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#28: Bernard Butler (Suede)

Suede, circa 1994: Bernard Butler, left. Lead singer Brett Anderson, right.

This is the tale of an unexpected visitor, my Akai S900 sampler (see post) – and two floppy disks. It happened in 1994 during my days living in Gospel Oak, a part of North London just bordering on Hampstead Heath. Britpop hadn’t really arrived yet and it was about two years before the world got to know Oasis and The Spice Girls. Anyway, the guy I was sharing with had his own recording studio on the top floor. It had state of the art ProTools audio mastering facilities so occasionally bands, mainly dance music acts but occasionally name bands, would turn up (see my Buzzcocks post)

I also had some ‘kit’ (the term for audio and studio equipment), but my audio software couldn’t match that of my flatmate. Yet I DID own an Akai S-900 sampler. The Akai had a certain credibility because one could use 8-bit crunched up early digital sounds (think the early Super Mario Bros gaming soundtracks). This could easily be switched to 16-bit for a sleeker and more accurate digital sound. It was simple to use and also looked very very cool. The slightly younger musicians certainly wanted a piece of it.

So the Akai S-900 was cool, but my unique selling point turned out to be my sample library, a set of real recorded (not synthesised) sounds that could be loaded into the sampler. The analog equivalent of the early samplers would be the Mellotron consisting of many strips of tape of musicians actually playing. It was famously used by The Beatles and George Martin in Abbey Road studios, also in North London and fairly near Gospel Oak. You can hear the Mellotron in the famous haunting intro to The Beatles’ Strawberry Fields Forever. Paul McCartney (or George Martin?) are effectively playing ten flautists simultaneously. It is not synthetic and neither were the early samplers, except that they were digital and not analog.

My treasured Akai S-900 sampler, one of the first imported into the UK. They year was 1983 and I was thirteen. It was bought for me by my father from Turnkey, when it was still based in Hendon

Anyway I had studiously assembled my sample library and was very proud of it. I had several orchestras, horn sections, drum kits, bass sounds etc etc. Yet each floppy disk would only contain several samples, maybe only four or five sounds because each disk could only store about 5Mb – inconceivable now in the age of terabytes. To put it into context, a simple piece of music software now contains hundreds of thousands of samples (not four or five). Yes, music technology really HAS moved along that quickly. In magazines like Loot, musicians would exchange disks, copy them and then use them on their recordings. Like jazz scores, there was common agreement that money shouldn’t exchange hands as this was creative and consensual sharing. There were exceptions, but this was the accepted wisdom.

So back to the anecdote. One day, a very thin, very pale, long-haired twenty something knocks on the door and ambles up to my room hardly making any eye contact with me. He appeared to be dead set on a serious mission – and as far as I was concerned, it was a sound mission (excuse the pun) for authentic orchestral samples according to his reply to me via Loot. I ask him if wants a drink (although a very large Big Mac and fries would probably have done him more good). He doesn’t want a drink. He then proceeds to approach my Akai S-900 and starts to flick reverently through my floppy disks as if they were the lost holy grail of audio. I ask him:

‘So you’re a musician then? Keeping the wolf from the door?

‘I need strings. You got anything like that?’

Well at least there were two sentences there, albeit short ones.

‘Are you a musician?’ I ask.

He replies: ‘Well actually I’m in a band.’ And I reply: ‘Cool, done any local gigs?’

‘A few’, he mutters, still staring down at his shoes. But I did notice him glimpsing furtively at the two floppies marked ‘Orchestral Stabs’ and ‘String Sections’. I was amused.

‘So what’s the name of your band?’ I ask.

‘Sueeaaaaayyyyyyyyyde’ he says, staring at me, possibly stoned out of his gourd, who can tell? The word lasted a long time. Then he looked at me as if I’d arrived from outer-space and I was his first human encounter. Now I was not so much puzzled as impressed, or a combination thereof. If I’m honest, my heart had stopped for a split second… Suede were a very big and very influential band at the time; many (including me) say a major influence on the likes of Blur, Pulp; Britpop in general. In fact Suede had already enjoyed mainstream success, critical acclaim in fact – and they were on to their second album. Of course I didn’t let on I knew much about them. Plus there was also the fact that I felt just a little bit sorry for this bedraggled urban waistrel. So I thought for a moment:

‘Oh yeh, I think I’ve heard of them.’ I said.

