The only record of Peter Gabriel I ever owned on vinyl was manufactured in the USSR and entitled simply «Питер Гейбриэл» (apparently, they weren’t so sure how to translate So to Russian, and the spelling «Гейбриэл» must have looked innocent back then).
I also had a curious double compilation album Greenpeace Breakthrough (1989) which included the So opener «Красный дождь» (Red Rain). I completely forgot that, in addition to Peter Gabriel (now as Питер Гэбриэл), it featured Sting, Grateful Dead (Грейтфул Дэд), Sade (Шаде) and Dire Straits (Дайер Стрейтс)!
About the same time, I first spotted Sledgehammer and Big Time music videos on 2×2, the first commercial TV channel in the USSR. Man I was impressed.
The covers of the So songs abound. I love Sledgehammer by Morgan James...
But nobody makes Peter Gabriel covers better than Gabriel himself, with a little help from his friends. My favourite So re-interpretations are Don’t Give Up as a duet with Tracy Chapman...
...and In Your Eyes with Youssou N’Dour, Angélique Kidjo and Soweto Gospel Choir.
Squeezed uneasily between Sheer Heart Attack (IMHO the best Queen album, period) and A Day at the Races (the first Queen album I heard in its entirety so I can’t be objective), A Night at the Opera is that proverbial “second part of the trilogy”: grandiose but ultimately disappointing. Besides, it has a fatal flaw, for a prog-rock record anyway: a hit song that everybody knows, to the detriment of the rest of the album. (You might recall I said the same about Machine Head, and I’ll say it again.) Luckily for those of us who still listen to rock albums in correct order, you can stop it right after Good Company. Try it.
The opener, Death on Two Legs, is a diss track par excellence. I loved it before I could understand the lyrics. (Now that I do understand it, I prefer Rata de dos patas.) I’m in Love with My Car is a great number by Taylor (is that the “open car” he was asking for in Tenement Funster, I wonder). ’39 is a space shanty all future astronauts should learn in kindergarten. The Prophet’s Song is an epic. Cheesy lyrics notwithstanding, You’re My Best Friend actually has got soul — check out the Astro Samurai cover for that soul dimension. The same could be said about Love of My Life, except this latter practically asks to be made fun of by a barbershop quartet. This Russian-language parody from the 1986 Soviet TV show «Весёлые ребята» does just that.
My favourites though are the three retro songs (they were retro already 50 years ago): Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon, Seaside Rendezvous and Good Company.
As for Bohemian Rhapsody, it fared really well for a single, so I think that’s how it should have stayed. Perhaps naming a 2018 biopic after it was not the best idea but it perfectly illustrates that by now — and this “now” has started long time ago — it’s more a cultural reference than a song. There are zillions of covers but for me the Father Noel Furlong’s version and that by Chirigota Los Quemasangre are the best.
Isn’t it curious how, 50 years later*, the only Mark IV studio album still manages to divide Purple fans. Is it, or is not, DP? Why it shouldn’t be DP? Come Taste the Band could (or should) be called pioneering for being the first album in Purple discography not to feature Ritchie Blackmore. It’s not Machine Head, and thanks for that. It did not spawn any stadium hits à laSmoke on the Water — ditto.
I myself didn’t quite dig CTTB upon first hearing, some time in early ’80s. The fact that I heard the atrocious Last Concert in Japan first must have contributed to my initial prejudice towards Tommy Bolin. But why? Poor Tommy couldn’t even play on Last Concert in Japan, not with two hands anyway. Forget it. On CTTB, Bolin shines through and through. Re-listening it now, I realise how ahead of the time this record was.
The title is, of course, a portmanteau of the famous Cabaret lyrics. My favourite tracks are Gettin’ Tighter, This Time Around/Owed to ‘G’ and You Keep On Moving. The 35th Anniversary Edition (why not 30th or 36th, I wonder?) does not provide much in terms of extra material. The second CD (2010 Kevin Shirley Remix) is a refreshing alternative worth listening to... before you go back to enjoy the “original” version, in this case, CD1 (i.e. 2010 Digital Remaster). If I owned a turntable, a space to house it, and £105 to spare, I’d go for the real thing, not least because of its gorgeous cover art.
