SLADE ALIVE in London 1975

When I downloaded my emails tonight I found a few from the SLADE wires. Most were about the next batch of re-mastered re-issues due in June, but imagine my joy when one message spoke of a lost live album from 1975 and included a link to the site to download it.

I'm listening to it now, it's excellent quality and some of the songs haven't been released as live at all, let alone from this gig. And it's great hearing Noddy talk about 'the next single' and 'the recent film'. It was recorded at the New Victoria Theatre in London on 24 April 1975.

I wonder what else is in the archives that no-one really knows about?

On The Town

The latest theatrical trip was to see the English National Opera's revival of 'On The Town' at The Coliseum. You know the story - three young sailors on shore leave in New York for 24 hours in search of fun and laughter and instead they all find love, of differing varieties, or at least they all get their girls.

What I hadn't quite factored in was that since this was the ENO then there'd be a load of operatic voices and I'd forgotten about the ballet/modern dance bits, neither of which are particular favourites. There was a large cast, the stage full of people in meticulous but often dull costumes, and there wasn't much by way of scenery, mainly metal girders in different forms. On that large stage I was expecting colour to burst out at us as the sailors explore New York but it was mainly quite muted and gray. I'm not entirely sure what the production was trying to say about New York.

It was a event of highs and lows for me, with the energy and dash of the stage full of people during 'New York New York, it's a helluva town' and the quite gentle 'Lucky To Be Me' and the lows were the ballet bits. Enough said.

It was great to see June Whitfield, marvelously playing her role in an understated and controlled way, tossing off her quips with perfect timing, a proper actress rather than a singer or dancer.


There are only 20 shows in this run (not sure why there are so few). I'm pleased I've seen it but I won't be hoping to go back again.

Marc Bolan

I'm thoroughly enjoying reading the biography of Marc by Mark Paytress and listening to the T.Rex boxset which includes some amazing songs I haven't heard before. From 'Hippy Gumbo' to the '20th Century Boy', Marc was a force of nature.

I'll probably launch a blog about Marc on an unsuspecting world when I finish the book but I wanted to mention a text I received today when I mentioned I was listening to the boxset to Chris. His text reads:

"Can you hear him tossing his curls and going YE-AH?"

I laughed and replied YES!

I'm up to 'Hot Love' in 1971 in the book (my first T.Rex single) when Marc was still inventing T.Rex and all that was to follow so I've a long way to go!

Marc was many things in his too-short life but, actually, seeing him on Top Of The Pops in 1972 in his satins and glitter and glory, tossing his corkscrew hair and being the rock god he always was (and always will be) is a glorious part of his mystique. And I love hearing Marc saying 'YE-AH'!

Side By Side By Sondheim

This evening's entertainment was viewed at The Venue, off Leicester Square, former home to Boy George's 'Taboo', along with Chris and Angela (I last saw Angela when we went to see 'Follies' in Clapham, another Sondheim show). I didn't know anything about 'Side by Side by Sondheim' other than it's a collection of his songs from his various shows, a sort of 'greatest hits' cast as a theatrical revue. Two pianists, two women singers, one male singer and a narrator and that's the show. A few lights and a few props, but basically it's just them singing and acting the songs.

Sondheim's work can stand on it's own merits but a show like this will stand or fall based on the singers and we were luckily to have three excellent performers in excellent voice. Alasdair Harvey, Abbie Osmon and Josie Walker were excellent. That's three 'excellents' in two sentences so I must've liked 'em.

Particular praise goes to Josie Walker (and not just cos she kept looking at me and half-smiling) who has an amazingly expressive and versatile voice, both in serious songs and in the more comic ditties. We were sitting in the front row so had a great view and during 'Send In The Clowns' it was an odd feeling watching Josie singing with tears running down her cheeks. Earlier on she'd spat out words at an incredibly fast rate during the comic 'Getting Married Today' and put on a great 'north western' accent for the homage to 'The Boy From...'. A very versatile voice, great with accents, whether it's from Noo Yoik or Manchester and, of course, a great singing voice. I'd like to hear more from her.

Abbie's highlight for me was 'Losing My Mind' which I can't hear without hearing Liza Minnelli. Because of that, the song wasn't working for me, I thought of when I saw it sung in the pocket sized version of 'Follies' and then suddenly Abbie seemed to turn up the power, faced the audience full on for the first time and I 'got' it. It transformed from a song about pain to pain itself and I was transfixed.

