In the last ten years of his life, Frank Zappa released a series of orchestral albums, now mainly forgotten by all but his most ardent fans. But they are vital constituents of his work, and may surprise listeners who only know him as a ‘rock’ musician.
A key artefact is the self-financed London Symphony Orchestra, the first volume of which was released 40 years ago (the second followed in 1987, before both were rereleased on CD and streaming platforms in 2012) and my pick of Frank’s ‘classical’ works.
It was recorded between 12-14 January 1983 at Twickenham Film Studios in South West London, on the banks of the Thames. The night before, on 11 January, the orchestra (plus Ed Mann and Chad Wackerman from Frank’s ‘rock’ band) performed the repertoire at the Barbican. Check out how the BBC reported that here.
Zappa has spoken candidly about the difficulties he had rehearsing and recording this music (percussionist Mann reports that the orchestra had a whole week of rehearsal – almost unheard of – at the Hammersmith Odeon and that he had been given his parts a month before rehearsals so that he could practice at home), and the myriad editing and studio tricks that had to be utilised before he was happy. ‘The Big Note’ tells the fascinating full story.
The music was split into premiere works and older material. The standout is probably ‘Bogus Pomp’, which reworks much of the orchestral stuff from ‘200 Motels’ to stunning effect. ‘Envelopes’ will be familiar to fans of the previous year’s Ship Arriving Too Late album.
It’s a blast of challenging, exciting music, even if you’re not a fan of ‘classical’ music. Excited by Varese, Boulez, Messiaen, Ives, Bartok and Stravinsky, amongst others, Zappa dealt in timbre and ‘blocks’ of sound, featuring big chords and big percussion sounds, bypassing cliché and having no truck with the notion that it was ‘difficult’ music. If you liked it, bitchin’. If you didn’t, there was a lot of other stuff out there.
Another bit of good news is that these two albums sound absolutely superb in their current incarnation on streaming services and CD, leaving the following year’s Perfect Stranger in the dust. All of those post-production tricks paid off. Thanks to Frank.
Late July 1976: if you were a British jazz/rock fan, all roads led to the legendary Hammersmith Odeon in West London.
The Billy Cobham/George Duke Band opened three nights of music, followed by John McLaughlin’s Shakti and then the headliners Weather Report. The encores often featured members of all three fusion supergroups.
So how apt that a reformed Shakti should appear at the same venue almost exactly 47 years on. And what a relief that they chose the Hammersmith Odeon (it’ll always be the Odeon to me, I can’t call it the ‘Apollo’…) to kick off this hugely anticipated 50th anniversary tour rather than the predictable Barbican or Royal Festival Hall. Accordingly, this was not your usual ‘jazz’ crowd after a little ‘culture’ – it was a vocal, refreshingly multicultural audience.
An attempt to marry ‘Western’/blues-influenced timbres with both North/South Indian rhythmic/melodic approaches, Shakti released three albums between 1976 and 1978, then reformed as Remember Shakti in 1998 for three more tours and subsequent live albums.
For this iteration, promoting brand new album This Moment, 81-year-old guitar master McLaughlin was joined by regular collaborators Zakir Hussain on tabla, Shankar Mahadevan on vocals and Selvaganesh Vinayakram on sundry percussion, plus youthful new recruit Ganesh Rajagopalan on violin.
There was combustive interplay on the opener ‘5 In The Morning, 6 In The Afternoon’, McLaughlin going back to his youth with some potent blues licks, bringing to mind his playing on Miles’s ‘Right Off’. Is he using an amp again, after years of firing his guitar straight through the PA?
An exquisite ‘Zakir’ came with heartfelt words from John to his friend. ‘Anna’, described as a ‘golden goldie’ by Hussain, featured flawlessly-played classical Indian lines and a brilliantly fluid solo from Rajagopalan.
John’s guitar gained a little more distortion in time for the violinist’s composition ‘Mohanam’, and by the middle of the gig he was in his element, dropping in references to ‘Lila’s Dance’ and Lee Morgan’s ‘The Sidewinder’. New track ‘Bending The Rules’ even saw John inject a lick from his 1980s classic ‘Florianapolis’. ‘Sakhi’ and ‘Lotus Feet’ were very touching, and some incendiary konnakol percussion duels closed the show on ‘Finding The Way’.