*
Wikipedia says, in the same article, that the album was released on 10 October 1975 and on 7 November 1975. This cannot be right. According to the BPI database, Come Taste the Band was certified silver on 01.11.1975, six days before its release on 07.11.1975.
My brother and I first heard Wish You Were Here relatively late, in early ’80s, already after The Wall. Like most of Western music at the time, it came on magnetic tape reel. It was a good quality recording (chromium dioxide tape, 19 cm/s, directly from vinyl) that turned out to be an exceptionally good quality recording. By the beginning of the title track my brother temporarily left our (tape recorder-hosting) room and went to the kitchen. Then I heard him shouting, “Will you quit plinking!” — obviously at me, as we were alone in the house at that moment. As flattered I was, it wasn’t me. It just so happened that Gilmour’s acoustic guitar in the intro sounded very similar to mine. I myself wouldn’t dare to play along the song I heard for the first time in my life. That’s how good the tape was.
There was nothing to grow on me: it was a love at first hear. WYWH dethroned all other Pink Floyd’s albums, even The Dark Side of the Moon. By contrast, the cover art, when I finally saw it, was a disappointment, if not to say sacrilege. I wouldn’t mind to have that postcard though.
In 2006, I went to see Rodrigo y Gabriela at The Junction in Cambridge. As they often did back then, they played Wish You Were Here with Rodrigo using a (half-full) beer bottle as a slide and the audience singing along. I am still looking for a decent quality video of that or a similar performance, but believe me, it was magic. How I wish you were there.
Finally, some rock and jazz! This is what I’ve seen this month:
2 November: Could Seed & Stone From The Sky @ Rock Beer The New, Calle Peñas Redondas, 15, Santander
Two psychedelic/prog rock bands from France. I asked for the names of the musicians and I’ve got the names although not surnames. Could Seed are Jordan (guitar), Dimitri (guitar), Thomas (bass) and Élie (drums); Stone From The Sky are Florent (guitar), Dimitri (bass) and Clément (drums).
Cantabrian country music trio presenting their new album in my favourite record shop in Santander.
9 November: Safree @ Teatro CASYC, Calle Tantín, 25
As it was a part of the cycle Excéntricos 2023, I expected some standard of quality. Instead, I found myself at the worst show I’ve ever paid money to see in Santander. Boring reggaeton from somebody who can neither compose nor sing. Best avoided.
16 November: Mujerklorica @ Teatro CASYC
There was no better way to get rid of the bad taste in the mouth left by the preceding concert than to return to CASYC a week later for a healthy dose of flamenco. With Alicia Carrasco (cante), José Manuel León (guitar), Carlos Merino (percussion) and Sara Vázquez (baile).
16 November: Sebastian Raspanti @ Bar Bolero, Calle San Celedonio, 35
Maybe not the best singer-sogwriter out there but the anecdotes he was telling were very entertaining.
18 November: «Danza de las Sombras» @ Eureka Santander, Calle San Simón, 8
Pretty unlistenable music that might have been called avant-garde some sixty years ago and sounds awfully dated now. The dance was not so bad but not exactly engaging either. Featuring Cecilia Gala (dance), Marta Sainz (voice) and Enrique Zaccagnini (sounds).
23 November: Marathon Jazz @ Escenario Santander, Avenida de la Constitución 39 (Parque de las Llamas)
Plenty of familiar faces paid a moving homage to Marcos Rvbicón.
Antonio Gamaza (piano) and Javier San Miguel (saxophones)
Javier San Miguel Quartet: Manuel Cavero (double bass), Antonio Gamaza (piano), Adela Green (drums), Javier San Miguel (saxophones)
Rafael Santana Trio: Toño Gutiérrez (electric bass), Rodri Irizábal (drums) and Rafa Santana (piano)
Toño Gutiérrez Sextet: featuring Javier Escudero (guitar), Chus Gancedo (drums), Johannes Gunkel (trumpet), Toño Gutiérrez (electric bass), Rafa Santana (piano, keyboards) and Chisco Villanueva (tenor sax)
Special guest: Francesco Bearzatti (tenor sax)
25 November: «Entre sombras» @ Palacio de Festivales de Cantabria, Calle de Gamazo
Later the same day, with Dany Garcia (guitar), David Costas (piano), Antonio Romero (bass) and the guests.
