Number 96 – Scorching indie blues from Rocks Saviour

Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground – The White Stripes – Chosen by SWC – Taken from ‘White Blood Cells’ LP (2001)

As I said yesterday really stupidly busy today.  I went for this over my popular White Stripes songs because it was the first track of theirs I ever heard.  Simple as that.  Badger’s favourite track is included below as well.  I was going to post a stunning remix of ‘Seven Nation Army’ by the Glinch Mob but I can’t find it.  I will post that later when I have more time.

Hotel Yorba

I Think I Smell A Rat

 

Number 97 – In which Badger drunkenly tries to explains indie history using condiments.

Babyshambles – Babyshambles – Chosen by SWC – Taken from (and I hang my head in shame as I type this) ‘The NME Cool List 2004’.

The first time I ever got drunk with Badger was at Christmas Do in Exeter around the time that ‘Killamangiro’ by Babyshambles was released. I didn’t work with him at the time, but I had been invited to his teams party in Exeter because I offer to hire myself out to Christmas Parties to make them more interesting (that and I was good friends with someone else going). I barely knew Badger at the time. So we all ate some food, drunk some stuff and ventured around a few pubs in the City Centre.

Around 9pm I was getting ready to go when I saw Badger involved in some form of discussion with a couple of blokes called John and Richard. He was moving sauce bottles and vinegar bottles around and a few others were starting to listen in to the conversation.

What’s going on? I asked one of the guys standing by, “Tims trying to explain something to those two, using those bottles as props” What’s he explaining? I ask. “Oh, the history of Babysham but I might have got that wrong”.  He had got that wrong. Very wrong.

As I edged closer, the conversation became clear. Tim was explaining the history of the Libertines and the emergence of Babyshambles to two bemused slightly drunken middle aged blokes using bottles and jars of Ketchup, Sarsons Vinegars, and Helmanns Mayonnaise.   It turned out that the ketchup was Peter Doherty whilst other members of the Libertines were displayed by Brown Sauce, Tartar Sauce and a small jar of Colmans Mustard. Carl Barat was the Brown Sauce.  To represent drug use Tim has opened a packet of salt and poured it on the table and to indicate the moment when Pete burgled Carlos’ house he has taken a spoon full of red sauce and put into the brown sauce bottle. The barstaff are not looking pleased.

The ketchup had moved to one side to join forces with the Helmanns and the Sarsons and some sugar and salt shakers – this represented Babyshambles and he was desperately trying to explain the mechanics of it all. The problem was I think that Badger was so drunk that he kept forgetting that Pete was the red sauce.

Twenty minutes later I am standing at a bus stop with Badger, we are eating chips. I look at him and say ‘Wish I put some Peter Doherty on these.’ He swears at me and says that the only reason he started talking about it was because Richard said he was going to do a charity walk up Mount Kilimanjaro and I started singing the song. “Never Again” he said.

I love Babyshambles, not as much as Badger does, and we fought like children as to which song we wanted on this list. We’ve said before that the list contains our favourite moments by these bands not necessarily their best songs. Which is why I can choose this eponymous track over say ‘Unbilotitled’ or ‘Delivery’ to name but two.

And if you ever needed to know what constituted being cool in 2004 then look no further

I predict A Riot – Kaiser Chiefs -its a live version.

Strasbourg – The Rakes – actually this is a very good song

Cosmpolitan – Nine Black Alps

 

Now the next couple of days are extraordinary busy and normal service will be interrupted – there will still be music but very little else, normal service should be resumed on Thursday…SWC.

 

 

Number 98 – Like ABC discussing 90s pop with Hot Chip

Cuddle Fuddle – Passion Pit – Chosen by SWC – Taken from ‘Chunk of Change’ LP (2008)

So Valentine’s Day, let’s talk about that, it seems topical what with it being September. Although there is a link because, this record first surfaced as a Valentine’s Day Gift recorded by the singer of Passion Pit Michael Angelakos for his then girlfriend. Passion Pit didn’t exist then, people heard the songs and persuaded him to form a band, he did and a record contract was then duly signed and the rest is history (including the girlfriend it would appear, because Angelakos has recently come out as gay). I suppose recording your girlfriend some songs (and brilliant ones at that) is more novel than buying chocolates and teddy bears.   Passion Pit are excellent, trust me.

