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Bob Dylan – Dylan

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Bob Dylan – Dylan

The planet that Bob Dylan has chronicled in 46 years’ worth of music has dissected him like no other poet/writer. It has lionised and scorned him; attempted to second-guess and third-degree him; argued about where he ‘lost it’ (1967? 1979? 1985?) and where it was regained. His career has survived the nadirs of Self Portrait, Live Aid and “Wiggle Wiggle”, recovering with a Lazarene miracle every time. His current status – irreproachable, near-godlike – has seen him release his most acclaimed three-album sequence since 1965–6. His name is Bob, and he is funky. And I’m a Dutchman. The Modern Times that was voted Uncut’s Album of 2006 is obviously a different Modern Times to the one I heard, which was full of antediluvian cocktail ditties that all went on forever. Love And Theft (2001) was patchy, but better, mainly because it couldn’t be worse. Time Out Of Mind (1997), a sedulous, clock-stopping masterpiece, is the one Dylan album of the past 15 years that really justifies the praise – but, like crying at the Johnny Cash video, unconditional Bob-worship has become the de rigueur critical opinion of the 21st century. Dylan, a 3-CD anthology the exact point of which is not easy to establish, will doubtless be a massive seller in the present climate, but it’s a lazy and unimaginative retrospective, unlikely to excite anyone who owns, cherishes, empathises with and/or has strong emotions about Dylan’s songcraft and studio work since 1962. In the end, the three discs take a predictable route – Classics Of The ’60s, Best-Known Tracks From The ’70s, and Let’s Make A Silk Purse Out Of The ’80s & Beyond. The first disc (1962–7) is the songbook that made Dylan the foremost folk/protest voice of the Kennedy–Johnson era and, from “Subterranean Homesick Blues” and “Maggie’s Farm” onwards, rock’s supreme Impressionist-Surrealist. There are 19 classics to enjoy, but, to borrow a phrase, no alarms and no surprises. Howmanyroadsmyblueeyedsondon’tcriticise whatyoudon’tbeatorcheatormistreatyoumixingupthemedicinejinglejanglenodirectionhomeyougottalottanervelikeawoman. Many of these standards are so historically over-exposed that they nowadays seem prosaic formalities, like tourist attractions to be ticked off on an itinerary. I think I’d rather visit the original albums, wouldn’t you? For another thing, a more adventurous selection procedure – “Gates Of Eden”, perhaps, or “Ballad In Plain D” – might have obscured some jarring aberrations in the sequencing. You don’t follow “Like A Rolling Stone” with “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue”, my sonically clueless friend. The contents of Dylan were, according to advance Columbia publicity, “greatly influenced by impassioned fan input on the website dylan07.com”. The second disc (1969–85), covering the journey from Nashville Skyline to Empire Burlesque, would undoubtedly have been more interesting if some of these impassioned fans had lobbied for the likes of “I Threw It All Away”, “Wedding Song”, “Idiot Wind”, “Lily, Rosemary And The Jack Of Hearts”, “Isis”, “Senor (Tales Of Yankee Power)”, “Lenny Bruce” or “Every Grain Of Sand”. As it is, their impassioned input has merely guaranteed the presence of 16 songs that would all have been chosen anyway. Ooeeridemehighfromthewestdowntotheeastmayyoustayforeveryoung soontobedivorcedbutitwon’tbeovertilltheyclearhisnamegottaservesomebody. You feel like putting your hand up halfway through “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” and saying, “Excuse me, didn’t we do all this?” An arch-conservative overview of Dylan inevitably negates any attempt to anthologise his sprawling, five-decade oeuvre in three CDs. Listening to disc two is tantamount to juggling with quicksilver while photographing poltergeists: you sort of don’t get much definition. However, you’ll certainly be sent scuttling back to Planet Waves, Blood On The Tracks, Desire and Street-Legal to hear that exotic, humid, passionate, mid-30s Dylan that this disc sporadically hints at. Because it contains some lesser-known material and spans a Dylan timeframe unfamiliar to compilations, disc three (1983–2006) is the one I play the most. The opening twosome, “Blind Willie McTell” and “Brownsville Girl”, is indeed courageous, taking up 17 minutes of laser-time and transporting the listener to two exceptionally evocative worlds. He really was writing good stuff in ’83–4, wasn’t he? It would be churlish to point out that the two songs don’t actually go together (their productions clash in horrible fashion); quite simply, they get the disc off to a flyer. The remaining 14 selections dip into Dylan albums both unpopular (Down In The Groove, Under The Red Sky) and lauded (Oh Mercy, the latter-day ‘trilogy’), as well as the curate’s eggs that were Good As I Been To You and World Gone Wrong. In fact, one of the most blissfully pleasurable sections on the entire anthology begins with choices from the latter two albums (“You’re Gonna Quit Me” and “Blood In My Eyes”), followed by “Not Dark Yet” (those gorgeously reverberating Daniel Lanois backdrops!), “Things Have Changed” (a belting single from 2000) and “Make You Feel My Love”. If Modern Times is to be Dylan’s final studio album, as the 2006 Rolling Stone interview seemed to suggest, then he ended his recording career with the same imagery he began it: the preoccupied artist trudging down a “long and lonesome road” (“Ain’t Talkin’”), fearing for the human race’s future, disgusted by our masters who “crush you with wealth and power”. One last diagnosis for the world he’d described to Woody Guthrie back in 1962 (“It looks like it’s dying and it’s hardly been born”)? Or just a sentimental reiteration of well-worn themes? Either way, as Dylan’s recent work has a habit of stressing, it’s gotten very, very late in the day. DAVID CAVANAGH