And two exhibitions:
10 November 2023 — 4 February 2024: «El agua espera» @ El Palacete del Embarcadero, Muelle de Calderón
The last exhibition in El Palacete del Embarcadero before they close it for renovations next year.
24 November — 11 December: Tipos23 @ Muelle de Albareda
The exhibition of posters dedicated to peripheries of Santander. Featuring works by Cristina Arce, Jesús Allende Valcuende, Celia Andrés Ruamayor, Natalia Andueza, Patxi Antxón, Javier Clérigo, Begoña Cueli, Isabel de la Sierra, Gorka Gil, Víctor Fernández, Carmen Gutiérrez Somavilla, José Antonio Quintana, Ruth Martín Casanova, Verónica Ruiz Vicente, Rafa San Emeterio and Manuel Teira.
When released 50 years ago, A Passion Play was not exactly loved by critics. According to Wikipedia,
Some members of the band, in retrospect, expressed distaste for the album, including Anderson, saying that “I’ve always thought that A Passion Play suffered more than any other album I’ve ever made from being over-arranged and over-produced and over-cooked” and that Jethro Tull fans who call the album their favourite album of all time “should of course remain in the establishment for the criminally insane in which they probably already reside”.
I first heard A Passion Play in the mid-’90s, when it was already a classic. Now, re-listening to the 1990 CD I bought in Leeds back then (not the 2014 Steven Wilson remix), I just don’t understand why they were so harsh on it. Sure, its 1972 predecessor, Thick as a Brick, was a hard act to follow. The band’s official website says that APP’s “lyrics are, arguably, even more confusing” than that of TAAB, which could be viewed as an achievement in its own right. And then there is The Story of the Hare Who Lost His Spectacles, written and narrated by Jeffrey Hammond, deliciously absurd and yet making more sense than the rest of the album.
Owl loved to rest quietly whilst no one was watching. Sitting on a fence one day, he was surprised when suddenly a kangaroo ran close by.
Now this may not seem strange, but when Owl overheard Kangaroo whisper to no one in particular, “The Hare has lost his spectacles”, well, he began to wonder.
I was ignorant of this film until now. Apparently, during the 1973 Passion Play tour, the video was projected halfway through the live performance. Silly, silly, silly. Get on with it!
Is there anything to say about the now 50-year-old classic that hasn’t already been said? I seriously doubt it but, as I am in a nostalgic mode now, I’ll say, I mean write, something anyway.
It was not until 1977 that I heard The Dark Side of the Moon in its entirety (as it happened with Revolver), once again thanks to that previously mentioned leather briefcase. (Which also hosted Deep Purple, Elvis, Grand Funk, Shocking Blue, Simon & Garfunkel, Slade, Wings, and much more.) And not just “heard”: listened to it dozens of times. The theme I liked the most was The Great Gig in the Sky. I couldn’t make a sense of its title though: my pocket English dictionary provided only one meaning of gig, viz. “a long light rowing boat”. What?
I remember my disappointment on seeing for the first time the LP cover, already in the ’80s. It looked cheap, as an inaccurately copied picture from the school physics textbook would.
Original LP cover. Dude, where is the seventh colour?
When I finally got my own copy, it was the 30th Anniversary hybrid CD/SACD edition. I don’t have the equipment to play SACD but the CD layer sounds great — and different from the original 1973 mix. I’ve been happy with it for the last 20 years; in any case, splashing out €250 on the 50th Anniversary deluxe box set is out of question.
Tributes and references — including self-references — are abound. Dub Side of the Moon remains my favourite: it’s both true to and different from the original. In Alan Parker’s film The Wall, the teacher humiliates a student by reading the latter’s poem to the class. The poem turns out to be “no less” than Money.
Teacher: What have we here, laddie? Mysterious scribblings? A secret code? No! Poems, no less! Poems, everybody! The laddie reckons himself a poet! “Money get back, I’m alright, Jack, keep your hands off of my stack. New car, caviar, four star daydream. Think I’ll buy me a football team.” Absolute rubbish, laddie. Get on with your work!
Moving on: in 1983, Alexander Tatarsky made an animated short named «Обратная сторона Луны». It has nothing to do with Pink Floyd’s classic, apart from the title that is. All the voices, in pure gibberish, were furnished by Aleksey Ptitsyn. Watch out for that accordion rendition of Giya Kancheli’s Chito-Gvrito from Mimino (about 1:30).
