VIDEOS OF THE WEEK:
The Best Tunes On Current Release

So much fantastic music out there at the moment that I couldn't possibly just choose one video of the week for this post so I'm more than happy to regale my readership with a whole bunch of stupendous clips to ease you into the Autumn now that summer has waved us goodbye. Most of these artists will no doubt be jostling for position at the sharp end of No Static At All's Top 50 Albums Of The Year list in a few short months time. Once again, this year has been a tremendously fruitful and exciting one for new music. Long may this state of affairs continue. 

We start with the return to the fray of Justin Vernon and his Bon Iver collective. Fourth album "i,i" - again with those weird titles - is another sparkling collection of electronica-infused, harmony-laden and folk-tinged Americana that soothes, caresses and embraces the listener right from the top. Lead track Hey, Ma could have found a home quite easily on Vernon's second Bon Iver opus from 2011 which means it's one of his finest tracks. Glorious, as ever.

Lionel and Marie Liminana have taken some time out from their day job as the main thrust behind terrifically exciting garage-rock crew The Liminanas and have hooked up with frequent collaborators Anton Newcombe from The Brian Jonestown Massacre and actress/singer Emmanuelle Seigner to produce a wonderful set of driving indie-rock, jangly surf-pop and psych-drenched Gallic cool. If you have even the smallest slice of love for any of the protagonists other work, then you're absolutely going to adore this.

The reunion a few years ago of Oxfordian shoegaze titans Ride was a real thing of wonder for your faithful scribe. Hugely popular with the indie kids in the early 90's - and the architects of the classic albums 'Nowhere' and 'Going Blank Again' - the floppy-fringed quartet called it a day in 94, just missing out on the Britpop explosion that they had arguably been instrumental in forming. The comeback 5 years ago started with the usual greatest hits and albums in full performances before 2017's brand new 'Weather Diaries' opus upped the stakes and sent Ride into new territory, leading to chart success and sold out worldwide tours - all of which was thoroughly deserved. They're back again with the reliably excellent 'This Is Not A Safe Place' and it's wonderful to see them gaining the critical respect and kudos that eluded them back in the day.

Mid-90's Washington State bred riot-grrrl trio Sleater-Kinney have been through many ups and downs during their career, culminating in an 8 year sabbatical before returning refreshed and full of vigour for 2015's magnificently in your face slab of alt-rock that was 'No Cities To Love'. Far and away their most successful album, the big question of how to follow it up has been answered in spades with the stupendous 'The Center Won't Hold'. Produced by art-rock doyenne St. Vincent, the record sees principal duo Carrie Brownstein and Corin Tucker embrace huge swathes of synth-pop and thumping glam-based rock and roll for a real volte-face that sadly has seen long-serving drummer Janet Weiss leave the band under something of a cloud. Despite this setback though, the music shines through quite brilliantly.

And finally, and even though I've already previously posted a new Angel Olsen track, I make no apologies for posting her latest single. Taken from next week's long-awaited fourth Olsen opus 'All Mirrors', this quite astonishing meld of orchestral strings, brain-caressing synths and powerhouse production could well be her finest hour. It's a tough listen certainly - the end of a relationship has never sounded more intensely heartbreaking - but, as usual with Olsen, her lyrics and the incredible way she sings them sweep over you in such an all-encompassing way that you're right there in the dark with her, desperate to take her hand and bring her out into the light. On this evidence, the new album could well bag my top spot at the end of December. Watch this space....

OBITUARIES:
Neal Casal 1968 - 2019
Daniel Johnston 1961 - 2019
Ric Ocasek 1944 - 2019

More sad losses within the rock and roll universe over the last couple of weeks as we bow down and wish a fond farewell to three huge No Static At All faves in the forms of legendary Cars frontman Ric Ocasek, cult alt-rock singer/songwriter Daniel Johnston and the Americana/folk rock polymath Neal Casal. All three revered gents have been mainstays of my record collection over the last few decades and will be sorely missed. 

