Reunions, reunions, reunions

Over the past couple of years, there has been an increasing trend of bands getting back together years after splitting up for whatever reasons.

The latest two are from the complete extremes of the spectrum: Steps - purveyors of cheesy, trashy, smile-until-your-face-hurts-even-though-you're-dying-inside pop and the Stone Roses - purveyors of Madchester, stare at your shoes, borderline tuneless singer yet the band of a generation that split acrimoniously after a long-awaited much anticipated second album failed to ignite the masses still in awe at the stellar debut album.

For me, the news of the Roses 'resurrection' was of more interest. Having only heard about their legend secondhand and been made to settle for multiple listenings of the albums, and the odd youtube video, the chance to witness it all firsthand is tantalising to say the least. Admittedly, the first shows in Manchester came around too soon for my bank-balance to have recovered enough to fund a couple of tickets. I just have to hope there will be a substantial tour to follow the scheduled album.

But this brings me on to a little gripe of mine...

Why risk the legacy for an ill-advised attempt to reclaim past glories? One reason is probably to supplement the retirement funds in light of the current financial meltdown. Another maybe a poor indictment on the current music scene.

Other bands that got back together with varying degrees of success: Take That (luckily, their fans grew up with them, so were generally at the age that meant they had the buying power to justify it); Spice Girls (just as the individual solo careers hit the rocks - short-lived most likely because nobody cared); Blur (because Damon Albarn needs to have as many projects on the go as humanly possible, and Alex James wanted a break from making cheese); Pulp (just because they can) and Spandau Ballet (because they all sued Gary Kemp, and having used all their money to do so, needed more, and Gary Kemp was feeling sorry for them!).

I've also heard that Liam Gallagher is open to a reconvening of Oasis to celebrate and tour for the 20th anniversary of (What's The Story) Morning Glory. Noel is less so, and I am on the side of the older Gallagher. There's no need.

One reunion I would like to see though is The Smiths. Not for any new material, just a bit of a tour playing the old stuff.

Oh, and before I go, the Dave project is continuing at a slower speed than expected, thanks to Sony and their dastardly addictive Playstation2!!!!

How times change...

There was a time in the quite distant past (oh, how depressing that is) when I became obsessed with football. And with that obsession came the peer pressure: Liverpool or Manchester United??!

Well, my first experience of footballclubreplicakitmania was actually not the real McCoy, as they say. My mum very skilfully copied the Derby County ram and stitched it on to a pair of plain white shorts. And I wore those shorts with pride. This was the first time I had had football gear specifically for me. Before this, I'd had the usual hand-me-downs from my big brother: England '82, Villa '81 (already a hand-me-down for James), then another unofficial Napoli effort from the Maradona era, Liverpool '84, and then Liverpool '85-ish away.

And then, I gave in, and the pestering of my parents began. My first full football kit came as a proud 9 year old boy with my full Liverpool kit in red. I was on the bandwagon and it was Liverpool-bound. The next season saw me running around on that red Liverpool kit with the white flecks on that looked like I'd been flicked with paint - the one they wore when they last won the title. I also celebrated England's World Cup success with a full away kit (again, red - must have been my favourite colour or something).

Then something inside me changed. Even now, 20 years on, I find it hard to explain or justify. One April lunchtime I was sitting in my parent's loung watching the FA Cup Semi-final between Arsenal and Tottenham. James was rooting for Arsenal, and something that I can only put down to healthy brotherly competition stirred me to support the Spurs. Gazza's free-kick started off a glorious Tottenham victory and a new glory-seeking affiliation was born. Spurs won the cup sporting a fancy new kit, and weeks later, I was wearing that very same kit (less the beer sponsorship) on the school field in a summer football course run by the legendary Frank Clarke. But to us kids he was just 'Frank'.

A few years later, I was one of the many excited Tottenham fans awaiting the new season with Klinsmann, Dumitrescu, Anderton et al. I was suitably adorned with the Tottenham shirt of the time (with the funny double collar thing... you know the one), playing football with my mates, celebrating goals with Klinsmann dives through the mud. I even went as far as to buy Germany shorts on a school trip to Germany!!