According to Wikipedia, Who Do We Think We Are was released in the States on 12 January 1973. In the liner notes to the 2000 remastered edition, Simon Robinson wrote:
In America, where live sets were always hated by major labels, Warners insisted on getting “Who Do We Think We Are” out first. Back in Europe everyone was happy for the live release to precede it and the new studio album was released in March 1973.
While Discogs says that the first UK issue (TPSA 7508) was in February 1973. In absence of more precise information — why not mid-February then. Happy arbitrary Birthday, WDWTWA!
As a curiosity, the title of the album on the original LP label as well as the cassettes includes the exclamation mark which is absent on the sleeve and on subsequent CD releases. Go figure. Personally, I like the “exclamation” version (as an answer to “Who do they think they are?”) more. If it was up to me, I’d put there another (inverted) one, as they do in Spanish: ¡Who Do We Think We Are!
I first heard the album in its entirety in the early 1980s. From the catchy opener Woman from Tokyo to the psychedelic-era-Beatles-inspired finale of Our Lady, I loved it all. Machine Head it wasn’t — it was so much more interesting. Especially Jon’s crazy keys on Rat Bat Blue and slow (at first) blues of Place In Line. So fresh. So different. But what about Mary Long? That song rang a certain bell. Where could I hear it before?
Some days or weeks or months later, rummaging through our “collection” — well, a big dusty heap — of flexidiscs, I found it. This patently weird compilation simply entitled «Вокально-инструментальные ансамбли», that is, “Vocal-Instrumental Ensembles”. No names of the bands VIAs, no songwriter credits, no nothing. Just a note «на английском языке» (“in English”, in case the listener has any doubt). Typical. The A for America side had And When I Die by Blood, Sweat & Tears and Someday by Chicago, the latter inexplicably translated as «Борьба», i.e. “Struggle”. (The class struggle maybe?) The B for Britain side: bingo! Mary Long and another song from WDWTWA, Super Trouper. How? Why? Who? Most likely we’ll never know. Godawful cover design, atrocious sound quality; all yours for 60 kopecks.
Вокально-инструментальные ансамбли
Side A
Blood, Sweat & Tears — And When I Die (Laura Nyro) / Когда умру
Deep Purple — Super Trouper / Великолепный музыкант
The bonus tracks to my 2000 remastered edition (Amazon still remembers that I bought it 20 years ago!) include a splendid outtake Painted Horse (which would end up on the album if Ritchie hadn’t hated it) and First Day Jam “with Ritchie on bass and Roger on the Autobahn”, as The Highway Star put it. Indeed, on the first day of recording sessions in Waldorf Nord, Germany (October 1972), Roger Glover, in his own words, “had taken a wrong turn <on the Autobahn> and was desperately looking for a way back”. 50 years later, perhaps the most underrated album of the classic Mark II line-up still rocks.
Songs for Drella (1990) was a fruit of the first (also, the second to last) reunion of Reed and Cale since 1968. “Drella” was a nickname of Andy Warhol to whom the album pays homage. A noble cause, no doubt, but the result didn’t quite work for me.
This film
documents a live performance, without an audience though, of the whole album on 4 and 5 December of 1989. No less, but also no more than that. The personal interaction between the two is minimal — they sit like six meters apart for the whole show and never look at each other. From one song to another, the photography switches between colour and black and white, perhaps in a (vain) hope to add some visual diversity. The only song that touched me in some way was Forever Changed.
The screening in Castillo de Mata, followed by a conference with the journalist and music critic Ignacio Julià (which I didn’t stay for), has opened the CINEZiN2 festival.
A collection of 15 albumen silver prints by Gustave Le Gray taken between 1856 and 1857. (It was the last day of this exhibition, so I made an effort to go there after a lazy day on a beach.) Read more here.
5 October: Nusondia @ Rvbicón, Calle del Sol, 4, Santander
African music meets jazz-funk. Featuring Sabari Kurra (kora, vocals), Chema (keyboards) and Dani Martín (drums). Watch the full concert here.
6 October: Maud the Moth @ Teatro CASYC, Calle Tantín, 25
The Edinburgh-based composer, pianist and singer Amaya López-Carromero aka Maud the Moth opened her Spanish tour with this intimate concert, playing (mostly) the material from her last album Orphnē. A sumptuous and singular fusion of folk, electronica, classical music and prog-rock charmingly presented by a lady at the piano.