Ocasek - who has died of heart failure at the age of 75 - was possibly the least likely looking rock star in all of recorded music history. Ridiculously tall, beanpole thin and very rarely seen without his trademark dark glasses, he was about as far removed from a mega-selling frontman as it's possible to imagine. However, during their imperial phase of the late 70's and early 80's, his band The Cars were as big as bands get in America. Their self-titled debut album flew off the shelves and stayed in the upper reaches of the Billboard chart for nigh on three years. Bursting with gloriously life-affirming power-pop and 50's inspired rock and roll - best exemplified by the peerless My Best Friend's Girl - the album struck a chord with American youth who hadn't quite got to grips with the whole punk rock thing, as well as their parents who recognised the Beatles influenced pop smarts throughout Ocasek's songwriting. More classic albums followed and hit singles were plentiful: Just What I Needed, Since You're Gone, Shake It Up, You Might Think. The band were at the vanguard of the US new wave explosion of the early 80's with a sound that embraced angular art-rock, AOR balladry and driving rock/pop that eventually mellowed into bombastic power ballad territory in the mid-80s when they finally broke into the UK mainstream with their gargantuan hit Drive. By this time, tensions were running high between Ocasek and the band's other principal songwriter Ben Orr. Ocasek left the band in 1987 and after a middling couple of solo albums, threw himself into production helming albums by bands who were heavily influenced by that classic Cars sound: Weezer, No Doubt, Nada Surf, Hole and The Cribs. There was a short-lived Cars reunion in 2010 but Ocasek was more happy behind the mixing desk and living a quiet life with his wife and sons. 

Daniel Johnston - who has left us at the far too young age of 58 - was a real anomaly in that crazy alternative rock explosion of the early 90's. Feted by many of the big grunge era bands - famously, Kurt Cobain wore a Johnston t-shirt pretty much solidly throughout the 'Nevermind' treadmill of 1991 - their patronage of his abilities got him signed by Atlantic Records who released one album before realising that they were unable to carry on working with him. Perhaps if they had taken enough time to investigate Johnston's history then they would have left him alone. Johnston was a bi-polar manic depressive - before such mental illnesses were that well known - and he had struggled throughout his life to come to terms with his issues, as well as his schizophrenia that had been diagnosed in the early 90's.

 He had spent a fair amount of time in mental institutions and had spent most of his life outside hospitals squirreled away in the basement of his parent's home, recording countless cassette tapes of his lo-fi love songs and vignettes on life and death. Armed with nothing more than a cheap, out of tune keyboard and a beaten up acoustic guitar, this astonishing hoard of tunes would be given away by Johnston in their hundreds at gigs and record shops throughout his home town of Austin, Texas. Embracing ramshackle folk, woozy alt-rock and a spare, haunted strain of Americana, Johnston's songs eventually reached the ears of the great and good of the burgeoning underground US rock scene that was just about to tip over into the mainstream. Johnston regularly appeared with some of these artists as a tour support but found the idea of playing live increasingly difficult - on one occasion in Australia, he fled the stage after three songs, apologising profusely but leaving the assembled audience in tears because of the beauty of the songs he did play. Johnston carried on writing and releasing songs by himself for many years after, seemingly not that bothered about any form of financial gain. He had also spent many years drawing and painting, showing his work in exhibitions across America and publishing comics as well. In the mid noughties, his story was told - brilliantly but heartbreakingly - in the excellent documentary 'The Devil And Daniel Johnston', and there was also a fantastic tribute album released with artists such as Tom Waits, Beck, Wilco, Eels, Mercury Rev and The Flaming Lips covering his songs and bringing in some much needed monetary assistance. In recent years he had been dogged with physical ill health which, along with his previously diagnosed issues, had stopped him from travelling and touring. He had continued to live at his parent's old house and leaves a brother, Dick, who had spent his whole adult life taking care of Daniel's affairs. Daniel Johnston's life wasn't a happy one but, with the legacy of songs that he left us with - such as the truly heart-wrenching True Love Will Find You In The End - it was one filled with a unique talent that will be very much missed. 

