Danceability Parts I & 2

I was browsing through some music blogs on t'internet the other night, and I was surprised to learn that Aberdeen's APB have not only reformed, but also released a new album.

We lived in Aberdeen from 1992 (that year again!) until 1994 and for part of that period I took a shitty part-time job at Cafe Drummond in Belmont Street. Drummonds was renowned at that time for a number of things which we won't go into here, but most memorably for being an evening venue for live acts. The guy booking the acts was former APB frontman, Iain Slater.

All the "regulars" (it was a bit like "Cheers", except deeply unfunny) used to bang on about APB and how they pined for the glory days again. I had never heard of them - blissfully unaware that they'd been releasing records for most of the 1980s, had quite a following in America and had appeared on the same bill as James Brown and The Clash in their time. Impressive stuff. I really haven't heard many of their songs, but from what I have heard they seemed part-punky, part-soul, part-scratchy-guitar funk - they remind me of the (supposedly) classic Postcard-era Orange Juice. Not really my thing, I suppose.

At the time when I knew Iain, he was performing in Loveless alongside his ex-APB colleague, Glenn Roberts. Glenn was a really nice guy who had an equally nice girlfriend called Glenda - yeah, the source of much mirth, Glenn and Glenda.

Loveless regularly took the "stage" at Drummonds themselves, and I really enjoyed them. During this period, I used to run a Sunday night club round the corner at The Hotbox above The Tappit Hen (the assistant manager of this venue was ex-APB percussionist, Mikey Craighead). They had seen the posters and flyers I created (no PC back then, just cut, paste and Letraset!) so they asked me to come up with some ideas for a sleeve for a 7" EP they were going to release (tracks were, "Fields of Yellow"/"Low Down Sneak"/"Big Fat Cow"/"Hypocrite", fact fans). They didn't use any of the designs in the end - probably just as well, because my designs were a bit shite really.

Eventually, I left Drummonds. I had had enough of the ultra-cliquey staff members, and the succession of hugely ineffective managers (if only I knew then what I know now!), so I didn't really see much of Iain after that - shame really, he was one of the very few good guys.

One glorious summer's day in 1997, I decided to "hop" on a bus to Aberdeen. The four-hour journey from Edinburgh to Aberdeen is a piece of piss really when you get used to it. When I got there around midday, the place was shrouded in mist and it felt a good ten degrees cooler - typical Aberdeen. I decided to do a wee tour of my old haunts - I was quite underwhelmed. Maybe it just seemed better at the time - rose-tinted glasses and all that.

I went to have a look at the flat we rented in Union Grove. It was now derelict and ready for demolition. We moved in there in 1993 - the rent was dirt cheap - mainly because the flat, and surrounding properties suffered terribly from damp and were badly subsiding. If you looked at the building from the street, you could clearly see it leaning backwards at an angle. Feeling the journey had been a complete waste of time, money and weather (if that makes sense?), I decided to "hop" back on the bus to Edinburgh just a couple of hours later. I've never been back.

[Post script : I also became acquainted with former Shamen members, Keith and Derek McKenzie. Again, they were really nice blokes - Keith worked in an Aberdeen department store at the time, and Derek actually lived and worked in Edinburgh, but visited Aberdeen frequently. They were both a good laugh on a night out.]

APB - MySpace
APB - Website

I think I'll get my hair cut.

That "Ragtime" picture below got me thinking about how much I used to enjoy the god-like telly genius of Fred Harris when I was wee. "Play School" was at its best was he was on it and I used to love that great big calculator he had on ITV's "Make It Count" - I always fancied one of those for myself.

When Jona Lewie came along in the early '80s, I always used to think it was Fred Harris going under a different name (just you try telling the difference!).

Now, if Fred Harris is god-like, where does that leave the one-man entertainment centre that was Derek Griffiths?

I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier.

Did anybody see "David Icke - Was He Right?" last night on (channel) five? It was very interesting stuff.

In the early 1990s when BBC TV sports presenter, David Icke suddenly announced he was the son of a godhead and set about predicting Armageddon, the British public thought he had gone mad. Certainly, he did seem to have become quite peculiar all of a sudden, so in many ways, the public's reaction seemed understandable, but seeing the clips of the famous "Wogan" interview again, where the normally convivial Irishman and his studio audience are clearly laughing at Icke, made for quite uncomfortable viewing (see some of it here).

Of course, we got to see some of Icke's predictions for disaster which seem to have become eerily true (9/11, tsunami, earthquakes etc); that kind of Nostradamus thing always puts the shits up people.

I'm not saying that all of a sudden, I've had a complete change of heart about Icke, but I do feel that having the opportunity to listen to him talk openly was refreshing. The scene where he was approached by the police as he and his wife filmed around Westminster was fascinating. Icke refused to stop what he was doing because, as he argued, CCTV operators were filming everything that he, and everybody else, were doing - they could clearly see what he was "up to". This was a compelling scene - very reminiscent of Michael Moore. The police eventually gave up, but not before dismissing Icke as being "clearly upset" - patronising bastards.

