Having risen to fame following an appearance at the Monterey Pop Festival, where she was the lead singer of then little-known San Francisco psychedelic rock band Big Brother and the HoldingCompany, Janis Joplin released two albums with the group, but at the conclusion of 1968, she left Big Brother to continue as a solo artist with her own backing groups. The first of these, the Kozmic Blues Band, supported Janis throughout 1969 when she performed across Europe in the early months of the year.
One of the finest shows Janis and band performed during this time was at the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam on 1st April, which was recorded for FM Broadcast and transmitted live across central Europe. Janis Joplin is of the most successful and widely known rock stars of her time. 50 years after her death she remains famous for her powerful vocals and “electric” stage presence.
Fuelled by The Kozmic Blues Band she knows how to rock a concert hall build for classical music. Experience the rich sound of this unforgettable performance like never before with hit songs like ‘Ball and Chain’, ‘Piece of my Heart’ and ‘Try (Just A Little Bit Harder)’.
Janis Joplin also performed at the Woodstock Festival in August 1969, and a few weeks later, in her home state, at The Texas International Pop Festival. This set was also broadcast and is generally deemed by critics to be a better performance to the one she gave at Woodstock. Both the Amsterdam and Texas performances are now included in full on this vinyl, providing fans with a fine opportunity to hear these rare recordings, which have remained unavailable for so long.
Live at the Concertgebouw, Amsterdam, April 1st,1969.
Janis Joplin – vocals. Sam Andrew – guitar,vocals. Gabriel Mekler – keyboards. Terry Clements – tenor saxophone. Cornelius Flowers – baritone saxophone. Luis Gasca – trumpet. Brad campbell – bass. Lonnie Castille – drums.
The new single, “I Will Be Gone,” is the title-track off her upcoming album out April 16th via Shimmy-Disc.
Per the press release: I Will Be Gone, which represents a collaboration between Emily Rodgers, her husband/guitarist Erik Cirelli and legendary producer Kramer, with whom she has worked for over a decade, was written and recorded in just six days. While the title track, “I Will Be Gone,” was fully formed before Kramer arrived, the rest of the album was written and recorded in Emily and Erik’s attic in Pittsburgh, utilizing lyrics by Emily and music by Erik. In addition to mixing, mastering, and producing the album, Kramer also serves as vocalist, bassist, pianist, and arranger, and the record belies an immediacy that is reflective of the time-limited nature of the recording process. Emily, Erik and Kramer plan to continue to write and record albums in this fashion, once the pandemic has passed and it is possible to be together again.
Emily Rodgers’s music has been compared to Mazzy Star, Cat Power, and Neil Young. Rodgers has shared stages with artists including: Magnolia Electric Company, Great Lake Swimmers,
Via Shimmy-Disc: New LP of songs coming soon from Emily Rodgers, an artist Kramer has been working with for over a decade. “This is her very best work. The emotional range of these new songs is immeasurable”, Produced by Kramer (Galaxie 500, Daniel Johnston, Will Oldham), who has praised her music in a number of interviews, callingher “a songwriter in the classic sense of the term.”
Mixed/mastered/produced by Kramer Emily Rodgers-vocals, guitar Erik Cirelli-guitar, mandolin Kramer-vocals, bass, piano Megan Williams-violin Mark Lyons-percussion
If Harlequin, she of Joker girlfriend fame, sat down and penned a song, then something in the opening section of “Seize The Power”, tells me it would be this. I’m writing this review upon the first listen as it grabbed me at the first sound. I’ve not even written the first sentence fully when I’m hearing lyrics “forget me and the Joker” and I’m all “bam! It’s not just Yonaka that are back… I’m back and I’ve still got it!”
Evidently, Yonaka never lost it. This is another dark, powerful and raw rock track, the fabrics of which are stitched together with tiny slithers of other musical genres. My instincts were to use their term Urban, but that is so trite in 2021, but to me, there is certainly a hint of grime, a dollop of dance (is Theresa channelling the late Keith Flint here? I feel like The Prodigy would make the mother of all remixes of this- and if you’re looking for a cover I wouldn’t mind Nothing But Thieves giving this beauty a bash).
Who has seen the video for the Seize The Power? It was super fun to make from smashing through glass (sugar ) being poured in like 2 bottles of lube to get that latex on and everything else. I am so proud of this and thankful to everyone who worked so hard on it. Thanks for the wake-up call….. and the dollop of empowerment!
Happy 20th Anniversary to The Cure’s eleventh studio album “Bloodflowers”, originally released in the UK February 14th 2000 and in the US February 15th, 2000.
The Cure greeted the millennium with their eleventh studio album Bloodflowers, a deliberate statement from singer and guitarist Robert Smith written in the run-up to his fortieth birthday. Whereas predecessors Wish (1992) and Wild Mood Swings (1996) were more exploratory entanglements by the British group’s five members, Bloodflowers shows Smith fully reclaiming the artistic reins, just as he had 10 years prior with Disintegration (1989).