Finally in this little tribute to fallen heroes we say goodbye to Neal Casal who has tragically taken his own life at the age of 50. Born in New Jersey, Casal followed his muse down to California where - after a few years as a session guitarist - he recorded a bunch of well-received Americana albums under his own name, including the excellent 1998 opus 'Basement Dreams'. After a couple more solo records, Casal formed the short-lived band Hazey Malaze before retiring the band to join Ryan Adams in his latest venture The Cardinals. Appointed as lead guitarist and co-songwriter, Casal appeared on 5 albums with Adams before leaving to pursue other projects.

Those projects included putting together three other bands - GospelBeach, Hard Working Americans and The Skiffle Players - as well as collaborating with artists as varied as Lucinda Williams, James Iha, Willie Nelson, Mark Olson, Vetiver and Minnie Driver. In recent years, Casal had hooked up with former Black Crowes nabob Chris Robinson and had become an integral part of Robinson's Grateful Dead inspired groovesters The CR Brotherhood. He had also formed another psych-rock infused instrumental jam band called Circles Around The Sun. Throughout all of this stellar work, Casal's laid-back guitar playing and easy on the ear vocal delivery were both full of a relaxed charm and were a joy to listen to and to watch live. He had been touring solidly this summer with The Brotherhood before returning home for a short break before the tour's resumption. A really talented guy and a life gone too soon.

Here's a clip of the surviving members of The Cars - minus Ben Orr who died in 2000 - performing the utterly splendid Just What I Needed at their Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame induction ceremony last year. This may very well be Ric Ocasek's final live performance.

Recent clips of Daniel Johnston performing make for a heartbreaking watch - and this one is no exception. However, the spine-tingling beauty of this song makes it almost impossible not to post here as an accompanying video to the above obituary. He truly was a complete one of a kind artist.

Finally, here's a three year old clip of Chris Robinson and His Brotherhood - featuring the late Neal Casal on fabulous lead guitar - absolutely OWNING Bob Dylan's It's All Over Now Baby Blue. Just wonderful.

The Return Of Angel Olsen!

Way back in January of 2017 when I first started this little blog of mine, my first major post was a thorough rundown of the previous year's best albums. For most of 2016, the late great David Bowie was pretty much nailed-on to bag the number one spot with his astonishing final album 'Blackstar'. However, right at the death, Missouri native Angel Olsen - who had released two previous albums that hinted at greatness - upset the applecart somewhat with her truly remarkable 'My Woman' opus. A stunning collection of modern-day folk and country-tinged indie-rock, the album set Olsen apart from her peers in staggering style - showcasing her top-drawer songwriting talent and her fantastic vocal chops in a major way. After touring that record solidly for a good 18 months, Olsen released 'Phases' - a collection of B-sides and offcuts - before retreating back home to write her forthcoming fourth album. Released in October, 'All Mirrors' looks set to be nestling very snugly at the summit of No Static At All's Top 50 Albums Of 2019 come December. The first taste of Olsen's new material is this gloriously swoonsome title track, drenched in swathes of delicious strings and synths with Olsen's lyrics touching on the passing of time and, as she sings in the song's chorus:
 "Losing beauty, at least at times it knew me..." 
Spellbinding stuff.

DAVID BERMAN R.I.P.

"In 1984 I was hospitalised for approaching perfection...."

