Paedantic Basterd

Pulp and flattery!?

My good sir, you are not a burden. Keep up the good work. You are a gentleman and a scholar.

Trollheart

Part II: Out on my own

And so it was that, in 1988, Sykes put together Blue Murder, calling in ex-Whitesnake drummer Cozy Powell as well as Tony Franklin from the Firm, and Ray Gillen ex-Black Sabbath on vocals. However, Gillen didn't work out and on the advice of his label Sykes took over vocals himself. Powell also left before the recording of the first of the band's two albums, to be replaced by Carmine Appice. With keysman Nik Green they released their debut, self-titled album, which was critically acclaimed, but failed to gain any chart success. The album was dedicated to Phil Lynott, who had passed away two years previously.

John put his stamp firmly on the album, and on the band, playing guitar and singing, and also writing most of the songs on it. He had worked under other people in the past, and most times this had not worked out. He would not allow himself to be in that situation again. Blue Murder was unmistakably his band! He called the shots, he did the hiring and firing, and he decided on the direction the band was to take.

He extended this control even further for their second (and final) album, “Nothin' but trouble”, released in 1992. He produced, engineered and wrote ALL of the songs on it (bar one, the cover of the Small Faces' “Itchycoo Park”), and he also rejigged the band, relegating Appice, Franklin and Green to the status of “additional musicians”, while bringing in new bass player Marco Mendoza, and sticksman Tommy O'Steen.

Both albums are great power-rock records, but Blue Murder failed to make any sort of impression on the charts, and are fondly remembered, but after a live album released in 1993 they broke up and John began his career as a completely solo artist, though he retained the core of the band, in O'Steen and Mendoza. He had as a matter of fact already recorded a short solo EP in 1982, which he expanded ten years later to a full album, titled “Please don't leave me”, padded out with added material from his Tygers days. As none of the songs bar the title track were his own, it's not really considered as being his first solo album, though technically, it is.

His first real effort was “Out of my tree” in 1995, with a sleeve created by famous Irish artist Jim Fitzpatrick. I haven't been able to track down a copy of it, so I can't speak to its quality, however here are a fewYouTubes of the tracks I was able to locate. It appears John wrote all the tracks on this album, as well as producing, mixing and engineering it.



John's next solo album was 1997's “Loveland”, with most of the band again changed: this time he had two drummers, two bass players, and two keyboard players (although this “doubling-up” may have been due to some of the tracks having been recorded previously), with Nik Green and Tony Franklin relegated to playing on the closer, “Don't say goodbye”, whereas ex-drummer Tommy O'Steen plays on “Haunted”. Interestingly, the album opens on two ballads, both really excellent, followed by a re-re-release of “Please don't leave me”, this one from his 1997 re-release of the album which started life as an EP, retitled “Don't hurt me this way”, and featuring the late Phil Lynott on vocals.

As I said, I haven't heard “Out of my tree”, so can't comment much on it, though going from the YTs here it seems it continued the hard/melodic rock stylings that characterised the two Blue Murder albums, whereas this one goes completely in the opposite direction, being in fact an entire album of ballads! Talk about throwing a curveball! It's a fantastic album though, and you have to admire Sykes' sense of taking a gamble that it would be accepted by his surely by now legion of fans, without a single shredding guitar solo or even a rocker on the whole album. And yet it works. Beautifully. Right down to the powerful, urgent closer, “Don't say goodbye”, dedicated to the late John Lennon. You can hear the hurt, anger and frustration in Sykes' voice as he sings about the death of one of his idols.


Only a year later and John Sykes' new album was out. “20th century” dispelled any idea that he was going to record another album of ballads, kicking off with “Look in his eyes”, a decent rocker, followed by three more in quick succession, the best of these being the Gary Moore-like “2 counts”. “Defcon 1” then kicks the gear into about ninth, and the whole band get rockin' like lunatics. In fact, in direct opposition to his previous effort, this album has no ballads at all, and rocks from beginning to end, especially on penultimate track “Cautionary warning”, where Sykes channels the ghost of Phil Lynott.

Sykes waited another three years before unleashing his last, and to date, most recent solo effort upon the world. The new millennium saw the release of “Nuclear cowboy”, on which Sykes stretched his creative talents and dabbled in some new sounds. There are hints of punk, thrash and even electronica on this album, especially on the title track and “One-way system”, with some very effective string arrangements on “Talking 'bout love”, which comes across as a very Sabbath-style cruncher, but the strings really add something to the song.

