It was ten years to the day that I published my inaugural articles for movingtheriver, pieces on Prefab Sprout, Marcus Miller/Miles Davis, Peter Gabriel , Keith LeBlanc, Prince and Level 42.
The site was a few years in the planning but really only became a reality during an enforced period of reclusion via illness.
Anyone who sets up a project as a labour of love knows how quickly it becomes both a lifeline and passion. Over the past ten years, it’s also been great fun sharing stories and opinions with readers, writers, musicians and bloggers alike.
I’m not sure what the future holds for the site. Substack and YouTube beckon and WordPress has its issues (some of you may have mistakenly been sent a test post by the WP backroom bods recently…).
But the keyword is enjoyment. So hope to see you in ten years…
Pop musicians make comebacks all the time – in jazz or jazz/rock, it’s almost unheard of.
Reading King Crimson/Yes/Genesis/Earthworks drum legend Bill Bruford’s fine autobiography, there was no doubt he’d had his fill of the music business when he officially retired from performance on 1 January 2009 (his last headlining gig took place the previous July).
Away from the kit, in recent years he’s achieved a PhD from the University of Surrey, curated an excellent YouTube channel and released the occasional reissue or compilation, the latest of which is The Best of Bill Bruford.
But, as they say in sporting circles, you’re a long time retired. So it’s thrilling to report that Bruford is making tentative steps back to public performance – in a recent interview he described his return to playing as ‘explosive, unexpected, and very sudden’.
He turned up at the John Wetton tribute gig last year, performing ‘Let’s Stick Together’ alongside Phil Manzanera and Chris Difford, and now he’s joined up with his old drum tech, German ex-pat guitarist Pete Roth, plus bassist (usually on acoustic but here on electric) Mike Pratt, for some low-key trio gigs.
His recent show at the 606 was the busiest your correspondent had seen Chelsea’s treasured jazz club for years. Roth’s website describes his music as ‘jazz without borders’, and it’s a pretty good summary – they generally avoid fusion clichés like the plague, sounding more like John Abercrombie’s organ trio than anything Bruford recorded with Allan Holdsworth.
His kit was a return to his youth – two tom-toms, angled snare, two cymbals. And he still has that prodigious, propulsive technique on the hi-hats and ride cymbal, even if his snare drum no longer particularly has that distinctive ‘clang’.
‘Billie’s Bounce’ featured Bruford’s trademark figures between the tom-toms and snare drum, and Roth’s organ patch and octave pedal were a novel touch. ‘How Insensitive’ developed from a freeform rubato opening into an Abercrombie-esque mood-jazz piece, though Pratt’s strident bass seemed a little out of place.
‘If Summer Had Its Ghosts’, first recorded by Bruford with Eddie Gomez and Ralph Towner, meshed odd-time fun with the blues, Roth’s guitar at its more Scofield-like. ‘Summertime’ came with a tricky vamp which Pratt and Roth rushed somewhat – never a problem for Bruford, while a section from Dvořák’s Symphony No. 9 was a slowburn success. Meanwhile band composition ‘Trio of Five’ (or was it ‘Fun’?) was another attractive if a little harmonically inert, vamp-based piece in their favourite 5/4.
Though there were times when Bruford seems to have lost a little of the fluidity of old, it seems churlish to judge a performance thus when the performer and loyal crowd are having so much fun.
The trio play at the Oxford Spin club later this month, and for some other selected dates next year – don’t miss. What an unexpected pleasure to see Bruford back.
Every post-1971 British crime movie has had ‘Get Carter’ and ‘Performance’ in its rearview mirror.
Made in summer 1979 but not released until 18 months later, ‘The Long Good Friday’ (original title: ‘The Paddy Factor’) has often been mentioned in the same breath as ‘Carter’. Is that justified?
Initially bankrolled by legendary impresario and producer Lew Grade, it was written by proper East Ender Barrie Keeffe (who reportedly knew Ronnie Kray), directed by Scotsman John Mackenzie and starred Brit acting ‘royalty’ Bob Hoskins and Helen Mirren.
When completed, the suits almost refused it a cinema run, deeming it too nasty, hoping to recut it and farm it out to television. A disgusted Mirren asked her friend Eric Idle to attend the premiere at the London Film Festival towards the end of 1980.
Idle was impressed and passed it on to his mate George Harrison, the main moneyman at newly-formed HandMade films. Harrison apparently loathed it but agreed it had hit potential. HandMade bought it for £700,000, funded by ‘Life Of Brian’ profits.