The planet that Bob Dylan has chronicled in 46 years’ worth of music has dissected him like no other poet/writer. It has lionised and scorned him; attempted to second-guess and third-degree him; argued about where he ‘lost it’ (1967? 1979? 1985?) and where it was regained. His career has survived the nadirs of Self Portrait, Live Aid and “Wiggle Wiggle”, recovering with a Lazarene miracle every time. His current status – irreproachable, near-godlike – has seen him release his most acclaimed three-album sequence since 1965–6. His name is Bob, and he is funky.

And I’m a Dutchman. The Modern Times that was voted Uncut’s Album of 2006 is obviously a different Modern Times to the one I heard, which was full of antediluvian cocktail ditties that all went on forever. Love And Theft (2001) was patchy, but better, mainly because it couldn’t be worse. Time Out Of Mind (1997), a sedulous, clock-stopping masterpiece, is the one Dylan album of the past 15 years that really justifies the praise – but, like crying at the Johnny Cash video, unconditional Bob-worship has become the de rigueur critical opinion of the 21st century.

Dylan, a 3-CD anthology the exact point of which is not easy to establish, will doubtless be a massive seller in the present climate, but it’s a lazy and unimaginative retrospective, unlikely to excite anyone who owns, cherishes, empathises with and/or has strong emotions about Dylan’s songcraft and studio work since 1962. In the end, the three discs take a predictable route – Classics Of The ’60s, Best-Known Tracks From The ’70s, and Let’s Make A Silk Purse Out Of The ’80s & Beyond.

The first disc (1962–7) is the songbook that made Dylan the foremost folk/protest voice of the Kennedy–Johnson era and, from “Subterranean Homesick Blues” and “Maggie’s Farm” onwards, rock’s supreme Impressionist-Surrealist. There are 19 classics to enjoy, but, to borrow a phrase, no alarms and no surprises. Howmanyroadsmyblueeyedsondon’tcriticise

whatyoudon’tbeatorcheatormistreatyoumixingupthemedicinejinglejanglenodirectionhomeyougottalottanervelikeawoman. Many of these standards are so historically over-exposed that they nowadays seem prosaic formalities, like tourist attractions to be ticked off on an itinerary. I think I’d rather visit the original albums, wouldn’t you? For another thing, a more adventurous selection procedure – “Gates Of Eden”, perhaps, or “Ballad In Plain D” – might have obscured some jarring aberrations in the sequencing. You don’t follow “Like A Rolling Stone” with “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue”, my sonically clueless friend.

