If you’ve ever bothered to read the About me page here on dadams.co.uk, or if you’ve known me since school days, you’ll know that I once came very close to fame through music. Okay, close-ish. In my teens I played the six-string guitar quite badly, and then took up the bass guitar when one of my school chums, Al Johnson, needed a bass player for his band. Myself, Al, and drummer David Hunt became a band with no name and no singer, and never played any gigs. But it was fun rehearsing in Dave’s bedroom.
Moving onto Sunbury College I hooked up with a guy named David Tinham, and we were joined by vocalist Caroline Tyers to form a band that again never saw the light of day. After college I answered an ad in the NME and auditioned for an Addlestone-based band featuring Jenna (now with the surname Fox) on vocals, Julian Leech on guitar, and wild-man Gary Puttick on drums. Julian left, was replaced by Gary Howes, and then Julian rejoined. We did play some gigs, just small local venues and we did have a name. I liked the idea of having the word ‘Empire’ in the name and either Gary or Jenna liked the idea of turning it into something German / Gothic… so we adopted the rather daft name of Empire Strasse.
A short time after Empire Strasse disbanded (and Jenna went on to work at Lotus before I arrived there), I was introduced to the guitarist of Heaven Can Wait (another Dave) who were looking for a bass player. After a successful audition I joined vocalist Chris, keyboard player Danny, Dave, drummer Simon (who had been to the same school as me) and the aforementioned Caroline later joined as an occasional backing vocalist.
We played a debut gig in a local pub, and over the next year played a number of gigs… more pubs, the Tunnel Club in Greenwich (still there on the South side of the Blackwall Tunnel, but now has a different name), Zetas in Putney, the Rock Garden in Covent Garden, and the Hammersmith Palais. The Hammersmith Palais? Yep, and we supported two bands that you may have heard of – The Chiefs of Relief (formed after BowWowWow split) and Furniture (remembered for their one and only but rather good hit ‘Brilliant Mind’).
It came to pass that being in a band is expensive. For example, at the Hammersmith Palais and Rock Garden gigs we paid them to play there, but got a cut of the tickets. A good strategy for a band waiting experience and to get noticed, but not a good way of making money. Small pub gigs were actually more lucrative. Rehearsing wasn’t cheap either – whether it was the youth club hall in Addlestone or (if we were feeling flush) the rehearsal studio in Kingston, it all cost money. When the rest of the lads decided they wanted to invest a fairly substantial sum of money in getting a demo tape recorded, I had to decline – it was at the time when the mortgage rate had soared, and I was the only one with such a financial commitment. We went our separate ways, and I was eventually replaced by Peter Parker. No, not that Peter Parker…
Heaven Can Wait didn’t make the big time, so I didn’t miss out on fame and fortune. But I do now hugely regret hanging up my bass guitar and wished I’d kept playing, especially now that Lolli is learning the guitar and is so interested in music. I often find myself staring longingly at shiny bass guitars hanging up in music shops that I pass. Sad, isn’t it?
What’s caused this outpouring of musical nostalgia? When Heaven Can Wait played at the Hammersmith Palais (twice) we paid the guy running the mixing desk to record it on video. At gig #1 the plonker didn’t switch on the sound until two songs into the set. When we played the Palais again five months later we were a much, much better band and our small following said the gig was awesome. Unfortunately the video turned up with no sound at all… so the only record of Heaven Can Wait in action is this old VHS tape recorded from an early gig – I don’t recall the year but I’m going to guess at 1988. At the weekend I found it in a drawer, and after a unsuccessful attempt to transfer it onto my Archos media player my good pal and technology guru Gareth ‘G’ Cook came to the rescue.
A bit of jiggery-pokery on the iMac, and here it is on YouTube – part 1 and part 2. I may upload it again with a higher resolution. Bear in mind that the audio was taken directly from the instruments and microphones, it’s not great quality (the bass isn’t very bassy) and there’s no noise from the crowd – when Chris asks if everyone is having a good time, there’s muted response. There were about three hundred people there, and they did have a good time. Also bear in mind that this was recorded in the late 1980s, and therefore my trousers and all other dodgy styling should be forgiven.