No response. I looked at him again, and realised that the tables had been turned. Now it was I who regarded him as the alien. He looked vaguely surprised that I hadn’t reacted to him with more reverence, but it was barely a flicker. This man was clearly on a mission. His eyes were deadset on his second album, and he clearly wanted to throw a few orchestras into the mix.

I now saw him for who he was – and I was puzzled no more. Bernard Butler was a bedraggled guitar wielding young rockstar – the real deal, yet seemingly unhappy and tortured-looking. I may have been wrong but that was certainly my impression.

I looked back at him and said goodbye. Again, zero eye contact. Finally, without much more ado, he shuffled back downstairs armed with his two floppies: ‘Orchestral Stabs’ and ‘String Section’ and stumbled past the door. Looking back I do believe that he’d forgotten to close it.

Such was the pre-Britpop scene, Gospel Oak/Belsize Park, North London, 1994.

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‘Hot Creations’ record label: home to the world’s top live DJ / producers.

Hot Creations record label featuring Lee Foss and Richy Ahmed; both global DJ/producer stars.

Jamie’s compadres Lee Foss and Richy Ahmed both later contacted me for keyboard/harmony/session help à la Jamie, before being waylaid by a blizzard of international festival and Ibiza club offers. They are all now at the top of the global dance music production tree. And there are connections there with Scarlett Etienne, with whom I’ve now worked on and off for over seven years.

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Lee Foss and friend

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They are all part of ‘Hot Creations‘, the label that Jamie started, which has set the standard for the modern Superstar DJ brand. The label is an enormous success now. Jamie’s weekly event in Ibiza, ‘Paradise’ is a go-to event in the dance music world.

And Jamie still tops the bill, see below, even a full six years on from his initial breakthrough.

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Boy, is it a lucrative business.

Without doubt, the money to be made in the music biz these days is certainly in the dance music production festival and elite club circuit (and not in the pop or rock star realm, which may surprise many).

But my-oh-my is it competitive…

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Spaceward Recording Studios, Cambridge, Summer 1986: the Julian Cope Dope Smoke incident.

Cast your minds back to Summer 1986. It’s the control room of the legendary Spaceward Studios in Cambridge www.spaceward.co.uk. I’d just turned seventeen and I was up there to record audio overdubs for my Mum’s animation film ‘Snow Magic’ for which I had composed the soundtrack. She knew Gary Lucas, one of the key producers and founders of the studio itself.
I was a very brief intern there, but oh my G-d, what a place, what an atmosphere, what talent everywhere I looked. Just being there had a big impact on me. It was a creative hub – and these people were both serious and talented yet seemed to maintain a matey confidence that was just beyond cool for my teenage mind. I’d been in studios before. Through my parents’ encouragement for my passion, I had already developed my own decent studio next to my mother’s animation editing room. I had a Fostex 1/4in A8 reel to reel multitrack and new Akai S900 sampler. I’d recorded a few local bands at my studio, but what I was witnessing was the real deal – on quite another level.
Everyone from The Stranglers to Iron Maiden to Teardrop Explodes to assorted new wave acts that I worshipped seemed to be drifting in and out, full of cool easy breezy banter. These were rock titans, of that there was no debate. Even the likes of Gary Numan and The Damned had been in recently and recorded there. Right in front of me were bona fide artists (and not the usual blaggers) recording exciting vocal and backing vocal overdubs, instrumental takes and creatively arranged parts, not to mention the original live takes. Was I wide-eyed? Yes. Did I want to let on? NO! As an Assistant Tape Op, I was hardly noticed anyway. Here’s a great anecdote from that period:

I wasn’t at the session, but the producer and assistant producer/sound engineer Gary Lucas had told me that there was a worrying issue festering. Apparently while Julian Cope was recording World Shut Your Mouth, he’d been smoking so much dope that the vents started emanating the sweet smell of refined marijuana which permeated all the grounds around the studio complex.
The studio manager and staff began to worry about the ramifications and possible imminent police presence!
While I was there I had the laborious task of shooting 100Hz, 1kHz and 10kHz sine wave signals through each of the 24 tracks into the giant reel to reel multitrack machine. It’s called calibrating and basically ensures that what you hear in playback is as close as possible to the audio going in being recorded live. This slowly spooling tape was two inches wide compared to the measly and hissy 1/4in tape in my home studio. It was basically like lasagne compared to my spaghetti.
I only ended up interning for four visits, mainly because I was London-based and it was a shlep. Plus I had A-levels to think about in the Autumn. My brief job title? Assistant Tape Operator. Only four visits, but what a creative revelation…

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The Pigalle Club, Piccadilly

Very excited that Sadie and I will be opening at The Pigalle Club in Piccadilly on Friday 5th April at around 7.45pm. Check out this amusing link: The Beatles played there in 1963 (not to mention Dusty Springfield etc.

http://www.beatlesbible.com/1963/04/21/live-pigalle-club-london/

zara-pigalle

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Legendary compere, promoter and long time friend and collaborator: Camden Town’s very own Zaid Joseph

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Zaid in full flow

The one person with whom I’ve collaborated that has meant more to me than any of my famous collaborators or dance music clients is Zaid Joseph.

