Is Shinsuke Nakamura the new Lubo Moravcik?

Even he is about to leave the nest & move all the way across the privet to next door, do you think keith dylan ginsberg kerouac beattie, would object if I added Shinsuke Nakamura to his name.

Over recent months I am sure there are babies all over Glasgow with all, or some, of this Japanese magician’s name there on their birth documents. Judging from his majestic free kicks as well as his other linking moves, I can understand why he has become the football fans’ favourite.

My own reasons for giving our last born this mouthful are a bit obvious, some would say it has something to do with a touch of eccentricity, although to be honest I personally don’t know what gives people that crazy idea.

Great Lost Albums of 60s & 70s

Pt 9

Even at my advanced age I still get surprised.

Today I managed to discover a new artist & album from back in the day. Gary Higgins ‘Red Hash’ is the best thing I have heard since Clive Palmer singing ‘Pretty Kerry’. Find it somehow, its one you should hear before you die.

I am not sure what the title refers to maybe some kind of corned beef stew?

I’ve Got Those Fleetwood Mac, Chicken Shack, John Mayall Cant Fail Blues Again!

Let’s see what else has slipped under the radar lately. It’s a case of what goes around, comes around. The whole blues thing was very much a part of my life during the late 60s early 70s. Been there done that! I cannot really listen to much of that material. There are exceptions to every rule however. As the following might suggest:

There were albums that did not set the world on fire at the time, but going back now & re-listening to them certainly brightens up my life.

Some of these artists have been thrown back at me by current djs….e.g. Gilles Peterson has reminded me of how great both David Axelrod, Harvey Mandell & Shuggie Otis were. I am listening to the latter’s ‘Here Comes Shuggie Otis’ as I write this @ 9.30 Sunday a.m. & Its pouring outside. Hold on & I will turn it up, way over ‘bat level’ for the ‘Happy Highlanders’ as one of them is going a little deaf with age. Ah that’s better.

The whole white blues thing from the states had some great artists, beginning with the Electric Flag & then the solo albums by Mike Bloomfield, Al Kooper…….etc..had that extra something that is difficult to describe. There was of course the part they played in the formation of the electric Dylan sound.

I heard one of Al Kooper’s recent cds & it was dire. However, I can still remember those tracks I had on my old Grundig, 4 track open reel recorder & how sweet they were. Unfortunately, a lot of this old vinyl stuff has stayed well below the radar unlikely to get re-issued on cd.

Scottish Baroque

Please excuse me while I go off on one again. Alright, I wont mention the remarkable co-incidence (or the half-remarkable question!) involving me starting Colin Harper’s book on Bert Jansch & his interview in this month’s ‘Wire’ magazine.

I am being driven in this direction by that whole psychedelic folk revival across the Atlantic. Recent concerts in Milngavie, where I saw John Renbourn onstage or in the audience, kept Bert Jansch in vogue. They were sparring partners for so long. At one of these concerts, I met Stuart, who recommended Colin Harper’s ‘Dazzling Stranger’ about Bert Jansch & the first British folk & blues boom.

This month’s ‘Wire’ also has a feature on Bert & I have recently re-listened to my Pentangle cds. I am reminded of the only time I saw Bert live & this was @ Bellshill library. An exceptionally intimate performance that convinced me of Bert’s greatness.

From the book, I discovered that Bert was tight with both Clive Palmer & Robin Williamson of the Incredible String Band. They all lived together in Edinburgh over a number of years.

I am enjoying the details about this post war beatnik lifestyle with all the Kerouac overtones, the sandals & beards & dufflecoats. Bert, Clive & Davy Graham for some strange reason found themselves in rather exotic parts of the world: North Africa, Afghanistan & other parts of the Middle East. This was to have a major influence on their lives & work.

Also this was to point the way for the next generation. What amazed me, as I was growing up, was that I felt that myself & my peers, were opening up new avenues of exploration. The naked truth was, that many of the above characters had already ‘been there, done that’.

Richard Skelton

As an avid ‘Wire’ reader, I am often intrigued by their range of articles. I was not aware of it but some recent acquisitions I have were by Richard Skelton (see ‘Wire’ Feb. 2007, p12) under his many aliases.