When I was much younger I decided to surprise Mrs SWC on Valentines Day by taking her away for the weekend. At the time we were both really into the environment, saving it, using alternative energy that sort of thing. So there’s me in my early twenties wisdom thinking what could be better for a romantic weekend away that a trip to the Centre for Alternative Technology. An award winning place dedicated to the environment, solar power that sort of thing. It was a great idea. The only thing I’d overlooked was that it was in the middle of nowhere, not just that, it was in the middle of nowhere, nowehere being Wales. It was also the middle of February. Now, for those of you who don’t know Wales in February, romantic it is not. What it is, is very wet and (the bit where we were at least) very bleak.

It was also the days before the Internet and I had to find some accommodation, I didn’t have Trip Advisor or even a website. So I popped into a book shop and browsed the AA Guide to Bed and Breakfasts, found one in the town where the Centre was and booked that.   I also booked two train tickets to a place called Machynlleth, which was the closest train station to the Centre.

Then I sat back and waited for the weekend before Valentines Day before surprising Mrs SWC, quietly impressed with my brilliance and generally romantic wonderfulness.

She seemed very pleasantly surprised when I told her, it was a Thursday night and we would be heading up on Monday morning and then coming back on the Thursday.   She was so happy that she couldn’t speak.   Maybe it was an omen because we had the trip from hell.

That Monday we boarded a train to Birmingham and it was pissing down. No, hang on it wasn’t pissing down it was shovelling it down, to the point where you might as well not bother with clothes because by the time you’d turned around and locked your front door, you were soaked through.   It was 9am. We got to Birmingham at 2pm. Five hours. Normally it takes two hours to Birmingham but firstly a lorry hit a bridge just outside Bridgwater (or fucking Bridgwater as Mrs SWC calls it) then someone threw themselves off a bridge near Worcester. So eventually we rolled into Birmingham. Then we had two cold pasties on Platform Nine of New Street Station whilst waiting our connection. This came at 3.50pm. An hour later than expected. We should have arrived in Machynlleth two hours ago. We had another hour long trip to get there. Roughly 40 minutes later, we passed through a place called Caersws (sorry for all the Welsh towns, difficult to read), where a man genuinely tried to bring a sheep on to the train when it stopped at the train station. In Wales. A sheep. He was a farmer and he had just bought it. Apparently.

Eventually we rolled into our destination about 4 hours later than scheduled. We found our B&B. Now, re-read the bit about accommodation.   We had no idea what this place was going to be like. To say it was a hovel would be polite. It was an utter dump but what follows was even worse. The owner of the B&B said hello and then put his pipe down on the table. “I’ve given you two the en suite room” he said. We smiled, perhaps this places isn’t so bad we decided. Now, here, I’ll ask you to define ‘en suite’. Done that good…Read on.

We entered the room, to be greeted by a small double bed in one corner, to the left of that was a wardrobe, and the other side of the room was the piece de resistance. We spun around to be greeted by a sink and a toilet. Yup. In the same room. En Suite you see. Erm…

The owner left us to it as Mrs SWC dried her weeping eyes.

“We are not staying here” she said and turned around and walked out. I agreed to be honest with her. I’d looked at the toilet, and I would have rather pissed in the sink.  I mean why not, someone else had.

I caught her up down the main street in the town (after I’d grabbed the bags and told the owner that we ‘going to look elsewhere’). I looked at her and mouthed a “Sorry” and I wasn’t sure if it was good enough, it was still raining, it was freezing, we were tired, fed up, hungry, and I couldn’t blame her for being mightily pissed off.

So I hugged her and hoped that things were going to be alright (only the week before my friend Mark had got back from Ireland where he had gone to see his girlfriend, only to be dumped in the arrivals lounge at Dublin Airport, eight minutes into a five day trip) and over her shoulder I saw a big hotel. A big expensive looking hotel.

It turned out to be our (or my in particular) saviour. We had a lovely meal and a great night’s sleep.   I could barely afford it but it was worth every single penny. Oh how we laugh it about this now.

The Centre for Alternative Technology was great as well, I totally recommend it.

