There IS an Elvis

Oh Mr. God, I's in great trouble, for Nelly's got hurt, an' they took her into the 'firmary, an won't let me see her till to-morrer, but You knows all about it I specks, for Joe says as how You knows everything.  But I dunna want her to die, for Joe says You take people who dies that is good to a mighty nice place; nicer'n Eastham by a long chalk, an' how You has lots an' lots o' childer; an' if that be the case, I's sure You needn't take little Nell; for, oh Sir, she's all I's got in the world. Please let her stay an' get better. Oh, do now! for I'll break my heart if she dies. An' 'member, I's only a little chap, an' I's no-one  but Nelly; an' 'tis so lonesome out here, an' she is there. Please make her better. If I was in Your place an You was a little chap like me, I'd let your Nelly stay. I would for sure. An' oh, if you'll let my Nelly stay an' get better, I'll be awful good.

Amen

Her Benny, Silas K. Hocking, Liverpool, 1879

Footnote: little Nell dies.

true love is not a crime

BS1, Feek, Bristol

I dreamed that love was a crime

I was alone, so lonely and blue

You know why?

SPZero76, Dean Lane, Bristo

l

 Because eight men and four women

Lord, they found me guilty of loving you (loving you)

assorted, Dean Lane, Bristol

 As they were taking me away

You were taking

I saw you when you were taking the witness stand

You know what?

tribute to Matt Mibsy Hibbert, King of Paint, collab Inkie and Cheo

I heard the lawyer when he asked you, my love

"Do you really love that man?"

tribute to Mibsy, Deams, Stolkes Croft, Bristol

 It was eight men and four women (guilty)

How could they be so blind (guilty)

How could they?

Isabella - - Bristol

 I know they sat there

And called true love a crime

This is what killed me

Silent Hobo, Bristol

But a tear rolled down my cheek

I felt so sorry for you

You know why?

Because in my heart I knew

Oh yes, baby I knew

That they would find you guilty too

 Judge, your honor and to the jury

 I intend to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt

That we are innocent

 

Lost Souls, SPZero76, Bristol

And true love is not a crime

 (Lord, that's the jury of love)

Lord, that's the jury of love

A mean judge, a mean jury, oh, that's the jury of love

(Lord, that's the jury of love)

(Lord, that's the jury of love)

Oh that's just the way it goes baby

They found me guilty of love

words:Eight men, four women, OV Wright. 1967

images: art from Bristol, UK, 2014

1975 (part two) - Tangs rule ok

After Genesis - Tangerine Dream.  This was no ordinary concert.  This took place in Liverpool Cathedral, one of four cathedral performances by the Tangs in the UK in 1975.

(Note: Roundabout this time Virgin Records ran a double page colour spread in NME showing a (drawn) brick wall with (fake) graffiti on it saying stuff like D'Oyly Carte Squeaks and Tangs Rule OK without any explanation who the Tangs were.  Those of us who knew knowingly called Tangerine Dream the Tangs ever afterwards.  Because it was so inappropriate. The advert above is a variant on the one I remember.)

So first of all, Liverpool Cathedral.  If you want a cathedral - we've got one to spare.  There's the Mersey Funnel, which is the Catholic one, with the four bells, known as John, Paul, George and Ringo.  Ringo is the littlest one, named after Mr Starr on account of being out of tune.  And at the other end of Hope Street is the Anglican Cathedral.  It was here that Tangerine Dream played on 16th October 1975.

Tangerine Dream were a trio of German musicians, Edgar Froese, Peter Baumann and Chris Franke whose chosen instruments of mass distraction were synthesizers.  Nowadays I can set my iPad up to produce a 40 minute suite that sounds as close to Tangerine Dream as you ever need to get.  Back then you would have had to have a degree in engineering to build a synth in the first place.  Secondly you would have had to have balls of steel to imagine that anyone would buy this kind of music or go to this kind of gig.  But people did buy it and people did go to the gigs, the Cathedral was packed.