At the time he was making Disintegration, Smith was recently married and confronting the crisis of turning 30. His meticulous care in delivering on his vision for Disintegration was not only a gift to himself and the band, but to fans as well. Nearly 31 years later, the gorgeous opus continues to stir love and tears among all who come to know it. But, perfection is never easy to attain. And, Smith was well-aware of his obsessive, if agonizing, ways.
Speaking circa Bloodflowers’ released in February 2000, Smith commented, “I was very difficult to work with on this album, as I was with Disintegration, for that reason because I insisted everything was done exactly as I wanted. So, it’s kind of unpleasant band members really cos they don’t feel that they’re of any value, I suppose, when we’re making the record. Although I try and impress upon them the fact that without the group, it wouldn’t sound like The Cure….Who’s in the group defines the sound. But, with Wish and with Wild Mood Swings, they were group collaborations and everyone had a say. And I would kind of be just a fifth member of the band really a lot of the time.”
Only about half of the songs seemed to have any real depth. To my barely adult ears, the new album sounded somewhat recycled and uninspired. “39,” the penultimate track from Bloodflowers I caught up to the headspace Smith was in when he penned that song. But, it was also distressing to feel the gravity of the lyrics and realize them to be true: “Half my life I’ve been here / Half my life in flames / Using all I ever had to keep the fire ablaze / To keep the fire ablaze / To keep the fire ablaze / To keep the fire ablaze…But there’s nothing left to burn.”
After giving so much of yourself to life, whatever that may entail—relationships, career, artistic expression, yourself—it can be incredibly draining. It’s a struggle to find the energy to keep going through the motions, and if you do, it’s often devoid of emotion, which is all the more devastating for someone whose identity is so entrenched in feeling.
But, if Bloodflowers met midlife with this scorching warning, it also offers mature meditative acceptance that youthful ambitions and hopes may blind us to. Even in their earliest moments, Cure lyrics and instrumentation held a wistful longing, a romantic pull against reality, a nostalgic yearning for what never was. And although so much of Smith’s poetry, and the accompanying melodies, acknowledge the painful, often tragic, rift between fantasy and reality, time and time again, the records return us to this dreamlike world. With Bloodflowers, Smith consciously faces these idealistic tendencies. His choice to release the album on Valentine’s Day offers further evidence.
Smith explained, “I just thought it would be kind of darkly romantic…Valentine’s Day when you’re young particularly is a day of unrequited love. It’s actually one of the most depressing days of the year because you find yourself unable to tell the person you’re lusting or loving that it’s you….There’s elements of that, I think, that are in Bloodflowers…that sense of love never ever being able to be perfect, like my constant desire for things to be just as they are, as they should be and for them always to be as they are, which is not how I want them to be.”
As the tracks progress on Bloodflowers, the illusory narrative of youth asserts itself before eventually withering into quiet acquiescence, delivering waves of the heart-melting pangs, tingles and thrills long synonymous with The Cure.
“Out of This World” is the enchantingly woozy opener, immediately drawing us into a dreamy reverie no sane soul would ever want to crawl out from—even if we know we someday must. It captivated me the moment I first heard it 20 years ago and tranquilizes me still. As mentioned, I’ve come to comprehend the sage musings of Bloodflowers, but if this song was the album’s only treasure, I’d cling tight to it forever. And in many ways, that’s what this starry-eyed, wonder-filled intro is all about.
The escapist sentiments continue into the writhing odyssey of “Watching Me Fall,” which thrusts headlong into the expansive night with nocturnal seductions and terrors that would serve handsomely as the abstract to David Lynch’s next film. Perhaps not so coincidentally, the song takes place in Tokyo, which is where I chose to celebrate my 40th birthday. (Have I already mentioned how Smith is always way ahead of me?)
Although my take on Bloodflowers has shifted in the last few years, I can’t say I’ve warmed up to the album’s third and fourth tracks, “Where the Birds Always Sing” and “Maybe Someday.” However, Smith has noted the latter was included to add a little upbeat levity to an otherwise heavy record. Unsurprisingly, it was also the first promotional track for U.S. radio, which is telling, especially since Smith was adamant about not releasing any singles for Bloodflowers.
The remainder of the album showcases the breadth of The Cure’s songwriting talents, with songs like “The Last Day of Summer” and “There Is No If” evoking some of the band’s sweetest ‘80s B-sides. In fact, although the two flow together well, “There Is No If” was written in Smith’s adolescence, signifying a constancy in character despite his newfound perspective. I’m so glad this courageously simple tune about innocent love found the light of day, and revel in its placement between the solitary depleted spirit of “The Last Day of Summer” and the shared disillusionment of “The Loudest Sound.”
It’s been so long I can’t quite remember what I envisioned upon first hearing “The Loudest Sound,” but now I see a relationship that hasn’t run its course. Rather, it lives on in calm perpetuity. The couple have grown old together and care for each other deeply. The chimes are no longer bursting and the edge-of-the-world exhilaration is no more, but they both remember what those heart-racing moments were like together. And while the tenor of their connection has evolved, they’re still side by side, united by the commonality of their youth and the loneliness of aging. Despite the silence, his thoughts still manage to echo hers. When I was younger, I probably thought of these lyrics more in the vein of The Cure’s “Apart” (from Wish), but Smith’s ever-masterful words are well-suited to new interpretations.