It appears to be the 11^th of the month, and therefore – here just for you is the entire ‘Chunk of Change’ mini album. Six tracks of geeky wonky pop brilliance.

Better Things

I’ve got your number

Live to Tell the Tale

Sleepyhead

Smile Upon Me

Number 99 – Enough of a reason to resuscitate any band

Hollow Man (parts 1 and 2) – Kula Shaker – Chosen by SWC – Taken from ‘Tattva (Lucky 13 Mix) Single (1996)

Now you are going to have bear with me here, because this ain’t a Kula Shaker love in.  Ok….

For younger readers, (and there must be some because we got an email from a 16 year old in Kansas (Hi Trip) a few weeks back thanking us for introducing him Jonathan Fire*eater  (it works the Internet you know)), Kula Shaker were a massively punchable band from the mid 90s.  They were punchable because they were posh.  They had double barrelled names before it was socially acceptable to do so.  They were punchable because they pedalled an irritating line in Indian spirituality obsessed psychedelia (like the George Harrison it wasn’t ok to like).  And they were most punchable because in Crispian (yep Crispian) Mills they had the most instantly hateworthy frontperson in rock ever.   The fact that he is Hayley Mills’ son makes that even harder to type.

Their debut album “K” sold over a million records and there was enough crass idiocy in that one record to virtually consign indie pop to the abyss for ever.

Then there was  the swastika fucktardery.  Crispian Mills once said in an interview that ‘he would love to have big giant burning swastikas onstage behind him just for the fuck of it’.  He clearly meant the original Hindu symbol, I mean that’s obvious right, but it was the crass insensitivity that annoyed everyone, it pretty much killed their careers, and the music press (the NME at least, the Melody Maker had already written them off by then) destroyed them because of it.  Mills was and probably still is a cockwomble.

Yet for some, for one summer of 1996 they mattered.  The debut album is less gritty than ‘What’s The Story?’ for instance, more dreamier than the latest Verve album.  Girls loved it and them, the blonde blue eyed chap singing probably helped that.

Most of their records were terrible, but here comes the but…Its a big one….

BUT…(ok its a small one)

Their first single was a remixed version of ‘tattva’ and it was a limited edition.  I was lucky enough to get sent a copy because Kula Shaker played a gig at a club I was running at the time.  They moaned at the pizza on the rider.  The remix of ‘Tattva’ is alright – far better than the album version, but the B Side, was ‘Hollow Man’ and that is just a stunning record.  All lovely acoustic guitars and pianos.  Its very reminiscent of early Stone Roses B Sides and as such it was pretty damn essential.  Right there at that moment in time, Kula Shaker had so much promise, so much potential.  Then Crispian Mills opened his mouth and spoke so much shite that roses grew out of his voice box.  If he’d keep quiet and just concentrated on writing records as bloody wonderful as ‘Hollow Man’ then life could have been so much different.

‘Hollow Man’ is a record I have never tired of.  Its beautiful, its stunning and if you put the Swastika comment to one side (yeah, it was unforgivably stupid) I can forgive them for being posh twats, I can forgive the Hindu spiritual bollocks, I can forgive the rubbish lyrics and faux hippydom, because of this song and remember this song came before the bollocks.

I mean, and this is a big leap of faith here, David Bowie made Hitler salutes, we forgave him, now Mills is no Bowie, don’t get me wrong but the crime is largely the same thing.  Nicky Wire said some shocking things, and we forgave him and play ‘A Design for life’, Liam Gallagher said he hoped Alex James died of Aids, you probably still play ‘Wonderwall’ etcetera.

Give it a go.  I promise you will be very pleasantly surprised.

Tattva (Lucky 13 Mix)

Tattva (Album version)

 

 

Number 100 – Welcome to the Second Half….

Touch Me I’m Sick – Mudhoney – Chosen by SWC – Taken from ‘Superfuzz Bigmuff’ LP (1988)

So we get to the second half of this run down, thanks for sticking with us.  There are some incredible records in this bit. There are also a few that Badger has chosen, but don’t let that put you off.  The next five are all  mine though.