Tragic news from the rock and roll firmament this week as it was announced that American singer/songwriter David Berman - he of the massively underrated Silver Jews - has passed away at the age of 52. A hugely talented individual, Berman was also famed for his poetry as well as publishing a book of cartoons. It will, however, be his musical legacy that will stand the test of time, and what a body of work it was. Formed in the early 90's, Silver Jews were sprung from the same experimental and lo-fi indie scene that birthed Royal Trux, Palace Brothers and Pavement. Indeed, Stephen Malkmus - who later led Pavement to huge critical success - was originally a member of the Jews collective. Over the next decade, Berman and a revolving door of musicians and collaborators released a handful of truly great records including 1998's masterful 'American Water' (featuring the utterly sublime Random Rules which you can view above) which came closest to breaking Berman and his band into the wider consciousness. It never quite happened for him commercially though and, after a few more years of constant recording and touring, Berman retired the Silver Jews name and remained inactive for the next decade or so. He re-appeared only last month with a brand new album of glorious songs under his new Purple Mountains moniker. Garnering 5 star reviews across the board, this latest album was already set fair to be way up there in most listeners best records of 2019 before the desperately sad new of Berman's death filtered through.

David Berman was a songwriter and lyricist of great power and truly devastating emotional heft, marrying his wry, literate worldview to a sparkling combination of indie-rock discordia, ramshackle folk stylings and a swooning chime-filled strain of Americana. His songwriting skills were quite rightly feted by many, with a recent Guardian review of his new album suggesting that "you won't find a better lyric sheet all year". Plagued by depression, anxiety and no stranger to drug addiction - as well as previous suicide attempts - Berman's adult life was one of sadness and struggle. A recent admission to the world that his father was none other than Richard Berman, the infamous lawyer and lobbyist who had spent his working life defending gun, alcohol and big pharma companies and was otherwise known as 'Doctor Evil', no doubt contributed to his sense of unworthiness. With the Purple Mountains album now on the shelves, Berman was preparing for a North American tour this autumn but was found dead at his home last week. The death was ruled as suicide.

Rest in power David and untold thanks for all the music. 

"We're gonna live in Nashville and I'll make a career, out of writing sad songs and getting paid by the tear..." 

David Berman 1967 - 2019

HALF-TERM REPORT!!!

The Best Ten Albums Of The Year...So Far!!!

Somehow, we've suddenly arrived at the mid-way point of 2019 and it's time - once again - to have a little peruse at the best records that have been released this year and burrowed their way into my shell-likes, refusing to depart and staking their claim to be top dog and the El Supremo come December. There's been some absolute crackers so far and listening to them all has been a joy. It does have to be said however, that even though personal No Static At All faves like Ride, Tool, Pearl Jam and the mighty Pixies are all thrilling us with new albums later this year, if any of them topple my current Number One I'll be very surprised indeed.... 

Here's the current runners and riders then. In reverse order, natch...

10: STEPHEN MALKMUS: 'GROOVE DENIED'

9:  FOALS: 'EVERYTHING NOT SAVED WILL BE LOST PART 1'

8:  WEYES BLOOD: 'TITANIC RISING'

7:  SHARON VAN ETTEN: 'REMIND ME TOMORROW'

6:  SUN KIL MOON: 'I ALSO WANT TO DIE IN NEW ORLEANS'

5:  SWERVEDRIVER: 'FUTURE RUINS'

4:  JENNY LEWIS: 'ON THE LINE'

3:  THE NATIONAL: 'I AM EASY TO FIND'

2:  STRAND OF OAKS: 'ERASERLAND'

1:  WH LUNG: 'INCIDENTAL MUSIC'

OBITUARIES
Roky Erickson 1947 - 2019
Mac 'Dr. John' Rebennack 1941 - 2019

Another sad brace of losses within the rock and roll universe this month as psych-rock pioneer and acid-fried boogie mainstay Roky Erickson passed from this realm to the next where he will no doubt hook up with one of New Orlean's favourite sons and progenitor of the loose-limbed and fluidly funky gumbo of Louisiana boogie-woogie - the one and only Dr. John. Both of these highly revered gents were masters of their particular craft and, although both suffered intense ups and downs throughout their respective careers, they ended up more successful than perhaps they'd ever been and subsequently will be remembered for many years to come. 

