Highlights were plentiful with the likes of It Might Get Dark, Had To Know, Drug and last year's magnificent Double Death all hitting the spot in a deliciously downhome and delightfully driving manner. Musically the band have never been better with Petralli's storming guitar work raising their game to a whole new level. Magnificently thrilling stuff. (Extra marks too for playing my favourite ever WD tune in the shape of the sublime A Place To Start.) 
There was just time for one more gig in February - and another jaunt to Camden - as the creaky old Dingwall's venue on the lock played host to one of the best new bands to come out of the tremendously exciting Australian psych-rock scene. Perth's Psychedelic Porn Crumpets - crazy name, crazy guys - have taken up the gauntlet thrown down by fellow countrymen Tame Impala and King Gizzard And The Lizard Wizard and veered off down into their own tie-dyed rabbit hole with their recent 'High Visceral' two-part album collection. A raucous,tumbling and careering bunch of tunes shot through with massive riffs and retina-sizzling choruses, the albums showcase the band's special style of acid-fried psych to quite wonderful effect. A four-piece bunch of hairies clad in bright colours and constantly smiling, the guys sound like they're having the time of their lives and once on stage, they prove it time and time again.

An absolutely barnstorming hour and a half of in your face rock music and burrow in your brain psych-frenzied crunchy tuneage that was one of the most purely enjoyable gigs I've been to in some time. Monster tunes like Cornflake, Dependant On Mary and the mighty Surf's Up should be sacred texts for any psych fans out there. Frontman Jack McEwan is the band's secret weapon - his melodic vocals selling the songs wonderfully whilst his virtuoso guitar work blends brilliantly with fellow axeman Luke Parish. Behind them, Danny Caddy and Luke Reynolds are a rhythm section from the gods - all thumping drums and fluid bass-lines. The gig was a hot, noisy and splendidly sweat-inducing affair and I had the real sense - as I peeled my t-shirt off when I got home - that this is just the start for them. Their new album is out soon and I implore you to get involved. They really are a very special combo - watch them fly.

Into March then with a nostalgia-tinged return to the live arena for late 90's post-Britpop balladeers Embrace. Hailing from Halifax and built around the McNamara brothers - vocalist Danny and lead guitarist Richard - Embrace were pegged, due to their sibling similarities, as the new Oasis when their first couple of EP's were released in 1997. There was always something a little more emotionally affecting about them though for me and when the band's debut album 'The Good Will Out' was released the following year, it was obvious to many - the record went straight to number one in the charts - that they were a more interesting proposition than most of the whey-faced, kagoule wearing northern lads that were being signed hand over fist by record labels eager to cash in on the Britpop shilling. The bolshie, let's have it style rockers were all present and correct of course but there were also gloriously uplifting string-laden piano ballads that plucked at the heart-strings and brought lumps to throats in a way that Oasis could only dream about. For whatever reason, that first flush of success never really held firm for Embrace and subsequent albums waxed and waned commercially whilst bands like Travis and Coldplay swooped in and took over the same demographic. The band - now a five piece consisting of the McNamara brothers, original members Mike Heaton on drums and bassist Steve Firth, as well as keyboardist Mickey Dale - have continued making music ever since with 2017's 'Love Is A Basic Need' being their most recent release. When it was announced late last year that they would be touring the UK to celebrate the 21st anniversary of that superb debut album by performing it in full, I was intrigued but not overly swayed. However, I gave the album a listen for the first time in years and remembered just why I loved it in the first place - so off I went. And I'm so glad I did. The Roundhouse was absolutely rammed - indeed, the whole tour has been a complete sell-out - and with a backdrop containing the group's name in giant lights, the lads strolled on to a rapturous reception that you could tell really affected them. It took a full 5 minutes before the band could launch into the album's first track - the still stirring All You Good Good People - and then that was it. I don't think I've ever attended a gig where every single line has been sung so loudly and so lovingly by pretty much every single soul in the room. I knew this album was popular and means a lot to people, but there were big, grizzled ugly lumps of manflesh in this room who were shedding fat, salty tears of joy throughout. Punch the air moments were plentiful with the likes of One Big Family, You've Got To Say Yes and the thumping rush of The Last Gas raising the roof but it was those goosebump-inducing softer moments that stood out with Retread, Fireworks and the utterly sublime That's All Changed Forever causing mass singalogs and hugs with strangers that will live long in my memory. Back in the day, Danny's less than stellar vocal ability was always the stick that was used to bash this band over the head, but (even though it always worked for me) 20 odd years at the coalface has improved his singing immensely and on the stunning Higher Sights for example - which caused a 50-something chap with a face like a stevedore next to me to weep uncontrollably - he hit the top notes with aplomb. The set ended, as we all knew it would, with the album's magnificent title track - complete with swelling strings, thunderous drums and a crescendo of  "na na na's" that shook the venue's very foundations. With the band themselves on superb form musically, and Danny constantly thanking the throng for sticking by the group through thick and thin over the years, this was obviously hugely important to the guys. Here's hoping the success of the tour - there's another couple of huge sold-out gigs to come at Alexandra Palace in December - will carry on into the next stage of their career. The good will out indeed...

    

I was back in Camden two weeks later at the dark and dingy delight that is Our Black Heart - the more discerning rock fan's bar of choice - for a cracking evening of doomy, bone-shaking psych-rock from Sweden's MaidaVale. Consisting of Matilda Roth on vocals, Sofia Strom on guitar, bassist Linn Johannesson and Johanna Hansson on drums, the band were formed in 2012 on the isle of Gotland just off the coast of Stockholm in the Baltic Sea. Leaning toward the hypnotic grooves of the 70's Krautrock scene and melding it with the crunchy riffs of Sabbath and the bluesy swagger of the late 60's psychedelic era, the band have released two albums with this year's 'Madness Is Too Pure' raising the bar and allowing them to finally come over to the UK for this debut London gig.