Personal tragedy, i.e. the death of his wife in 2004, has spurred the 33 year old to lose himself in the creative process & the results are spectacular. His releases on his own label: Sustain-Release (www.sustain-release.co.uk) come out under various monikers e.g. Broken Consort, Carousell, Harlassen or Heidika.

As librarians we cannot help classifying or giving a taxonomy to ‘things’ so I would have to peg Richard Skelton’s work in either a post rock or a folktronic genre. However his output doesn’t really fit comfortably into either bracket & each album fluctuates across a broad spectrum. I like to think of it as a kind of minimal drift ambience, but perhaps that’s just me being silly!

In recent times this voyage of discovery of all this new post rock…whatever new music has been a real labour of love. There is a wealth of real quality music around. Not the MTV & other media-led pap we are constantly exposed to, but deep under the surface if you choose to look you will find great treasures. I feel that this is a very worthwhile quest & I have spent a good, many hours searching & the rewards make it worthwhile.

Fab gear just discovered includes Mono, the band not the record shop, café, club, restaurant in King St, Glasgow & the self-titled cd by Det Gamla Landet.

Epitome of Cool

No I am not talking about Chet Baker, Steve McQueen or even Audrey Hepburn. I am thinking about a sad librarians Friday night that usually consists of viewing music programmes on bbc 4 (the only tv channel worth watching). I am seldom disappointed & often enlightened.

Last night’s documentary on J.J.Cale was exceptional. His songs have always been drifting around our house since way back when. That cool, smokey voice & laidback sound certainly fits in with my frame of mind.

He has been given a rebirth of sorts with Eric Clapton paying back some of his dues. Although he has recorded inferior versions of ‘After Midnite’ & ‘Cocaine’. Clapton’s sound around the time of ‘461 Ocean Boulevard’ owed so much to JJ. Early Dire Straights stole this sound too.

However watching JJ, I now realise that he had such a sensible anti-commercial stance throughout his life. He kept his whole musical life within his own grasp. He did own up to a rather colourful past (I mean who did not trip the light fantastic at that time).

A recent discovery for me has been David Munyon, who has strong elements of that Cale sound. I had ‘Song for Danko’, a recent release that I love & this week a copy of an album called CD3 was brought down from Aviemore.

Too much ping in the pong

Who thinks a librarians’ life is quiet?

Yesterday my mate ‘Caff’ appeared after perhaps a 2 year gap with an enquiry & I tried to source his needs. However he carries so much baggage & is so far ‘out there’ he wears me out. He talks so fast about everything & anything I found it difficult to focus. Its odd to recollect that his partner is so calm & teaches tai chi (she taught me at one point).

After this, perhaps it was due to this freaky visit, I got totally whitewashed at table-tennis. I mean, I consider myself a decent player, although I didn’t begin until I was almost 30 & working in the Mitchell Library. Later I was chosen to represent King Saud University College of Agriculture at the game. Although I have not played since grudge matches in Glenmore perhaps 15 years ago, I would have expected to have retained some skills. My colleague, Tommy gave me a quick lesson on how far I still have to travel. It was like playing Shane Warren. The ball was spinning embarrassingly & I totally failed to read any of his serves.

I had tried, & failed, to get someone to sort out how to stop 41 year old toilets from smelling. It reminds me of Batha or Harra in Riyadh or Mumbai on a bad day. I decided to bring stuff from home. Will this stop the pong? Watch this space. Do you remember Ping’s House on Dumbarton Road?

Russian Choir

Last weekend we had been told about a performance by a Russian Choir in St Aloysius church in Rose St, Glasgow. My friend, Leo had told me it started @ 4 p.m., so although I had to take my wife to another church later that evening, we thought we could do both.

Unfortunately, on our arrival in the church, Leo informed me that his rehearsal was @ 4 pm & the live gig was @ 5 pm. We sat for a while & Leo was wiring up the p.a. & his wife & son were walking around. A sudden commotion drew my attention to one of the side altars. An old woman had fallen, while searching for her mobile phone. Strangely enough Mr Saidenough, (what a name!) & myself both ran to lady’s rescue simultaneously & took an arm each to lift her up.