The big thing about Icke that most people will remember from the early '90s (other than the turquoise shellsuit) was that he claimed those running the world (The Illuminati) were connected via reptilian bloodlines. Hmmmm... as far as I'm concerned that's probably the thing I'm least convinced about (maybe that's because it always makes me think of "V" - shallow fool that I am).

Last night's documentary made for absolutely riveting television, and Icke came across as a very intelligent man. His theories might not convince everyone, but at least he's got the balls to get up and talk about them. Perhaps it's dangerous to dismiss him so completely out of hand.

Whichever way you cut it, David Icke is a fascinating man.

[Post script : Looking at that 1983 BBC "Breakfast Time" photo, I am reminded that my Uncle Rab used to stay next door to Nick Ross in the 1980s, and that I once met Frank Bough (nothing involving "Kinky Sex and Cocaine Sniffing", mind you!).]

Magic, magic 'e'...

The relentless succession of "I Love {this}", "Top 10 {that}" and "Top 100 {the other}" nostalgia shows on the telly seems to have subsided at long last.

In some ways I quite liked them because I'd get to see all sorts of things I hadn't seen for 20+ years, but in the end, seeing the same old talking heads, talking about the same old shows, illustrated with the same old clips, just became tedious in the extreme.

How many more times would we have to hear the opinions of Paul Morley, David Quantick, Miranda Sawyer, Gina Yoshere, Venon fucking Kay, Jackie Clune and that-bird-who-looks-and-talks-like-she's-5-who-used-to-edit-Smash-Hits as they bang on endlessly about the clip of "Bagpuss" (shite), "Roobarb" (great) , Den serving Angie with the divorce papers at Christmas (don't care), et-fucking-cetera as though they are recalling it from childhood even though it's obvious they've just been shown it just a few moments before? (Why do they also always say that something was great/rubbish/wrong on "so many levels"? Talk fucking sense).

Anyway, those days appear to be over. Maybe in 2020, we'll be watching shows like "I Love 'I Love the 1970s'" - being nostalgic about nostalgia. That's exactly what happens when people go on about how great Showaddywaddy, Racey and Alvin Stardust were - they were '50s revivalists living in the '70s. Just because things like this happened in the 1970s and '80s, it doesn't necessarily mean they were great.

There are some programmes from that era that most of these shows seemed to overlook. I'd love to see things like "Mr Trimble", "Hickory House" (incorporating that animated Granada ident at the start and featuring Alan 'David Barlow'/'Picturebox'/'Brookside-junkie' Rothwell, Amanda 'Alma' Barrie and that Louise one who was also on BBC's "Watch"), "Ragtime" (didn't they have an Asian character called "Mr Curry"? Oh dear), "The Tomorrow People", "Graham's Gang", "Murphy's Mob", "Noah and Nelly" (all aboard the Skylark!) and "Pardon My Genie" - preferably in their entirety without commentary and talking heads. Fat fucking chance. Of course, many of these series appear on DVD now, but there's a limit to what I'll spend my money on!

Frank Muir's "TV Heaven" (Channel Four, 1992) had the right idea - a full evening's worth of programmes from a particular year, with loads of extras like adverts and opening sequences from the era. Although I think there might have been the odd error now and again (the 1968 night, for example, contained the classic 1970's titles for "Magpie" instead of the black and white mk1 titles), but on the whole, the series was very well researched and exquisitely put together. There's not much scope for that kind of scheduling these days (oops, sorry - do I sound nostalgic for 1992?), at least not on any of the five main channels... plus, Frank Muir is, sadly, dead.

Still, there's always Dennis Norden!

Island of lost souls.

Sorry I've been a bit quiet for the last wee while - lots of work on at the minute, taking up loads of time and energy. Anyway, to get things moving again, why not take a look at this wee conundrum...

From the pictures, can you work out what comedian I'm thinking of ?

Good luck !

1.



















2.



















3.



















4.

Get gobby.

Look at this 1973 "Look-in" cover I discovered.



That wanker Vernon Kay has just been around forever. Knob !

Though blue eyes of children, they shine without fear...

...hope is the future, with oceans of cheer.

Buying records and CDs was, and still is, one of my biggest passions. These days, however, it's rare for me to spend money on such frivolities (it's funny how having kids changes things - yeah, blame the poor kids !). It's not because I've lost interest, or that I'll be an old bastard when I turn 36 in August, or anything like that - it's just that I can't be as daft with my money as I used to be.

"Back in the day", being such a keen collector usually meant that I was almost always completely broke - I always spent what money I had (and a lot that I didn't) on vinyl and CDs in places like Sleeves in Kirkcaldy and Vinyl Villains in Edinburgh.

For my absolute favourite bands, I would fork out hand over fist just to make sure I got every track, as well as every single mix of every single track - so, '80s bands like The Cure, The Mission, The Cult and so on, whose record companies knew how to exploit obsessive fans, must have seen me coming a mile off. Of course it didn't stop in the 1990s and even although I've amassed a load of records which are worth a fair bit of money to collectors, I know I'll never sell them.