There was light and shade, fury and meditation at this excellent gig – the only downside was the incessant filming with mobile phones. Is there no privacy/immediacy at these larger concerts? The Shakti story continues. Who would have predicted that five years ago? Their tour continues through Europe and into the US during August. Don’t miss.
Hue and Cry: brothers Pat and Greg Kane. Photo by Phil Guest.
Some artists in the 1980s pop firmament (Paul Weller, Everything but the Girl, Simply Red) got away with marrying ‘aspirational’ music with supposed ‘socialist’ principles.
But Hue and Cry (brothers Pat and Tom Hanks-lookalike Greg Kane) had a tougher time. After their first two years of hits (‘Labour Of Love’, ‘Looking For Linda’, ‘Violently’), somehow their marriage of Sinatra-meets-Steely music and ‘political’ lyrics started to seriously wind people up in the age of grunge and Britpop.
Their 1988 album Remote (featuring an astonishing lineup of guest players including Michael Brecker, Tito Puente, Roy Ayers and Ron Carter) is certainly a desert-island disc but, by their third collection, 1991’s low-key Stars Crash Down, the momentum had been lost, typified by a famous hatchet job in Q magazine’s 100th edition begging them to split up (‘Britain’s Most Hated Band’!) – though it’s oft forgotten that the Melody Maker, NME, Sounds and Smash Hits quite liked them during their pop peak.
Since then, Radio 1’s loss has been Radio 2’s gain. The brothers Kane have ploughed on, recording the occasional album, generally eschewing the 1980s ‘nostalgia’ tours in favour of regular, relatively low-key live work. The duo format seems to be suit them very well – see 1989’s excellent Bitter Suite – and it’s been their preferred modus operandi over the last 20 years or so.
This Pizza Express gig was your correspondent’s first time seeing them live for 35 years, and anticipation was quite high, though I don’t exactly have happy memories of their 4 December 1989 gig at Hammersmith Odeon complete with ‘wacky’ horn section and less-than-stellar musicianship.
It’s not enough for 1980s acts to just play live now – the audience wants stories, and these boys have some good ones. But first Pat – in excellent voice throughout – laid down the gig’s house rules: 1. Things will only progress at a stately pace. 2. If you DON’T film our best songs and post them on twitter, you’re out.
Pat revealed that two of their early singles were written as a result of ‘being educated by a triumvirate of feminists at Glasgow University from 1981 to 1984’: indeed ‘I Refuse’ and ‘Violently’ were revelatory here. ‘Looking For Linda’, meanwhile, concerning a ‘Northern powerhouse’ who has never revealed herself to the Kane brothers since the song’s success, was a winner but missed a few neat chord changes/modulations from the original.
Their penchant for winding people up – gleefully acknowledged by Pat – emerged with new song ‘Everybody Deserves To Be Loved’ which sounded like The Blue Nile doing EDM, and there were less than essential covers of ‘Black And Gold’ and ‘Take Me To Church’.
But their best songs were harmonically-interesting, subtle explorations of adult relationships. Comparisons with Bacharach and David’s work wouldn’t be out of order. ‘Long Term Lovers Of Pain’, the ‘comeback’ single from Stars Crash Down, might just have been a Deacon Blue-style hit, but their luck had run out by then.
‘Just Say You Love Me’ and ‘Pocketful of Stones’ sounded every inch like modern standards, while excellent new song ‘Heading For A Fall’ borrowed verses from ‘The Message’ and ‘Inner City Blues’ – ‘three for one!’ trumpeted Pat.
The Kane brothers ended with a medley of ‘Shipbuilding’ and ‘The Man With The Child In His Eyes’, showcasing Pat’s rich, expressive voice to great effect. While Hue and Cry’s catalogue is unlikely to reach the critical heights of those songs’ classic status, this enjoyable gig shone a light on some underrated gems well worth discovering/rediscovering. There’s life in the duo yet.