But how does ‘The Long Good Friday’ stack up in 2024? I watched the posh new 4K restoration – looks fabulous, but this film really belongs in a mid-’80s Cannon fleapit. With its casual racism/sexism/ableism and overlong dialogue scenes, it’s also now more redolent of ‘Sweeney!’, ‘The Squeeze’ and ‘Villiain’ than ‘Performance’ or ‘Get Carter’ – but is still fascinating and memorable.
There’s some real Brit nastiness, or ‘virtuoso viciousness’, as Pauline Kael called it in her ‘Carter’ review. Mackenzie comes up with three or four memorable set pieces (and a great final five minutes, apparently the first thing they shot, during which apparently the director drove the car and ‘fed’ Hoskins the entire plot of the film) which have given the movie legs. He also uses the London locations with some elan.
Keeffe comes up with some preposterously funny lines – ‘It’s like Belfast on a bad day!’ etc. – and Francis ‘Sky’ Monkman’s disco/prog/fusion score adds value. There’s also an amazing array of ‘Hey, it’s that guy/girl!’ actors, from Pierce Brosnan (whose swimming pool scene seems to have influenced Bronksi Beat’s ‘Smalltown Boy’ vid) to Gillian Taylforth.
Sadly though the key performance by Derek Thompson (Charlie in ‘Casualty’!) weighs the film down with its stoned insouciance and dodgy London accent (ironically, Thompson was born in Belfast).
And though some have compared Hoskins with Edward G Robinson and James Cagney (Keeffe apparently pictured a cockney Humphrey Bogart!), despite some amusing line readings these days he comes across more like Alan Sugar after a few too many espressos, whereas Michael Caine in ‘Carter’ had a kind of timeless, glacial rage.
Apparently under the influence of ‘Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels’, Empire magazine – astonishingly – voted ‘The Long Good Friday’ the #1 greatest British film in a 2000 poll. Hard to think it would get that accolade today. Still, it’s a fascinating snapshot of London on the brink of Thatcher’s decade, and a must-see for fans of 1980s cinema.
When you think of 1980s pop music, which drum sounds come to mind?
They’re probably pretty loud and the infamous gated snare possibly looms large: ‘Let’s Dance’, ‘In The Air Tonight’, ‘Hey Mickey’, ‘Uptown Girl’, ‘A Town Called Malice’, ‘Born In The USA’.
But there’s a whole alternative world of 1980s hits where the drummer played very quietly, with brushes rather than sticks. Stuff like Buddy Holly’s ‘Raining In My Heart’, The Beatles’ ‘When I’m 64’ and Lou Reed’s ‘Walk On The Wild Side’ probably laid down the gauntlet, but you can’t imagine any producers or focus groups demanding that the drummer play brushes to create a hit (and when was the last hit that featured brushes?).
Here are some classic 1980s singles that somehow got away with it (all chart placings from the UK).
10. Echo & the Bunnymen: ‘Killing Moon’
Powered by Pete de Freitas’s subtle and unexpected brushwork, the classic single got all the way to #9 in early 1984.
9. George Michael: ‘Kissing A Fool’
The seventh and final single from Faith, written back in 1984, reached the top 20 and was initially mooted to be the title track of that 1987 album. Session player Ian Thomas, soon to play with everyone from Robbie Williams to Scott Walker, overdubbed some brushes on the snare after first recording a pass with sticks.
8. The Cure: ‘The Lovecats’
This stand-alone single was also the band’s first top ten hit, peaking at #7 in October 1983. Drummer Andy Anderson began his career with Hawkwind’s Nik Turner and Steve Hillage, then ended up on Robert Smith and Steve Severin’s The Glove side project. He found himself recording this song in Paris then joined the band for a year, playing on 1984 album The Top and playing brushes on another B-side, ‘Speak My Language’. He then toured with Iggy Pop throughout 1987. Anderson died in 2019.
7. Alison Moyet: ‘That Ole Devil Called Love’
This stand-alone single reached a heady #2 during March 1985, produced by ’18 With A Bullet’ singer Pete Wingfield. But who’s the drummer? Answers on a postcard please.
6. Robert Wyatt: ‘Shipbuilding’
Not much is known about drummer Martin Hughes, but he did a nice job on this classic single which reached #35 in April 1983.
5. Chris Rea: ‘Driving Home For Christmas’
Written in 1978, it was originally intended for Van Morrison. Rea first recorded it as a B-side to the 1986 single ‘Hello Friend’, with drummer Dave Mattacks playing almost with a country feel. But the most famous version features on Rea’s 1988 New Light Through Old Windows compilation album with drums by Martin Ditcham, best known for his percussion work.