In the 1980s, I used to spend hours on end making extended-extended mixes of tracks I liked. With a turntable and a trusty cassette recorder, I would gather as many different versions of a track together and cobble them, sections here, sections there, into one great long remix. I have to say that many of these remixes were great - it was all in the timing, and a lightning reflex with the pause button meant that the joins were often seamless. Some of these homemade remixes often had outrageous running times, occasionally taking up an entire side of a C90 (that's 45 minutes to you young folks !).

A wee while back, I found a great blog featuring the modern-day equivalent. Dreamtimemix brings together many versions of a track and weaves them into truly outstanding remixes. I would heartily recommend a visit. My recent favourites have been the remixes of Siouxsie's "Dazzle" and the numerous Frankie Goes To Hollywood mixes (especially "Rage Hard"). There's quite a substantial archive of mixes which have recently been pulled together into zipped files for download.

Check it out - it's fucking amazing - make sure you leave comments !

What have I become, my sweetest friend?

Only 42 days to go until the clocks go forward again.


Yep - I'm still counting down - S.A.D. bastard that I am!

When is a good deal not a good deal on car insurance?

FUCK!!!

If I hear that fucking phrase just one more time, I may not be held accountable for my actions.

Also, can anyone tell me why Confused.com is called Confused.com? Surely the idea is that if you're really confused about all the different car insurance deals out there, then they're meant to be the guys you should go to so that you're not confused anymore. Or am I just being fucking stupid?

And as for that Nadine fucking Baggott - she can shove her pentapeptides right up her big, fat, sweaty arse. Fuckin' freak.

The last beat of my heart...

This week, I have been mostly thinking about Siouxsie and the Banshees. I went to see them with my schoolmates, Jonny and Robin, at the Edinburgh Playhouse. It was December 1988, we were 17 and I was well and truly blown away.

The set opened with "The Last Beat Of My Heart" and it was just beautiful. They played a shitload of stuff and seemed to go on forever. 1988's "Peepshow" was probably my favourite Banshees album - "Peek-a-boo", "Rhapsody", "The Last Beat Of My Heart" and "Burn Up" being my favourite tracks.

I've been reliving many of the old Siouxsie sounds over the past few days (just where have the last 27-odd years of my life gone ?). "Israel", "Dear Prudence" "Candyman", "Cities Of Dust", "Kiss Them For Me", "Spellbound"... even the song titles send shivers done my spine and bring a tear to my eye.

"The Last Beat Of My Heart" is simply exquisite - the faint accordion and soft beating drum just gets me everytime.

In the sharp gust of love
My memory stirred
When time wreathed a rose
A garland of shame
It's thorn my only delight
War-torn, afraid to speak
We dare to breathe

Majestic
Imperial
A bridge of sighs
Solitude sails in a wave of forgiveness
On angels' wings

Reach out your hands
Don't turn your back
Don't walk away

How in the world
Can I wish for this?
Never to be torn apart
Close to you
'Til the last beat

Of my heart

At the close of day
The sunset cloaks
These words in shadowplay
Here and now, long and loud
My heart cries out
And the naked bone of an echo says "Don't walk away"

Reach out your hands
I'm just a step away

How in the world
Can I wish for this?
Never to be torn apart
Close to you
'Til the last beat
Of my heart

How in the world
Can I wish for this?
Never to be torn apart
'Til the last beat
'Til the last fleeting beat

Of my heart

I want that to be the last song I ever hear. I miss the Banshees.

Gather all your worldly jewels and scatter them like fools...

I've started a new Blog of short stories (well, just one short story at present) called Runners Dial Zero. Why not have a look ?

Mind and let me know what you think.

Phew - I'd give that ten minutes if I were you !

Ahhhh. There's nothing quite like a good old clearout.

For too long now, I've been keeping all my old Avenues and Alleyways posts on the front page. I've always been keen for new visitors to read all my witty insights simply by scrolling downwards rather than trawling through the archives, but the downside was that the page simply took far too long to load up. Perhaps I've just been a wee bit too precious up until now.

So, if you're new to this Blog, I hope you enjoy your stay - please take some time to browse through the archives listed on the left-hand side, and tell yer mates. Oh, and please leave comments - it makes me feel like it was worth all the effort.

Sky x.

Topside of beef is down 80 pence...

By the mid-1980s, our beloved Fine Fare had morphed into (prototype-Somerfield) Gateway. Sad times indeed.

Have a wee keek at this monstrosity (three YouTube embeds on the trot ? What a lazy fucker I truly am !) - it's interesting for a couple of reasons.

Firstly, it features an early apperarance of Bing Hiltler's sister, Lynn Ferguson (seen most-recently as a crazy Glaswegian radge in Channel Four's "No Angels"), and secondly (and in my opinion, more significantly), Sue Devaney who has clearly fallen on hard times after relinquishing the role of Kevin Webster's sister (and Bill Webster's daughter), Debbie, in "Coronation Street". Oh the fucking indignity of it all - I know which role I'd rather have !




Eyes down, look in... your comments, please.