And then, the replica kits dried up. Mostly because I was considered 'too old' by my parents to have a football kit bought for me, and then lack of funds meant I couldn't by my own. But for my 21st Birthday, my brother kindly helped me fill the void with the all-white Italy kit of the 2000 European Championships (complete with shirt number 21, and name Ercoli - a Sopranos in-joke for those wondering). Then, if I remember correctly, it wasn't until the 2002 World Cup that I bought my next piece of replica merchandise. It was England again.

Then, in the summer of 2004 (I think, I may be wrong) I purchased my first and, to date, only Shrewsbury shirt. A special day indeed. Being different, of course, it was the away shirt, but classy all the same.

A couple of years later, I picked up a Glasgow Rangers away shirt in a JJB sale for a tenner, much to my now ex-wife's chagrin.

And my most recent purchase came in the form of last years Rangers 3rd kit shorts, and home socks (basically both black). I'm always on the look out for a bargain - my next purchase may well be from Austrian football (yes, they do play it, and yes, they're not particularly good at it).

But last weekend, for the first time, I took my eldest son and got him a football kit. His head has been turned by the financial masters in the blue half of Manchester, but, just like his dad, he went for the away kit. A chip off the old block.

And I'm still waiting to buy him his first Shrewsbury shirt, but you know all about that...

Notice to 'Dave' fans

Evening all, because for me, it is the evening.

Just a quick note to say I've taken the Dave stories off the blog.

That's because they will soon be appearing in print. Not an e-book, not on Kindle, or shitePad. In print. On real paper. You will be able to turn the pages and everything. Won't that be nice?

Before you get carried away in congratulating me on a publishing deal to rival JK Rowling, calm down, I'll be going down the self-publication route.

If you want a copy, please leave a comment here, or on the inevitable Facebook post, or by tweeting in my general direction.

I can't give a publication date as yet, as I've got to pull my finger out and write another four or five stories, but I would hope to have something ready for Christmas.

I'm quite excited by the way.

Don't worry, I will be bringing some other writing projects to the blog over the next few months.

JM.

The End of the Long And Winding Albums You Should Own Beatles Special

It's been a while since the last blog post, but hopefully you've got everything you need up to now. You've been basking in the White Album, marvelling at Sgt Pepper and been confounded by Magical Mystery Tour.
Now settle down and prepare to be amazed by the Beatles final albums recorded and released despite the internal mayhem and bitching going on.

Yellow Submarine
The third Beatles movie, released purely to fulfill a contract and with next to no input from the band themself. The accompanying soundtrack album was also thin on new Beatles music, with just four tracks getting a first airing. Alongside 'Yellow Submarine' (obviously) and 'All You Need Is Love', we are treated to 'Hey Bulldog', 'All Together Now' and two George Harrison originals 'It's Only A Northern Song', a tongue in cheek observation on the Publishing Company responsible for Lennon and McCartney original compositions, and 'It's All Too Much'. The rest of the album is taken up by orchestral incidental music taken from the film, written by George Martin.

Abbey Road

Whilst technically not recorded until after the debacle that was the Let It Be sessions, for chronology's sake, as it was the next one to be released, it's the turn of Abbey Road. The quality and recording of the tracks allows this album to easily hold it's own in the 'Greatest Beatles Album' argument. From the opening intro of 'Come Together', which is followed by one of the greatest love songs ever written, 'Something' to the oppressiveness of 'I Want You (She's So Heavy)' the tracks ooze genius (not counting the childish 'Maxwell's Silver Hammer'). Even 'Octopus' Garden' has a charm about it, Ringo's second successful writing effort. Then, the medley that makes up the second half of the album winds and rises and falls through all sorts of moods ending in, well 'The End'. A perfect way to bring their recording career as a band to a close. But it doesn't. After the gentle piano ends, you get a couple of seconds of silence, then 'Her Majesty' comes from nowhere to finish it all off. And reminds you of one thing: Never try and second guess The Beatles!!