Zaid’s a very successful promoter. Many say that he is THE most influential promoter in Camden Town and beyond.

He has compered the likes of The Maccabees, Babyshambles, Jack Penate as well as The Grumbleweeds'(!) careers. In fact

Zaid collaborated with Andy Boyd, former manager of Sophie Ellis Bextor. It was she who made quite a splash during the Covid 19 lockdown from late March 2020 up to around February 2021) from her disco kitchen in Brighton. She’s married to The Libertines (Pete Doherty, Kate Moss’s former flame as well as talented musician Carl Barat) as well as their subsequent incarnation, Babyshambles.

Andy Boyd is the former manager of The Libertines (Pete Doherty) and their next incarnation, Babyshambles. He also managed popstar Sophie Ellis Bextor, now famous for performing disco numbers in her Brighton front room during the Covid lockdowns.

Zaid in full flow

But far more importantly, Zaid has introduced burgeoning talented young musicians to the London live scene. Without Zaid, much music would have remained unheard; so much talent untapped.

Gigging is a way of life. A bug that all creative musicians never want to give up. It’s far far more than a route to fame and fortune. And Zaid is the embodiment of that ethic.

The gigs he promotes and comperes are the real deal. No school or church halls here.

A former Butlins bluecoat, Zaid has fostered talent like no other, and not just within the Camden music hothouse. He’s involved in promoting live events in venues in London’s West End and beyond.

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Together over the last eight years, we have joined forces to give my talented BEAT and Woodhouse students, as well as top young talent from Camden, Brent, Enfield and Haringey, the same opportunities. With no backing tapes, voice manipulation, Autotune or nightmare X-Factor-style karaoke blandness.

Its been an inspiring partnership for me. The venues we have used have been Bar Vinyl, Bar Solo and, later, Bayou. These venues are right opposite Camden Town tube in Inverness Street. Prior to that, I used the Music Palace in Crouch End where I live. Its now the trendy new indie cinema, The Arthouse.

Here’s a promo shot for Zaid’s Vinyl gigs:

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So much young BEAT talent has passed through Bar Vinyl, never mind Camden Proud, not to mention The Pigalle Club. In fact, me and a talented vocalist Sadie Alleyne, played the venue; the first time it had opened or hosted a gig since The Beatles, yes The Beatles, performed there.

Following these smaller gigs, and if the young pups can handle it, they’ll move on to Camden Proud (see below). But they have to be good as its a more prestigious venue.

CamdenProud

For several years, Zaid and I had been presenting the ‘Amped’ showcase which is always an inspiring afternoon and evening of excitement, creativity and flair. A new younger generation of North London music talent gets to enjoy the thrill of performing. This is how it should be.

Here’s to another eight years Zaid!

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The sartorial Zaid. A combination of Victorian dandy and comic menace. Zaid Joseph: Camden Inverness Street legend. He makes us all Proud.
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Upcoming gigs at The Pigalle Club in Piccadilly, Bar Vinyl and Bar Solo in Camden Town

Danny will be performing and then accompanying Sadie at upcoming gigs in Piccadilly and Camden Town in the next 2 months.

Watch this space!

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Blog #3: Danny And The Stone Roses

This brief blog is about my (very brief) meeting with very talented, very successful and very influential Manchester band, The Stone Roses. So why were The Stone Roses so important? Was theirs the best debut album of all time? For me, it’s a no-brainer. I did an earlier blog about it which includes the anecdote I’ve dined out on a fair few times. Here it is:

‘The Stone Roses’ is one of the best debut albums of all time, if not the best. The tragedy for this talented and hugely influential band was that their full potential was never realised. Yet, looking back, it hardly matters. They had more influence with a single album than virtually any other band in history. Britpop almost certainly wouldn’t have happened without them. And don’t take my word for it, just ask Noel Gallagher! Yet still, that is only just the very start of it…

In the pantheon of successful contemporary Manchester rock acts, the Roses were preceded by The Smiths, tagged along with by The Happy Mondays, and then followed by Oasis – yet they still managed to outshine them all with their musicality, integrity and originality, and this only having released two EPs and two studio albums. Their cultural impact is far-reaching.