The contents of Dylan were, according to advance Columbia publicity, “greatly influenced by impassioned fan input on the website dylan07.com”. The second disc (1969–85), covering the journey from Nashville Skyline to Empire Burlesque, would undoubtedly have been more interesting if some of these impassioned fans had lobbied for the likes of “I Threw It All Away”, “Wedding Song”, “Idiot Wind”, “Lily, Rosemary And The Jack Of Hearts”, “Isis”, “Senor (Tales Of Yankee Power)”, “Lenny Bruce” or “Every Grain Of Sand”. As it is, their impassioned input has merely guaranteed the presence of 16 songs that would all have been chosen anyway. Ooeeridemehighfromthewestdowntotheeastmayyoustayforeveryoung soontobedivorcedbutitwon’tbeovertilltheyclearhisnamegottaservesomebody. You feel like putting your hand up halfway through “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” and saying, “Excuse me, didn’t we do all this?”

An arch-conservative overview of Dylan inevitably negates any attempt to anthologise his sprawling, five-decade oeuvre in three CDs. Listening to disc two is tantamount to juggling with quicksilver while photographing poltergeists: you sort of don’t get much definition. However, you’ll certainly be sent scuttling back to Planet Waves, Blood On The Tracks, Desire and Street-Legal to hear that exotic, humid, passionate, mid-30s Dylan that this disc sporadically hints at.

Because it contains some lesser-known material and spans a Dylan timeframe unfamiliar to compilations, disc three (1983–2006) is the one I play the most. The opening twosome, “Blind Willie McTell” and “Brownsville Girl”, is indeed courageous, taking up 17 minutes of laser-time and transporting the listener to two exceptionally evocative worlds. He really was writing good stuff in ’83–4, wasn’t he? It would be churlish to point out that the two songs don’t actually go together (their productions clash in horrible fashion); quite simply, they get the disc off to a flyer.

The remaining 14 selections dip into Dylan albums both unpopular (Down In The Groove, Under The Red Sky) and lauded (Oh Mercy, the latter-day ‘trilogy’), as well as the curate’s eggs that were Good As I Been To You and World Gone Wrong. In fact, one of the most blissfully pleasurable sections on the entire anthology begins with choices from the latter two albums (“You’re Gonna Quit Me” and “Blood In My Eyes”), followed by “Not Dark Yet” (those gorgeously reverberating Daniel Lanois backdrops!), “Things Have Changed” (a belting single from 2000) and “Make You Feel My Love”.

If Modern Times is to be Dylan’s final studio album, as the 2006 Rolling Stone interview seemed to suggest, then he ended his recording career with the same imagery he began it: the preoccupied artist trudging down a “long and lonesome road” (“Ain’t Talkin’”), fearing for the human race’s future, disgusted by our masters who “crush you with wealth and power”. One last diagnosis for the world he’d described to Woody Guthrie back in 1962 (“It looks like it’s dying and it’s hardly been born”)? Or just a sentimental reiteration of well-worn themes? Either way, as Dylan’s recent work has a habit of stressing, it’s gotten very, very late in the day.