4. Chris Isaak: ‘Wicked Game’
Kenney Dale Johnson played some very subtle drums on this classic single released in July 1989, going on to become a huge sleeper hit in the US and UK.
3. Elton John: ‘Blue Eyes’
Recorded at AIR Studios in Montserrat, this touching ballad was the lead-off single from John’s Jump Up! album, reaching the top ten in 1982. The very slow 6/8 groove was beautifully marshalled by Jeff Porcaro. See also Toto’s ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ and Ray Charles’ ‘Still Crazy After All These Years’ for some classic Porcaro brushwork.
2. Fairground Attraction: ‘Perfect’
It reached UK #1 in May 1988 – is it the only chart-topper to feature a drummer playing brushes? London jazzer Roy Dodds did the honours on this.
1. Rain Tree Crow: ‘Blackwater’
Cheating a bit here. It wasn’t released until 1991 but was recorded in December 1989 at Chateau Miraval in Southern France. It was the reformed Japan’s only single, reaching #62. In the band biography ‘Cries And Whispers’, drummer Steve Jansen makes the remarkable claim that his whole performance was pieced together using samples. Weird…
Any other 1980s hits that feature brushes? Drop us a line below.
Though the American guitarist’s 1980s sonic explorations with the likes of John Zorn, Power Tools and on solo albums such as Before We Were Born are long gone, Frisell’s fascinating (and much quieter) late-career boom continues abound.
He’s a regular visitor to the Big Smoke but, revelling in his newfound freedom at Blue Note Records, this Cadogan Hall gig felt like his most ‘jazz’ outing for years.
That’s chiefly due to the presence of A-list collaborators, in concert and on recent album Four: Gerald Clayton on piano, Gregory Tardy on various reed instruments and Johnathan Blake on drums. Close readers will notice one word notable by its absence: bass. It’s a credit to Frisell that the instrument wasn’t really missed here, nor did he or Clayton particularly resort to vamps to make up for the absent low-end.
Consequently, the meticulously arranged and rehearsed set, strongly foregrounding collective improvisation, had a lovely ‘floating’ atmosphere. (Two touchstones may be Louis Armstrong’s Hot Five and The Jimmy Guiffre 3, the latter of course featuring Frisell hero Jim Hall on guitar.)
Themes came and went, with many segues. Somewhat sombre recent compositions such as ‘Waltz For Hal Willner’ and ‘Claude Utley’ – both named for recently departed friends of Frisell – bumped up against familiar pieces such as Paul Motian’s ‘Conception Vessel’ (taken at a very leisurely clip) and Bacharach/David’s ‘What The World Needs Now’, as well as two fast bebop-style heads which nodded to Ornette Coleman (though the Monk-ish treat ‘Holiday’ was sadly missing).
In short, it was business as usual for Frisell, who unapologetically places melody at the heart of everything he does, whether playing ‘60s pop, country, avant-garde or bebop. Hall really does seem to be his totem these days, though he still knows when to add disconcertingly witty moments of found sounds and dissonant loops via his pedal board.
And while the ensemble occasionally felt like it was kept on unusually tight leash, Clayton added much-needed harmonic colour and elaborate flourishes, touching variously on stride piano, systems music and glorious call-and-response lines reaching back to Tatum and Hines. Tardy brought the blues feeling, laying down three or four fantastic solos, while Blake – the man with the lowest drum set in the world, barely above his knees – played at a perfect volume in the very boomy Cadagon Hall, and with great taste.
All in all, this quartet has legs. One would hope they could gather for another album on Blue Note, and we might get another enjoyable gig like this too. The standing ovation seemed to come as quite a surprise to this most modest master of the electric guitar.
As the male solo artist with the most weeks on the UK singles chart during 1984, it’s not surprising Nik Kershaw is celebrating that year with a lengthy European tour, playing his two top 10 albums Human Racing and The Riddle in their entirety.
He’s still able to command big audiences for his solo gigs, and with good reason – his vocals are if anything much improved since his mid-‘80s heyday and his songs are built to last, with their bold melodies, crafty harmonies and intricate arrangements. But then regular readers already know movingtheriver is a big fan.
So Kershaw’s back catalogue is an embarrassment of riches but also presents some potential problems for a five–piece ‘rock’ band – for a start, how to recreate those dense textures and sequence-heavy arrangements? Thankfully he generally didn’t scrimp on any of that, mostly using the same audio stems and keyboard sounds from the 1980s. There was little or no ‘reimagining’ during this gig, hugely enjoyed by a packed house.