Alasdair also deserves praise for his voice and acting. Reading the programme he seems to have been in lots of telly programmes and sung with loads of orchestras and ensembles. The highlight for me was the anger and hurt of 'Could I Leave You' which was quite raw and wounding. The almost viciousness of the lyric wasn't quite spat out but it was close. It probably wasn't the best song to show off his voice but he'd already done that in numerous songs so it was time to pile on some acting.

I enjoyed it. Sondheim's songs are very wordy and sometimes they seem very knowing, almost too knowing, but this is a good collection of his songs. I'd like a cast recording with this cast - they deserve it - but I doubt it'll happen. The show is only on for 12 weeks or something so I was surprised it wasn't full. It might be interesting to go again.

The Sugar Trolls and the Bopping Elf

The Sugar Trolls are alive and well and living in me. I don’t know if they excrete sugar or mine it somewhere and use me to store it, a walking safe if you will, but I’m full of the damn stuff. So, my big task in this, my first week off work this year, is to try to get it under control. The weather’s been lovely so far this week, lovely and warm with blue sky and sun beating down, shorts and sandals weather. This morning is a bit different though, cooler and white, cloudy sky.

I peaked on Tuesday when my sugar reading was at 15 (whatevers) when it should’ve been at about 6. So I went out for a walk round Tooting Common. It’s a very large area of greenery with lots of different areas, some areas with grass mown short for sport, a colourful lido, a small lake and smaller ponds, children's play area and tennis courts, other areas where everything grows reasonably wild and a couple of ‘nature reserve’ areas. It was nice to see in one of the natural areas that it’s being actively managed, with a small area being ‘dead fenced’ to protect some spring flowers – I couldn’t see any plants that looked out of the ordinary so perhaps they’ve already died back. I did find a nice clump of hawthorne trees, though, all knarled and ancient looking and covered in blossom, both the clean white blossom and the red/pink/purple variety like the old one in my garden. Hawthorne usually has white blossom and I’ve never understood why mine has red, so it was nice to see them blooming side by side on the Common.

Even after walking for nearly one and a half hours, my sugar level was still too high. I don’t understand my body sometimes. So off I went to the gym for the first time in ages. The first thing I did was weigh myself and was relieved to see that I hadn’t put on as much weight as I thought I had – I’ve become bigger rather than heavier, so that’s something. My gym has converted from a Holmes Place to a Virgin Active and this was my first visit since the big change. What big change? It still hasn’t happened. The ground floor has been painted an odd sort of orange and there are some carpet tiles on the ground and first floors, but that seems to be it. A few new exercise machines in one gym and the layout changed in another. Apparently the big change will happen over May. Oh, the other change is a sign in the changing room saying ‘no paparazzi – don’t take photos with camera-phones’ which is rather odd!

Yesterday I had an MRI scan at Chelsea and Westminster Hospital to see what the discs and soft-tissues in my lower spine are up to. You've got to remove everything that might accidentally interfere with the machine or fall off and break it so I very gingerly removed by last 'blessing' from around my right wrist, the first time it's been off in almost exactly 7 years (since 22 May 2000 to be precise). I don't think it has long to last with the silk threads worn very thin and getting to 'snap' consistency in one place. I'm not sure I could get it back on without snapping it so I'm still naked-wristed. It feels slightly strange.

The appointment wasn’t until 5.40pm (and there were more after me) and it was rather odd arriving at the hospital as most others were leaving. Strip and into a backless gown (I hate them), lie on the slab and be moved into the polo-mint machine, very claustrophobic and no space to move to be bombarded my magnetic stuff. I don’t remember it being so tight the last time I was done (8 years ago) but then again I was smaller then! I’d also forgotten how loud the machine is, even wearing headphones. 10 minutes later I was pulled out and sent on my merry way home. I’ll get the results when I go back in two weeks time.

Today? Well, I’m sitting here waiting for the nice man to deliver my Maximo Park tickets for next weekend. He’s tried before and failed so I’m sitting here in my bay window watching the drive for strangers carrying paperwork to wander up to the front door (my bell doesn’t work). The gig is next Friday so I’m getting slightly concerned about the tickets. They tried to deliver them to work but I was in another building at the time so missed them. I don’t know why the tickets have to be signed for by special delivery – the face value is only £20 or something so they should just post them but won’t.