As Bloodflowers approaches its end with the aforementioned “39” and the closing title track, it pushes past the acknowledgement of our individual finite capabilities into a greater spiritual understanding. The fire may indeed be almost out, but it’s better to accept that as part of life than to fight reality.
Before Bloodflowers, the Cure trilogy consisted of their second, third and fourth albums— Seventeen Seconds (1980), Faith (1981) and Pornography (1982)—as they were created in close succession and thematically related. However, once Bloodflowers was completed, Smith reassessed the trilogy as Pornography, Disintegration and Bloodflowers, citing these works as the three definitive achievements in the band’s career. I still wouldn’t say Bloodflowers is in my top three Cure albums, but I certainly have gained newfound appreciation in the last few years and see how it rounds out a story, for Smith the individual and the artist—and how the two are irrevocably intertwined.
Smith recalled, “When we were making it, everyone in the group believed that it would be the last Cure album because I wanted to have that sense of finality. There’s no point in making a record like Bloodflowers if you really think you’re going to do something else. I wanted it so that Bloodflowers would be so perfectly The Cure, there was no point in making another Cure album.”
The Cure
Robert Smith – guitar, keyboard, 6-string bass, vocals
As a member of the Buzzcocks, Shelley—alongside co-guitarist Steve Diggle, bassist Steve Garvey and drummer John Maher—released three albums (Another Music In A Different Kitchen, Love Bites and A Different Kind Of Tension) in the late ’70s which pretty much drafted the blueprint for modern pop punk.
The band originally started with frontman Howard Devoto in the lead singer slot for the infamous 1977 EP Spiral Scratch. When Devoto quit to join the band Magazine, Diggle was enlisted, and Shelley moved to the vocalist position.
During their late-’70s tenure on the United Artists label, the Buzzcocks crafted one perfect pop-punk track after another. They were masters of fractured love songs that were everything from cautionary (“Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t’ve)”) to awesomely creepy (“Orgasm Addict”). While the band had energy to spare, the tunefulness of the songs caught the ears of fans of the then-nascent new-wave scene.
June 21st, 2019, Royal Albert Hall, London: What was intended as a celebration of perhaps English punk’s most universally beloved band, The Buzzcocks, is now a wake. On December. 6th, 2018, frontman Pete Shelley died of a heart attack in Estonia, where he’d been enjoying a less hectic existence than London had afforded him for 30 years.
The occasion was supposed to be the biggest 1977 punk gig ever, with opening sets from Penetration and the Skids. The original Buzzcocks rhythm section of bassist Steve Garvey and drummer John Maher would join remaining co-guitarist/songwriter Steve Diggle and current drummer Danny Farrant and latter-day bassist Chris Remington. But now the center mic had no one manning it. The band’s guitarist and chief songwriter was gone. Diggle announced he’d keep Buzzcocks going, in an agreement made with Shelley. Valiant and appropriate, considering all the best modern-day Buzzcocks songs, such as the extraordinary “Sick City Sometimes,” were Diggle’s. When you see them on tour, he will be singing Shelley’s songs, too. But that night at Royal Albert Hall, a brace of special guests took the stage. Peter Perrett of the Only Ones; Penetration’s Pauline Murray; The Skids’ Richard Jobson; Dave Vanian and Captain Sensible of the Damned; Tim Burgess of the Charlatans UK; and Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore.
For the grand finale, every single guest vocalist piled onstage to sing the greatest Buzzcocks tune, “Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t’ve?).” They needn’t have bothered: All that was necessary was to turn the mic toward the audience and play instrumentally. The crowd knew every word.
This was because Shelley did write the best songs in all of punk. So good, they went beyond punk. He had a keen melodic sense. It was born of ’60s pop but leavened with a yen for the strident experimentation of German art-rock acts (Can, Neu!) and the fundamentalist rock ’n’ roll of glamsters such as David Bowie. But most important was his subject matter: He wrote supremely universal lyrics. They were almost all love songs, except no one got the object of desire in a Shelley song. And they might as well have been objects, considering gender was never specified in any of them. Perhaps this was due to his lifelong bisexuality. But it was as revolutionary as any political lyric coming out of London.
There are exactly five essential Buzzcocks albums that are stone-cold classics.
Behold the dawn of U.K. indie rock, as well as DIY and several other historic firsts. Buzzcocks were initially conceived by university students Howard Trafford and Peter McNeish in 1976, after having their Damascene moment seeing the Sex Pistols earlier that year. Diggle met them after they became Howard Devoto and Pete Shelley at the summer 1976 Pistols gig in Manchester that sired the entire local scene. (The Fall, Joy Division, Factory Records and the Smiths all start here.) Diggle was meeting someone else at the venue, and it was then Sex Pistols manager Malcolm McLaren accidentally introduced him to the Buzzcocks singer/guitarist. With teenage Keith Moon acolyte Maher on drums, they wed a noise akin to a krautrock Ramones to Devoto’s arch lyrics, delivered in a flat yawp impossible without Johnny Rotten’s example.