40 years ago this week, Japan played their last ever gig. It was on 16 December 1982 at Nagoyashi Kokaido, the last date of a brief Far East tour.
To the band, it seemed pretty much like any other concert until someone started firing a water pistol at Steve Jansen as he tried to play the marimba solo on ‘Ghosts’. Then, as they came out for their first encore (‘Life In Tokyo’), the ping pong balls arrived, as did someone in a Father Christmas suit.
David Sylvian’s partner Yuka Fujii (such an important documenter of his 1980s work) filmed from the balcony of the hall as Japanese support act Sandii & The Sunsetz joined the band plus various people in animal suits.
Sylvian’s grin when he notices live mixer John Punter mucking about at the side of the stage is priceless. Much-missed Mick Karn and Jansen amuse themselves with some booze, guitarist Masami Tsuchiya attempts some Mick-style stage shenanigans and it’s touching to see this so buttoned-up of bands letting their hair down as they play their last ever live track: ‘Fall In Love With Me’.
The gig was a bittersweet end for Japan. Sylvian and Karn had fallen out irreparably (but would make up soon after). Manager Simon Napier-Bell was furious about the split (though would initially go on to manage Sylvian as a solo artist) as they were poised to become massive and had never sounded better.
Upon hearing of the band’s decision to break up, he reportedly asked for his full (back-dated) commission, as was his contractual right, leaving everyone in the band except Sylvian basically penniless. But – pending a strike from Jansen and Barbieri – he eventually relented and gave each band member £6,000 for the tour.
But huge credit to Japan for splitting when they did – a host of inferior imitators would come along in their wake.
Keyboard player Tony Hymas had one of the weirder music careers of the 1980s.
He began the decade helping to make There And Back one of Jeff Beck’s best albums, then popped up in a supergroup called PHD with singer Jim Diamond and drummer Simon Phillips, getting a classic UK one-hit wonder ‘I Won’t Let You Down’ (#2 in 1982!), then played on/wrote arguably the best track from Beck’s pretty poor 1985 album Flash, and then…not a lot for a while (read this excellent rare interview for more on Tony’s career).
But he was an absolutely vital part of Beck’s career comeback courtesy of Guitar Shop, released in October 1989. You might even call it Beck’s last great album, and arguably Bozzio’s too.
They recorded at Jimmy Page’s residential Sol Studios in leafy Cookham, Surrey (Beck later reported: ‘When we finished the album, I left me bike in his shed, so he got a bicycle out of it too…’!). The album ended up taking eight months to write and record because Hymas brought a chess board with him.
Beck took genres that he’d touched upon throughout his career – blues, reggae, rockabilly, metal, funk, fusion – and used them as a jumping-off points, working up material with Hymas and Bozzio in the studio.
And it’s very memorable material. On the title track Beck fondly mocks the gear obsession of guitar magazines, and goes through a range of tones and effects in the process, but…it all just sounds like Jeff. A Strat or Telecaster, distortion/delay pedals, and that’s it. It’s all in his fingers.
On the masterpiece that is ‘Where Were You’, he plays the lion’s share of the melody (reportedly very influenced by the Bulgarian State Radio & Television Female Vocal Choir AKA Les Voix Bulgares) with harmonics and very judicious use of the whammy bar, bending in and out of notes with just the right amount of wrist tension.
Bozzio plays a blinder – mostly reining in his formidable technique at the expense of groove and presence – but unleashes some seriously quick double-bass playing on ‘Sling Shot’. Thrash drummers beware. And there’s THAT amazing fill at the end.
Hymas is a great accompanist – you hardly miss real bass and only very occasionally yearn for another instrumental foil for Beck. A couple of tracks on the album became live staples too, played in concert to this day – ‘Big Block’, ‘Where Were You’ and ‘Behind The Veil’.
Guitar Shop did OK in the States, making #49, but weirdly didn’t chart in the UK. But it did win a Best Rock Instrumental Grammy award in 1990. Their Hammersmith gig of 29 July that year was one of the loudest ever heard at the venue. Beck talked up the possibility of a second album and tour but it never happened. They did reform for Jeff’s birthday party at the Royal Festival Hall in 2002 though. And El Becko got on ‘Rapido’:
The classic It Bites lineup (Francis Dunnery, John Beck, Richard Nolan, Bob Dalton) produced three excellent studio albums and of course snared one huge UK hit in the shape of ‘Calling All The Heroes’.