The Stone Roses took the best of the Beatles (circa Revolver), The Byrds, The Hollies and The Moody Blues, and combined it with the heritage and attitude of Manchester’s burgeoning late 1970s Joy Division/New Order/The Smiths triumvirate. They then broke through to success with sheer hard graft, focus, talent and great songwriting. In the process, they defined late 1980s and early 1990s British rock n roll at its very best.

As a Middlesex Polytechnic student in the late ‘80s, I should know. One of their seminal gigs was at our Trent Park Student Union Tuesday night indie band slot. I was the sound man, the PA guy who made sure that the band soundchecked and sounded, well, sort of half-decent. It so happened that I had the Tuesday night off when they performed their famous Middx Poly 1988 gig. Sod’s law – but I did soundcheck these surly Mancs earlier in the day. Later, while I was waiting for the bus outside the venue and relieved to have the night off, I heard them start the gig. I went inside and said to the sound guy on duty:

‘These guys aren’t the usual shoegazers. They’re f******g brilliant.’

I was proved right – big time.

Persistence, sheer graft and innate talent are so often the deciding factors in rock music, probably the sexiest of the sexy arty industries. The Beatles, Stones, The Who, Led Zeppelin and The Red Hot Chili Peppers’ careers define that work ethic. Their lives and relationships tell of alluring buccaneering tales of rock excess. These are some of the most exciting real-life stories of our times.

But even still, I can’t think of a band that epitomised this steely determination to ‘make it’ more than the Stone Roses.

I worked for a short while as a junior tape op at Cambridge’s legendary Spaceward Studios in 1985/6. It was a lowly position and I was very young, only 16, but the whole experience gave me an intoxicating taste of the sonic possibilities that can come out of fiddling for hours with mics, leads and amps. If that wasn’t enough, seeing the bands and personalities I’d loved so much coming in and out of the control booth was the credibility icing on the cake. On a technical level, I learned at first hand how understanding the nitty gritty of audio production is as important as any high fallutin’ grand schemes of creating a masterpiece.

Manchester has a reputation for no-nonsense bravado, no-holds-barred authenticity, hard work and zero b*****t, musical or otherwise. Heaven knows I could relate to that at the time as a rock and jazz musician zealot during the 1980s. I threw myself into every creative possibility, whether healthy or not, from around 1987. I could relate to Ian Brown and John Squire’s moody, singleminded and monosyllabic interviews which showed total contempt for their hapless interviewers. These encounters make The Sex Pistols’ Bill Grundy encounter look tame. They’d already been relentlessly touring the university gigging circuit with little to show for it. But persistence paid off. Eventually they secured a deal and went into London’s Battery Studios to record the album. It was their very good fortune to have John Leckie producing the record. A former Abbey Road tape-op who worked with the likes of John Lennon and Pink Floyd, Leckie had also produced XTC earlier and then Radiohead later after the Roses. His production on that album is nothing short of stunning. As anyone who has ever worked in a recording studio knows, amping up guitars or a drum kit, sorting multiple mic positions, achieving the right acoustics for the track, or whether to use a condenser or dynamic mic close up or at distance; this is all a creative enterprise in its own right – and Leckie is one of it’s masters.

So it’s just as well that John Squire, the Rose’s guitarist, Alan Wren, their drummer and Mani the bassist made the most of the sonic palette that Leckie handed them. It helped that they were great songwriters too.

Squire, who also designed the cover, is a brilliant lead guitarist, more bluesy and smooth than his Beatles-influenced, jangly contemporary Johnny Marr of The Smiths, but in my view certainly as talented. These two guitarists defined the Manchester guitar sound of the ‘80s and early ‘90s and left it for the more pedestrian Noel Gallagher to pad it out later in the early days of Britpop. If The Smiths were Marks & Spencer and the Stone Roses were Waitrose, then Oasis were Tesco.

Ian Brown is surely one of the most charismatic frontmen in rock history too. Both Gallaghers, The Charlatan’s Tim Burgess and countless other Britpop vocalist goons aped him. There is no pun intended here as Brown is a simian stoned rock zombie made incarnate. I got a brief taste of that during the soundcheck. And what made it all even more convincing was the lack of pretence. He really was like that – or at least that was my recollection when I was watching them from across the mixing desk that Tuesday afternoon before the gig at Trent Park.

