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Spent the weekend creeping across the open fields of East Anglia searching for vinyl in the hedgerows and byways, and generally making a nuisance of myself. Even better, greatly enjoyed catching up with official Friend Of Record Collector, Ian Clark, Northern soul face (despite possessing southern physiognomy) and DJ extraordinaire. Mr Clark eats, breathes and, er, plays vinyl, and I availed myself of his considerable record-finding services with a copy of Lou Donaldson’s Say It Loud and several handsome soul albums (his website doesn’t tell you the half of it, but is still packed with gems). I already have Lou’s album on CD, but buying the full-sized item had such an effect on me that I had a dream about the soul sisters on the sleeve – just a friendly encounter, you understand, nothing untoward. (Sometimes I think I may be just a little too obsessed with records.) Anyway, Mr Clark informs me he is well into the second section of his Northern trilogy that began with his piece in RC 417. If it’s half as good as the first one, it’ll be well worth the wait. Speaking of matters northerly and soulful, I’ve just heard tell about a second copy of the Darrell Banks record (ta-dah!) that has so foxed us all. I’ve yet to see the visual evidence, but we’ll bring it to you should it surface. Those of you who have no idea what I’m droning on about (no change there, then) can consult page 10 of the current issue of RC and my slightly daft riposte on page 15, should you feel that way inclined.
Prompted by last week’s newsletter’s musings about the right tune at the right time sending me into a state of ecstasy, reader Gareth Kitching has kindly written to suggest that it’s not just complete pieces of music that can turn you into a ray of light, but simply guitar riffs. He offers these examples: Leviathan’s Flames from our own Unleashed album (sold out now, sorry), Magical Mist’s Time Out To Fly, and Buffalo Springfield’s For What It’s Worth, which I actually prefer in a different version with another hypnotic guitar riff and which has filled floors for me on occasion (presumably the record sold zilch in the UK because my copy is the same demo pressing). I think for me it’s not so much riffs but musical atmosphere or perhaps the entire package that might send me higher, baby. It can also be location; for example, country music, if you are in a tower block in London, might not do very much for you. But hear it while zipping along a back road in Texas and it makes sense. Maybe it’s the right tune at the right time and the right place that matters. I’d love to read your thoughts about what sends you floating away like a music-powered balloon, and why you think it happens.
So K8 Bsh has aksed fns to turn off their fones and tblets B cs she don wan em 2 txt during her gigs, innit. Will this prevent her shows appearing on YouTube, as distorted as Dali’s clock, seconds after they are finished? I doubt it. Maybe Kate should hold her next gigs on a jet, or at a surgery, both places where people tend to observe the (probably pointless) orders to switch ’em off. I’ve got some sympathy with her, however: I’m intending to sing along with every note of Them Heavy People at full blast ’cos I like a bit of reggae, and the last thing I want is someone spoiling my enjoyment with their lousy mobile phone beeping.
Better go: Pink Floyd, Brit mod–soul, female metal, punk and hip-hop collectables and Sunn O))) are calling me – in a metaphorical sense, not on my moby. I’d best get on with putting these stories on the pages for you… many thanks for reading this newsletter, and Record Collector magazine.
Have a great week,