This reaction by both of us, spoke volumes about the fact, that although there may be slippage in full understandings between myself & Leo as far as language goes, but when it comes to the basic human communication & feelings & motives: we are both exactly the same.

Despite the woman’s peril (she was actually ok, just a little shocked by the fall), the fact that we both reacted in the same way, shows that we are brothers under the skin & both contain hearts that beat to the same rhythm. I have strong faith in God & I will not try to hide this fact & the incident I have just described convinces me that someone or something pushed that woman to the floor to ensure what happened next: did!

Anyway, we could not stay for the performance, hopefully we will get to another. Midweek, Leo brought in a cd cover (cd to follow) as he recorded the gig. I will look forward to it!

Taxonomy of Metadata



Well that all my days off from 2006 accounted for & I am back to the mundane world of work. Mind you I spent today at a workshop on Metadata & Taxonomy. Why does no-one ever speak English in this country anymore! Anyway the drive over the back roads to Stirling via Drymen, Buchlivie & Arnprior to Stirling is one of my favourites journeys in the world. It even surpasses the Kyber pass & that long road through the Troodos mountains in Cyprus, or the ricketty passage to Katmandu on the old wooden bus with heaving dysentery! Zooming at 60 mph with a tank fulla deisel, time in hand, strong winter sunshine beating down & reflecting off the tops of the surrounding mountains, Fila Brazilia tapes blaring in my ears & not a care in the world. Heaven.

Politics of Ecstasy

Enough of food already, time for some politics. Who wants to take holidays in January? I had to use them or lose them. There was too much work on over last summer.

My wife & I decided to drive towards Glasgow & leave the car at the Science Centre & get a healthy walk in the freezing cold air. As we drove past my birthplace, we were surrounded by heavy traffic & a heavy police presence. There was the launch of the world’s most advanced warship, the type 45 destroyer: HMS Dauntless. Hold on a minute. Is this not a weapon of mass destruction? I suppose we here in Scotland should be grateful, that this is keeping at least 2 shipyards alive on the Clyde?

I mentioned some of this to my neighbour who was standing outside the new BBC building. He had parked his car at Partick & watched the launch from the north side of the river & he was on his way to buy some tickets for the Celtic Connections festival. We also passed Louise Batchelor who was filming a link, on the riverside at sunset, about Ambulances for the evening news.

Lots of to-ing & fro-ing as my friend had just returned from Palestine with her 83 year old ma. Is Mrs Carmichael then the oldest living ‘terrorist’ in the world? She has to undergo humiliating body searches. Some of her escapades are mentioned below with kind permission from her daughter.

Well today my mother and I travelled to meet a dear friend

Well today my mother and I travelled to meet a dear friend of mine in Ramallah with 2 young daughters. We were held at the terminal for approx 2 hours, of course for security. The funny thing being although it was meant to be for security, the Israeli Army just stood around laughing and joking whilst holding all the buses up.

Eventually they came on and made us all get off the bus and stand in the pouring rain. A journey which should take approx half an hour took us three hours. So soaking wet and dripping we walked along to my friends with some toys for her children.

After visiting my dear friend, my mother was saying oh it will be wonderful to get back early for one night. No such luck for her. After receiving a phone call from a young boy whom I knew in Scotland and returned to Ramallah to live. He picked us up in his car and we headed to his home.

Such, such wonderful hospitality again. Eat, Drink, Eat Drink. We danced and joked the night away with such wonderful laughter. Every time I come to Palestine I am filled with such warmth from the people here.

Even not doing an activist role here, you can still see the oppression and humiliation that is heaped upon and upon the Palestinian people here. Queuing at checkpoints, having to pull their jumpers up, taking their shoes off. All in front of people.

If the Israeli Army do not like what they have, they simply take it from them and rip it up and throw it in their faces. This is all true. My mother is horrified and has not really seen anything yet. It is enough for her though. She no longer can look the Israeli Army in their eyes as she cannot understand how they can do this to another human being. Nor can I.

My mother and I visited our dear friends in Aza and Aida Refugee Camp today and once again force fed and watered.

Towards the end of the day we went back to Aida Camp for dinner and my mother was sitting quietly in her chair when all of a sudden BOOM, BOOM, BOOM and shots being fired. She jumped out of her chair with a look of horror in her eyes. What is that she asked, and of course the reply being 'Oh just the usual, you know. The soldiers are here in the Camp again'. My mother rested her head in her hands for a few minutes and asked out loud 'Why does the world not do something about this, this is wrong'.