I can’t think of a better place to start the WYCRA Top 100 than with this grunge anthem, easily Mudhoney’s most recognizable song and probably one of the finest moments that fell out of the disappointingly short lived grunge era. It needs very little introduction, the heavy distortion around the guitar, that buzzsaw intro, the snarling vocals and the downright dirty drumming.  It was massively influential then and its massively influential now.   NME voted it the 99th Greatest single of all time in 2002 (back when it was still good, nowadays they would say the 99th greatest single of all time was by Usher or Drake) and Kerrang voted it 5th out of a list of (typically and rather naffly) 666 records that you must own.

Of course, the release of this single marked both the beginning of the Sub Pop label and the band itself, both of whom took centre stage in the grunge scene.  When I first heard this I was sixteen and the record had already been around for three years or so then.  I heard it in Dubstar Chris’s bedroom and he announced that they were his new favourite band.  I’ll be honest I thought it was a little loud, a little rawkus.  A few months later I realised he was right, and that it was a bloody ace record.

So are Mudhoney the founding fathers of the grunge scene?  Well, no that was probably Black Flag to be honest, but they were an inspiration to a Kurt Cobain and countless others who hoped one day to produce records such as this, ones that packed the same kind of punch.  Some bands who were already becoming established though the same, one of those bands were Sonic Youth, who were so impressed with ‘Touch Me I’m Sick’ phoned the bands manager and asked Mudhoney to release a split 7″ with them.  Sonic Youth recorded ‘Touch Me I’m Sick’ whilst Mudhoney took on ‘Halloween’.

Here is that Sonic Youth Version

And whilst I’m at it here’s the Mudhoney version of Halloween

 

 

 

 

Number 101 – A wonderful outpouring of anguish and resignation

Spectators of Suicide (Heavenly Version) – Manic Street Preachers – Chosen by SWC – B Side to ‘From Despair to Where’ (1993)

Time to introduce our transfer window multi million pound signing…The Robster…. writer of the very good indeed blog ‘Is This the Life?’.  You should be checking that out if you are not already because that, like what he has written below, is bloody brilliant.  Oh and this is the current leader in the ‘Best B Side Ever’ Competition.

 Funny how things turn out, isn’t it? When asked for a number by SWC and Badger, I plumped, totally randomly, for 101. And so it is that the writer of a 100-part series on Welsh music and a fan of the Manic Street Preachers ends up with a Manics tune to write about. Who’d’ve thunk it, eh?

SWC insists that the version of Spectators of Suicide to be critiqued here is the one that appeared on the b-side of the original release of You Love Us on the Heavenly label in 1991 (SWC note, actually I took it from the B Side of ‘From Despair to Where’  as I don’t ownthe ‘You Love Us’ original but I’m sitting with a hat on today marked ‘Pedant’). Most people will be more familiar with the re-recorded take that turned up on the debut album ‘Generation Terrorists’ the following year. Both versions are radically different to each other, both in terms of the music, the vocals and the overall mood. Opinion is generally split amongst fans over which is the superior version

There are several reasons why Spectators Of Suicide is such a notable moment in the Manics’ history. It is, apparently, the track where label bosses at Heavenly decided the Manics were a proper band and should be taken seriously. It was also the first clear indication of the band’s manifesto, a distillation of their core ideals and themes that would shape their future output. Spectators… is essentially an anti-capitalist song, though it reflects the tiredness and resignation of those who have tried, and failed, to fight the system. James’ vocals on this version are weary and subdued, singing Richey’s words with a sigh:

“The only free choice is the refusal to pay / Life reduced to suicidal comforting”

While held in high regard by many fans, there are various conflicting elements in this original that may lie behind the reasons for the song being redone for the album. For starters, the opening sample of Black Panthers founder Bobby Seale urging his audience to rise up against the government is at odds with the song’s passivity. And while James’ vocal does live up to the feelings expressed in the lyrics, it perhaps underplays the power of the words within. They kind of get lost among the guitars which at times just seem a little too edgy and bright.

The subsequent album version changed the dynamic. The acoustic guitars present in the original were much more prominent with the electrics tamed somewhat, not only set further back in the mix, but also predominantly swathed in effects. Sean’s drums were more restrained and complimented with other percussion, while James employed his trademark higher-register voice to belt out the despair and anguish of the lyrics.

I could make the case for the album version being the better one, but this is SWC and Badger’s list, not mine. Besides, the original should be judged on its own merits and it has long been heralded as one of the first signs of the Manics’ true qualities as a band. It hinted that there might just be some substance behind the eyeliner.