Furthermore, in Mani and Ren, the band had one of the best rhythm sections (bass and drums) that rock music has produced. Its not overblown to say that it helped define the sound of a generation, the direct influence and musical integrity behind everything that Britpop was. As usual, Noel Gallagher is nothing if not honest about his plagiarism. He always defers to John Lennon and the Stone Roses. They are the giants’ shoulders that he so reverently sits upon. He even named an Oasis album after this. While humility isn’t Gallagher’s strongest suit, no one can deny that he fully acknowledges his musical heritage.

So The Stone Roses defined the musical landscape of the time, bridging The Smiths’ miserabilism but musical virtuosity with the acid house drum looping and sampling remix culture also developing at the time. The Second Summer Of Love, 1987, only happened two years before the record came out, and ecstasy-tinged remixes of early songs like ‘Sally Cinnamon’ and ‘Elephant Stone’ were emerging. Again, Gallagher has since said that listening to the former was the catalyst that set his mind on making a living as a rock musician.

And the rest is history. The ‘Madchester’ scene and sound – that neo-psychedelic guitar fusion with the dance music of the day was invented by the Roses having served their time gigging in the Manchester warehouse parties of the day. There were also the baggy fashions which these four charismatic guys pulled off so well. The Roses were the ‘yin’ to the Happy Monday’s ‘yang’. But nothing comes easy in rock. All of the above followed inevitably from the early struggles laid out. Sadly, a terrible legal wrangling over later release rights with their Silvertone label ensued. This severely delayed the release of the second album. By that time, the excitement was all over. The Second Coming album still contained great songs though: ‘Ten Storey Love Song’ and the blisteringly brilliant ‘Love Spreads’. If you do nothing else after reading this review, take a listen to this song. How many guitarists could actually play that Squire part? Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page, I’m even looking at you. It sums up the Roses rock supremacy and why they deservedly garner so much kudos and respect.

Oh, and I haven’t even mentioned Spike Island, a gig so legendary as to rival the best of the Woodstock, Monterey and Altamont festivals.

So to those unfortunate uninitiated souls who think of The Stone Roses merely as a ‘one album band’: you don’t know the half, or even the quarter of it.

Some bands can do more with one record than ten careers worth of audio blather.

Here’s my track by track for the album’s key moments:

1. ‘She Bangs The Drums’: Lust while admiring a talented female drummer? I hear where you’re coming from there Ian…but add a whole lot of Byrds harmonies, Squire’s arpreggiated Marr-esque riffing, as well as a surprisingly detailed song structure and you hear in a single track everything that The Byrds themselves wished they’d sounded like.

2. ‘Waterfall’: For techie musos, this track is all about a repeated distorted riff. But as usual, the vocal harmonies make it stand apart from their pedestrian contemporaries. Not to mention several unexpectedly great Squire bridge sections and interludes and the studied cool of Brown’s vocal. This one’s also about a guy longing for the apple of his eye; ‘she’s a waterfall’.

3. ‘Bye Bye Bad Man’: This is what the very best of 1960s pop would sound like, transposed to virtually any future decade. It’s a relatively throwaway track but still contains unflustered tempo changes that other bands would never have the musicality or songwriting skills to pull off. Just like ‘I Am The Resurrection’, the lyrical theme is pent up anger at a strict father figure or rival. The Roses never compromised on moving away from their Mancunian accents. Further grist to the Brown credibility crown.

3. ‘Made Of Stone’: The intro could be a Pink Floyd intro. The chord sequence and bassline on this song are nothing short of exquisite. Leckie brings out their best here by highlighting the song’s natural rhythm with unfussy production. The chorus upwards key change for this track is one of the most uplifting in modern rock music.

4. ‘I Am The Resurrection’ is the most convincing song about revenge and anger I’ve ever heard. It packs an emotional wallop but then pulls back – just at the right points, over and over. It’s their career song highlight. The relentless snare is uncompromising. The extended guitar solo at the end would never have happened without Leckie’s Pink Floyd credentials I feel sure (but stand to be corrected). The overdubs are perfect and well judged.