Roky - originally Roger - Erickson was born in Dallas and, after a reasonably stable childhood, he first veered off into the outskirts of 'normal' society by dropping out of high school in 1965 months before graduation after refusing to cut his hair. Stick it to the man, my son! Almost immediately he formed the nascent 13th Floor Elevators and he and the band were soon on their way - like many other like-minded heads - to San Francisco where they were immediately embraced whole-heartedly into the burgeoning Haight-Ashbury psychedelic scene. The band's first album - the still searing 'Psychedelic Sounds Of The 13th Floor Elevators' - followed soon after and garnered a minor hit single in You're Gonna Miss Me. The album was a startling meld of raucous garage rock, trippy psych and free-wheeling country rock that hit a nerve throughout the local scene and it's follow-up opus - the more expansive and brain-rattling 'Easter Everywhere' - continued the trend, in particular it's signature tune Slip Inside This House. The band were all set to break through into the mainstream when tragedy struck. Like most late 60's rock bands, Erickson and company were healthy purveyors of any drug they could get their hands on and Erickson in particular was full-on, as they say. Sadly, his copious intake caused him untold problems and he was eventually sent to a psychiatric hospital where he was forced to undergo electroconvulsive therapy. This led to further problems, including multiple stints in prison for drug offences. It is obvious now that he was suffering from mental illness, but 50 years ago these kinds of ailments were not spoken of and usually blamed on erratic behaviour and drug use. After his early 70's incarcerations, Erickson muddled through life trying to keep on top of his psychological issues but steering clear of music in a way that reminded one of his British counterpart, Pink Floyd's tragic genius Syd Barrett. Eventually though, after years of treatment and family help, Erickson returned to the fray in the late 90's and over the next 20 years built up a solid career of touring and the odd recorded work, joining forces with the likes of Billy Gibbons, Henry Rollins, Mogwai and Okkervil River along the way. His early songs have also been covered by many - the most famous being Primal Scream's gorgeous re-working of Slip Inside This House on their seminal 1991 'Screamadelica' album. It's unlikely that back in 1968, when he was first institutionalized, Erickson would have forseen such a life and career but his legacy will live on. His songwriting skills were sublime - just check out that first album for proof - and his guitar work was extraordinary. He was a true maverick of outsider rock and roll and, for my money, he thoroughly deserves a seat at the top table of psych-rock heavyweights. Rock on, Roky.

New Orleans native Dr. John - or Malcolm John Rebennack Jr to his mum - grew up in an extraordinarily musical neighbourhood, with most of his immediate family playing instruments of one kind or another and singing in minstrel bands and jazz groups. Hooking up, at age 13, with Louisiana legend Proffesor Longhair and gravitating toward the guitar, Rebennack soon found himself jostling for space and recognition amongst the heavily populated session musician scene of New Orleans. Gaining regular work from the mid-50's onwards, he played on sessions by jazz and blues legends such as James Booker, Earl King and Frankie Ford before injuring his finger in a gunfight that pushed him toward the piano, from where he tried to maintain his early momentum. However, the lure of the dark side was always there, and after a few run-ins with the local police, he found himself in prison on drugs charges. He was released a couple of years later and ended the 60's back as a session musician for the likes of Sonny And Cher and Frank Zappa. His lightbulb moment came in 1968 when he decided to blend his early New Orleans experiences of the underground voodoo scene with a forward-thinking psychedelic strain of Louisiana funk that was a world away from traditional jazz tropes. Adopting the 'Dr. John' persona and bedecking himself in traditional costumes and feathered headdresses, as well as all manner of voodoo jewellery and amulets, he strode forward with his new project and hit the ground running.

