My turquoise waistcoat is quite out of sight

For some reason “Vegetable Man” seems to have been my song of the night. So here we go, with the (rather belatedly) officially released version:

Alternately, a somewhat different mix from what I presume is an older bootleg source:

And the Jesus & Mary Chain cover:

Parenthetically, it was on account of this song that I spent the most money I ever paid for a seven-inch single… cos this was the B-side of J&MC’s first single “Upside Down” and they persistently refused to give it a CD release for years (not even on Barbed Wire Kisses), so when I found the single at Red Eye some time in the late 90s I bought it for this. Fifty dollars for a seven-incher. I think it finally came out on CD about ten years later.

And finally, a mightily brave young man:

Did you see the frightened ones?

So a while ago I posted a picture of 1970-era King Crimson about which I said Andy McCulloch and Gordon Haskell were pretending to be happy to be there just before that version of the band disintegrated. This picture of Wall “tour”-era Pink Floyd is even sadder when you know the state they were in at the time. This looks like a band trying to pretend they haven’t already disintegrated. Rick Wright wasn’t actually a member of the band by this point, with Roger Waters having booted him during the recording sessions, but with hindsight it looks like Wright’s being kind of cocky cos he knows he’s the only one of the four who’ll make money from the tour because he’s on a salary now, and the remaining trio are putting on a collective brave face at the fact they’re about to lose nearly half a million pounds between them.

Ten

According to Facebook memories, we had apparently reached the point in Covid lockdown three years ago where there was some meme going round of what your ten most influential albums were… being me, I decided to post them all in one hit rather than over ten days like other, more sensible people were doing; and, being me, I thought it might be interesting to repost them here. In no particular order.

The 1998 box set expansion of the legendary 1972 compilation Nuggets. I always loved mid- to late-60s music when I was younger, but I think this was when I really started going down some of the more obscure by-ways of that era.

The Beatles Box (which we had on cassette, still do somewhere). As good a Beatles best-of, all eight vinyl records or six tapes of it, as you could still hope for.

Black Sabbath, Paranoid. Probably my first heavy metal album when I was 17? Probably. The weird thing is, even though I considered myself an atheist already by that age, I still found myself unnerved by the whole Satanism thing, something seemed dangerous about it. Took me years to realise how silly it actually was…

Edgar(d) Varèse, going back to first year of university. I did first year music at UNSW and one part of the course was the many listening examples we were expected to be able to identify in the tests… and M. Varèse’s Ionisation was one of those in the last part of the course when we were doing twentieth century music. The UNSW library had it on a somewhat crusty old 1959 LP, so I got that out and… boom. After months of not being terribly excited by what I’d been hearing in class, this… thing just suddenly spoke to (or screamed at) me in a way most of the other stsuff we’d been doing hadn’t done. Varèse kind of blew the 20th century open for me, and I must say, most of what I do now enjoy from earlier centuries I like in spite of, not because of, that class. I was delighted to find this very album on CD a few years later (alas, I’ve never seen the follow-up album on CD).

The Doors, Classics, which I now realise is a truly perplexing collection (I mean, look at that track selection). What sort of Doors best-of would leave out “Light My Fire”? This one. But I was 15 and I’d suddenly become obsessed with that song (thanks Triple M) and wanted to hear more by them, and this was what Brash’s at Eastgardens (yeah, that‘s how long ago it was) had immediately available and I didn’t know any better… and, strange as the track choices are in hindsight, a lot of them are actually still some of my favourites by them.

Brian Eno, Music for Airports. I remember the local library having this on cassette (again, that‘s how long ago this was). It took a surprising amount of effort, but it became one of my favourites eventually.

Glenn Gould’s 1955 Goldberg Variations. Much like how the Varèse album opened me up to “modern” music, this kind of opened me up to much earlier music, a lot of which I’d frankly found quite dull before this. You cannot accuse this of being a “historically informed performance” in any way, but I felt there was more music in this than in most of the “informed” period instrument recordings I’d heard by that time. I’ve come around to HIP recordings as I’ve aged, of course, but I still find this vital.

Sex Pistols, Bollocks, Baby’s first punk album.

Pink Floyd, Relics. I recall one of the postmen at Matraville Post Office when Mum was there (yet again, that‘s how long ago this was) giving me a loan of this on cassette (it had that particular cover, too)… a slightly odd collection of pre-1970 stuff, singles, B-sides, a few album tracks, one unreleased song, and I loved it. You never heard anything on radio at that time which predated Dark Side, so this was my first exposure to any of that early stuff.

Keith Jarrett, The Köln Concert. Another library find I remember taking a random punt on (this time they had it on CD, not tape), I don’t know why but good thing I did. I spent a certain part of my late teens and early twenties trying to get my head around jazz (which is something I’m only really starting to succeed at now) and I’m glad I found this as my first Jarrett album; I soon discovered I only really like him when he’s doing solo piano improv (I make an exception for Hymns/Spheres, which is solo organ improv). If I’d picked up one of his standards albums or other ensemble works or other instrument works (again excepting Hymns/Spheres) and not liked that, I might’ve been put off trying this afterwards. My loss.

We don’t need no reconciliation

Lovely. This is the latest installment in the never-ending fight between Roger Waters and David Gilmour, in which the latter’s wife takes potshots at the former, and which David concurs with, apparently forgetting he also made a point of dodging his taxes in 1978/79 when the whole band, including him and not just Roger, went into tax exile while making The Wall. I mean, fuck Roger for being a Putin apologist (I don’t know about the other charges Polly levels at him, though I presume the “antisemitic” thing is something to do with him supporting Palestinians), but Dave’s not always been a model of moral superiority himself.

And I got snapped at on Facebook for making this point, someone noted the vast quantities of money Gilmour has apparently donated to charity, which is great, I’m all for that, I wasn’t aware of his charitable works. I’m just saying that accusing someone else of tax-dodging when you did it yourself with them entails at least a bit of hypocrisy. Oh well. No point hoping for better from these two alleged adults by this point…

Sure you don’t need that education?

So Pink Floyd, or whatever passes for them these days, are gearing up for the 50th anniversary of their most famous album, but because it’s 2023 and the Internet is still a thing, this is apparently the sort of response they’ve been getting from people who I can only assume have never seen what that album’s cover art was. DINOSAUR BAND USE GAY COLOURS ME NO LISTEN NO MORE! Good thing the band never went with this originally, hey…

Cold shafts of broken glass

Some years ago I read biographies of the Beatles and Pink Floyd one after the other, and having finished the latter I remember thinking “gods, Pink Floyd look like grown adults next to the Fabs”. That said, the bullshit over the liner notes to the 2018 remix of Animals that meant it took four years to finally come out demonstrated that when all’s said and done Gilmour and Waters are still pissy little children at heart. Syd would’ve been more than usually bemused had he lived that long…

Anyway, I gave said remix another listen tonight… don’t know how great the differences are beyond one or two really obvious ones, more a case of the overall sound being kind of bigger and fuller. Works fine for me either way. Like Low, which came out only a week before this, it looks like a strange album to have appeared in 1977 when punk was starting to blossom, and yet, in its way, it was also about as punk as Pink Floyd could’ve got… also the point where they really turned into the Roger Waters Band; with Gilmour only contributing to one song and Wright not writing anything, Roger was running the show. Given how miserable the ensuing tour seems to have been for all involved (with Wright threatening to quit at one point), maybe the show should’ve stopped there? But then, of course, the misery of the experience gave Roger the idea for another album…