DAVID CAVANAGH

Babyshambles – Shotter’s Nation

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Babyshambles – Shotter’s Nation

Things being what they are in his world – which to say the least is a place of primary mayhem and collateral static – it’s eminently possible that Pete Doherty will celebrate the release of (i)Shotter’s Nation(i) behind bars. This is where, of course, a lot of people would like to see him. Especially those for whom Pete’s wholly a lost cause, a tawdry drug monster whose anyway debatable musical talent’s long-since been squandered, given up to a deplorable narcotic dependency he’s apparently as much unwilling as unable to shake, the wonder of his present circumstances merely that he hasn’t already been locked up and the key thrown away. Whatever dramas have recently engulfed him – the split with Kate Moss, another spell in the cells – there’s been nothing quite as bad as the extracurricular anarchy surrounding the release of Babyshambles’ 2005 debut, Down In Albion, when Pete for about a fortnight was being arrested up to twice a day - which was funny at first, but soon palled. Especially when the album came out and all anyone could talk about was his headlong decline into grubby junkiedom and lengthening rap sheet, a great record overlooked in the process – the music by then no more for most than an irrelevant sideshow. I was listening a lot to DIA even as the reviews rolled in, and with the traditional indignation of the thoroughly miffed fan wondered if its many critics were listening to the same record. According to what I was reading, DIA was badly produced (by former Clash guitarist Mick Jones, who also helmed to similar criticism the first two Libertines albums) and even more poorly played, the record a wonky mix of crackly indie rock, wittering ska jams and much dreamy blathering. What I on the other hand was listening to was a charismatic masterpiece, shaped brilliantly by Mick out of what by later agreement were traumatic sessions, a record that reminded me of some of my favourite albums, the kind born out of an inclination towards burn-out, disintegration and ruin – among them On The Beach, Tonight’s The Night and The Replacements’ All Shook Down. Where its noisy detractors heard doodling, scratchy mutterings and addled confusion, I heard the epic swell of “Up The Morning”, the blazing ache of “Merry Go Round” and blistering anthems like “Fuck Forever”, “8 Dead Boys” and “Pipedown”, all fuelled by Patrick Walden’s often amazing guitar. As I’ve already said in an online preview of Shotter’s Nation, DIA is not the kind of album you could make twice – not that any of the principals have volunteered any particular enthusiasm for going through what they did a second time – and you would not truly have expected its follow-up to sound much like it. And how could it anyway, with Pat gone and Mick replaced by Stephen Street? The latter has a formidable commercial reputation (The Smiths, Morrissey, Blur, Kaiser Chiefs, The Zutons), but like a lot of Shambles fans I was more than slightly worried what Babyshambles and their songs would sound like in his hands – the unpredictable spontaneous magic of DIA replaced, we all thought, by something more recognisably efficient, spruced up and conventionally presentable. In the event, as also already stated, to everyone’s relief, Street’s done a bang-up job – taking the raw materials of the widely-circulated Bumfest demos and giving them a gleaming burnish. As you will correctly expect, Street entirely avoids DIA’s flinty spectrality and staticky crackle and turns a bright light on the smart, compact and relentlessly exciting arrangements he’s here coaxed from the band. Babyshambles on Shotter’s Nation sound quite frighteningly functional. Street gives them a big, surging sound – supernaturally bright guitars, walloping drums, upfront bass, choruses as big as houses - that reminds me weirdly of The Attractions on This Year’s Model, a comparison that suggested itself the first time I played the album and which I haven’t been able to shake since. As perhaps unlikely as it seems, Shotter’s Nation has the same brash confidence and punchy abandoned swagger, tunes that once heard are nigh on impossible to dislodge from even the creakiest memory. The album’s lyrical template is firmly set on opener “Carry On Up The Morning”, which anticipates the record’s recurring themes of loyalty, betrayal, weary explanation, self-recrimination and brazen defiance. Pete flirts here as he does elsewhere with self-pity, but remains eventually too resolute for whimpering introspection. The glorious self-mythologising of “Unbilotitled” and “Unstookietitled” is bracingly inspirational, no hint of contrition on these smouldering, achingly pretty tracks that convert the serial chaos of his life into absolutely gripping musical drama, the latter partly inspired by a guitar riff from “Fuck Forever”, from which it quotes the “one and the same, one and the same” refrain. I suppose the album eventually is about transcendence – through music, through drugs, sex, a pair of sharply cut trousers, anything basically that will lift you out of the stifling rut of ordinary living, the clammy mediocrity of a life conventionally lived, which seems to be Pete’s great fear. “Delivery” – fired by the classic riff from The Kinks’ “All Day And All Of The Night” – the ferocious “Crumb Begging”, and the sensationally uplifting twin peaks of the insanely catchy “French Dog Blues” (with a blazing instrumental coda reminiscent of The Who) and “Deft Left Hand” (with a ringing guitar intro reminiscent of the Stones’ “All Down The Line”) are all truly rousing anthems, the latter giving way to the mournful closer, “The Lost Art Of Murder”, featuring Pete and folk legend Bert Jansch on superb acoustic guitar. Written off as a pathetic joke, a seedy chancer, as uncommonly reviled by his critics as he is genuinely adored by his fans, for some still a disaster waiting to happen and as compromised by his addictions as he continues to be, Pete nevertheless here sounds ready to take on all comers. Seconds out, ring that bell! ALLAN JONES