Nice little Spanish guitar-like interlude on “Sick”, with an almost rap beat and rhythm, while this time round Sykes does include a ballad; just the one, but it's totally gorgeous. “I wish it would rain” (not to be confused with the Phil Collins ballad!) is a powerful, emotional and multi-layered song which stands out the more as there are no other ballads to compare it to: even on his previous album there wasn't one, as we saw, although the one prior to that was nothing but ballads.

As of this year, 2012, John has stated his intention to put together a new band with ex-Dream Theater drummer Mike Portnoy. This announcement was only made very recently, and it's unlikely at this point that we'll see any output from the new project before the new year, I would think.

What is clear is that from humble beginnings John Sykes has played with the greats, created a powerful reputation for himself and also created demand for his services --- both Phil Lynott and David Coverdale approached him about joining their respective bands at the time --- he has never had to look for work. But having been in other people's bands, and experienced some of the repercussions of having to deal not just with a big ego, but with a big ego that has control over you, he appears to have decided that the way to go is solo, or at least for him to be in charge of his own band. Of course, Portnoy is a legendary figure himself, and casts a huge shadow, so it will be interesting to see how the dynamic of their new group plays out, and also who else is involved.

One thing is sure: after over thirty years in the business of making music, we have not heard anywhere near the end of John James Sykes.

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Random Track of the Day
Wednesday, October 19 2011
Hooray! Everything's comin' up Trollheart! After my luck yesterday with the random-o-meter picking out a Bon Jovi song for me, today it's again come up trumps, with another of my favourite bands, Arena, and indeed, one of my favourite songs from them.

Sirens --- Arena --- from "Pride" on SPV


Taken from their second album, “Pride”, this is in fact the closer, a powerful, almost fourteen-minute saga of human emotions and mythology, with some great passages, including a great guitar solo. Arena tend to get a little overlooked in the present glut of bands who go under the banner of progressive rock, but I think they truly deserve that tag, and if after listening to “Sirens” you disagree, then there's nothing more I can do to help you!

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FOURTH SPIN
I suppose after all it's inevitable. When you download as much music as I do, often without even knowing anything about the artist other than they look like someone you might enjoy, or that you've been recommended their music, and that same music can stay unlistened to on your PC for months, sometimes years, then there is going to be some sort of percentage of what you download that you are not going to like.

And so it has proved with the first three “Spins of the Wheel”. Since I began this section, the intention being to randomly select an album from my collection and review it, no matter my feelings on said album, I have to date had three strikes, as the Americans say. The first two were albums I didn't like, or hadn't listened to (then didn't like when I did), and the third was what I would class as a “meh” album: it was ok, but it didn't blow my mind. Up until now, the Wheel has not been kind to me. But all of that is about to change.

Finally, the winds of fortune have blown favourably upon me, and the random album selected this time around is one I not only like, but love, and one I know a good deal about, being a big Tom Waits fan.

Blue Valentine --- Tom Waits --- 1978 (Asylum)


As I mentioned a short time back when I featured the opening track in the section “Head start”, you just never know what you're going to get with a Waits album, and this is no exception. His fifth (not including the live “Nighthawks at the diner”) album, it's as ever an eclectic mix of styles, and how much more eclectic can you be than to kick off your album with a showtune, but that's exactly what he does. His version of “Somewhere”, from Leonard and Bernstein's “West Side Story”, is, shall we say, unique? Delivered in his characteristic growl, it's a song that at first you would not see as suiting his singing style, and yet for all that (or perhaps in spite of it) the song works really well.

Waits often sings like a drunk, slurring his words and mumbling his delivery, but if you are a fan of his music you'll know that he never gives less than a hundred percent for any song, and once you've acquired the taste there really is no-one he can be compared to, living or dead. A mix of blues, jazz, lounge, soul, country, hard-edged rock, gospel and even swing, along with a few other styles which defy categorisation, which seem just to have been invented by him, make for a complex and interesting musician who never fails to surprise, impress and occasionally shock, but always delivers satisfaction. I can't really point to a Waits album I haven't thoroughly enjoyed.