‘Roses’, whose lyrics are still relevant today, was the surprise but effective first song, the band (all middle-aged white guys dressed in black, but then you don’t go to a Kershaw gig expecting bells and whistles) arriving onstage to the opening percussion loop.
‘Know How’ and ‘Wild Horses’ (a favourite of Miles Davis) sounded fantastic, benefitting from bassist Paul Geary’s beefy tone and Kershaw’s fluid guitar lines.
He delivered a great vocal on ‘Wide Boy’, while ‘City Of Angels’ – written about ‘a city I’d never been to’ – featured a lovely laidback performance from drummer Bob Knight, though at times during the gig he lacked the dynamics and smooth grooves of original Human Racing/Riddle sticksman Charlie Morgan.
Geary had his work cut out aping Mark King on ‘Easy’, but he did a pretty good job if somewhat lacking the Level 42 man’s precise percussiveness and syncopated slides. Impressively, keys player Phil Peckett seemed to take care of all the track’s fast sixteenth-notes in real time rather than relying on a sequencer. The whole band did pretty much the same on ‘Don Quixote’.
Self-deprecating to the last (he’s always claimed he’s just a ‘muso’ who was thrust into the limelight), Kershaw played down his Green credentials before ‘Save The Whale’, claiming it had been written as a last-minute ‘rent-an-issue’ song for The Riddle.
The excellent ‘You Might’ featured ‘too many chords’, according to Kershaw, while the first set closed with the album’s perennially popular title track, featuring tasty duel lead guitars though with a rather stiff ‘rock’ feel compared to the slinky sixteenth-note groove of the original.
Set two featured Human Racing in its entirety, and this is where the now rather dated zaniness of Kershaw’s early stuff became apparent, the superbly sung title track and ‘Wouldn’t It Be Good’ aside, though the latter was played surprisingly early in the set.
There was a lengthy tribute to and applause for producer Peter Collins who passed away in June before Kershaw closed up Human Racing with ‘I Won’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me’, rescued by the frontman’s lengthy Holdsworth-like guitar solo.
He seemed genuinely delighted by the ecstatic crowd reaction, signing off with a breezy ‘You’ve made an old man very happy’, before encoring with mass singalongs ‘When A Heart Beats’ (complete with superb note-for-note solo from second guitarist Adam Evans), should-have-been-a-hit ‘The Sky’s The Limit’ and ‘The One And Only’.
A great night of classy music and enjoyable nostalgia. Who knows – maybe Nik will amaze us with Radio Musicola @ 40 in 2026.
One adjective you couldn’t use about 1980s pop is ‘boring’. The music had way too much character and the artists too much physical presence for that.
But 1980s music culture was easy to lampoon. And there was so much mainstream TV to do the lampooning, from ‘Not The Nine O’Clock News’ and ‘The Goodies’ to ‘The Kenny Everett Video Show’ and ‘Spitting Image’.
And across the pond, of course, there was ‘Saturday Night Live’. Then there were the radio spoofs and specially-constructed ‘bands’ like The Hee Bee Gee Bees. All in all it was a golden era for satire.
So here we round up some classic spoofs of 1980s music, with a few recurring subjects…
9. Not The Nine O’Clock News: ‘Happy Crappy Nappy Song’
Inane pop pretenders or joyous post-punk tunesmiths? If you thought Altered Images were the former, Pamela Stephenson and pals pretty much nailed the Glaswegian band’s shtick right here.
8. Stevie Nicks: ‘What The Hell Is She Saying?’
Who the hell is responsible for this classic?
7. Not The Nine O’Clock News: ‘Nice Video, Shame About The Song’
It’s the naughty gang again, this time brilliantly skewering early ‘80s pop videos, particularly the work of pioneers Russell ‘Vienna’ Mulcahy and David ‘Ashes To Ashes’ Mallet.
6. The Hee Bee Gee Bees: ‘Quite Ahead Of My Time’
Angus Deayton, Phil Pope and Michael Fenton Stevens brilliantly lampoon David Bowie’s 1976-1980 era, with nods to ‘Golden Years’, ‘Ashes To Ashes’, ‘African Night Flight’, ‘Fashion’, ‘It’s No Game’ and even ‘The Secret Life Of Arabia’. There’s also a touch of Eno and Bowie’s ‘point to some chord signs with a baton and get the band to play them’ Berlin-era modus operandi about the music here.
5. Spitting Image: ‘We’re Scared Of Bob’
Lyrically and musically spot-on, and also highlights the use of minor celebs in ‘We Are The World’ and ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas’.