SWC – adds, its a debate for the pub I think Robster, either way, I agree with the Heavenly bosses, when I heard this for the first it was the moment that I decided to take the Manics seriously.  I stopped taking them seriously around the time of ‘Ocean Spray’ then started again around the time their last album.  A very side note, Badger and I travelled to Cornwall to see The Manics back in July and I very nearly changed my mind that night as to my favourite Manics moment, that was because they played an absolutely stunning version of ‘Little Baby Nothing’ with the singer from the Anchoress.

Here for those of you daft enough not to already own them are the other B Sides to ‘From Despair To Where’.  Robster will be back a bit later with another entry.

From Despair To Where (obviously this is the A side)

Starlover (heavenly Version)

Hibernation

Number 102 – Pretty much the sound of too much fruity alcopop

Girl From Mars – Ash – Chosen by Badger – Taken from ‘1977’ LP (1996)

Its a shame that I’m off on holiday (cycling around the Lofoten Islands, thanks for asking) this morning because I would love to wax lyrical about Ash, but I can’t because the wife is already telling me that we need to get going to the airport.  Seriously the flights are in nine hours time, but it is a three hour drive to Gatwick I suppose plus the two hour wait so she is sort of right.

What I will say is that when this and ‘1977’ came out that at the time, defined a generation.  A generation that was still hungover from alcopops and still had some of last nights takeaway stuck in its hair.  Ash were 19 when they released this record and it certainly sounds like it was great deal of fun making it.  I remember seeing Ash on tour and they were full of vibrancy, fun, bouncing around the stage.  I remember being blown away by their energy and lust for life.  The very next day I saw the Manics and they just seemed old in comparison.  Ash looked liked they’d been left in charge of their parents booze cabinet, and only had the small bottle of schnapps to go.  Something that when they appeared on Top of The Pops they’d appeared to have finished off as well.

I’ve just read that Tim Wheeler wrote this when he was 16 and that the record company refused to let them release it until he’d finished his exams.  They did this because they knew it would be a hit and that they would have to tour it.

SWC and I argued about Ash.  He wanted ‘Kung Fu’ but I refused because the single version had Eric Cantona on the cover.  To be honest we could have chosen any of the singles on ‘Trailer’ or ‘1977’.

Kung Fu

Goldfinger

 

 

 

 

Number 103 – Pioneers of the Crusty Squat Rock Scene

Teenage Turtles – Back to the Planet – Chosen by SWC – Taken from Single of the Same Name (1993)

Now then.  I was going to tell you a story about Levellers Girl here.  One where we spent the summer of 1993 driving around the South East of England attending as many free festivals as we could, watching bands like The Levellers, Citizen Fish, The Sea and obviously Back To The Planet, playing stages hastily constructed out of the back of lorries.  Festivals that saw thousands of crusties turn up with the obligatory dog on a string, drunk copious amount of home brewed cider, which was served out of make shift bars out of the back of old BT lorries.  They were heady days.  But I’m not going to tell you that story, largely because I still know Levellers Girl and she does occasionally read this nonsense, and the last time I mentioned her, she didn’t like it. So I’m going to talk about a bloke called Nick instead….but First

Back to the Planet were an anarcho punk pop band from London.  By anarcho punk they mean politically minded, they weren’t actually anarchists, they played on the ‘we live in squats’ and ‘hate the government’ angle.  They did it really well too, by that I mean we all bought it.  Their music blended elements of ska, dub, punk and dance music – but ultimately they were an indie band both in musical direction and sensibility.  They formed in 1989, split in 1995 to pursue personal music projects, a brief reunion occurred in 2006, whether they were still anarcho crusties living in squats then I have no idea.   They were also brilliant.

Now back to Nick….It is 1994, and it is my first week at University, I have been invited to a floor warming party by the people on the floor below mine, there is about 100 people here crammed into three of four rooms.  A lovely lass from Essex called Laura has taken over the stereo and The Pastels and The Jesus and Mary Chain are pretty much dominating, at least in the room we are in.  Cheesy pop is dominating in another lads room around the corner.