We all looked at each other in silence, shaking our heads listening to the gunfire outside the house and streets.

An hour or so later, we had to make our way back to Al Quds to get our luggage in time for leaving tomorrow early morning. Still angry at what the Occupation is doing here, I asked an Israeli Soldier, a young girl what the shooting was. She replied 'Oh, it is the Palestinians playing with fireworks'. I told her she was talking rubbish, that we knew it was the soldiers and the whole world also knew. She turned and with a straight face said to my mother and I 'WE ARE THE GOOD GUYS, THEY ARE BAD.

She then walked away laughing. Make up your own mind, who the bad guys are.

Aida Camp still has no gas cylinders, the Israeli Army are not allowing them through the checkpoints etc. They have actually been cooking on bits of wood chopped up. I kid you not.

I am now going back to my hostel to get ready for my early morning trip to the Airport. VIP treatment once again. My mother is carefully packing everything away and I keep telling her not to bother because they will take it out for her.

A Kitchen Gurus Guide to Houmous or How the Chains Keep Us Dipping, Part 1 of a Two Part Trilogy

Let us begin by stating that costs are the prime movers in this adventure. You cannot beat a good value for money return. However as far as the rival dips go: e.g. taramasalata: Sainsburys wins hands down, no question- with their smoked salmon concoction. This, hands across the sea, mixture suits me personally, as I am half Greek, or is it half Scottish, on my mothers, or is it my fathers, side of the family. No matter, it rocks like the MC5.

Now, back to the hommos as we say in Arabic. No one seems to be capable of creating a decent rocket flavour, but Tesco do go all out to produce exotica. However, I would question their tactic of calling these apparent afterthoughts: toppings. This is in my opinion a cop-out, e.g. pesto or balsamic vinegar & red onion. Although I must admit that the latter is dynamite. Also when it comes to Lemon & Coriander houmous, Tesco are in a class of their own, everyone else is having a laugh.

Sainsburys is second to Tesco as far as quality goes, but the gap between is substantial. I have a new exotic product from Sainsburys in the fridge: avocado, but you have to be very fast in our house as believe me a shoal of hungry sharks would be in a long queue behind my sons.

Morrisons is by far the best when it comes to cheapness & Asda is not even at the races. They just provide an insipid selection because their competitors do so.

Outside the big chains: Roots & Fruits do a decent Rose version, this is their red pepper variety. However, I would hope that my boys & my work colleagues would agree that yours truly makes the best.

Alice Coltrane & Michael Brecker R.I.P



Wind, rain & death................2007 hasnt started very well ..

Smiling Men with Bad Reputations

Last night I returned to Milngavie’s Fraser Centre for a gig by Mike Heron. Considering he played Woodstock with the Incredible String Band, the low turnout in Milngavie might have puzzled him.

I have seen Robin Williamson with various line-ups & as a solo performer & I was under the misapprehension, that the ISB was mostly his creation. Last night convinced me otherwise.

Looking like the long lost twin of Lou Macari, who was badly in need of match fitness (that thickening of the middle section of our bodies happens to all of us alas!), he gave a memorable, high calibre, performance that flashed us all back to the day.

As usual at any of the related ISB gigs, everyone knows the words,(even if they are an lp side long!) & they all sing along.

My wife accompanied me this time & she was equally bowled over by this impish legend. He had the makings of a great sound with his daughter Georgia playing drums, keyboards & singing. Another guitarist was in tow & believe me, especially in the second set they were cooking & the sound was awesome. All the old songs were given a new life. I was not too impressed by the version of ‘The Greatest Friend I have in Life’, but perhaps that is because I play the old version myself, but the rest of the old material was hugely improved.

These gigs at the Fraser Centre in Milngavie are the best ever, the least publicised & the most intimate performances lets hope they continue.

The Devil & Daniel Johnston ( number 9………..)

More 4 showed the premiere of this documentary this week. I had heard of him before, naturally, but I was not aware of how damaged he had become. I have always been a fan of ‘Outsider Music & Art’ since my youth.