In the Middle Ages cathedrals were built for a number of reasons.  Venerating God was one, but that's not the whole story.  There was an element of showing that our city is greater than yours, or our king is more pious and humble than yours.  There was an element of subjugation too; the people of a city would be so impressed by the might of the Church and the Establishment that they wouldn't dream of revolting.  The size and scale of the buildings was part of this but so was what went on inside.  Pomp and circumstance, the ritual and routine, all designed to create a sense of awe and wonder.  Music played its part and the acoustics of churches and cathedrals developed to maximise its effect.  I heard the Hilliard Ensemble in Chichester Cathedral and found it hard to believe that four unamplified voices could fill that space.  But fill it they did because the cathedral itself was the sound system.

Tangerine Dream filled Liverpool Cathedral with electronic instruments and a bloody big PA.  It was all encompassing; filling every nook and cranny of the building (Neither of Liverpool's cathedrals date from the Middle Ages.  Both are 20th century buildings.  But the Anglican cathedral in particular has learned the lessons of the past.).  What did it sound like?

Tangerine Dream made records.  You can listen to Rubicon or Phaedra a hundred times.  When Tangerine Dream performed they didn't play the "songs" from the records.  They didn't, I'm sure, make it up as they went along, but they improvised.  When they played live you were hearing something new, something that hadn't been written yet, something that would be lost on the wind when it ended.  This is part of the reason it was special: outside of the people in that room, there and then, nobody would ever hear this.  Until the Internet.  When anyone, anywhere in the world can type into a search engine Tangerine Dream Liverpool Cathedral 1975 and find this:

I'll add some scans of the tour programme later.  So, come back y'all.

1975 (part one) - from Genesis to revelation

When I started this thread, a musical journey from 1961 to 2014, almost a year ago, my intention was to rattle off these posts one a day, get through the '60s so I could get on to the ones I really wanted to write about - the mid 70s.  A fortnight would have got me from being born to my first gig.  And then a bunch of stuff happened and the thread got derailed.

But 1974 appeared a few days ago.  I did mean to mention on that post - go to http://1001-songs.blogspot.co.uk/ for a really good blog about 1974 (and track back for a really good blog about 1973).  (And I'm guessing stick around for a really good blog about 1975 from January onwards).  Anyway I feel a sense of duty to get to 1980.  So off we go again.

The first live performances I went to were classical concerts at the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Hall and Junior Showtime in Vale Park Bandstand in Wallasey.  They were worlds apart but I must admit I enjoyed both.  At least some of the visits to the Phil were with school, an enlightened attempt to get some Culture into our young minds.  The visits to Vale Park were just what people did on a Sunday afternoon in Wallasey.  Junior Showtime was a talent show where precocious children sang old Music Hall songs like My Old Man Said Follow that Van and Don't Dilly Dally on the Way.  Seems like those songs were not as innocent as we thought but were full of smutty innuendo.  There they were being performed by coquettish kids in the shadow of the old Yewtree.

In 1975, a few days after my 14th birthday, I went to my first proper gig.  At the Empire in Liverpool's Lime Street. My first time was Genesis.  Before you snigger this was Genesis with Peter Gabriel performing Lamb Lies Down on Broadway.  In its entirety. With a couple of encores - Musical Box and The Knife.

I'd certainly been to the Empire before but I guess mostly for Christmas pantos.  A rock gig was different.  It was like being in the classroom when the teacher has gone.  People wandering around or sitting on the backs of chairs, smoking and random shouting.  I imagine it wasn't just the Empire that had Random Shouting but there were two calls in particular popular in Liverpool for years - Wally and Albatross.  It would go like this.  The theatre would fill up.  There'd be some low key music coming through the PA and an increasing hubbub of chatter.  Then one person somewhere would call out Albatrossssssssss! This would be the cue for others to echo the call until there was a cacophony of random Albatross shouting.  It would end quite abruptly and we'd return to hubbub.  Hubbub, hubbub.  And someone would call out Wally and this would do the rounds from the stalls to the gods and back.  We have John Cleese to thank for Albatross and I think Wally was a Woodstock hangover.  His memory lingers on in the Where's Wally and Where's Waldo books.