Things being what they are in his world – which to say the least is a place of primary mayhem and collateral static – it’s eminently possible that Pete Doherty will celebrate the release of (i)Shotter’s Nation(i) behind bars.

This is where, of course, a lot of people would like to see him. Especially those for whom Pete’s wholly a lost cause, a tawdry drug monster whose anyway debatable musical talent’s long-since been squandered, given up to a deplorable narcotic dependency he’s apparently as much unwilling as unable to shake, the wonder of his present circumstances merely that he hasn’t already been locked up and the key thrown away.

Whatever dramas have recently engulfed him – the split with Kate Moss, another spell in the cells – there’s been nothing quite as bad as the extracurricular anarchy surrounding the release of Babyshambles’ 2005 debut, Down In Albion, when Pete for about a fortnight was being arrested up to twice a day – which was funny at first, but soon palled. Especially when the album came out and all anyone could talk about was his headlong decline into grubby junkiedom and lengthening rap sheet, a great record overlooked in the process – the music by then no more for most than an irrelevant sideshow.

I was listening a lot to DIA even as the reviews rolled in, and with the traditional indignation of the thoroughly miffed fan wondered if its many critics were listening to the same record. According to what I was reading, DIA was badly produced (by former Clash guitarist Mick Jones, who also helmed to similar criticism the first two Libertines albums) and even more poorly played, the record a wonky mix of crackly indie rock, wittering ska jams and much dreamy blathering.

What I on the other hand was listening to was a charismatic masterpiece, shaped brilliantly by Mick out of what by later agreement were traumatic sessions, a record that reminded me of some of my favourite albums, the kind born out of an inclination towards burn-out, disintegration and ruin – among them On The Beach, Tonight’s The Night and The Replacements’ All Shook Down. Where its noisy detractors heard doodling, scratchy mutterings and addled confusion, I heard the epic swell of “Up The Morning”, the blazing ache of “Merry Go Round” and blistering anthems like “Fuck Forever”, “8 Dead Boys” and “Pipedown”, all fuelled by Patrick Walden’s often amazing guitar.

As I’ve already said in an online preview of Shotter’s Nation, DIA is not the kind of album you could make twice – not that any of the principals have volunteered any particular enthusiasm for going through what they did a second time – and you would not truly have expected its follow-up to sound much like it. And how could it anyway, with Pat gone and Mick replaced by Stephen Street?

The latter has a formidable commercial reputation (The Smiths, Morrissey, Blur, Kaiser Chiefs, The Zutons), but like a lot of Shambles fans I was more than slightly worried what Babyshambles and their songs would sound like in his hands – the unpredictable spontaneous magic of DIA replaced, we all thought, by something more recognisably efficient, spruced up and conventionally presentable. In the event, as also already stated, to everyone’s relief, Street’s done a bang-up job – taking the raw materials of the widely-circulated Bumfest demos and giving them a gleaming burnish. As you will correctly expect, Street entirely avoids DIA’s flinty spectrality and staticky crackle and turns a bright light on the smart, compact and relentlessly exciting arrangements he’s here coaxed from the band. Babyshambles on Shotter’s Nation sound quite frighteningly functional.