4. The Kenny Everett Video Show: The Bee Gees
Ten years before Clive Anderson’s disastrous TV interview, Kenny nails the inescapable naffness of the Brothers Gibb.
3. The Hee Bee Gee Bees: ‘Too Depressed To Commit Suicide’
The first of two Police pastiches, Messrs. Deayton, Pope and Fenton Stevens (apparently with amusing lyrical input by Richard Curtis too) offer a great distillation of their sound, somewhere between ‘Walking On The Moon’ and ‘Don’t Stand So Close To Me’. Also check out the delicious piss-taking of Stewart Copeland’s penchant for adding ‘delays’ (echoes) to his drums.
2. Weird Al Yankovic: ‘Velvet Elvis’
Not as good as the previous track – his voice is pretty poor – but musically it’s pretty damn sharp.
1. Saturday Night Live: Frank Sinatra and Stevie Wonder
Just a timeless classic…
Any classic ’80s parodies missing here? Leave a comment below.
40 years ago, gay artists weren’t just occasional visitors to the British pop charts – they were leading the agenda.
A famous top three of August 1984 featured George Michael at #1, Frankie Goes To Hollywood at #2 and Bronksi Beat’s ‘Smalltown Boy’ at #3.
Remarkably, the latter was also the Bronskis’ debut single, coming from debut album The Age Of Consent. And what a trailblazing/timeless classic it is, danceable and tearjerking, with a once-in-a-lifetime vocal performance from Jimmy Somerville and that winning chord sequence.
Bernard Rose’s sombre video (which has had 121 million YouTube views at the time of writing) was obviously a huge part of the song’s success, combining the ‘realist’ style of Mike Leigh and Ken Loach with a few poetic touches to brilliant and moving effect.
Producer Mike Thorne’s role on the track is often undervalued too – there was a touch of his ‘Tainted Love’ in his bass sound and extensive use of top-end on synths and drums, and he also gets a pat on the back for leaving in a few mistakes (check out the shockingly-played synth lead line in the first 30 seconds, a section that also seems to speed up a lot).
The legacy of ‘Smalltown Boy’ is rather sad though – writers/co-founders Steve Bronski and Larry Steinbachek have both died recently, deaths that seems to have been somewhat under-reported in the media.
In this day and age, it’s weirdly reassuring to recommend an album which resolutely refuses to appear on streaming platforms or even CD.
So, at the time of writing, it has always ever been just a 1982 vinyl release for Rockin’ Jimmy & The Brothers Of The Night (widely available on Discogs).
Fronted by bespectacled Rockin’ Jimmy Byfield, they were a Tulsa-based bar band with country, blues and R’n’B influences, prowling similar territory as late Little Feat, JJ Cale, mid-‘70s Eric Clapton (who covered Byfield’s ‘Little Rachel’ on There’s One In Every Crowd), early Dire Straits, late-‘70s Ry Cooder and even ZZ Top at their most laidback.
Championed by Alexis Korner on his fabled Radio 1 show, Rockin’ Jimmy’s second and final album was one of the first ‘rock’ albums your correspondent remembers enjoying. It appeared on the small but influential, Notting Hill-based Sonet Records. Based around Byfield’s pleasant voice and Chuck DeWalt’s fat beats, the band eschewed distorted guitars and blues/rock cliches in favour of catchy, melodic songs and neat ensemble work.
The album’s beautifully recorded, with no concessions to early 1980s production (thanks to Brit helmer Peter Nicholls, best known for his work with Joe Cocker and Leon Russell). ‘Rockin’ All Nite’, ‘Angel Eyes’ and ‘It’s A Mystery’ have staying power. The rest of the album hasn’t dated much either.
Sadly the band split after this second record, but they did apparently tour a little until the end of 1982, as this clip attests, and may still occasionally play around Tulsa (correct?). The cover’s quite cool too – which meeting of which ‘brotherhood’ is Byfield about to attend? The shadow knows…
Pop musicians make comebacks all the time – in jazz or jazz/rock, it’s almost unheard of.
Every post-1971 British crime movie has had ‘Get Carter’ and ‘Performance’ in its rearview mirror.
As the male solo artist with the most weeks on the UK singles chart during 1984, it’s not surprising Nik Kershaw is celebrating that year with a lengthy European tour, playing his two top 10 albums Human Racing and The Riddle in their entirety.
40 years ago, gay artists weren’t just occasional visitors to the British pop charts – they were leading the agenda.
In this day and age, it’s weirdly reassuring to recommend an album which resolutely refuses to appear on streaming platforms or even CD.
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