Then, after the band split in 1990, there was the middling live collection Thankyou And Goodnight, and now a limited-edition 2018 box set called Live In London. I must have missed a memo because I only heard about it a year or so ago.
It was well worth the wait. It collects three unedited London gigs (I was at two of them) over five CDs, including their very last major show in the capital.
Whilst these are essentially desk recordings, the sound quality ranges from good to excellent. The box set also features nice, previously unseen photos and some good liner notes including a long interview with Dalton, telling of their London history and details of each gig.
The Marquee concert from 21 July 1986 (at less than 40 minutes, presumably a support?) catches the band in their full-on, zingy, poppy/funky early pomp. Everything sounds a little fast and they haven’t quite settled into their groove yet but it’s still a good listen.
There’s a rather shrill early version of ‘Black December’ and a great, rare outing for ‘Whole New World’ with Dunnery playing the horn lines on lead guitar with some aplomb.
Next is the very tangible peak of the band, a Once Around The World tour gig from 13 May 1988 at the much-missed Astoria. The sound is beefy, the tempos locked in, the backing vocals excellent and this really is the dog’s bollocks. There’s so much evidence of craft, with an extra note here and lick there, always slightly modifying the album versions.
‘Plastic Dreamer’ is a revelation, ‘Black December’ is huge, and ‘Old Man & The Angel’ ambitious and exciting. We finally get to hear what Dunnery sings in ‘Hunting The Whale’. The ‘Midnight/Wanna Shout’ medley is a knockout, complete with ‘Purple Haze’ coda, and Once Around The World’s title track is brilliant, complete with excerpt from ‘New York, New York’ which chimes rather cleverly with Dunnery and Beck’s Lamb Lies Down On Broadway fixation.
The third gig is the band’s final London show, from the Hammersmith Odeon on 7 April 1990. The intro sounds like something from Prince’s Lovesexy. The new songs sound great, ‘Let Us All Go’ is superb but Dunnery’s voice is pretty shot throughout, and some of the backing vocals are also showing signs of strain. In truth you can hear the schisms in the band developing, though there are many, many great moments.
Barely two months later Dunnery had left the group. Not long after that, this correspondent would see him skulking around the King’s Head pub in Fulham (he was rehearsing upstairs with Robert Plant, I was gigging there), not looking a particularly well or happy man. Thankfully he’s on a far more even keel now.
Live In London is a really exciting release, a must-have collection for anyone who owns any of the studio albums, and arguably a much better package than Thankyou And Goodnight.
Further reading: I’ve written about the second It Bites studio album Once Around The World in the current edition of Classic Pop magazine.
After ‘82’s critically acclaimed New Gold Dream, the logical step for Simple Minds would seem to have been to go even further away from their art-rock roots and rush headlong towards some funky ‘sophisti-pop’.
After all, head honcho Jim Kerr is on record as saying that his favourites from the era were Grace Jones’ Nightclubbing, Donna Summer’s two classic 1982 singles and Carly Simon’s ‘Why’.
To that end, Nightclubbing co-helmer Alex Sadkin was eagerly approached to produce Sparkle In The Rain, but he declined, busy with Duran Duran and Thompson Twins work.
Instead, inspired by premiering the pile-driving, Pink Floyd-meets-Doors ‘Waterfront’ at Dublin’s Phoenix Park gig (supporting U2) on 14 August 1983, they turned to producer Steve Lillywhite, chief architect of the Return to Rock that was eclipsing New Pop during summer 1983, courtesy of his work with Big Country and U2.
Lillywhite hastily took them into Shepherds Bush’s legendary Townhouse Studios 2, with Howard Gray engineering. Guitarist Charlie Burchill wrote ‘Herzog’ on the back of Lillywhite’s chair, inspired by his and Kerr’s newfound love of the German director’s ‘Fitzcarraldo’ and its theme of dreams moving mountains. A photo of Nastassja Kinski took pride of place on the control-room wall.