Street gives them a big, surging sound – supernaturally bright guitars, walloping drums, upfront bass, choruses as big as houses – that reminds me weirdly of The Attractions on This Year’s Model, a comparison that suggested itself the first time I played the album and which I haven’t been able to shake since. As perhaps unlikely as it seems, Shotter’s Nation has the same brash confidence and punchy abandoned swagger, tunes that once heard are nigh on impossible to dislodge from even the creakiest memory.

The album’s lyrical template is firmly set on opener “Carry On Up The Morning”, which anticipates the record’s recurring themes of loyalty, betrayal, weary explanation, self-recrimination and brazen defiance. Pete flirts here as he does elsewhere with self-pity, but remains eventually too resolute for whimpering introspection. The glorious self-mythologising of “Unbilotitled” and “Unstookietitled” is bracingly inspirational, no hint of contrition on these smouldering, achingly pretty tracks that convert the serial chaos of his life into absolutely gripping musical drama, the latter partly inspired by a guitar riff from “Fuck Forever”, from which it quotes the “one and the same, one and the same” refrain.

I suppose the album eventually is about transcendence – through music, through drugs, sex, a pair of sharply cut trousers, anything basically that will lift you out of the stifling rut of ordinary living, the clammy mediocrity of a life conventionally lived, which seems to be Pete’s great fear. “Delivery” – fired by the classic riff from The Kinks’ “All Day And All Of The Night” – the ferocious “Crumb Begging”, and the sensationally uplifting twin peaks of the insanely catchy “French Dog Blues” (with a blazing instrumental coda reminiscent of The Who) and “Deft Left Hand” (with a ringing guitar intro reminiscent of the Stones’ “All Down The Line”) are all truly rousing anthems, the latter giving way to the mournful closer, “The Lost Art Of Murder”, featuring Pete and folk legend Bert Jansch on superb acoustic guitar.

Written off as a pathetic joke, a seedy chancer, as uncommonly reviled by his critics as he is genuinely adored by his fans, for some still a disaster waiting to happen and as compromised by his addictions as he continues to be, Pete nevertheless here sounds ready to take on all comers. Seconds out, ring that bell!

ALLAN JONES

Carbon/Silicon – The Last Post

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Carbon/Silicon – The Last Post

Mick Jones and Tony James met in the mid-seventies as teenage fans of Mott The Hoople. After a brief spell as London S.S - hey, we were all young once - they went on to form The Clash and Generation X respectively. Thirty years, and a mighty long way down rock’n’roll later, they’ve reunited, still grooving on the same ideas and fired up by the download revolution, itself an update of punk’s DIY ethic. Understandably, they’ve a lot to get off their chests. Over twelve tracks, we get subjects ranging from global terrorism (“The Magic Suitcase”) to the war in Iraq (“Oil Well”) to the human condition (“Why Do Men Fight?”) all delivered in Jones’ unmistakeable adenoidal twang. It’s a disarming mix. The Kinks-esque riff-rock “The Whole Truth” and “What The Fuck” could be gonzo out-takes from The Clash, whilst a rip-roaring “Caesar’s Palace” updates “Lost In The Supermarket” to a world where consumerism has run wild. Age has clearly brought wisdom, but Jones’n’ James also understand no one needs a lecture; far more satisfying to be mischief-making pranksters than finger-wagging polemicists. Accordingly, “The National Anthem” is a fluid, funky plea for unity (“I believe in houses, safety, free power”) whilst “Really The Blues” alludes darkly to a wasted talent “blowing a fuse”. Not that Jones ever dodges the issue. “So it’s red tops versus cokeheads in a cultural civil war/ At least I know what I’m fighting for” he hollers in “War On Culture”, a clear two-fingers to the the scandal-sheets who plagued his time producing Babyshambles' Down In Albion. That said, The Last Post isn’t without it’s frailities. It’s too long , while songs like “Oil Well” lack the structure to match the weight of its ideas. However, for sheer cranked-up joie de vivre, it outstrips bands half their age. PAUL MOODY Q&A: MICK JONES UNCUT: Why The Last Post? JONES: “It’s about being the band being the last stand for culture, and standing up against the onslaught of mediocrity. But it could also mean the last email in your inbox” Did being a new band give you more freedom? Definitely. We tried to ignore the legacy (laughs). There’s no expectations. We’re not doing anyone down, or make a point, we’re trying to move things forward in a positive way. It’s an honest thing. It’s a very forthright record... The great thing about being in a band is being able to say what you think. We’ve been bashed down by society to behave ourselves, but the truth is everyone’s life is a bit chaotic. A realistic representation of life, for a lot of us, is something like Shameless. You try to get what happiness you can in snatched moments. And the rest is struggle.”

