Stray thoughts

February is now shaping up to be an excellent month for live music. As well as the wonderful Michael Chapman, I now have tickets for Kelly Joe Phelps and Fred Eaglesmith in that month. But a bit of a fallow period till then...

Meanwhile, I'm starting to think about the best of 2012. No shortage of fine gigs to choose from, again, but more decent albums than great ones, I think. I'm digging some out to re-listen and will finalise the list next month.

Along the way I'm being pleasantly distracted by old stuff that I've been hunting for a while. Sometimes eBay can still come up trumps: this week it was great to get a first issue copy of Can's Tago Mago, sleeve intact and vinyl bordering NM, for just £31. Astonishing stuff, however often you've heard it.

Neil Young and his prairie pals

I'm currently working my way through Neil Young's memoir, Waging Heavy Peace. It's nearly 500 pages long, all over the place chronologically and thematically, mixing the tedious with the inspired and inspiring...

So he's not risking any law suits for making books that are unrepresentative of Neil Young (the stunt that Geffen pulled when they were pissed off by his run of eighties albums, and a story he gleefully recalls here).

The fact that the narrative voice is so unequivocally his makes it a fascinating read overall. And every so often, just as in his songwriting and performing, he puts it so perfectly that you want to stop and applaud.

Here's his account of what it's like to play with Crazy Horse:

When music is your life, there is a key that gets you to the core.  I am so grateful that I still have Crazy Horse, knock on wood.  You see, they are my window to the cosmic world where the muse lives and breathes.  I can find myself there and go to the special area of my soul where those songs graze like buffalo.  The herd is still there, and the plains are endless.  Just getting there is the key thing, and Crazy Horse is my way of getting there.  That is the place where music lives in my soul.  It is not youth, time, or age.  I dream of playing those long jams and floating over the herd like a condor.  I dream of the changing wind playing on my feathers, my brothers and sisters around me, silently telling their stories and sharing their spirits with the sky. 

I'm listening to 'Ramada Inn' as I write - my current favourite track on Psychedelic Pill - and seeing that condor glide over the bison. Bonkers, of course, but brilliant.

Long may he run.

More Saint Dominic's

As part of a masterly promotional programme, I've just put a post on the No Depression site that includes an extract from the book and has already attracted a nice comment. You can see the piece here.

And 33 1/3 editor David Barker has kindly given me a plug on their Facebook page. Thanks, David.

A definite head of steam building... shall I get a new tuxedo for the award ceremonies now, or wait for the January sales?

(photo courtesy Mark Bittner)

Saint Dominic's Flashback - available now

I am delighted to say that my book Saint Dominic's Flashback: Van Morrison's Classic Album, Forty Years On is now available.

The idea was to take an intensive look at Saint Dominic's Preview - both how it came to be made and how it sounds today - and to tell the story in a way that could say something interesting more generally about Van Morrison's art and the music scene of the early 70s.

You can find it on Amazon in paperback and Kindle editions: in the UK, US and even Japan (though sadly the book hasn't been translated just yet...)

I've posted a press release on the Work section of the site, which I hope will whet your appetite.

It has been a fascinating process getting to this point, digging into the history, talking and corresponding with many of the talented folk who made the record, and re-immersing myself in some wonderful music.

I'm sure there is an audience out there for it: the trick now is to connect with that audience. Watch this space.

Travel notes #2

And, as always, there's new stuff coming in from younger folks, along with a new release from another of the sparkier sexa-and-septuagenarians...

Three to recommend:

Brasstronaut, from Vancouver, are one of the most striking new bands I've come across in the last couple of years. I really enjoyed their first album, Mt Chimaera, and a great live show at last year's Great Escape. Intricate arrangements, blending brass and electronics: an entirely distinctive sound.

I was disappointed with their second record, Mean Sun, when I first heard it last month. 'More of the same', was my initial reaction. Nothing grabbed me as immediately as the songs on their debut, and I put it to one side in favour of other new releases.

I'm happy to report that I was wrong. It's clearly the same band that made Mt Chimaera and, of course, those 'difficult' second albums are difficult precisely because you can't ever repeat the first thrill of finding an engaging and different new band and immersing yourself in their distinctive sound. But, on further listening, this is an entirely worthy follow-up, full of twists and turns, with both subtlety and power. 

I still hear arresting lines in the lyrics, rather than grasping overall stories. There's something going on that puts me in mind of someone fairly geeky talking in their sleep...

In other news, Hiss Golden Messenger are giving a limited edition vinyl release to a previously digital oddments collection, Lord I Love The Rain. The vinyl has yet to arrive, but I'm really enjoying the advance download - a broad mixture of things, from Michael Taylor's lo-fi acoustic strums to bigger band electric stuff. Essentially, his is just one of those voices that makes a real connection to me.

Meanwhile, the owner of another of those voices, Michael Chapman, has put out a second experimental instrumental album - after last year's feted release, The Resurrection And  Revenge Of The Clayton Peacock. I only had chance to listen to Pachyderm a couple of times before having to travel again - and it's a shame that the beautifully packaged vinyl doesn't come with a download - but some really interesting and striking improvised sounds from a true master, with a variant remix on the B-side.