Still, sitting here doing nothing much gives me the chance to listen to my new records, the four CD boxset of ‘Marc Bolan & T.Rex: 20th Century Superstar’. It’s got a nice representative selection of his entire recording history from his first demos as Toby Tyler through John’s Children and Tyrannosaurus Rex to the glory that was T.Rex. I haven’t reached the final disc yet which ends with ‘Celebrate Summer’ (with the chorus of ‘Summer is heaven in 77’), his last single before he died.

I’ve never heard the John’s Children tracks before and they’re surprisingly good (one of their singles even made the US Billboard Top 100 back in 1966). Some of the Tyrannosaurus Rex songs are familiar from one of my early vinyl collections from about 1971 and it’s lovely to hear them again whereas others are completely new. One of the joys and annoyances of this boxset is that it includes alternative takes on some of the songs, such as a 5 minute 18 second version of ‘Hot Love’ that’s never been released before – I love it, it’s excellent, but it’s not the version I’ve known for 36 years and if any version is re-mastered and re-issued it should be that one. Still, I can live with that. There’s also a 64 page booklet full of photos of the 20th Century Boy.

Anyway, back to the trolls. I've just taken a reading and my blood sugar is now 11.1. I can only conclude that it's the museli I've been eating for breakfast, even though there's no added sugar or salt and not much fruit. I was 6.0 before breakfast, after which I took my tablets and now I'm 11.1. Something in the museli is making the trolls act up so, bye-bye museli and hello to crunchy-nut cornflakes.

Petula Clark - A Sign Of The Times

Petula Clark - Downtown

Petula Clark - Fairfield Halls, Croydon

Went to see Petula Clark on Thursday night at the Fairfield Halls down in Croydon. Yes, Petula Clark!

I've always had a soft-spot for Petula, her songs from around 1965-1968 are so evocative of the time, with her clear voice and production, optimistic and joyful. Whenever I think of those '60s pop girls, it's Petula for me every time. I remember early Saturday evenings in the late '60s and early '70s with Cilla and Dusty and Lulu and Petula and they all wore long sparkly frocks for the big song. Marianne Faithfull was the bad girl who didn't appear, Sandi just wasn't big enough to really register beyond Eurovision and Clodagh Rodgers? But Petula epitomises that time for me and how I think of her.

Her voice is wonderfully clear and songs like 'Downtown', 'Don't Sleep In The Subway', 'I Know A Place', 'I Can't Live Without Your Love', 'Colour My World' and a host of others helped make London (and the world) swing and made London the place to be. Great, simple songs that stick in the mind. She was a star long before I was even born and that makes it a bit odd that she's not more of a legend than she is. I kept thinking to myself, 'That's *Petula Clark* on stage', not quite believing it...

Croydon is the start of suburban commuter-land in Surrey but you'd be hard-pressed to see where London ends and Surrey begins. I met Chris at Victoria for the trip down through saarf London and out into the big world. I've been to Croydon lots (it's just about 5 miles from my house) but I've never been to the Fairfeld Halls before. I'd always thought of the place as being a bit posh but that illusion dropped as soon as I entered the building. It would've been fab in the '70s, but now just looks a bit worn out, threadbare and a trifle grimy (and, ahem, provincial). The concert hall shriekd '70s at me, lots of wood paneling and brown. Just brown. A simple stage.

The band walked on, a nine-piece with three horn players at the back. They started playing 'Who Am I?', a voice floated in from the wings and, a few bars later, on walked Petula in a sparkly long red frock with a lace coat on top. Wow. There was Pet Clark in a sparkly frock and I whizzed back in time! She looks good, moving round the stage, engaging with the audience and the band, working it like the professional she is. But, I mean to say, that's PETULA CLARK!

She played for about an hour, doing a couple of songs and then telling a few stories of the old days, singing a couple of new songs, sometimes at the piano, sometimes wandering along the stage singing to the front few rows and then throwing back her head and giving us all some welly! She did a great version of 'I Know A Place' where she really wigged out, man. She can still do it! And then she said a few words, went off and the lights came up. 'Eh?' I thought and realised we were having a half-time. More Pet to come.

The second half opened with Pet re-appering in black sparkly this time and starting off with a couple of jazzy big band numbers, the music of her youth. Then launched into more favourites, she recited a poem she wrote on the Eurostar about the theatre, sang a Piaf song in French accompanying herself on piano, and more favourites. An hour later and it was all over to a standing ovation. And then back she came again for a fantastic, 'I Can't Live Without Your Love', the audience on their feet singing and clapping along and Pet in charge from the stage. It was a great ending, she shook hands and accepted flowers and that was it for the evening.