Mick Jones and Tony James met in the mid-seventies as teenage fans of Mott The Hoople. After a brief spell as London S.S – hey, we were all young once – they went on to form The Clash and Generation X respectively. Thirty years, and a mighty long way down rock’n’roll later, they’ve reunited, still grooving on the same ideas and fired up by the download revolution, itself an update of punk’s DIY ethic.

Understandably, they’ve a lot to get off their chests. Over twelve tracks, we get subjects ranging from global terrorism (“The Magic Suitcase”) to the war in Iraq (“Oil Well”) to the human condition (“Why Do Men Fight?”) all delivered in Jones’ unmistakeable adenoidal twang. It’s a disarming mix. The Kinks-esque riff-rock “The Whole Truth” and “What The Fuck” could be gonzo out-takes from The Clash, whilst a rip-roaring “Caesar’s Palace” updates “Lost In The Supermarket” to a world where consumerism has run wild.

Age has clearly brought wisdom, but Jones’n’ James also understand no one needs a lecture; far more satisfying to be mischief-making pranksters than finger-wagging polemicists. Accordingly, “The National Anthem” is a fluid, funky plea for unity (“I believe in houses, safety, free power”) whilst “Really The Blues” alludes darkly to a wasted talent “blowing a fuse”.

Not that Jones ever dodges the issue. “So it’s red tops versus cokeheads in a cultural civil war/ At least I know what I’m fighting for” he hollers in “War On Culture”, a clear two-fingers to the the scandal-sheets who plagued his time producing Babyshambles‘ Down In Albion. That said, The Last Post isn’t without it’s frailities. It’s too long , while songs like “Oil Well” lack the structure to match the weight of its ideas. However, for sheer cranked-up joie de vivre, it outstrips bands half their age.

PAUL MOODY

Q&A: MICK JONES

UNCUT: Why The Last Post?

JONES: “It’s about being the band being the last stand for culture, and standing up against the onslaught of mediocrity. But it could also mean the last email in your inbox”

Did being a new band give you more freedom?

Definitely. We tried to ignore the legacy (laughs). There’s no expectations. We’re not doing anyone down, or make a point, we’re trying to move things forward in a positive way. It’s an honest thing.

It’s a very forthright record…

The great thing about being in a band is being able to say what you think. We’ve been bashed down by society to behave ourselves, but the truth is everyone’s life is a bit chaotic. A realistic representation of life, for a lot of us, is something like Shameless. You try to get what happiness you can in snatched moments. And the rest is struggle.”