Now I am wearing a TShirt bearing the log ‘Who’s Fuckin’ Planet’, it was literally the first Tshirt I pulled out of my as yet un emptied suitcase in my room.  I wasn’t trying to be clever, honest.

Enter Nick.

“Aah, Back to the Planet” he said flicking his half purple half blonde hair (yup really that’s what his hair was doing), “The third best band in the world”.  Now, I should have at this point asked him what the best two were, to be polite,  but you know what, I didn’t really care.  I was chatting to a very nice young lady from Stockport called Charlotte about the summers Reading Festival – both of us had had our minds blown by Primal Scream – her with the aid of some very strong ecstasy (never again, her words), mine with the aid of vodka and two Scottish lasses from the badlands of Blairgowrie, and Nick had sort of interrupted us.

But, he continued anyway, “The second being, Tofu Love Frogs” a pause, was I supposed to say that I’ve heard of this lot, I mean I have I saw them at the Stoke Newington Respect Festival last summer (they were awful, or rather, the soundsystem was awful, and they were blown away by a totally excellent Dub War before them).  Charlotte looks at me and says “I’m going to go down the Union to sign up for a few things, see you later, yeah?”.  “Yes, ok” I mutter.  Cheers Nick.  I was well in there.

“The best band of course, are Do The Moog” he says and the unbuttons his shirt to display proudly one of the bands tops.  “I didn’t think I’d find a fellow crusty here at University”.

You didn’t.

I’m not.

But I sigh and he continues talking about his ‘Crew’ a band of Travellers from  the rough end of Dorking.

I’d given up smoking earlier that week and hadn’t missed it at all but right there and then I would have strangled a nun for a tab.  An hour later, Laura came and rescued me by asking me to help her with ‘something really important in the kitchen’.

Those of you who went to University, will know this, that first week is difficult because you speak to everyone in the attempt to appear cool, friendly, decent and some of those people you realise about two weeks later are going to be friends for life.  Some you realise are knobbers who you will spend the rest of the first year trying to avoid.   Nick was the latter of these two things.

Then in the second year he vanished.

I had no idea where he went my guess was that a tunnel needed building under the new A30 or something, but nope, all was revealed one Sunday afternoon about two years later, I was queuing up in Marks and Spencers with a pint of milk and some bread, when there behind the till was Nick.

Teenage Rebellion

Teenage Lust

 

 

Number 104 – A Majestic hymn to life’s transient thrills

Goddess on a Hiway – Mercury Rev – Chosen by Badger – Taken from Single of the Same Name (1998)

‘Goddess on A Hiway’ was the first single to be released from Mercury Rev’s magnificent fourth album ‘Deserter’s Songs’ and when I first heard it I was totally blown away.   It is difficult to think nowadays that when it came out, it literally cam from nowhere.  A masterpiece from a band who were considered by the industry to be washed up.  The fact that album itself contained more masterpieces and would firmly place Mercury Rev on rocks map forever was also largely unexpected.

‘Goddess on A Hiway’ is perhaps the bands pinnacle moment, some will say that ‘The Dark Is Rising’ is better, some will pick something else, but this is easily my stand out favourite moment from Mercury Rev.  I’ve listened to it again this morning and it hasn’t dimmed in the slightest.  Jonathan Donahues small quiet cry of “I know it ain’t gonna last” still manages to stir something inside me, something that is sitting at the very depths of the soul.  It’s a stunning track, very basic with its verse chorus verse arrangement but its just so captivating, so brilliantly executed, and still today so very vital.

That line – “I know it ain’t gonna last” could have heralded the end of the band, so disillusioned had they become with the music industry and understandably after the lukewarm reception given to third album “See You on the Other Side”.  This was supposed to be a swan song, a kind of up middle finger to us all.  The plans were rapidly changed after across the board acclaim (and later album of the year in the NME of all bloody places).  Which is why ‘Goddess on A Hiway’ is so vital now, it became a catalyst for a career that had probably finished.