Back to Genesis.  You can hear the show from the youtube link above (included in the interests of historic accuracy).  Actually it is heavily edited - it is missing Peter Gabriel's efforts to explain the story.  If you put together Gabriel's spiels, the libretto of the Lamb and the tale included on the album's inner sleeve (thoughtfully reproduced in the programme) you'd still have no idea what it was all about.  MyMateDave's dad said they must all be on drugs to be writing that stuff.  It was an incredible gig.  Your first time is always particularly memorable but this had a band at their creative peak; a 70s light show with slides, costumes and flutes; a suite of songs with a thread, with pace, a beginning, a middle and an end; high level of musicianship without descending into that heylookatmeImamuso thing.  They were a hard act to follow.  Seeing Floyd doing DSOTM probably would have topped it but I never saw that.

The next time I saw Genesis went like this:  late 1976: MyMateDave: hey look Genesis are playing the Empire again, wanna go? Me: yeah why not.  We get tickets.  October 1976, November 1976, December 1976 NME is full of punk.  Our interest in Genesis had already waned.  In fact it dissipated the day Gabriel left.  Crap like Squonk and Your Own Special Way did nothing for our burgeoning musical tastes, but it was a gig and a gig's a gig. So in January 1977 we were new punk converts ans we were in Liverpool with second row tickets for Genesis.  In the afternoon we saw the band walking down Lime Street.  If you've read this far you probably know that with Peter Gabriel gone drummer Phil Collins had taken on the role of singer which meant there was a new drummer.  Chester Thompson.  Frank Zappa's drummer!!!  So me and MyMateDave walk past Tony Banks, Phil Collins, Steve Hackett and Mike Rutherford and shout Hey Chester! What was it like playing with Zappa?  There's another story about that night which involves Ol Man River, a dangling mic and a burly bouncer but not for here.

Alice - where art thou?

 Alice, Midge & My Dog Sighs

One of the stand out pieces at My Dog Sighs and Midge's exhibition in Portsmouth recently was Alice (pictured above).  Alice was painted onto a page of found sheet music, titled Alice (romance) by J Ascher.  Alice must have been a favourite for Midge and My Dog as they chose variations on the theme for the advertising posters and flyers.  Here she is without musical notation in the Kings Window:

Together in Solitude, Midge and My Dog Sighs

So, what did Alice (Romance) by J. Ascher sound like?  Well, let's find out:

Not easy to pick out the lyrics at first listen.  However, the wonders of modern science can help with that.  So here's another instructional video:

"Alice, where art thou?", written by Joseph Ascher in 1861, was one of the most popular songs of its time. This typically sentimental ballad of a melancholy man lamenting the departure of a girl taken too soon is one of the quintessential standards of the popular music of the late 19th century. It was, like so many others, overplayed, and it eventually sank into oblivion.  

Mike Moss

Not totally into oblivion as Mahler allegedly borrowed it for his Rheinlegenchen.  As a piano piece it was much loved but challenging - another reason it may have sunk into oblivion.  Here are two manufactured versions of the song, the first a modern one generated by computer, the other an Ampico Piano Roll.  Both are worth watching and listening to. Enlightening.

Moving on, here's a cornet version which you might recognise

And here is why you might recognise it  - if you're a Brit and watched tv in the '80s.

Together in Solitude, Midge and My Dog Sighs

footnote: Anouk: Together Alone and Urban Solitude.  Just sayin'.  The eyes have it.

Stop the world, I want to get off

Eventually, all things merge into one

and a river runs through it.

The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time.

On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops.

Under the rocks are the words  .  .  . and some of the words are theirs

I am haunted by waters

Norman MacLean, A River Runs Through It

the mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death

I feel the deep snow

in my heart

Jackie Leven

"I'm here.  I love you.  I don't care if you need to stay up crying all night long.  I will stay with you.  There's nothing you can ever do to lose my love.  I will protect you until you die and after your death I will still protect you.  I am stronger than depression and I am braver than loneliness and nothing will ever exhaust me"

    Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

for Abi and Dan, the future is yours

xx