Reviews on dadams.co.uk come along as regularly as certain comets pass the Earth, so let’s crack on. First up is the new album from We Are Scientists, the bizarrely-named ‘Barbara’. Why ‘Barbara’? I have absolutely no idea. But what I do know is that it’s a damn fine fourth studio album from the band that are now once again a three-piece – drummer Andy Burrows, formerly of the dreadful Razorlight, making an excellent career move.
In complete contrast, next up is something without electric guitars. Incubus front-man Brandon Boyd stated on the band’s Alive At Red Rocks DVD that he amazes himself every day at how badly he plays the guitar. Six years later Brandon is clearly more confident about his musical abilities and plays everything on his debut solo album ‘The Wild Trapeze’ bar the keyboards. I’d take a guess at saying that Brandon isn’t someone who would sit down at a conventional drum kit, and instead has beaten several different drums and mixed them together. The effect defines the album and gives it a unique feel, and is most evident on the album’s stand-out track Runaway Train.
Finally, it’s difficult to review an album when it’s only 11% complete, but that’s the situation with The Smashing Pumpkins‘ new offering ‘Teargarden by Kaleidyscope’. The Pumpkins reached the height of their popularity and creative strength with ‘Siamese Dream’ and ‘Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness’ in the 90s, and then saw their popularity decline into an eventual break-up. Billy Corgan went on to form Zwan (who delivered a sole but excellent album) and then followed-up with a rather lacklustre solo album. Getting back together with his once-disgraced drummer Jimmy Chamberlin, Corgan reformed The Smashing Pumpkins and produced a strong comeback album ‘Zeitgeist’ (
The awards ceremony takes place this coming Tuesday – I don’t care who wins and who loses because the whole thing is a nonsense. Let’s start with best album of 2009 – Dizzee Rascal is nominated. Is that his real name? “Congratulations Mr Rascal, it’s a boy” – “great, I’ll call him Dizzee… a brother for my eldest son Dirty”. Anyway, who else? Florence & the Machine, Kasabian, Lily Allen and Paolo Nutini. Young Mr Nutini, who sings like he’s had eight cans of Special Brew and is wandering through the streets of Glasgow asking people for a quid for a cup of tea, is in second place on the list of artists who make me want to turn the radio off. Dizzee (real name Dylan Mills) is at the top.
But my real problem with this list of nominees is the glaring omission, mainly those Welsh wonders the Manic Street Preachers – a band who in 2009 released not only the best album of the year, but also one of the best of the decade (Journal For Plague Lovers). The lack of recognition for such a powerful and emotional collection of songs is a farce. Who are the people deciding on the nominations?
To be honest I’m not a big fan of ‘greatest hits’ albums. In this day and age when you can download whatever set of tracks you like, and therefore effectively make up your own compilation, the idea of greatest hits is rather redundant. If you’ve already bought the albums of the band in question then a greatest hits album is almost completely redundant, apart from the one or two tracks that they add. And so I had mixed feelings when I heard that my favourite band of the last five years, Incubus, were releasing ‘Momuments and Melodies’.
The iTunes Store has just sent me a very nice e-mail telling me that I can pre-order Dido’s new album ‘Safe Trip Home’. It says “Because you’ve downloaded music by Dido from iTunes in the past”. What? I bloody well haven’t. That’s tantamount to slander. It’s almost the same as saying I drive a Fiat Punto, wear high heels and worry about water retention once a month.
I’ve just read the very sad news that Richard Wright, co-founder and keyboard player of Pink Floyd, has died of cancer aged 65. Richard Wright was the unsung hero of the band. For many years Roger Waters was the creative powerhouse, but it was David Gilmour and Wright who largely provided the music to Waters’ ideas (even though they weren’t often credited). Wright’s song-writing and musical contributions shaped classic albums such as ‘Dark Side Of The Moon’ and ‘Wish You Were Here’. He suffered writer’s block and was driven out of the band by Waters during the recording of ‘The Wall’ but made a triumphant return with ‘The Division Bell’ in 1994.
Today’s set of announcements, by Apple’s standards, were not incredible. Even the BBC News pages didn’t go overboard, but of course they gave Apple more coverage than they gave the Archos 5 a couple of weeks ago even though Archos’ announcement was a bit more revolutionary.