There were regular games of table tennis, Kerr using them to psych himself up for the very adrenalized vocal takes, especially on the hysterial ‘Kick Inside Of Me’.
After previous drummer problems to match Spinal Tap, the excellent Mel Gaynor was a real find for the band. Though quiet in the studio, he was a monster on the kit and also apparently contributed effective keyboard and guitar ideas.
Bassist Derek Forbes was more in the background, spending a lot of time drawing his ‘Dan Yer Man’ cartoons. Burchill allegedly gave him a bollocking about his lack of ‘commitment’; the writing was on the wall for the talented player. He’d soon join fellow ex-Mind Brian McGee in a superb iteration of Propaganda’s touring band.
Tellingly, Sparkle’s songwriting royalties are split five ways, except for a truncated cover of Lou Reed’s ‘Street Hassle’ which jettisons some of the more ‘unsavoury’ statements of the original (shades of Bowie’s ‘Tonight’, recorded a few months later?).
But it’s Gaynor, Kerr and McNeil’s album. The latter provides epic textures, very high in the mix. Kirsty MacColl provides a very welcome ‘girl’s voice’. ‘Shake Off The Ghosts’ was certainly noted by U2. ‘Waterfront’ is brilliant. How many other hits use guitar harmonics for their main riff? (only The Hooters’ ‘Satellite’ comes to mind).
Alongside Empires And Dance, Sparkle remains my favourite Minds album. Yes it’s a sonic ‘experiment’ and most tracks go on for a minute too long, but it’s rooted in strong band playing and delicious ambient textures. And it’s bloody loud.
Released on 6 February 1984, it became their first of four straight UK #1 albums. But they weren’t delivering on the singles front: ‘Waterfront’ only got to #13, ‘Speed Your Love’ #20 and ‘Up On The Catwalk’ #27. With hindsight, their reluctant November 1984 recording of Keith Forsey/Steve Schiff’s ‘Don’t You (Forget About Me)’ was a vital career move.
Minds hit the gig circuit for a very busy summer 1984 tour including a record-breaking (at the time) eight nights at Hammersmith Odeon. This was a very different group to a year earlier. It’s fascinating to compare two ‘Oxford Road Show’ gigs from early 1983 and early 1984:
Gone was the skinny, neurotic Euro art-funk. Kerr was a far more wholesome, energised, welcoming character than before, screaming ‘Charlie Burchill!’ before the regular guitar breaks. He even started the Hammersmith gigs up a pole, Julian Cope-style!
But Kerr quickly disowned this period, citing exhaustion on the part of the band. Stateside success seemed so near yet so far. But then came ‘Don’t You’, Kerr’s marriage to Chrissie Hynde, ‘The Breakfast Club’ and Live Aid. The world was theirs.
In an interview, Randy Newman once talked about how, on his self-titled debut album, he tried to use the orchestra rather than the drums to ‘move things along’.
It was impossible not to think about that while watching Burt Bacharach’s triumphant Hammersmith gig last night, featuring a large band and huge string section.
This is music relying on texture, melody and counterpoint – it’s the world of Pet Sounds and Oliver Nelson’s The Blues And The Abstract Truth, with barely a guitar lick or drum fill.
Every chord has a flavour and intention – but few of the voicings are quite how you remembered them. ‘I’ll Never Fall In Love Again’, ‘This Girl’s In Love With You’ and ‘Alfie’ were elliptical and mysterious last night, with beautiful, ‘floating’ harmony.
Joss Stone treats any stage like her backyard, totally at ease, barefooted and gorgeous. And if she did a great job on the melodic, medium-paced material (‘Walk On By’, ‘Wishin’ And Hopin”, ‘Say A Little Prayer’), sometimes there was a ‘screechy’ element to her voice when improvising on the slower tracks.
And some may have found her between-song ‘chats’ with Burt a little mawkish. But to be fair he did tell some good stories, particularly the one about being inspired by Ursula Andress – not his then-wife Angie Dickinson – to write ‘The Look Of Love’ for the original ‘Casino Royale’ movie.