So, “Somewhere” gets the album off to a somewhat unsettling start, with its orchestral arrangement, beautiful sax playing by Frank Vicari and Herbert Hardesty, all juxtaposed against Waits' slurred, drunk-sounding croon, but if you thought that was going to be the tone of the album, think again! You really have to be quick on your feet when listening to a Waits album, as you quite literally never know what's coming next. And what is coming next is “Red shoes by the drugstore”, a jazzy, bluesy bouncer carried on sweet bass lines, muted drumming and flourishes on the guitar, with Waits at his streetcorner storyteller best, making an assignation with his lady. Like many of his songs, “Red shoes” is full of gangland imagery, streetpunks hanging out on every corner, watching from the darkness, avoiding the sweep of the flashing lights of the police as they cut through the night.

It's a short song, and in fairness quite repetitive, but doesn't suffer from it, but it pales beside the classic “Christmas card from a hooker in Minneapolis”, driven almost entirely on tinkling piano as Waits reads the letter sent to him by a “lady of the night” he is acquainted with. She tells him that she's ready to be clean, lead a normal life, that she's got married and has a baby now, but it all turns out to be a shakedown for money for her lawyer. It's a deeply disturbing song in its subject matter, the moreso when you find out at the end (sorry for the spoiler!) that it's all lies, and the woman is not going to change. The simple piano melody serves to highlight Waits' deep and sonorous voice, and it contains some classic Waits lines, like ”Everyone I used to know/ Is either dead or in prison”. You just get the sense at the end of Waits crumpling up the card, shaking his head as he tosses it into a trashcan, knowing that people don't change.

“Romeo is bleeding” is, lyrically, a revisitation of the themes in the title track to 1976's “Small change”, with more street gang metaphors, and the story of one who pushed his luck too far. It's carried on upright bass and sax, with a great swing beat, and Waits' incredible eye for rhythm that makes the lyric, although sung almost at odds with the melody, mesh perfectly and create a cool little song. Great organ from Charles Kynard adds some real atmosphere to the song, while the sax just takes it to the top, but as ever it's Waits' laconic telling of the tale of Romeo the hood that grabs and holds your attention.

The shortest track name ever on a Waits album, I believe, “$29”, or “Twenty-nine dollars”, is another song of life on the street, on a great blues melody, and at just over eight minutes is the longest track on the album. Tinkling, echoing piano and sweet electric guitar carry the song, which just sways along on a rhythm that reeks of the very best of the blues. More great lines: ”Cops always get there too late/ Always stop for coffee/ On their way to the scene of the crime/ Always try so hard/ Just like movie stars/ But they couldn't catch a cold/ Baby, don't waste your dime!” and ”Streets get so hungry/ You can almost hear them growl!”

Everywhere you look on this album there are great tracks. “Wrong side of the road” is a Bonnie-and-Clyde style ballad, driven on lowdown sax and squealing organ as Waits prepares for a crime spree with his lover. Waits' lyrics just continue to impress, and often amuse: Strangle all the Christmas carollers/ Scratch out all their prayers/ Tie 'em up with barbed wire/ And push 'em down the stairs!” Remind me never to go carolling outside Waits' house! It's a slow, bluesy/jazzy ballad with again a great beat, and providing an insight into a character who just doesn't care what he does, who he hurts or who he kills, or indeed whether he's killed himself. As he declares as the song comes to a fading close ”With my double-barrelled shotgun/ And a whole buncha shells/ We'll celebrate the Fourth of July/ We'll drive a hundred miles an hour/ Spending someone else's dough/ Drive all the way to Reno/ On the wrong side of the road.”

So this review is turning out to be a bit longer than expected, but really, you can't rush through a Waits album: it just demands your fullest attention. And to be honest, there's very little persuasion needed, with songs the calibre of “Whistlin' past the graveyard”, where Waits goes at his most manic, a swing, big band type rhythm, with the ubiquitous sax leading the way, or the hard-edged “Sweet little bullet from a pretty blue gun”, with its tale of seedy motel encounters with less than legal young women, set to the basic melody of “It's raining it's pouring”, the children's nursery-rhyme actually included in the lyric by Waits, no doubt with a lopsided grin and a tip of his cap.

But the standout track has to be the heartbreaking “Kentucky Avenue”, where Waits sings to his crippled friend, making believe they're going to run away together. It's a supremely powerful song that just drags at your heartstrings, and when you realise (again, apologies for the spoiler) that the friend he's talking to is lame, the tears aren't long in coming. ”I'll take the spokes from your wheelchair/ And a magpie's wing/ And I'll tie them to your shoulders/ And your feet /I'll steal a hacksaw from my dad/ Cut the braces off of your legs/ And we'll bury them tonight/ Out in the cornfield.” The song is again a simple piano melody, the sparseness of it somehow making it a deeper, more meaningful song than perhaps it would have been with a full orchestra behind it.