 

Let It Be

But it wasn't the end of it all, not as far as the fans were concerned. In May 1970, after months of wrangling, arguing, remixing and so on, John Lennon called in his new best mate, Phil Spector, to give the recordings an overhaul. From the original intention to be an 'as live' album, warts and all, it became more of the same. Schmaltzy choral sounds, double-tracking of sounds were added to the bare bones in some attempt to make the music marketable. And yet, the tracks are still heavyweight entries into the Beatles canon: 'Let It Be' and 'The Long And Winding Road' are two McCartney gems, John's 'Across The Universe' is a lovely song (and well used to sing my youngest son to sleep), George gives us 'I Me Mine' and 'For You Blue'. And the album closes with the return to basics, good old rock and roll stomper that is 'Get Back'. Proof indeed that the Beatles were, above everything else, incredibly talented musicians. As a band, they must be considered as a one off.

Past Masters Volume II
And so we arrive at the final album in the original Beatles catalogue. The second singles/curios compilation. The track listing is virtually a greatest hits in itself: 'Day Tripper', 'We Can Work It Out', 'Paperback Writer', 'Rain'... 'Lady Madonna', erm, 'The Inner Light', a real Indian flavoured effort from George. Then back on track with 'Hey Jude', 'Revolution', 'Get Back' and 'Don't Let Me Down'. Personally, the most underrated single, 'The Ballad of John And Yoko', is one of the stand out tracks - recorded by John and Paul only (the others were on holidays or just unavailable at such short notice) it tells the story of John and Yoko's wedding and honeymoon adventure. The last song on the album is the suitably ridiculous 'You Know My Name (Look Up The Number)'. Ridiculous, but still sublime in it's own way.

That's it then. All the reasons you could possibly want to own the entire back catalogue of The Beatles. And if you want the story behind it all, get yourself the Beatles Anthology DVD series and the accompanying 3 double CD album set. Once you've done that, all other music is redundant...

Well, no it isn't, but it definitely puts it all into perspective.

A Rant

I just want to take a moment to complain about my local football club. Shrewsbury Town. Some may not have a clue who I mean, some will. In particular, I want to complain about the whole commercial operation and the way they have lost touch with reality.

I decided that this year, I would buy my eldest son the new home shirt for his birthday, maybe even get a name and number printed on it too. The kit was launched on 31st July at the club's open day, and I have no idea how many were on sale because before too long, the smaller sizes had sold out. Another shipment was due on the 20th August it was announced. So, today, just two days later, I rang the club to see if I could place an order to be picked up and paid for in person. No chance. I was informed by a simpleton on the other end that they still didn't have any of the smaller sizes in stock, and wouldn't until Saturday (if at all, he wasn't sure!). "Could I ring on Friday, they might know a bit more then?" Like a wally, I said yes. I should have said "No. Here's my number. YOU ring ME when they come in!"

This is merely the tip of the iceberg. The junior shirt is going to set me back £30. Yes, that's right, £30. Just for the shirt. Printing will cost more on top. I'm all for supporting my local club and encouraging my son to support his local team instead of chasing glory with the likes of Liverpool, Manchester United and City or Arsenal, but the bottom line is, I can walk into a branch of JJB Sports and get a whole kit - shirt, shorts and socks for £30. It's just crazy. Which brings me on to my next gripe. You can only buy the Shrewsbury kits from the club shop. Nowhere else. You would think that a small club would want to cast their net as wide as possible. In days gone by, you could go into Salopian Sports or Sports & Games in the town and get yourself a shirt. Not any more. I tell you, they've got Premier League ideas being implemented by Sunday League cretins.

Then we come to the match-day arrangements for fans. It's a 10,000 seater stadium on the outskirts of the town. They get average attendances of about 5,000 for a home game. But only parking for about 200 cars, and no arrangements for any parking elsewhere. You can pay a fiver to park in a pub car park just down the road, and that's about it. There used to be a park and ride facility from a number of places around the town, but apparently these weren't cost effective, so they were axed.

And if you want to go to a game, you have to make sure you know you want to go well in advance. Gone are the days when you could decide on a Saturday morning, or a Tuesday lunchtime to go to a game, give your mate a call and wander down to the Gay Meadow and pay on the gate. These days you have to buy a ticket. And before you do that, you have to register. Something my brother knows all to well!

But the worst thing of all is, I still keep supporting them and giving them my money because after all, they're in my blood.

Come. On. You. Blues.
Graham Turner's Barmy Army.