Following a rough-and-ready demo session (captured on Domino’s Time’s Up LP), the band decided to properly document the sound they’d forged. Four songs were recorded in late December 1976 by Martin Hannett, the man who shaped the sound of Manchester. “It took three hours [to record], with another two for mixing,” Devoto recalled of the session. Funds exhausted, the band borrowed £500 from friends and family to press it. Released on Jan. 29th, 1977 on their own New Hormones label, Spiral Scratch made Buzzcocks the first British punk act to issue their own records. It swiftly sold out its initial thousand-copy pressing.
Historical value aside, the music makes this such a brilliant release. Crisply recorded and sonically dry, there’s an urgency to these speedy missives, especially “Breakdown” and “Time’s Up.”“Friends Of Mine” bemoans pals who keep Devoto “pissing adrenaline,” while Shelley unleashes a two-note guitar hook across “Boredom” that sounds simultaneously like a siren and the death of six-string heroics.
Almost immediately following Spiral Scratch‘s release, Devoto decided punk’s over and he’s done all he wanted with Buzzcocks. He left to finish his university studies, eventually forming prime post-punk outfit Magazine after graduation. This put Shelley in front of the centre vocal mic, enabling Diggle to return to guitar. Garth Davies assumed bass duties, replaced by the more-amenable Garvey by the time Buzzcocks signed with United Artists Records. The explosive “Orgasm Addict” 45 soon followed, guaranteed to escape airplay.
In December, the band entered the legendary Olympic Studios to essentially liquidate their inventory of Devoto-era material for a debut LP. Another Music In A Different Kitchen offered 11 slices of loud speed pop. With Maher’s animalistic drums propelling Shelley and Diggle’s hot-wired guitars, the former’s fey, delicate warble delivered lyrics surely penned by Devoto, such as the skewering of the traditional rock obsession with hot rods, “Fast Cars.” But it was on “I Don’t Mind” that Shelley previewed his vision for Buzzcocks’ future: a singles band offering a bitter view of romance, with no one getting the object of desire.
Six months after the release of their debut LP, Buzzcocks appeared bleary-eyed and disheveled from Love Bites‘ pure white sleeve. The music also sounded less upbeat than Another Music. This is the sound of a band who’d undertaken two national tours, countless Top Of The Pops appearances and issued two hit singles on the way to its creation. Not that Love Bites lacked energy. The key track is their greatest single, “Ever Fallen In Love.” Perhaps the most glorious singalong ever written, the lyrics lament a secret love that could ruin a friendship. (“I can’t see much of a future/Unless we find out what’s to blame, what a shame/And we won’t be together much longer/Unless we realize that we are the same.”) Yes, Shelley essentially wrote “Love Will Tear Us Apart” a full two years before Joy Division did. “Ever Fallen In Love” is better, however.
The greatest Buzzcocks album isn’t a proper LP. It’s a greatest hits album, assembled from the eight U.K. 45s they’d released across the previous two years, presented in sequence with the A-sides on Side One and the Bs on the reverse. Intended as a U.S. introduction to the band as they embarked on their first American tour in the second half of 1979, “Singles Going Steady” worked because it presented all of Shelley and Diggle’s best material. It’s their essential music. Buzzcocks would never record a more perfect full-length.
The last original Buzzcocks album was the sound of Shelley’s nervous breakdown, set to a precursor of modern cut-and-paste digital record production. Yes, it was recorded analogue. But all guitars and vocals were set atop tape loops of the Maher/Garvey rhythm section. Electronic elements were seeped in, flavouring even Diggle’s punk screamers (“Mad Mad Judy”). But the heart of this LP is the fragile, disturbed tunes Shelley was penning under doses of LSD. “You Say You Don’t Love Me” was the one great 45 not on Singles Going Steady. But the album’s highlight is truly the lengthy existential breakdown “I Believe,” with its shrieked refrain of “There is no love in this world anymore!” From here came the 45 RPM triptych that became 1981’s Parts 1,2, 3 and dissolution until eight years later. Buzzcocks live, since 1989.
Unlike many acts with similar beginnings, the Buzzcocks carried on making great records and sharing stages with contemporary acts. Whether he was supporting ’90s alt-rock staples (Nirvana, Pearl Jam) and still getting must-see notices on stages from Warped Tour (summer of 2006) to the 2017 Riot Fest stage, Shelley was still bringing joy, sweat and harmonies for your head, feet and heart. The man may be gone, but his place in punk history will continuously resonate and evolve.
“It’s good that people like what we do,” Shelley told AP in July 2008. “It’s an unexpected side effect because when we started out, we thought no one would like what we did at all. It was the most uncommercial form of music we were attempting to do.”
When younger fans approached him to say their parents were big fans of the Buzzcocks, Shelley would say “I congratulate them on a fine choice of parents.”
This song is an anthem of sorts about the possibility of each new, seemingly meandering and unimportant day. I use the reference to Bloomsday, born from James Joyce’s “Ulysses”, as a substitute for any day, just a normal, nothing special, any day. The song is meant to inspire the agency we have over our participation in any day. Although it feels like much of the time we are being pulled along in life, we have the instrumentality to find within us light and belief.