6—9 October: Sala del órgano @ El antiguo túnel de Tetuán
An audiovisual show (lasting about five minutes) by Pablo Turanzas, at the Sardinero exit of the old Tetuan tunnel. A part of the festival Hágase la luz.
7 October: Tranki & Los Palos de Blues @ Plaza Pombo
A local trio playing good old rock’n’roll; with collaboration dancing folk courtesy of Asociación Punto Swing Santander.
I couldn’t attend all the activities but I went to see Deaf Dogs (Friday), Tomasito (Saturday) and Hendrik Röver & Los Míticos GT’s (that is, Goyo Chiquito & Toño López).
12 October: The Skin Tree Project @ Rvbicón
A modern jazz trio featuring Sergio Rowles (electric guitar), Guillermo Suárez (double bass) and Mario Fuentes (drums). Watch the full concert here.
I missed (or rather ignored) this immersive experience all summer in Santander (26 May — 31 August), but it followed us to Las Palmas. We decided to give it a shot and were not disappointed. There was no need to buy tickets online as that involved paying €1.50 “gastos de gestión” per person.
A proof, if any was needed, that Spanish is not the best language for blues and rock, effortlessly provided by Phil Grijuela (guitar, harmonica, voice) and some guests who, thankfully, did not sing.
27 October: Solana @ Rvbicón
A world music fusion band featuring Tamsin Elliott (accordion, flutes, voice), Rowan Elliott (violin, viola, cajón), Elio Araúz de Marcos (drums, percussion, voice), Jp Wolfgang (guitars) and Henry Edmonds (double bass, electric bass).
29 October: Context @ Café de Las Artes Teatro, Calle García Morato, 4
A creation by Alessandro Carboni performed by Sara Capanna. I found its 30 minutes excruciatingly long and at the same time not providing enough value for its €11.
29 October: Crash Normal @ Cafe/Bar Bolero, Calle San Celedonio, 35
Later the same evening: the Paris-based musician mixing the Greek rebetiko rhythms with psychedelic rock and electronica sounds in his new project Hypno Rebetiko, plus a mind-blowing version of Tomorrow Never Knows. To quote his BandCamp page,
I’m here to celebrate the music of the outlaws, the pot smokers, the jailbirds and the gamblers but also those who would be able to spend 15 years in prison just for the love of someone.
Free entrance and very agreeable ambience.
30 October: MAR (Micrófono Abierto Rvbicón) @ Rvbicón
Many familiar faces, nothing extraordinary. I was half-expecting something in a Halloween-ish mood but no such luck, apart from a face-painted couple next to me.
Released 50 years ago today, this classic of rock remains, deservedly, the most famous Purple record. My first partial encounter with it was, I reckon, in the mid-1970s. I say “partial” because the tape we listened to then lacked Pictures of Home and Lazy. Discovered by me towards 1980, they became my favourite tracks of the album.
Not as heavy as In Rock, not as diverse as Fireball, Machine Head nevertheless provides more than enough variety and fun for a rock album. It could have been perfect if not for that number about some stupid with a flare gun which I really think should have been left out and replaced by When a Blind Man Cries. Not that it’s bad; it’s just not up to the level of the other songs.
During one of these lost and searching days, I awoke one morning in my room at the Europe and, in that moment between sleep and wakefulness, with eyes still closed, heard myself say the words “smoke on the water” to the empty room. Opening my eyes, I wondered if I had actually said it out loud, or had I been dreaming? No, I concluded, I’d actually spoken those words. Mentally filing it away, I thought nothing more about it until later, when I told Ian Gillan. “Sounds like a drug song,” he observed and since we were devoutly a drinking band, we dismissed it.
Maybe I am too hard on it. (How hard one can be on a hard rock classic?) After all, thanks to it I learned about Montreux (also how this latter is pronounced by the English) and Frank Zappa and The Mothers. By now, the band themselves may well be fed up with the old Smoke but the fans can’t have enough of it. And there’s no shortage of covers. My favourites are Señor Coconut’s Humo en el agua, Dread Zeppelin’s groovy one, an instrumental by Stekpanna (from Standin’ Tall) and 1920s-style version by Robyn Adele Anderson.