Another ballad ends the album, and it's the title track (with just the addition of an “s”, to make it “Blue Valentines”), a ballad wrapped in barbed wire, on a lone guitar as Waits cries into his whiskey about the woman he has left behind, the things he has done that haunt him and that he can never change or be forgiven for, least of all by himself. A fitting end to a tremendous album, rightly seen as one of Tom Waits' best. You can't listen to this and fail to be moved: he just has that effect. If this is to be your first steps into the wonderful, disturbing, terrifying, amazing world of Tom Waits, my advice is try to get past his growly voice and listen to what he's singing, and once you lose yourself in his cityscapes and stories, meet his colourful characters and maybe share a drink with them, you may never want to find your way back again.

TRACKLISTING

1. Somewhere
2. Red shoes by the drugstore
3. Christmas card from a hooker in Minneapolis
4. Romeo is bleeding
5. $29
6. Wrong side of the road
7. Whistlin' past the graveyard
8. Kentucky Avenue
9. A sweet little bullet from a pretty blue gun
10. Blue Valentines

Suggested further listening: "Small change”, “Rain dogs”, “Frank's wild years”, “Swordfishtrombones”, “Foreign affair”, “The heart of Saturday night”, “Closing time”, “Heartattack and Vine”, “Mule variations”, “Nighthawks at the diner”, “Bone machine”, “Orphans: Brawlers, bawlers and bastards” and many more....

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The worm fears his section is in danger of becoming a “where are they now?” feature, but he must admit he wonders where these guys are these days. They had two big hits in the 80s, then nothing was heard from them. What a pity. Mr. Mister, with one of their big hits, “Kyrie.”

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IRELAND MOURNS...

Holy Christ, what is WRONG with this world? Rory Gallagher dies, not front page news. Gerry Rafferty leaves us, footnote. Gary Moore shuffles off to the Great Gig in the Sky, barely a mention. But five snotty, talentless gits from Ireland decide that finally, after fourteen years (twelve, according to Louis Walsh, but who can believe anything he says?) they've had enough of ripping off teenage girls by basically recycling the same songs over and over, have made fat enough piles of cash to be able to “spend time with their families” --- yeah, right: expect solo albums aplenty soon! --- and the whole country starts wearing black! It's HEADLINE news on most of the Irish newspapers. Yeah, I said HEADLINE news! Never mind the death of Gaddaffi, we have the split of Westlife!

No doubt there'll be a sharp rise in the suicide or attempted suicide rate among distraught teenage girls in Ireland and elsewhere, oh and watch for the “reunion tour” in about, what, five years? Before that? Get down to Paddy Power now and place a bet, take my advice. Could be a nice little earner!

Wise up, people! It's a band (using the word in its loosest form) breaking up. It's not the end of the world. Or is it? Perhaps this is --- yes, yes! It all fits! One of the great catastrophes said to presage the end of the world in 2012. A humanitarian disaster on an unprecedented scale. Why didn't I think of that? Here I was, thinking earthquake, famine, tsunami, war, when I should have been considering the global effect the breakup of these guys would have on the world! Of course! It has to be true.

Teenagers all over the world begin jumping off cliffs, the music industry implodes and shortly afterwards takes with it the whole of Western society, while certain people who shall remain nameless grin and say that this is proof they were right: that music IS evil and should have been outlawed, look at the damage it is causing, the lives it is taking. Relations between East and West (YOU know who I mean!) deteriorate, the world slips towards the inevitable precipice...


I'm just thankful I have my seat booked on Virgin Galactic's Earth Evacuation flight on December 2012. What? You thought those were to be pleasure trips? People are going to pay $200,000 a SEAT to go into space for no reason and come back a little while later? You thought --- Oh, yes, sorry, of course. THAT's what they ARE doing, yes. Forget you heard anything about a planned escape by the rich and influential from this planet before the Big Day. Nothing of the sort: where did you hear that? Silly. Of course Branson would not be involved in such a thing! A mega-rich tycoon, saving the richest people on Earth from --- come on! Does that even SOUND possible?