A pulverising hour or so of mind-melding sturm und drang, this remarkably accomplished quartet ebbed and flowed through a host of new tunes such as the coruscating Gold Mind and the brain-rattling Dark Clouds with a confidence and maturity which belies their short time together. Roth's vocal stylings are very much in the mould of early 70's howlers like the long lost Edna Bejarano from perennial pub-quiz question stalwarts The Rattles, or even a latter-day Bjork - if the Icelandic superstar had ever set up camp with Blue Cheer. The rhythm section keep things locked in throughout but it's Strom on guitar who is the real revelation tonight with gutar licks and solos that were good enough to peel your eyebrows off. Searing stuff from top to bottom.

And finally, for this glance back at the first few months of 2019's finest gigs, it was off to Shepherd's Bush and the creaky old Empire for the second year of the Love From Stourbridge travelling extravaganza. This time last year, I relived my raggle-taggled baggy-short sporting youth with a tremendously lively evening in the company of that quirky little hamlet's favourite sons Ned's Atomic Dustbin and The Wonderstuff. I posted a full and thorough review of said gig on this blog at the time - check out the archive for April 2018 - and a fine time was had by all. A slightly rejigged lineup for this year's jaunt around the UK - the tour also took in Sheffield, Manchester, Bristol, Birmingham and Glasgow - saw the full Wonderstuff show replaced by frontman Miles Hunt doing a short acoustic set to kick things off, and last year's half-time DJ Graeme Crabb from Pop Will Eat Itself hooking up with the current Poppies lineup for a storming blast through their seminal second album 'This Is The Day, This Is The Hour....This Is This!' Upon it's release in 1989, 'This Is.....' was like nothing else around at the time meshing together a whole host of influences like punk rock, hip-hop, rave culture and heavy metal - all overlayed with pop-culture samples and electronic flourishes that still stand the test of time today. Garnering three huge hit singles in Def.Con.One, Can U Dig It? and Wise Up Sucker! the album laid the ground work for the Poppies assault on the charts over the next few years. The classic lineup of Crabb, guitarist Richard March, drummer Fuzz Townsend and main vocalist Clint Mansell disbanded in the mid-90's with Mansell going on to become ridiculously successful in Hollywood with his Oscar-winning soundtrack work. Various different Poppies lineups - all helmed by Crabb - have been doing the rounds over the last few years but for this tour, both March and Townsend are back in the fold.

After Hunt's joyous little acoustic set - which covered all the Wonderstuff peaks - Crabb and the PWEI crew bound on to the stage and pretty much blow the roof off. As was the same here in 2018, 40-something maladies like aching backs and dodgy knees are forgotten about as mosh pits are attempted and tibia threatening pogoing is the order of the day. The singles raise the biggest cheers, but album tracks such as Sixteen Different Flavours Of Hell, Inject Me and the mighty Wake Up...Time To Die are just as much of a head rush as they were back in the day. Fabulously exciting. 
Just like last year, Ned's Atomic Dustbin close the show and - just like last year - as there's no new music to promote or no album anniversary to celebrate, singer Jon Penney and the gang carry on doing what they've been doing for the past few years and roll out the classics one after another. I've always maintained that, just like fellow Black Country boys The Wonderstuff, the Ned's are one of the UK's finest 'single release' bands. Their albums - with the honourable exception of the classic 'God Fodder' - have been up and down but the hits have always been top-notch and seeing the band power through all the classics live only reiterates that theory for me. With the rest of the band - Rat on guitar, the double bass playing whammy of Matt and Alex and Dan Dan The Drumming Man - thundering away behind him, Penney (and his idiosyncratic dancing style) has an absolute ball bounding around through absolute blinders like Until You Find Out, Not Sleeping Around, Cut Up, Stuck and the frankly bloody brilliant frenzy of Throwing Things. To then finish the set with a quintet of tunes as strong as the big hit Happy, Grey Cell Green, Intact, the adrenaline-inducing Kill Your Television and quite glorious Selfish just reminds me yet again of how full of vim and songwriting chops the Ned's were during that odd little period for UK indie music in the early 90's. On the evidence of the last two year's worth of Stourbridge musical nostalgia, I'll be well up for a third round of grebo-tastic goodness. 

     

VIDEO OF THE WEEK:
LEVEL 42 - THE SUN GOES DOWN (LIVIN IT UP)

Another No Static At All fave left us this week with the announcement of the death of Rowland 'Boon' Gould, founding member of early 80's BritFunkers Level 42. Taking their name from the "ultimate meaning of life" from Douglas Adams' classic novel The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, lead guitarist Boon - along with his brother Phil on drums, lead vocalist and slap-bass pioneer Mark King and keyboard wiz Mike Lindup - soon broke away from the constraints of their early funk sound and embraced the mid-80's pop smarts and catchy choruses of the big chart-bothering bands of the day. Selling millions of records and garnering huge hit singles with the likes of Something About You, Lessons In Love, Running In The Family, It's Over and To Be With You Again, the future seemed set fair for Level 42 to become one of the decade's biggest bands. Their trajectory was stymied though after Boon - who suffered from crippling panic attacks - left the band at the height of their success in 1987. Although the rest of the band soldiered on without him, they were never really the same again. Phil Gould also left not long afterward and, whilst King and Lindup have continued to tour and record ever since, the core quartet only played together one more time in 2012. Boon was found dead at his home earlier this week having passed away at the age of 64. The band were at their very best when he was with them, and his funk-infused guitar frills were - along with King's fantastically fluid basslines - a real joy. RIP old chap.