I also have a music video for the song which you can view now! Because this song reminds me of the capacity I have for influencing my own day, the days of others, and a larger connectivity, I wanted to express that in the video as I was coming up with the concept. I wanted to write a visual story that showed the simplicity of that exchange. I had the idea of this cake being passed around in a very simple “pay it forward” fashion…one person is shown kindness, light, belief, wisdom… and can choose to pass that along to someone else.
FYI *We did not eat this cake afterwards as it had to be frozen multiple times between shoot days AND many fingers and clothing articles ended up in it or upon it, so it went in the bin…sadly* RIP Bloomsday cake.
Since I’ve been sequestered at home for the past year, I’ve been reminded of the specific beauty and complexity of Oklahoma and the fascinating things being made here and I want to share that with others. in celebration of vacationing in your own back yard, I’m giving away a mega-prize of Oklahoma-made products to someone. It will include art prints and objects by some of my favourite local artists, a guitar pedal from a local boutique pedal company, books by local authors and on local interest, local food products, and other goodies. All you have to do to enter is pre-save the album on your favourite streaming service – make sure to tick yes on receiving updates so we can contact you if you win!
My new EP ‘I Guess We Live Here Now’ will be out April 9th on Real Kind Records. Pre-order and listen to new single ‘Bloomsday’ now. Pre-order the Limited Edition 10″ vinyl record exclusively on Bandcamp now.
The Other Half were formed in Los Angeles in 1965; some of the members met in the MGM mailroom. They played covers of The Kinks, The Yardbirds, The Animals, and The Rolling Stones, and their first gig was opening for The Doors. Amazingly none of the original members were still in the band when they recorded ‘Mr. Pharmacist’ in 1966 – early guitarist Tommy Lennon was drafted, while keyboardist John Branca was fired because he was too young to play in 18 plus venues. Composed by singer Jeff Nowlen, ‘Mr. Pharmacist’ was released in November 1966 but wasn’t a big seller perhaps its barely veiled drug references were too daring for the time.
‘Mr. Pharmacist’ is similar to Count Five’s ‘Psychotic Reaction’, released a few months earlier, in but it stands on its own as a great pop tune. Many younger listeners may have heard The Fall’s 1986 cover before the original. The Fall’s version is tougher sounding but Jeff Nowlen’s vocal is surprisingly similar to The Fall’s acerbic Mark E. Smith. Nowlen often adds an “uh” to the end of each sentence, just like Smith.
The Other Half released their only studio album in 1968 – it didn’t include ‘Mr. Pharmacist. Lead guitarist Randy Holden left the band shortly after, and they broke up after they were unable to find a suitable replacement. Rhythm guitarist Geoff Westen continued his music career but also worked as a graphic designer, creating the sleeve for Steely Dan’s Aja. Lead guitarist Randy Holden joined Blue Cheer for their 1969 album New! Improved!, while bassist Larry Brown found work in TV and film composing.
The Other Half – Mr. Pharmacist / I’ve Come So Far
Celebrating over 50 years since the release of ‘All Right Now’, and Free’s classic album “Fire and Water”, this official book features hundreds of contributions from fans, musicians and, of course, Paul Rodgers and Simon Kirke.
In their careers beyond Free, Rock ‘n Roll Fantasy follows the band members’ journeys via an oral history of eyewitness accounts and memories, incorporating Bad Company, The Firm, The Law,Queen and other projects. Rock ‘n’ Roll Fantasy features previously unseen photos and rare, collectable memorabilia from the late-sixties British blues boom to the present day.
Passion, excitement, and emotion are the words that keep cropping up in the pages of this book. The music that Paul Rodgers and Simon Kirke have created, solo, as part of Free, Bad Company, Queen and other outfits has deeply touched and affected the lives of so many people. Rock ‘n’ Roll Fantasy is an outpouring of the stories and eyewitness accounts of concerts and precious moments experienced by fans and musicians who literally can’t get enough of their music.
And the love and respect for Paul and Simon in these pages is also directed at Paul Kossoff, Andy Fraser, Mick Ralphs, Boz Burrell and many more musicians. They have all contributed to the unique-sounding blues rock that the various bands have performed and recorded so brilliantly over more than half a century. From Paul Rodgers’ Road Runners in the early 60s to his most recent Bad Company and the Free Spirit Tours tours, the quality of the music has remained undiminished. Paul Rodgers is the epitome of the rock god but, as the stories in this book will attest, the most approachable and generous of rock stars. It is no surprise to discover that the loyalty of the fans contributing to this book is so unwavering.