She has an astonishingly large catalogue of songs to choose from and she did all the biggies from my perspective. She sounded in excellent voice. She sang songs from some of the shows she's been in over the years, 'Blood Brothers', 'Sunset Boulevarde' and 'Finian's Rainbow'. She sang a few of her new songs which sounded good and probably more gentle on her voice as it is now. I thoroughly enjoyed the show - just over two hours, a load of memories and the knowledge that I've been in the presence of a great star.

The Rose Tattoo - National Theatre

I am officially on holiday as of tonight so went to see 'The Rose Tattoo' to celebrate. My recent run of plays hasn't been too successful, but (phew!) this bucked the trend in unpleasantness and was a thoroughly enjoyable evening.

A play with love, despair, anger and hurt, humour, claustrophobia, shame, love and joy, the range of human emotions. A bit of light and shade, some humanity.

I don't have a very good track record with Tennesee Williams. My claim to fame (and everlasting shame) is falling asleep during the first act of 'The Glass Menagerie' sitting in the front row right in front of a small table on which was laid out a glass menagerie. It was in Toronto a couple of years ago, freezing snow outside, warm and cosy inside and my head nodded ...

Zoe Wanamaker is excellent as Serafina, the main character who's on stage for almost the whole time. It's not a one-woman show by any means but the production probably stands or falls by who plays that part. She's a social climber who starts off dressed to the nines in a colourful frock and gradually descends into a grimy slip as despair and loss affect her before dressing up again for a night of passion and ends up running after her new love in her dressing gown. Not the most physically flattering role for her to play but she did it so well.

It's not the most subtle of plays and you could see where it was heading but I wanted her to open her eyes and find love again in a cruel world. Zoe made me want that rather than the writing, I think, which is a demonstration of her power as an actress. There's a sort of parallel story going on with Serafina's daughter finding first love but that didn't engage me so much.

There was a nice motif of a watch that Serafina buys for her daughter's graduation from school that she keeps failing to give to her. The watch doesn't work while she's still in the rut of loss and still mourning the death of her husband three years earlier and then, once she's found a new love, the watch is working again. But she still fails to give it to her daughter.

It was an interesting production as well, with Serafina's house on a turntable on stage, turning round for every other act, a gaggle of women as neighbours, a gang of children running round at odd moments and, my favourite, a massively horned and shaggy brown goat! O yes. All life is here.

I thoroughly enjoyed it. I was moved, I had a chuckle, I struggled with the odd Italian-American accents, I admired Zoe in tight-fitting frocks and lose slips, I felt strangely embarrassed for the lover on stage in his boxer shorts, I was outraged when the goat didn't join the cast on stage for applause at the end. And I had a beer at half-time followed by ice-cream. What more could one ask?

Influencer of Idols

I'm enjoying reading the biography of Marc Bolan by Mark Paytress. It's rather densely packed with facts and anecdotes as he recounts Mark Feld growing into Marc Bolan, along with analysis and speculation. There's lots of name-dropping of course, which is as I expected. But I didn't expect to see the name of Buffy Sainte-Marie in these pages.

He's still only 19 at the moment (I'm up to 1966) and about to join John's Children but he's already done some unsuccessful solo demos. One of his first demos was a song called, 'A Song for Soldiers' which is dismissed as a take on "... Donovan's song." This must refer to 'Universal Soldier' which is a Buffy song that Donovan covered.

Then, a few pages later, the author notes that Marc's voice changed and he developed a new style of singing, the style we know and love today. In his early years Marc imitated Cliff Richard and Bob Dylan, a sound I can't begin to imagine, but sometime in 1966 his voice changed. The author writes,

It was a remarkable transition with no obvious precedent... Comparisons have been made with Bessie Smith's blueswailing, though a more likely contemporary influence was Buffy Sainte-Marie, the Amer-indian folksinger whose dramatic and lachrymose vocal flutters would have reached Marc's ears during the mid-sixties.

I've never really thought of Buffy and Marc together. Buffy's voice is far stronger than Marc's but maybe Buffy's vibrato influenced Marc's warble? Something the book makes clear is that Marc wasn't reticent about 'borrowing' influences.

Not that it really matters. It's fascinating to see how Buffy pops up in all sorts of places. I wonder if she knows about this and whether she even knows who Marc was? Anyway, it's an excuse for another photo of Buffy.