CD1 of the Anniversary Edition, remixed in 1997 by Glover, is “what it <the album> should have sounded at the time”. It took me 25 years to get used to, or maybe more: I’m still working on it.
During this month the obligatory COVID passports for cultural events got scrapped. And there was a lot of events.
2 February: «Si tú me dices ven» @ Palacete Rodríguez Quegles, Calle Benito Pérez Galdós, 4, Las Palmas de Gran Canaria
Los Tres Aries are Salvador Delgado (vocals, guitar), José Julio Aguilar (vocals, guitar) and Paco José Falcón (requinto guitar, vocals), named so because all three of them share the same Zodiac sign. The trio covered such bolero standards as Cucurrucucú paloma, Quizás, quizás, quizás, El Reloj and, of course, Si tú me dices ven, in addition to the original songs.
3 February: Cubakan «Viaje de ida y vuelta» @ Museo Castillo de Mata, Calle Domingo Guerra del Río, 147
Afro-Cuban jazz with Canarian flavour. José Alberto Medina (piano), Kervin Barreto (trumpet, flugelhorn, percussion, vocals), Dayron Álvarez (percussion, vocals), Felix López (percussion, vocals) and Jose Angel Campoalegre Valdes (vocals, guitar, cuatro Cubano).
4 February: Skinny Soul @ Museo Castillo de Mata
Intriguing nu jazz-pop fusion from Alba Vega Leiras (vocal, keyboards), José Carlos Cejudo (electric bass), Luis Sánchez Guerra (keyboards) and Eduardo Fernández-Villamil Menéndez (drums). A rare occasion here when I liked the (original) Anglophone songs more than the (also original) Spanish-lyrics ones.
5 February: «A través del bolero» @ Auditorio José Antonio Ramos, Parque Doramas
Another good helping of boleros, this time from Gabriel Domínguez (vocals, bassoon) with Osvaldo Hernández (drums), Rayko León (piano), Fofi Lusson (double bass, guitar) and Fernando Rodríguez (percussion).
10 February: Rayko León Quartet @ Museo Castillo de Mata
Rayko León (piano, compositions and arrangements) with Renato D’Aiello (tenor sax), Carlos Meneses (double bass) and Alberto García (drums).
11 February: Alba Gil Aceytuno @ Museo Castillo de Mata
21st century prog-rock from incredibly versatile Alba Gil Aceytuno (sax, flute, keys, vocals) with José Carlos Cejudo (electric bass), Alexandre Coulon (drums), Alberto Díaz (trombone) and Luis Merino (guitar), presenting (mostly) music from Alba’s 2021 album Aguayro.
With Luis Merino (guitar) and Lucas Arencibia (cajon).
17 February: Midnight Soul @ Museo Castillo de Mata
If you like The Commitments you’d thoroghly enjoy tonight’s electrifying renditions of hits like Chain of Fools, Hit the Road Jack, Treat Her Right and even Satisfaction. Midnight Soul are: Lorena Román, Esther Suárez, Bentejui de Vera (vocals), David Alamo (guitar), Echedey Angulo (sax), Samuel Medina (drums), Dani Morales (bass), Neftalí Ojeda (trumpet) and Emilio Tabraue (keys).
18 February: JazzAire Originals @ Museo Castillo de Mata
Modern jazz with flamenco overtones. With Sara Brito (flute), Carlos Meneses (double bass), Cristóbal Montesdeoca (piano) and Takeo Takahashi (drums).
The first masterclass of 2022 organised by Mousikê.
24 February: Javi Montero Jazz Band «Surgere» @ Museo Castillo de Mata
Powerful vintage jazz-rock. Featuring Javi Montero (drums), José Carlos Cejudo (electric bass), Santiago Miranda (guitar) and David Quevedo (keyboards), with special guest Kervin Barreto (trumpet). Unfortunately, the concert had to be cut short because of the rain.
25 February: «Conversaciones» @ Museo Castillo de Mata
This evening, the concert was moved under the roof. The duo of violinist Pablo Rodríguez (La Palma) and pianist Humberto Ríos (Cuba) played extended versions of some of their conversaciones, fusing folk, jazz and modern classical music. A beautiful coda to the great series of concerts Cultura en acción organised by LPA Cultura.