I was reminded of Wild Man Fisher, but I would have to admit there is a raw beauty & purity that shines through. I have bits & pieces on cd that I have listened to recently & I will re-visit these with greater insight.

His obsession with the Beatles & the no 9 was interesting. I also find numbers mystical & the same numbers have followed me throughout my life. Its always been 3s & 9s. Everywhere I have lived has these numbers in there. Even while I am typing this I had missed a track from a cd & I copied it somewhere else & naturally it was the 9^th track.

FM3 (number 9……….number 9…….)

Finally got my head around the 9 loops that live in my buddhamachine. I thought it only held one loop over the festive period, but an extensive bit of research online, pointed me in the right direction & I can now get lost in loopoland.

Very inconsiderate of our Chinese cousins not to have instructions in English, but perhaps this just adds to the mystique.

Isnt it odd the way freaky coincidences occur? In this post we have 9 loops in the fm3 & in the post that follows, we become aware of someone’s obsession with the Beatles No. 9.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=71y5CXgXg-I

The Focus Group in Belbury Poly

New Year, new attitude. How pleasant it was today walking down by my new place of work in July. I have a new mobile phone that houses an mp3 player, so I was listening to Belbury Poly & The Focus Group while I wandered through the building site. At least the rain had stayed off today for the first time since the start of November, 2006. I first heard of those 2 bands from an old ‘Wire’ feature. I was intrigued by the whole Ghost Box label & I recently acquired a selection of cds that are superb & the latest thing in my life.

I had to walk as it seems that my car might be passed its usefulness. Who needs a car anyway? Fortunately the high winds we have had in combination with the torrential rain had blown over the fences so that I could access the building site unchallenged. It was a bit disturbing from a security point of view to have spent a good hour wandering around without anyone else approaching me.

It was an emotional journey as I walked across the slipways that guided the big ships out of the yard. The ghosts of all those workers (including my father) weighed heavy on my shoulders, tears came & I picked up a ‘chuckie’ to take home to my garden in memory of those great feats.

On my return home, I had a quick lunch & then I borrowed my son’s bike for a cycle down the Forth & Clyde canal. The first dry day in such a long time & it felt so good to be outside & getting exercise. If I can only keep this up for the rest of the year???

The Imp of the Perverse

What is it with short people? Did Randy Newman call it right? I went along to watch yet another dismal performance by the Scottish Champions elect against Motherwell, on my father-in-law’s new, count the number of blades of grass at Parkhead, giant tv screen.

The big screen certainly didn’t improve the champions football, but I could make out Neil Lennon’s captains armband. However these days it is not on his arm for long. Was it only last week when it was tossed away with venom? It seems to be a handmade identifier, perhaps he made it his detention class back at school in Ireland. It is certainly not built to last 90 minutes.

He kept it on yesterday, but the big screen captured his manager’s reaction to Motherwell’s 93^rd minute equaliser. Strachan showed all his footballing skills as he demolished the subs board. As he answered gruelling, piercing questions after the match, he slipped once more into his increasingly psychedelic phrasebook. Gosh! he is so ‘out there’. The last interview I saw, he kept chewing & filling his gob with, whatever: caramels, acid, who knows, but you couldn’t make out a word. Maybe this was the idea. Scotland has produced these urban, mystic, heroes of football management theory in abundance. They insist that their players do their talking for them on the pitch, but without question, Gordon Strachan has carved out a niche for himself as the glorious games answer to Timothy Leary.

Now I have realised what I love about the whole Scottish football scene. It is not the quality of the football. Sadly I might have to agree with those who state, that the English Premier league contains more quality. However, we have all the fantastic drama that surrounds the game. The wireless is where it’s at. Pre & post match phone ins, etc are chock full of real people with real opinion & many of these opinions are frankly, Mr Shankly, downright scary. This is an area so richly full of urban life in the Scottish homeland, if only we had such fervent views on independence.

Plenty of Rain & not enough Bows

Am I sad enough to get sucked into that end of Gregorian year stuff. Reminds me of all the Millennium silliness, when people thought the mere passing of a random Gregorian date would bring cataclysmic changes! Well as a matter of fact as an avid ‘Wire’ reader, I do look forward to see what is breaking new boundaries over the year. I have compiled a very personal, eclectic, eccentric & electric list of my firm favourites over the past year.