And though Hal David’s name was only mentioned once by Bacharach, the lyricist’s influence hung heavy over proceedings. It came to mind just how brilliantly he evoked the nooks and crannies, the high stakes, of all romantic relationships, particularly when one party is looking for the door.
The inclusion of some more recent stuff was a revelation to this writer, particularly a couple of fervent – though musically gentle – anti-Trump songs, and the remarkable Elvis Costello co-write ‘This House Is Empty Now’, with its stratospheric middle eight and an excellent vocal from John Pagano.
‘On My Own’ and ‘Close To You’ were reinvented as spine-tingling, slow-motion ballads, even slower than the originals, while Josie James’ powerful take on ‘Anyone Who Had A Heart’ got the biggest ovation of the evening. Such is Bacharach’s range as a songwriter, you kept hoping he would throw in a few more outliers, ‘Arthur’s Theme (Best That You Can Do)’ or ‘Love Power’.
But ‘That’s What Friends Are For’ was the perfect closer, sending us out into that good night with a smile (though it was odd that Joss didn’t return for a final song).
One left the gig uplifted but also, truth be told, emotionally spent. Still, it was a weird, wonderful, affecting two hours of pop music. And you try to tell the kids these days…
Mark King of Level 42, Hammersmith Odeon, 13 November 1985
The London live music scene was buoyant in the 1980s.
There was a gig on pretty much every corner. You could see a Goth band, a pub-rock band, a reggae band, a psychobilly band, a soul band – sometimes all on the same bill.
Places like The Rock Garden in Covent Garden, Swan and King’s Head in Fulham, Clarendon in Hammersmith, Red Lion in Brentford, Astoria in Soho and Mean Fiddler in Harlesden are quite understandably still revered by music fans of a certain age.
There were brilliant nightclubs too: The Bat Cave, Dingwalls, Wag, Blitz, Limelight, Marquee. Let’s be thankful that, as we write, a handful of legendary venues from that era survive (The Half Moon in Putney, Ronnie Scott’s, Roundhouse, Scala, Borderline) and long may they last.
Here are a few gigs that still loom large (all in London unless otherwise stated). I hope they spark some memories of your own. Eagle-eyed readers will notice that I pretty much camped out at the Hammersmith Odeon in the late ’80s – well, it was my local, and it seemed like almost everyone came through that brilliant venue…
9. Frank Zappa @ Wembley Arena, 18 April 1988
Yessir, Frank was in town for the first time in four years. I was a new fan and very excited to see him live. His guitar was insanely loud and very trebly. The reggae version of ‘Stairway To Heaven’ was particularly memorable. Lots of onstage banter and political rhetoric. Lots of old-school hippies in the stalls. What a treat.
8. The New York Jazz Explosion (Roy Ayers/Tom Browne/Lonnie Liston Smith/Jean Carn) @ Hammersmith Odeon, 24 February 1985
I’d never heard of any of these guys when my dad offered me a ticket but I’m bloody glad I went. Lonnie started the show with some prime, instrumental, Rhodes-driven jazz/funk, then Roy played some old favourites and quite a lot from his In The Dark album. I don’t remember much about Jean or Tom but Roy blew me away (I’ve seen him at least five times since). The Odeon was packed and a very raucous crowd made a lot of noise in those glorious days when almost every famous US soul star played there. A real eye-opener.
7. David Sylvian @ Hammersmith Odeon, 30 May 1988
It was pretty much the first sight of David since Japan’s split and there was a genuinely exciting atmosphere in the old venue. Lots of screaming girls and a large Goth contingent. An unsmiling, slight and pale Sylvian silenced them by playing keys for the first few ethereal instrumentals (with hindsight, very reminiscent of Bowie’s ‘Stage’ tour a decade earlier). Fantastic band: David Torn, Mark Isham, Steve Jansen, Ian Maidman, Richard Barbieri.
6. Art Blakey @ Ronnie Scott’s, 26 January 1989
Ronnie’s hosted a lot of the bona fide jazz greats in those days. My dad took me to a see a fair few but catching Bu was a revelation. His sheer presence was memorable and his press rolls made the walls of the club shake. The suited-and-booted band, including top-notch Brit pianist Julian Joseph, were excellent too.