From the Nag’s Head in Battersea to Madison Square in New York City, this is the journey made by Free, Bad Company and the rest and described by the people who were there…
David Roberts is the author of music locations guidebooks Rock Atlas UK and USA and the biography of Stephen Stills: Change Partners. Farther back in time,
“I am really enjoying it so very much. The anecdotes, stories and memories from fans and the bands are real gems.” Steve Scott
“Beyond excited. Fantastic job!!! I love the layout and all the stories.” Paula Terry
“I can’t begin to tell you how excited I was to open the package and take this beautiful book out and begin reading and looking at pictures. You did an absolutely sensational job on this and I’m sure Paul and Simon are thrilled with the outcome.” Tony Scott
“What a beautiful book this is! Congratulations! It is indeed an honour to be included in the book, and I simply can’t wait to read it!” Jan Ramsey
“I have the special edition. The book is fantastic. It has been written, and put together brilliantly. I love reading the memories of the fans, other bands and music writers. The photos are great too. Thank you so much for a great walk down memory lane.” Christine Killen
“Rock ‘N’ Roll Fantasy – The Musical Journey of Free and Bad Company” has been nominated for the 2021 Association for Recorded Sound Collections Awards for Excellence in Historical Recorded Sound Research.
“Without a doubt, this could well be one of the finest books of 2020!” Strutter Magazine
“Rock ‘n’ Roll Fantasy is, much like the artist it writes about, brilliant.” New Sounds Magazine
Both books come with a handwritten foreword by both Paul Rodgers and Simon Kirke.
The Special Edition is limited to 500 copies only and are individually numbered.
Slip Case Edition comes complete with bonus items including:
Pale Waves from the band’s very beginning. They had the dark, brooding look of an ‘80s goth act, but a discography full of danceable pop hits. Even while receiving acclaim as the NME Under The Radar Award winner before their debut album’s release, they caught heat from critics for sounding too much like other indie-pop artists. With all of the discourse on the individuality of Pale Waves (or lack thereof), their second album “Who Am I?” amplifies the qualities that caused fans to label them as the next big thing
Pale Waves are looking forward to calmer waters in 2021. Last year promised so much—the release of their sophomore album and an ensuing world tour, for one thing—but amid the COVID-19 pandemic, the UK indie rock band found their usually steady boat rocked by rough seas.
A near-deadly tour bus crash last March wasn’t the only life-altering event that they endured (drummer Ciára Doran, lead guitarist Hugo Silvani, and bassist Charlie Wood were lucky to escape with their lives). Self-identity struggles plagued Doran and lead singer Heather Baron-Gracie, and the usually tight-knit duo found themselves butting heads over their next album’s musical direction. Add in a life-threatening virus that completely changed how records are produced, and the physical and mental impact of numerous setbacks was taking their toll.
And yet, hope sprung eternal. The pandemic’s arrival allowed Doran, Silvani, and Wood to recover from their injuries. For Baron-Gracie, the global shutdown provided the opportunity for some long-overdue self reflection—a period that has not only led to Pale Waves’ frontwoman being more open about her sexuality and inner demons, but one that lit a creative fire.
Born out of that soul-searching is “Who Am I?”,Pale Waves’ second LP that is equal parts post-grunge and pop-rock, a middle finger to societal labels and a haven for anyone who feels lost or alone. Speaking to us over Zoom, Baron-Gracie revealed the unusual influences behind the album, discussed comparisons to The 1975, and shared why the foursome are closer than they’ve ever been.
Pale Waves excels at making the personal feel relatable on “Run To” and “Tomorrow.” While “Run To” is told from Baron-Gracie’s perspective and “Tomorrow” is a collection of stories from others, both songs take an optimistic view of the growing pains that arrive with coming of age as an outcast. With catchy and relatable one-liners like “sexuality isn’t a choice” and “everything is going well / except my mental health,” the band reaches through their past of stifling small towns and feelings of hopelessness to uplift fans who know their feelings all too well.
“Who Am I?” opens with “Change,” a track that trades the ‘80s glam synths of Pale Waves’ debut album My Mind Makes Noises in for a ‘90s-inspired acoustic guitar. The switch-up is perfect for frontwoman Heather Baron-Gracie’s vocal prowess, with the singer’s voice landing somewhere between the pop-with-an-attitude of Avril Lavigne and the raw emotion of The Cranberries’ Dolores O’Riordan. This isn’t to say Pale Waves floats by on the nostalgia factor alone—the band translates their many inspirations into their own brand of indie pop that feels perfectly fit for 2021, with their lyrics bouncing between relationships, identity and mental health. On an album centered around a question of identity, the band is at their strongest when shouting out the answer. Few songs on the record compare to “You Don’t Own Me” in terms of pure anthemic pop-rock, as Baron-Gracie defiantly asserts, “You don’t own me / and I’ll do whatever I want to” in the face of everyday misogyny.
“Cosmic Thing” is the fifth studio album by American new wave band the B-52’s, released in 1989. It contains the singles ” Love Shack ” and ” Roam “. The success of the album served as a comeback after the death of guitarist Ricky Wilson in 1985. Once The B-52’s released their underrated fourth LP Bouncing Off The Satellites in the wake of the death of guitarist Ricky Wilson, the impact of losing such a key member on the frontlines of the AIDS epidemic made it difficult to think about recording new music. For a moment, “She Brakes For Rainbows” seemed like the last song we’d ever hear from the Athens, GA new wave heroes.
“After Ricky died, we felt that the band was finished,” admits Keith Strickland, who co-wrote “Rainbows” with Wilson and also took over his major role in the band as lead guitarist. “We couldn’t imagine going on without him.”