5. ‘Fools Gold’ typifies the neo-psychedelic sound that they helped fashion. As a result, the song hasn’t aged as well as some of the others. The trippy dayglo music vid of the four of them wandering aimlessly around the stark countryside is very 1989. For techie nerds, the psychedelic effect is created by combining flange and wah-wah guitar effects, as well as applying a whole lotta reverb to the bass guitar and snare.

Sometimes people are in the right place at the right time. At other times, they’re at almost the right place at almost the right time. Such is the case with my Stone Roses encounter. The year was 1988 or 1989, I can’t remember. But I do know that I was studying a BA (Hons) in Performing Arts at the then-Middlesex Polytechnic, now Middlesex University.

I occasionally used to supervise the mixing desk at the Tuesday night Student Union band nights. This is a sound check @3pm. It ensures that the band sounds as good as they can; remember that if they just showed up and played, the audio would be a total shambles and most would be heading for the bus home. Anyway, we were accustomed to the usual shoe-gazers; the indie bands that would turn up week after week; about as much talent as a fart in the wind. But on this one occasion, having finished the soundcheck, I was pleasantly (nay shocked) to hear something not only melodic, but positively a revelation.

It was around 10pm. I was waiting to catch the Snakes Lane bus back to Oakwood tube station in North London when I heard something that was genuinely musical emanating in a distorted hush via the SU bar. Yes, you guessed it, I was caught by The Stone Roses playing what has turned out to be a seminal gig just prior to the release of their self-titled first record The Stone Roses, IMHO the best debut rock album of all time.

Anyway…

It’s a story I’ve dined out on many a time when people ask me who I’ve worked with (albeit for just one gig in the late eighties).

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#18: Treasured studio kit

Keyboard-based recording studio in the heart of Camden Town

My ‘kit’ or studio setup was on the floor below. I was proud to own two stacked synthesisers, one a digital FM synth, usually something like a Yamaha DX-7, the sounds of which really did shape the sound of eighties pop music. The other was an analog synth, for example a Roland Juno-106 or Minimoog. (I’d sold my wonderful Roland JX-3P with PG1000 controller in 1992. Bad move). I also had some rack mounts, rectangular metal units you must all have seen at gigs. Lots of knobs, sliders and buttons. At the time it was an orange Emulator rack which suited post rave-style sound popular at the time. It was basically the kit that enabled me to make Orbital or The Orb-style dance music which all sounds very dated now, especially in the ultra-fast moving and creative world of modern dane music. It had arpeggiated synth lines and proto-sampled beats, certainly not the cookie-cutter identikit loops available on tap now at the click of a mouse. I also had a Quadraverb GT, a multi-fx unit which I still have. It was particularly effective because the GT (guitar) included a guitar preamp that could even make the most basic sine wave synth sound like they’d been overdriven through about five stacked Marshall amps. I was proud also to own Yamaha SPX-90 reverb. My dad had bought this for me in 1983 when I was fourteen. This was the standard echo (reverb) unit used at live music and theatre venues. Anyway, all this kit was very very sexy to us musicians. There is a name for the likes of us: we are ‘gear sluts’. There’s even a great website worth checking out called www.gearslutz.com all about us saddos. We would be constantly exchanging and upgrading our kit, primarily via the advertising papers Exchange & Mart as well as Loot, where I worked one day a week copytaking and met some lifelong friends. 

Anyway, my pièce de resistance was my Akai S900 sampler. It was one of the very first to be imported into the country which made me very proud. My late father bought it for me in 1984 when I was fifteen. He always supported me in every creative endeavour I ever pursued, as did my super-creative cool and artistic animator/artist/lecturer mum.

Danny Kuperberg playing piano in the studio, Feb 2021. This shot was taken from the PianoDanny online shows performed during all three Lockdowns from March 2020. Over 600 original piano arrangements were performed from requests sent by online friends. Each show lasted around three hours every morning and seventy eight shows were performed. The aggregate view count was above 800k.
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Blog #8: The Beatles’ best album: Rubber Soul

This is the best Beatles album – but it’s close.

Again, it’s a ‘turning point’ album, and for me, those are always the best. The wide angle ‘fish-eye’ lens shot of them presages the oncoming psychedelia that they led, but that is only the very start.