5. It Bites @ Brunel University, ? March 1988
My schoolmate Nigel had played me this band’s debut The Big Lad In The Windmill and I was becoming a massive fan when we got a lift out to darkest North-West London just before the release of their second album Once Around The World. They played in the low-ceilinged students union bar (scene also of The Sex Pistols’ final UK gig in December 1977, trivia fans…) and it became one of the most outstanding pop gigs I saw in the ’80s. A terrifyingly tight band – ‘coming at you like a f***in’ juggernaut’ as singer/guitarist Francis Dunnery said recently – with humour and chops. And a cracking version of ‘New York, New York’ in the middle of ‘Once Around The World’ to boot.
4. Level 42 @ Hammersmith Odeon, 13 November 1985
They were finally making the big pop breakthrough with World Machine but still had one foot in their jazz/funk ‘roots’ – this era was an exciting mix of both approaches. These boys were going places but were still quite naughty/rough’n’ready with it. Sadly this was the peak of the original four-piece band, but it was another brilliant, noisy, sweaty night at the Odeon.
This took place at a makeshift venue in the back-end of nowhere within Thatcher’s huge Docklands development. It was a long car ride from West London into a strange wasteland. I had wanted to see this band since Blue Matter had come out a year earlier and accordingly watched drummer Dennis Chambers like a hawk throughout. From memory, he in turn eyeballed me throughout. His playing was pretty mindblowing from 10 yards away.
2. Wendy & Lisa @ Town & Country Club, 25 April 1989
It was a hot, sweaty night at the T&C, and the nearest to seeing Prince in such a small venue (which does a great disservice to Wendy and Lisa’s excellent playing and songwriting, but there you go). There was a genuine star quality to the (almost all-female) band and a very cool clientele – everyone was clocking a peak-fame Sinead O’Connor at the bar. The gig delivered the promise of summer and some cracking music too.
1. Animal Logic @ Town & Country Club, 25 May 1989
Back in the late ’80s, you only really gleaned info about musicians from magazines. When Rhythm – the now-defunkt UK monthly – printed that Stewart Copeland and Stanley Clarke were doing a gig in North London, we just had to be there. It was a surprise to say the least. There had literally been no sign of Copeland in the UK since The Police and the crowd seemed to be entirely composed of their fans – a huge roar erupted when Stewart’s kit was rolled onto the stage. Unfortunately the songs weren’t great but the atmosphere was.
1987 was the year hip-hop went mainstream in the UK. Or at least it felt like that at my school.
A few of the ‘cool’ kids were nicking the VW signs popularised by Mike D of the Beastie Boys (a major tabloid cause célèbre) and friends’ parents were even playing Licensed To Ill at parties.
Public Enemy, Run DMC, LL Cool J, Eric B & Rakim and Salt-N-Pepa were the dog’s b****cks, graffiti culture was getting big and DJ Tim Westwood was fast becoming a household name, thanks to his progression from Kiss FM to Capital.
This excellent, recently-unearthed BBC documentary handily incorporates all of the above:
Two legendary gigs seem to epitomise London’s love affair with classic hip-hop in ’87: Run DMC & Beastie Boys’ notorious double-header at the Brixton Academy – the first night of which happened 30 years ago today – and also the Def Jam package tour which checked into the Hammersmith Odeon later in the year.
As the late great Shaw Taylor used to say on ‘Police 5’, were you there? If you were (I wasn’t), let me know your memories of these seminal London gigs.
In the last ten years of his life, Frank Zappa released a series of orchestral albums, now mainly forgotten by all but his most ardent fans. But they are vital constituents of his work, and may surprise listeners who only know him as a ‘rock’ musician.
40 years ago this week, Japan played their last ever gig. It was on 16 December 1982 at Nagoyashi Kokaido, the last date of a brief Far East tour.
In an interview, Randy Newman once talked about how, on his self-titled debut album, he tried to use the orchestra rather than the drums to ‘move things along’. 
1987 was the year hip-hop went mainstream in the UK. Or at least it felt like that at my school. 
movingtheriver.com 