“When Ricky died, it was very uncertain if we would continue or if we could continue,” remembers Kate Pierson, who along with Ricky’s sister Cindy Wilson comprises the iconic vocal harmonies of the band. “We all just withdrew into our own worlds for a little while and then we began communicating again. So during that time Keith moved upstate and I also bought a house up here as well. We were neighbours across the pond.” Strickland, who was living in Manhattan at the time (as was singer Fred Schneider and Wilson and her husband), felt a need to relocate from his citified surroundings. And just as such greats as Bob Dylan and Sonny Rollins had done in the past, he chose to head to Woodstock, long before it became the go-to transplant for Metro area expats.
“After Ricky died, I just wanted to get out of New York City,” he says. “I was also studying Buddhism and had on occasion attended teachings and events at the Karma Triyana Dharmachakra Monastery in Woodstock. I had always wanted to live in the mountains, so I thought Woodstock would be an excellent place for me to live.”
As it turned out, Strickland was on to something. The town of Woodstock has long been a rustic getaway residence for such music icons as Bob Dylan, Todd Rundgren, Paul Butterfield and Jack DeJohnette. And for one of the B-52’s chief songwriters, who just lost the Lennon to his McCartney, living in such a holistic habitat indeed opened up his creative pores in short order, creating the roots of what would become Cosmic Thing, released 30 years ago on June 27th, 1989.
“I moved to Woodstock in the summer of 1986 and rented a little cabin on a pond off Wittenberg Road that was covered with lily pads and abundant with wildlife,” explains Strickland. “It was idyllic and very healing. I wrote the instrumental portion of the songs. I would record a multi-track of music, and Kate, Fred and Cindy would improvise over it, and together, we would arrange their lyrics and melodies with the music. I remember starting the track for ‘June Bug’ with wildlife sounds that I’d recorded on the pond.”
“Keith is a very underrated musician,” Schneider comments . “The music he brought us for Cosmic Thing, we thought, was brilliant and inspiring. There was some trepidation about doing another record, but once we heard the music and got to jamming, everything fell into place really quickly.”
Pierson also moved to Woodstock, The singer also saw it as a place of catharsis in the wake of Ricky Wilson’s death.
“For Keith and me, it was a sense of peace we found up here,” she reveals. “Just being in this small town, it was the same as it was in Athens. They both have a similar spirit in that it’s very liberal and there’s a lot of interesting musicians who live here. Being in the country while working on Cosmic Thing gave us the easy going, porch swing life we had in Athens that we needed to make these songs.”
The songs on Cosmic Thing were a slight move away from the band’s previous four albums which had been perceived as more underground “new wave.” Their 1979 eponymous debut album was a hit, particularly in Australia where it achieved the number 3 spot on the charts along with all three singles achieving similar success. Both “Rock Lobster” and “Planet Claire” have become some of music’s most legendary songs in their own right and have also gone on to forever be synonymous with the band and the new wave era they epitomized throughout the ‘80s.
The band’s following three albums did moderately well, with many claiming that their sophomore LP Wild Planet (1980) is their best. Whammy! (1983) and Bouncing Off The Satellites (1986) did not go on to achieve the same success as the previous two and maybe because of this, the band felt the need in the making of the latter album to write separately and switch up instruments (Keith Strickland moved from drums to guitar and keyboard).
Eventually all four surviving members of the B-52’s would agree to find an apt studio location to begin fleshing out the cache of songs that would become Cosmic Thing. They chose two distinct locations: Sigma Sound Studios in New York City, where they would cut the majority of the material with Nile Rodgers of Chic. But for four songs, they went to Dreamland Studios in West Hurley, a little town in northern Ulster County not too far from Woodstock, and record with Don Was, who came in almost immediately on the back of his work on Bonnie Raitt’s Grammy-winning classic Nick of Time.
“I remember working on Cosmic Thing like I remember summer camp when I was a kid,” said Don Was . “I had just wrapped Nick of Time and headed to New York. And here I was at Dreamland, I remember sitting out back there at night. The nights were beautiful, and you could hear all the crickets. It was lovely, man. I don’t remember any stress. I recall driving one night we saw the Northern Lights at a Zen monastary up on a mountain. I remember it as a very moving and warm experience up there.”
“I remember one night up at the studio, we had a UFO sighting,” adds Wilson. “Fred and I were standing in the front yard and saw this light in the sky that was shaking and twirling around and around, kind of like in a unity pattern and jumping all around. We could not figure out what it was, but it stuck around for a little while and then left.”
“Dreamland turned out to be the perfect studio for us,” recalls Strickland. “The big room sounds great. I remember when we were recording ‘Love Shack,’ a lightning storm knocked out the electricity in the middle of the song during the bass breakdown. So we took a dinner break, went to the Gypsy Wolf Mexican Restaurant in Woodstock. Then returned to the studio and listened to the last take, and realized how good it sounded, so we quickly went for another take and spliced to the two together.”
“I remember Don Was sitting in the kitchen and we all sat around the kitchen table and listened to cassettes on a portable cassette player,” adds Pierson. “Then we’d go and drive around in the car and listen on the car stereo, because that’s the way most people were listening to music at the time.”