The image was striking, the music that followed suit even more so. His debut album - the utterly bonkers 'Gris-Gris' - was a heady gumbo of funk, blues, jazz, psych-rock and hip-shaking jugband grooves that struck a chord almost immediately. With his wails, chants and hollers rolling around the tunes in a way that transported the listener right into the heaving nucleus of a dark, dingy and downright dangerous New Orleans speakeasy, Dr. John had birthed something wholly original and startlingly fresh onto the world. The next few years of his musical journey saw him touring extensively, winning Grammies by the bucketload, working with the likes of Eric Clapton and Mick Jagger, and releasing more fantastic albums like 'Babylon', 'In The Right Place' and 'The Sun, Moon And Herbs'. By this time, he was pretty much rock and roll royalty and by the end of the 70's he had settled into a familiar groove of album/tour/album/tour. There were decent records throughout this period, but there was also a lot of filler that no amount of special guests could make more interesting. He was also deep in thrall to heroin for most of this time, a habit he finally broke in 1989. By the late 90's though, he started to branch out a little further and, no doubt intrigued by the amount of interest his early work was receiving from younger bands and artists who were breaking through at the time, he found himself working with the likes of Spiritualized, The Roots and Pharrell Williams, as well as performing at Glastonbury. in 2004 he was, understandably, hugely affected by the devastation New Orleans suffered at the hands of Hurricane Katrina and he threw himself into a series of charity events and fundraising concerts to help out his home city. His last major release, bar a Louis Armstrong tribute album a few years ago, was 2012's utterly magnificent 'Locked Down' - a collaboration with Dan Auerbach from The Black Keys, that was as good as anything either artist has ever recorded. A tremendously exciting collection of groovesome jams and four on the floor rug-cutters, it won Dr. John his 6th Grammy Award and introduced him, once again, to a whole host of new fans. All this, and I haven't even mentioned the fact that Dr. John was the inspiration for The Muppet Show's house band, Dr. Teeth & The Electric Mayhem! Just like Roky Erickson, Dr. John was a complete one-off and a real pioneer in his field. He stood out from the crowd, not just because of his utterly unique style and dress sense, but for his effortlessly cool demeanour, his incredible piano playing, his stellar songwriting chops, and that wonderfully gravel-infused voice, holding it all together and taking you on a trip to the funkiest, grooviest corners of New Orleans. The Night Tripper has now left the French Quarter.

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. 

SHAWN SMITH  1965 - 2019

Yet another obituary for me to write on this little blog of mine, and this time it's an absolute heartbreaker. Seattle-based singer/songwriter Shawn Smith - he of the sublime vocal ability and magisterial songwriting chops - has passed away at the tragically young age of 53. No cause of death has been officially given as of yet, but rumours are circulating that Shawn died of a heart-attack due to diabetes related complications. He was found at his home in Seattle on Friday and is survived by his teenage son, Dove. Shawn was a phenomenal singer and musician with talent oozing from every pore and will be sorely missed by everyone who knew him and who listened to and subsequently fell in love with his music. He sadly never achieved the kind of commercial recognition that his monumental gifts should have bestowed upon him - indeed in recent years he had apparently been struggling for money and was close to homelessness - but his musical legacy will live on and, for my money, can easily be compared to his heroes Prince and Stevie Wonder. 
I first discovered Shawn in early 1993 when - due to my insane devotion to Pearl Jam - I rushed out to buy the side-project album by PJ guitarist Stone Gossard which he was releasing under the name Brad. This new band of Gossard's was a four-piece blues-infused funk-rock combo made up of Gossard on guitar, Regan Hagar on drums, bassist Jeremy Toback and Shawn on vocals and piano. It was obvious to me from the very first vocal lines of opening track Buttercup that Shawn was an incredible singer and I vowed to learn everything I could about this amazingly talented man. I posted a full and thorough appreciation of Shawn on this blog in June 2017 in conjunction with his UK tour of that month and I implore you to scroll back and give it a read. Suffice to say that since that wondrous Brad debut in 1993, there have been a myriad of projects featuring Shawn - four more Brad albums, three from his band Satchel, two dance-based electronica records under the name Pigeonhed, various solo efforts and side projects - and all of them are fantastic collections of songs that when listened to, leave you shaking your head at the mysterious vagaries of the music business that allow stunning talents like Shawn to slip through the cracks whilst other lesser singers reap the rewards. As far as I'm concerned, Shawn was one of the greatest singers that I've ever had the joyous fortune to listen to and my memories of the three times I was lucky enough to witness him perform live - once with a reunited Brad in 2013 and two solo tours in 2015 and 2017 - will stay with me for the rest of my days. The man was a true great and to say I'm devastated at his passing is an understatement.
Rest in peace, Shawn. Sleep well and thank you for the music.