This version is the re released single (to celebrate 100,000 sales of ‘Deserter’s Songs’) and comes backed with these tracks

Carwash Hair

I Don’t Wanna Be A Soldier (cover of the John Lennon staple)

 

 

Number 105 – Loneliness to the power of ten (but in a fantastic way)

Goodbye Precious Mountain – Chosen by SWC – Taken from ‘Precious Falling’ LP (1998)

One day in late 1998, a few weeks before I graduated, my house mate threw a massive party in our student house.  I missed this party because the future Mrs SWC and I had gone to London to see Spiritualized, it was a Saturday night.  The following morning, I returned to the house to pick up a few things, change my clothes, and generally sort some stuff out.  I was met my a house in state of carnage.  It was 9am, in the lounge were tow men, neither of whom I knew and both of whom were fast asleep alongside crisp packets, beer cans and overflowing ashtrays.  The kitchen was worse, as I walked in, with the hope of making a cup of tea.  The sink was dominated by two things, firstly a massive orange bowl, the second was the huge pile of vomit inside the massive orange bowl.  It stunk and I no loner wanted a cup of tea,  I had some orange juice in my room anyway.  I sighed and knew that I’d better start clearing up.  Then I saw the pile of parcels outside my room, these were Saturdays’ record delivery, a new pile of records that needing reviewing and playing.  The clearing up could wait.  I wandered over, picked up the first one and opened it, then the phone rang, so I chucked the record on the bed and wandered back out to the lounge.

The phone woke up one of the guys sleeping in the lounge, he looked like shite to be honest.  I answered the phone, and its difficult to explain how weird the phone call was, let’s say it was ‘fucking weird’.  ‘Is that Simon, its Nigel here from The Samaritans, we spoke last night on the phone’.  Now, I’m not called Simon, and I’ve never spoken to anyone from the Samaritans.  Also there is no one called Simon living in this house.  Something I told Nigel on the phone, but I don’t think he heard me. I think this because he then decided to carry on talking about the effects of cannabis on the brain whilst drinking lager and how ‘my panic attack’ was probably caused by this.  Silence.  ‘Are you still there Simon, talk to me’.  I’m not Simon I repeat.  Suddenly a tap on my shoulder, its the man from the sofa.  He looks sheepish.  “I think that might be for me” he says and I look bemused and hand him the phone and edge back to my room, pinching myself on the way to make sure that I’m not asleep.

Back to my records, the second parcel I open is an advance copy of ‘Precious Falling’ by Quickspace, bizarrely a band I’d just seen live a few days back, so I instantly pop it on my stereo.  The next fifty minutes are quirky guitar and yelpy vocal heaven and then we get to the last track, ‘Goodbye Precious Mountain’, a song so far removed from Quickspace’s normal oeuvre that I have to check the label to make sure something funny isn’t going on.  Its a vast, lush, cinematic experience, full of strings, and its just so so beautiful, it feels lonely but a happy lonely.  Now read back a bit to the word , cinematic,  this song sounds like the end of a disaster movie, when the camera pans in on the hero, or the key character and then just moves away, making that figure smaller and smaller as they either walk into the distance or stand perfectly still surveying the chaos around them.  Its incredible, wonderful and by far the greatest thing that Quickspace ever recorded, and I mean that as a massive massive compliment.

I play it again and it makes me feel like applauding.

An hour or so later  venture back out into the kitchen and lounge to find a big surprise, the place is gleaming, the lounge, before a mess of cans, crisps and shit, is now tidy, the only obvious sign of a party is the black bag in the corner, and it was empty, the two guys Simon and the unknown other male, gone.  I walk into the kitchen and the washing up has been done, the sides cleaned down, the bin cleaned, the floor washed.   Had there been a miracle?  Some sort of Elves and the Shoemaker style event?

On the table in the kitchen lay another surprise, a huge chocolate cake, freshly bought from the Tesco down the road, on it a small note, it read “Sorry for losing my shit, Simon”.

Now, I’m easily bought, I’d snog a granny twice, if you promised me a packet of Jaffa Cakes afterwards.  So Simon, apology accepted.  I never saw Simon again, I moved out of that house about three weeks later, and I never found out who the other guy was, or why for that matter Simon lost his shit, but as I sat on my bed eating a slice of that cake, listening again to ‘Goodbye Precious Mountain’ I found myself thinking again of that movie scene, but instead of Simon walking of into the distance, the film ends with Nigel, putting the phone down and then sitting back and smiling as the camera pans out to a huge office block full of Samaritans.

Take Away

Quickspace Happy Song #2