The region would continue to serve as a harbinger of healing and salvation for the band when they found the location for what would trump “Rock Lobster” as the singular hit of their careers. The “Love Shack” was indeed a little ole place nestled in the deep woods of Plattekill, NY, in southern Ulster County, where their unwitting local fans had no idea some MTV video history was going down inside a wildly designed, multi-coloured house owned by ceramic artists Phillip Maberry and Scott Walker.
“Our friend Tommy and the famous hairdresser Danilo, they told us when they heard the song ‘Love Shack’ and we were gonna do a video they said ‘Oh my God, you have to do the video in this house. It literally is the Love Shack,” Pierson recalls. “So I went to the director and told him we have to shoot at this house. I had gone up there though I didn’t know Phillip and Scott lived in this house, which was a literal shack. And they had the checkerboard roof, and two goats named Kate and Cindy. There was an amazing garden and it was in this sorta grotto with stone all around.”
“It was actually already painted in those bright and fanciful colours,” Strickland remembers. “We invited friends from the city to join us. It was a beautiful summer’s day in the Hudson Valley.”
“It was a perfect place to film,” adds Wilson. “It was a glorious day, and all the colours in the house all popped. It was amazing.” “We all loved it, but the director wanted to do it in a studio in New York, not have to schlep upstate,” Pierson explains. “But once they saw it, they were like, ‘Oh yes, this is it.’ So they made these signs that say ‘Stay Away Fools’ and ‘Love Rules’ and put the goats in the video. And we invited all our friends and had a party. The video was just one big party. We started out really early in the morning and it turned into this rave. RuPaul got the dance line going, and it almost felt like we weren’t being videotaped.”
“It was indeed a party,” Strickland agrees. “We wanted to recreate the Soul Train dance line, but the video director didn’t get the process. So RuPaul, who was there, directed that scene.”
“It was great having RuPaul in it,” adds Schneider in regards to the drag legend’s public debut on the set of the video. “I had met him years before on the 14th St. bus. But the police, however, didn’t like us up there.” And given just how ubiquitous “Love Shack” remains 30 years later, especially as a wedding standard as essential to the night as the “Chicken Dance,” it’s hard to believe the song almost didn’t make the finished album.
“We finished all the songs we had to do a day early, so we had this extra day to do something,” remembers Was. “So they said, ‘We have this other thing, but its 15 minutes long and we haven’t figured it out.’ I remember sitting on the steps outside the studio and thinking about this thing they were improvising about a love shack and going, ‘Well maybe that’s the chorus.'”
“I remember how ‘Love Shack’ wasn’t put together yet, and Don said how it needed a chorus,” interjects Pierson. “It wasn’t even gonna make the album because it wasn’t solidified. But after we added that chorus, Bingo, here it is; it sounds like a hit. But we didn’t aim to write hits, we aimed to heal ourselves and channel Ricky’s spirit. That was the goal, and I knew his presence was there.”
“So we started rearranging the lyrics like a puzzle, and we were able to get it down to three and a half minutes with a chorus and some semblance of a plot line and cut it,” explains Was. “The first take was killer except when we got to the tin roof rusted part. Cindy started with this exuberance that shocked everybody. I don’t know what that line means; I don’t think anybody knew what that line means (laughs). But she infused it with so much feeling, it threw everybody. I think she even choked up at the end of the line. It was really deep, and we tried to do it over and over and we couldn’t get the feeling we had in that first take. It took me all night to figure it out before I realized everything should be punched in right after the tin roof rusted line, because we never got that thing back again, that manic energy.”
“We had a hard time selling ‘Love Shack’ at first,” admits Schneider. “I remember our A&R guy taking me around while Kate and Cindy would do soundcheck and we would go to radio stations basically to beg them to play the song. Even the record company thought it was too weird. I thought it was the most accessible thing we had done. College radio embraced it immediately, but mainstream wouldn’t touch it until they saw how well it was doing. We went to No. 1 in several markets, though in America we were beat out by Milli Vanilli and Paula Abdul, both of whom were accused of not singing on their hit songs!”
It’s a wonder to look back on the roots of Cosmic Thing on its 30th anniversary, commemorated with the release of a deluxe edition of the album by Rhino Records that includes a killer live show from The Woodlands, TX, in 1990 as the bonus disc (along with an expanded version of the classic LP that includes remixes of the album’s triad of hits in “Love Shack,” “Channel Z” and “Roam”). It might not be as ubiquitous to the Woodstock region as, say, The Band’s Music From Big Pink, Bob Dylan’s The Basement Tapes orThe Muddy Waters Woodstock Album, but the catharsis experienced during the creation of Cosmic Thing couldn’t have been achieved anywhere else.
“Cosmic Thing wasn’t a plan to do this big comeback for Ricky,” Pierson explains. “It really was a healing thing. It was about doing it together as a means to heal, because after Ricky died we have this amazing, precious thing that was each other still. So we figured let’s get together and try this again. And the vibe of being at Dreamland in Ulster County to record this album was magic.
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