Shivers Inside | PART 50 Hurrah! - Way Ahead - LP |
Once upon a time I was accused of disappearing into my world of books and films where darkness came too soon. Total nonsense of course. There was music too. But the suggestion was that I was missing out. Total nonsense too. Products have so much to teach us. So many stories to tell … |
Yeah, well, it has been a strange couple of weeks. Too much time on my hands. Too much time to think. Dangerous. A dangerous luxury. Don't Look Back. The Remains. Great song. Great film. Great advice. Old wounds. Old books. Old films. Old songs. The Ramones. You Should Never Have Opened That Door. Quite. Been watching those Smiley DVDs. Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. Smiley's People. Dangerous luxuries those. Fatal. Fantastic though. They don't make them like that anymore. All that jazz. So much to savour. Sip. Guinness. George. Smiley. Smiley's People. Actually losing his temper. Vladimir's dead. I used to insist people called ME Vladimir. That's a different story. George challenges Lacon. George is told we adapt. That we are not keepers of some sacred flame. Lost cause? George snaps. A little later. On Hampstead Heath. The TV adaptation missed this. But it's in the book. I'm sure. Graffiti. Something about society not needing punk because it's destructive. But George contends that oh society does, for society is an association of minorities. Remember that line? "There's one thing we've known right from the start. Deep down inside we're all punk rockers at heart". Brave words. Important to us then. We really were a minority. Those words. That song. Tattooed on my heart. Where does that line come from? Richard Hell and the Voidoids? Ah we all loved Richard Hell. There was a great story about Beattie. When he was at school. Teachers took pity on him. Because of the ripped and torn school shirts. What did they know? Beattie. Where is he now? I can remember the first time I saw Primal Scream play London. They looked so fantastic. Suede jackets. Black polo necks. It was the same week as that Hurrah! show at the Embassy Club. Roughly. The one on that record. The one you should never have sent me burned on CD. Like they say, you can never go home anymore. I had to laugh listening to it. "Who could be so brave to throw this winning hand away?" Words take on new meanings. It's very Smiley, but did they do it on purpose? I hadn't thought of that before. Lost causes. Yeah. A different world. As strange as Smiley's. Pop wars. Cold wars. What was it all about? What were we all fighting for? The right to be unsure? The right to fail? The right to stumble? A war on certainty? Karla's or U2's? |
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I forgot to ask if you've watched the DVDs yourself? You should. It's not giving anything away, but Smiley wins out in the end. What does winning look like? Listening again to Hurrah! Well, they won didn't they? They were way ahead. They were the way ahead. It really was like this. It was this good. Long shot pomes from broke players. There's no success like failure. What made it so special? I dunno. Nor did they. They could pack a punch. That worked. What else? Unique balances I guess. A little bit The Fall. A little bit beat. Think Ready Steady Go! The weekend starts here. Friday evening. The Searchers. Or something. Guitars strapped way up here. Pug ugly so-and-sos. But with the voices of angels. Close harmonies. Intricate and raw. Easily bruised. Not like the girls in the crowd. Self-contained. The girls. Coal black eyes. Flick fringes back. Bobs. Weaves. Smiling secretly. Shuffling feet. Waiting for some soul. Waiting for a change. Waiting for a change? Who said that? Micheal Jayston? He made a fantastic Peter Guillam, loyal to Smiley. The casting was spot on throughout. George. Guinness. Echoes of Ealing. The Ladykillers. The Lavender Hill Mob. The Man In The White Suit. Has anyone ever said as much by saying so little? Speaking of actors and films. The drummer. Damien. The actor. Jean-Pierre Leaud. Ever seen them together in the same place? I rest my case. A drummer's poise. An actor's possession. Masculin Feminin. La Chinoise. And so on. Our Damien. The Omen. It was ominous when Damien disappeared. Things were never the same. Imbalance. The jazz jettisoned. The folk forgotten. No space. Yet with the right producer? Hurrah! Salt of the earth. Likely lads. True Terry Colliers. Animals. Alan Price. Star of Don't Look Back. Goofing around. Scuffed. Messy beat angels. On top of their game. Like Smiley. Smiley as hunter, recluse, lover, solitary man in search of completion, shrewd player of the great game, avenger, doubter, in search of reassurance. Some things just stick in the mind. But scared to get happy? Nah. They just took their pleasures seriously. Like Wilko. Psychotic stare. Standing there. Intense. Threatening. Ironically people opted for label mates Prefab Sprout and their adult literacy. Student staples. When it could have been Hurrah! Untamed and untrammelled. Spirituals. Giving their all. "Trust in us". Oh we did. We did indeed. And yet. Yes, punk is destructive. But it could have gone so right. Arista and on and on. The Monkees and Patti Smith. Oh Gil Norton. So much to answer for. The Pixies. I rest my case. |
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The case for the defence? Frames of reference? So important then. For a minority. Punk rock. Folk rock. The Byrds and Love. The Lovin' Spoonful and the Velvets. The Kinks and The Action. The Ramones and Richard Hell. The Clash and Buzzcocks. Dexys and The Jam. That success and strangeness. Josef K and the Fire Engines. Subway Sect and the Saints. And soul. Oh yes. Soul certainly. Kent Records and Harboro Horace. Patrice Holloway and Maxine Brown. Curtis Mayfield and the O'Jays. Lipstick Traces and Love Train. There'd never been a better time to be a young boy. Pleasure heads burn. How could we give so much away? Only a pint and a Dodo to keep you going. Cheap to keep. Comfort kills. The next night. The Jasmine Minks playing at The Room At The Top. Dan Dan the TVP Man. His gaffe. Any chance of playing a few songs, they asked. Any chance of a few mates of ours playing a few songs? Marked reluctance. A cruel trick. Dan was always a big Hurrah! man. Was on his way to see them at the Rock Garden in '83 when he was set upon. On a bus heading up west. You could be in those days. For looking like a mod. Hardly time to discuss the finer points of the beat generation and the angry young men when confronted by 20-hole Doc Martens. I was just thining of that photo of Subway Sect. 1977. In Zigzag. The Steve Walsh piece. The photo with it. Vic, Rob and Paul. '60s cast offs. Three-button hand-me-downs. Why are you all wearing red Fred Perry jumpers? We couldn't get green ones. Brilliant. That Subway Sect. The irritant factor. Fenders. Jaguar and Mustang. Exotic like the cars. Something in red. Something inside. Shivers. "Better watch your heads." It's funny. I can listen to this record again now. Is it part of a healing process? Time to say we were right? That it doesn't matter what happened to us? Why worry about what might have been? This was special. Full stop. No no no they can't take that away from me. Like the old jazz standard. I've been listening to a lot of jazz lately. I guess that's all I want now. I've shared my secrets. Time to bury all this. Time to disappear. With my books and films. And my jazz. That'll do me. © 2007 John Carney |