It’s illuminating that George Harrison, the lead guitarist, said that Rubber Soul and Revolver were a 1965/66 blur. This was around the time that The Beatles were forced to stop touring due to unstoppable hysteria and fan mayhem. I hesitate to say this, but I will. An actual issue for venue staff was clearing the urine off the seats; such was the frenetic and uncontrolled release of emotion, predominantly female of course. Was this a pent up release following the ‘50s straight-laced stifling convention? It was the projection of unrestrained optimism and possibility onto four talented lads from Liverpool. Here were four funny, charismatic and musically gifted scousers. The USA had never seen it’s like before – and they were spellbound. In those days, just visiting America was a badge of adventurous honour for Brits. I remember travelling down the Florida coast in ‘79 and being in thrall to McDonalds, Kentucky Fried Chicken and Wendy’s drive-throughs along the freeway. Never mind seeing an ‘X’ rated Jaws in a drive-in – a long way from the Edgware Odeon or the Harrow Weald Granada let me tell you!

So there was a reciprocal sharing of British and American culture, so so different during the ‘60s and on into the ‘70s than the differences appear now.

Rubber Soul was a 1965 album, a follow-up to the Help soundtrack. Many critics posit that the Help album was The Beatles’ weakest album. I completely agree. And nobody was prepared for the inventiveness and musicality of Rubber Soul.

Much of this competitiveness and one-upmanship comes from McCartney, the most driven and most talented musician of all. But he was not the leader. The soul of The Beatles was John Lennon, his perfect foil – and this is as much a Lennon album as a McCartney album; probably the last in which Lennon’s musicality and melodic inventiveness truly shine. He was soon back to his rock n roll roots and resenting McCartney’s stylistic experimentation.

Rubber Soul is the album that introduces more traditional musical genres into rock music than any other album in history. No other album before or since comes close. People point out that The Beatles were aping the jangly guitar sound that The Byrds tagged on to Dylan’s Mr Tambourine Man. That’s true, but as usual, the Beatles didn’t just surpass the competition, they obliterated it – and then set the bar so high that they looked over other bands from a creative Mount Olympus. Anyone who says they don’t like The Beatles is basically saying that they don’t like rock music. Either that, or they’re stuck in 1963 ‘She Loves You’ moptop mode and haven’t a clue about 1964, 1966, 1968, 1970. This is a controversial statement but I strongly believe it true.

The opener is ‘Drive My Car’. The guitar solo is fluid and easy. George Harrison was a tasteful guitarist who never played too much. He struggled to get a songwriting look-in, was given a track an album to write, yet would have been a superstar solo creative force in his own right, except he had the misfortune to be the understudy of the greatest songwriting partnership of all time. On Rubber Soul he wrote ‘Think For Yourself’, a stepping stone track which shows his developing harmonic awareness. Harrison later proves his songwriting prowess to stunning effect with ‘Something’, ‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps’, ‘Here Comes The Sun’ and the biggest selling solo album following The Beatles dissolution, ‘All Things Must Pass’. He wrote ‘Taxman’ with its extraordinary guitar solo, which opened their next album Revolver.

‘Drive My Car’ is a hard-edged bluesy number with a stunning solo using revolutionary backwards guitar motifs. The likes of Oasis, Blur and countless other Britpop acts copied the Taxman and Drive My Car template. The Jam did it shamelessly on their late ‘70s single ‘Start’. Noel Gallagher was even more brazen in his ripping off of Beatles motifs, riffs and general attitude. The Stone Roses were one of the more musically successful and convincing bands of the late eighties who were strongly influenced by The Beatles. They took these ideas and make them their own on their self-titled debut.

Only avant-garde composers like Stockhausen, Cage and Boulez had used backward tape loops and ‘musique concrète’ techniques before, but George Martin and The Beatles introduced them into pop music. George’s solo on Revolver’s ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’ takes this onto a fresher yet more experimental plateau.

Then there follows ‘Norwegian Wood’ and ‘Nowhere Man’. Any decent vocalist knows how difficult it is to sustain three-part-harmony with two others over a minute, let alone three. But ‘Nowhere Man’ sounds effortless – and The Beatles could pull it off live too. They proved it in their final 1966 gigs, even though they could barely hear themselves play. Remember that the Stones had one lead singer – and the blues dominated their sound. The Beatles could do the blues easily – and they had not one but three lead singers.

Following all of this is ‘Norwegian Wood’. It’s so lyrically inventive and unexpected. The Beatles were now translating their personal flings and relationships into early art-rock experimentation. So typically Lennon. His lyrics sometimes make even Spike Milligan’s monologues and short stories seem pedestrian.

Next is ‘Michelle’, a 1965 pop song in the tradition of French chanson. Absolutely unheard of, but a testament to McCartney’s effortless flitting from genre to genre as well as his melodic and harmonic invention.