Here goes. As always any comments welcome.

Sufjan Stevens was way up there with all of his output. In fact only this week we have been listening to his xmas songs & singing along.

Astrid Gilberto always puts a smile on my face. I finally got a copy of Alexander ‘skip’ Spence’s ‘Oar’ & The Poets ‘Scotlands No 1 Group. Pure genius!

Mostly this was a year of catching up with many of the albums I have/had on vinyl & obtaining them in the digital format.

Recent Additions	to the Catalogue
bread, love & dreams	strange tale of captain shannon
chicago	chicago transit authority
ayers, kevin	joy of a toy
ayers, kevin	whatevershebringswesing
walker, scott	1
walker, scott	2
if	1
moby grape	s/t (1967)
guthrie, arlo	running down the road (1969)
spence, alexander 'skip'	oar (1969)
it’s a beautiful day	white bird (1969)
broughton, edgar	wasa wasa (1969)
comus	first utterance
comus	keep from crying
yester, jerry & henske, judy	farewell alderbaran
walker, scott	4 (1969)
havens, richie	richard p havens 1983 (1969)
united states of america	s/t w/bonus trks
beatles	love (2006)
komeda, krzysztof	fearless vampire slayers' (ost)
family	fearless
family	entertainment
family	music in a dolls house
trees	on the shore
trees	garden of jane delawney
tontos expanding headband	zero time
tyrannosaurus rex	my people were fair
various	bumpers
various	vertigo annual 1970
cale, john	paris 1919
ayers, kevin	shooting at the moon
ayers, kevin	confessions of dr dream
kaleidoscope (uk)	tangerine dream
fahey, john	legend of blind joe death
cressida	asylum (vertigo)
tasavallan presidenti	lambertland (1972)
quintessence	dive deep
palmer, bruce	cycle is complete
astatke, mulatu	afro latin soul
tyrannosaurus rex	unicorn
quintessence	in blissful company
harrison, george (RIP)	wonderwall
affinity	s/t
moby grape	wow

Another freezing Saturday night at the Fraser Centre

Déjà vu, park the car at Tesco, Milngavie & then walk through the tunnel into the greatest little venue on the planet. This past year has been illuminated not by all those naff seasonal outdoor lights, but by the real deal, honest, personal & intimate gigs by the best folk artists around.

Last night was no exception as Rab Noakes lit up a bleak, wintry night by giving a superb solo performance at the Fraser Centre, Milngavie. I was glad it was solo, no disrespect to Fraser Speirs, but I concur with one of the bands on the Pork Label (Funky Porcini? Or Heights of Abraham?) who recorded, ‘Harmonicas are Shite’. I have lived through the blues boom & I have had enough acoustic guitar & harmonica duos to last a lifetime.

The happy highlanders had hinted that there would be a bit of R & B, soul & tamla, but there was also a killer version of Beck’s ‘Devil’s Haircut’ & an Everley Bros finale.

Also you meet such fine people at these gigs. I was chatting with someone I met about crazy nights at the Maryland, Glasgow in the early 70s & the fact that the early vibrant folk scene in Scotland has not really been recorded in the printed form.

Trying to find out about these gigs is such a challenging task itself, even for a librarian. I am annoyed & having missed Robin Williamson last month, but I am determined to try & get to Mike Heron’s performance sometime in the New Year.

Seize the Power

If I can quote the ‘Wire’ nov 06 article on Lasse Marhaug……….’With its exceptionally high living standards, bounteous welfare state, plentiful arts funding……Norway famously tops the UNs ‘quality of life index’…..oil money..’

Meanwhile we live in a 3^rd world country ravaged by poverty, unemployment, drugs, violence, a failing welfare state, with hospital & school closure, pensioners barely scraping a living………etc.

Tony Blair & the other terrorists decide (no surprise here) to upgrade Trident & site the weapons of mass destruction where?

There is enough radioactive material inside foreign diplomats roaming around London to easily build a ‘dirty bomb’.

I feel that I have missed something? Are the Scottish people so stupid that they don’t see it, or are we such a downtrodden nation, that we just accept this.