"And you're wrapped in my memory like chains yeah, you're only a memory now. I can't wait till we see each other again, and you're wrapped in my memory like chains".

TOP TWENTY SHAWN SMITH SONGS

1:  SATCHEL: SUFFERING
2:  BRAD: SCREEN
3:  SHAWN SMITH: WRAPPED IN MY MEMORY
4:  BRAD: BUTTERCUP
5:  PIGEONHED: THE FULL SENTENCE
6:  BRAD: 20th CENTURY
7:  BRAD: THE DAY BRINGS
8:  SHAWN SMITH: THE TRAIN IS COMING
9:  BRAD: RAISE LOVE
10: PIGEONHED: GLORY BOUND
11: SATCHEL: TIME 'O' THE YEAR
12: SHAWN SMITH: LEAVING CALIFORNIA
13: PIGEONHED: BATTLE FLAG
14: BRAD: LIFT
15: SATCHEL: TROUBLE COME DOWN
16: BRAD: GOOD NEWS
17: PIGEONHED: FIRE'S COMIN' DOWN
18: BRAD: WATERS DEEP
19: PIGEONHED: AIN'T IT SO
20: BRAD: IF YOU CAN MAKE IT GOOD

SHAWN SMITH: 28/10/1965 - 05/04/2019  R.I.P.

VIDEOS OF THE WEEK

Another brace of sad losses within the rock and roll universe over the last couple of weeks with the passing of legendary pop polymath Scott Walker and ska pioneer Ranking Roger. Both men were major players not only in their respective musical spheres, but also throughout my life from childhood to the present day. Walker - born Noel Scott Engel - first found fame in the mid-60's as one third of the ridiculously good-looking Walker Brothers vocal group. Along with his fellow 'brothers' - they were nothing of the sort of course - they tore up the charts with monumentally magnificent tunes such as The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore and Make It Easy On Yourself. Scott soon tired of the relentless grind of the pop world - as well as the hordes of screaming teenyboppers who followed him everywhere - and soon embarked on a quite astonishing solo career that morphed over the ensuing decades from ornate chamber pop, esoteric jazz-influenced AOR, avant-garde post-rock and even brain-scrambling drone rock. Listening back to his extraordinary back catalogue, it's almost impossible to comprehend that the man responsible for those first four incredible solo albums of the late 60's and early 70's is the same experimental musical genius that gave us albums like 'Tilt' and the frankly bizarro 'The Drift'. He truly was a complete one-off and will be sorely missed. 
Ranking Roger - real name Roger Charlery - was a pivotal member of the British ska band The Beat, who found huge fame in the late 70's with their own brand of reggae-infused skank-heavy dance beats that gained massive traction in the wake of the success of The Specials, Madness, The Selecter and others. Garnering a handful of mighty hit singles like Mirror In The Bathroom, Hands Off She's Mine and Can't Get Used To Losing You, Roger and the rest of The Beat were regular visitors to my childhood world thanks to their constant appearances on Top Of The Pops. Roger, along with Chas Smash from Madness, inspired me to buy some Sta-Press slacks, wear white socks and dance around my bedroom like a loon - although he made it look effortless. After the dissolution of The Beat, he joined the group's singer Dave Wakeling in General Public, who were pretty big in the States for a while, before forging his own path. He had recently been touring in his own version of The Beat before succumbing to cancer at the stupidly young age of 56. Rest in peace Roger - and keep dancing up there.