On a personal level, I remember playing this song in French bars, restaurants and later clubs in the Côte d’Azur, both as a kid and later into my twenties. The French adore this kind of stuff; a complement to include French lyrics onto ‘Le rock anglaise’. It appeals to that ‘amour’ romantic wistfulness that they hold so dear to their hearts. Of course the Beatles were singing their hits in different languages before this anyway. ‘Sie Liebt Dich’ (She Loves You), was sung in German two years earlier

All of this is what happens when four exceptionally talented and charismatic musicians come together at the right place, at the right time.

‘Girl’ is another example of slowly delivered three part harmonies. It’s a beautiful melody, and this album represents the closing periods when Lennon and McCartney would write together. In fact about half the songs were written by one or the other by their own accounts. However the cumulative creative fusion still shines through.

‘In My Life’ is possibly one of the most affecting and moving Beatles songs of all. It’s a Lennon song and you can hear him openly sharing his feelings about his tragic past. His mother Julia being run over in front of his eyes, his kindred art school soulmate Stuart Sutcliffe dying in his early twenties in Hamburg where The Beatles honed their craft in seedy Reeperbahn strip joints.

Paul McCartney, as he has openly admitted, was in many ways very lucky. He had a stable upbringing. A musician father and a loving doting mother Mary who died when Paul was 14 (thanks for that Fred Fact from Alastair Romanes!) She was the ‘Mother Mary’ in the song ‘Let It Be’.

John Lennon had anything but an easy adolescence. I believe that it is through their radically different upbringings and circumstances that they bonded.

Musically, ‘In My Life’ contains a harpsichord solo, a baroque ground-bass accompaniment that is pulled off elegantly. Much of this orchestration is thanks to producer George Martin’s classical sensibility. He brings it to the fore in Revolver’s ‘Eleanor Rigby’ string quartet accompaniment.

The remaining four tracks remind me of the later Revolver’s overarching vibe; penetrating melodic rock music that was to presage the most groundbreaking album of them all, Seargent Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.

The public couldn’t understand what had happened to The Beatles. Why the delay in releasing a new record? Why over seven months between Revolver and Pepper? Nowadays, the likes of Coldplay are considered prolific when they release an album every two years. The Beatles broke ground consistently every six months.

This is my favourite Beatles album because never did a band compose such timeless music so convincingly. There will never be another band to touch them. Not in the past nor the present nor the future. Enthralled listeners a hundred years on will attest to this – of that I’ve no doubt

Categories
Gigs, news and blog

Blog #6: Zac Laurence

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  1. Zac Laurence
  2. Spaceward Studios
  3. Simon Morgan
Danny, aged 16, in his home studio, Summer 1985.

Danny’s musical life has been shaped by three experiences:

  1. Taking a course of six piano lessons with professional pianist Zac Laurence aged 11
  2. My friendship and songwriting collaboration with Simon Morgan during the synthesiser-fuelled days of 1982 – 1984. This was the synthpop era that established the careers of the likes of Depeche Mode, The Human League, Heaven 17; even Spandau Ballet and Duran Duran. We longed for Sequential Circuits Prophet 5s, for Roland Jupiter 6s – and if we could afford it, which we couldn’t, Jupiter 8s. To say this was a sexy era of music technology would be a gross understatement. Anyway, we would write songs in UCS’s ‘crypt’, an underground opportunity for wannabe public school cricketeers to show their wares. So we came up with ’Coming Home’. And Simon’s brother, another Morgan, collaborated with a McVey, who at Matrix Studios, was responsible for another of the great album debuts of all time: the genre-defining Bristol trip-hop’s Massive Attack’s Blue Lines with it’s stunning Unfinished Symphony finale; up there with The Beatles’ Tomorrow Never Knows as an album finale. And Simon helped mix the strings on Unfinished Sympathy to my eternal envy…
  3. Spaceward Studios. Having composed the soundtrack to my mother’s ‘Snow Magic’ animation film, I was lucky enough to head up to Cambridge where this wonderful studio was based. I did a few sessions as Assistant Tape Op – basically calibrating the 24 track reel to reel tape machine. Just putting sine waves at 1k Hz through the system to make sure that the sound that went in was the same that went out. To say I was a wide-eyed teen would be a gross understatement (but I played it cool; or at least I tried). With the likes of The Stranglers and Julian Cope hanging around, who wouldn’t be. Suddenly my heroes came to life.