Well, must go. Lots to do before the Big One --- er, before the --- er, before nothing at all, actually. Nothing going to happen. All rumour. Now where did I put that ticket? WHERE? WHERE!! I CAN'T FIND ---- Oh, there it is! Phew! Nearly gave myself a heart attack there. What ticket? Oh, nothing, nothing. The safe combination is.... there we go, safe and sound.

That's all. Run along now, nothing to see here. Any intimations of collusion on behalf of Virgin Galactic with the evacuation of the Earth will be met by the very strongest legal response. Sorry? No, I have no comment. Sorry. No. NO. NONE. Please get out of my way. Thank you.

Note: Trollheart wishes it to be understood that, should he suddenly disappear from the planet on the aforementioned date, this is entirely coincidental and does not add any credibility to the scurrilous rumours being circulated at this time.

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Random Track of the Day
Thursday, October 20 2011
Woo hoo! Looks like we're back with those crazy Polish proggers, Riverside, for today's RTOTD. Taken from the live album “Reality dream”, this is twelve and a half minutes of pure prog magic.

The same river --- Riverside --- from "Reality dream" on InsideOut


I'm still making up my mind about this band, but so far I've liked what I've heard. This is another good one, although the opening “radio” thing does put me in mind of Marillion's “Forgotten sons”. Still, if that proves Riverside were listening to, and were influenced by, Fish and the boys, no bad thing!

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Ah, Eurovision! Was there ever a more pointless competition (other than the X-Factor, of course!)? Every nation fights to compete, even holding trials within each country themselves to select the song to go forth and represent them, and whoever wins has the dubious honour of hosting the next year's contest. No prize, no real fame to speak of, no recording contract. Most Eurovision winners, let alone entrants, fade very quickly into the mists of musical history, although of course there have been a few notable exceptions, who have gone on to carve out a successful musical career on the back of their Eurovision victory. They are, though, very much in the minority.

I think the best comment on Eurovision was in the “Father Ted” episode “A song for Europe”, where Ted's arch-enemy, Fr. Dick Byrne, is flabberghasted to find that his much superior entry has lost out to Ted's awful, one-note-one-chord “My lovely horse”, and when he suggests the contest is obviously a fix, he is asked why would the organisers allow a far inferior song to go forward and represent Ireland? He rather haltingly suggests that maybe Ireland, having won the last two times, can't afford to host it again and so wants to send such a dire entry forward that they will have no chance of winning!

Okay, it's comedy, but there's a kernel of possible truth in there. For most countries, hosting the Eurovision is more trouble than it's worth. It's a huge headache, logistically, politically and most of all financially, and there are few if any rewards, apart from the “prestige” of staging the event. Sure, it's good for the tourist industry of the country in question, but it's not like the European Championships or the World Cup, where the hosting country has the sudden influx of thousands upon thousands of fans from every country, bringing all their lovely disposable income with them! No-one travels to the Eurovision; everyone watches it on telly at home. So where's the point?

This is a question, of course, debated by men much more learned than I, and I will not attempt to unravel the mystery in these pages. Rather, this section is being opened to highlight some of the truly awful songs that featured in previous Eurovisions. Some were even winners! And just in case anyone thinks I'm bashing any particular country, my own little island will not escape my scathing satire, you may be sure of that. We have had some woeful entries, and the harsh spotlight of scorn will be shone with its fullest intensity on those, mark my words!

But to start this section off, here's a good one from all the way back in 1974. Don't ask me how it did, but I somehow doubt it won. Paulo de Carvalho (never heard of him? Not surprised...) singing Portugal's entry, “E depois de adeus”, which apparently means “and after goodbye”. Perhaps he should have stuck in a comma before “goodbye”...! Hey, let's be honest: I don't know the guy. Maybe he was big in Portugal, who knows? But this song is typical of the kind of sub-cabaret tripe they used to trot out every year for this contest, though in fairness, they haven't got much better these days. Enjoy!

1974 --- Portugal --- “E depois de adeus” by Paulo de Carvalho

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After wondering where yesterday's artiste, Mr. Mister, are now, no such worries with these lads! All at home, rolling about in their stacks of money! Seriously, you can't keep the Eagles down, as their reunion album “Long road out of Eden” showed in spades. This is one of their classic hits, a crossover country/rock/pop mainstay, it's “Lyin' eyes”.

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Ah, yiz'll be hummin' this guitar riff all day now! The song that made Bryan Adams a household name, this is “Run to you”...

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