John Fogerty – Revival

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John Fogerty – Revival

The astonishing run of 10 top 40 hits Fogerty masterminded for Creedence Clearwater Revival between 1969 –1970 cast a daunting shadow over every move he has made since. Even on solo reawakenings (1984's Centrefield, 97's Blue Swamp Moon) unfinished business with old band and his old record company loomed large. Now, after years of court actions, Fogerty says its "surreal" to be back on the Creedence Fantasy label, cause of so much legal pain. And indeed there's something surreal - and inspirational – about the album itself. 'Revival' lives up to its title, providing 12 songs that, while rooted in an idealistic, mythic American, offer rallying cries that are as blisteringly contemporary as "Fortunate Son" or poignantly timeless as "Who'll Stop The Rain". From the opening "Don't You Wish It Was Time", Creedence's secular rock gospel provides the template. "Gunslinger" calls for old west/Old testament style retribution with tender longing, while "Creedence Song" is the most explicit of several examples of a man at peace with - and determined to extend - his legacy. Continuity is the key here, as Fogerty reprises the paranoia of "Run Through The Jungle" for the Bush-baiting guitar and harp clangour of "Long Dark Night". There's striking self-awareness in "Broken Down Cowboy" and a fiercely moralistic pot shot at rich and famous rehab rockers on the incensed and inflamed "It Ain't Right". Then, barely pausing to draw breath, Fogerty roars into the vehement anti Iraq war tirade "I Can't Take It No More": a breakneck tirade that says more in 1 minute 38 seconds than the whole of Neil Young's lumbering 'Living With War' album. "Longshot" is a valiant finale – a Fogerty mission statement delivered with raw cheek and whip-crack humour. Reassessing the past and reengaging with the present, 'Revival' lives up to its name. One of American pop culture's most potent and direct voices just threw down the rocking insurrection gauntlet, right on time. GAVIN MARTIN Q and A: JOHN FOGERTY What effect did settling your dispute with Fantasy have on your songwriting? JF:"It made a big difference to me as a person, emotionally and psychologically. Being relieved of all that anger and bitterness definitely helped free up my creative process. I feel like I am back in the sunshine now." The songs have several references to your past... "The album title was my wife's idea. For obvious reasons I wasn't too keen on it but just went with the flow. With this record I decided to stay in the middle of rock ‘n’ roll. Staying in rock n roll was quite a discipline because as you get older you develop a lot of interests." George Bush is a presence throughout the album, has he been an inspiration? "Years ago I used to say that Richard Nixon is an endless source of inspiration, maybe it's the same with Bush but I hate to give him that much credit." INTERVIEW: GAVIN MARTIN

The astonishing run of 10 top 40 hits Fogerty masterminded for Creedence Clearwater Revival between 1969 –1970 cast a daunting shadow over every move he has made since. Even on solo reawakenings (1984’s Centrefield, 97’s Blue Swamp Moon) unfinished business with old band and his old record company loomed large.

Now, after years of court actions, Fogerty says its “surreal” to be back on the Creedence Fantasy label, cause of so much legal pain. And indeed there’s something surreal – and inspirational – about the album itself. ‘Revival’ lives up to its title, providing 12 songs that, while rooted in an idealistic, mythic American, offer rallying cries that are as blisteringly contemporary as “Fortunate Son” or poignantly timeless as “Who’ll Stop The Rain”.

From the opening “Don’t You Wish It Was Time”, Creedence’s secular rock gospel provides the template. “Gunslinger” calls for old west/Old testament style retribution with tender longing, while “Creedence Song” is the most explicit of several examples of a man at peace with – and determined to extend – his legacy.

Continuity is the key here, as Fogerty reprises the paranoia of “Run Through The Jungle” for the Bush-baiting guitar and harp clangour of “Long Dark Night”. There’s striking self-awareness in “Broken Down Cowboy” and a fiercely moralistic pot shot at rich and famous rehab rockers on the incensed and inflamed “It Ain’t Right”.

Then, barely pausing to draw breath, Fogerty roars into the vehement anti Iraq war tirade “I Can’t Take It No More”: a breakneck tirade that says more in 1 minute 38 seconds than the whole of Neil Young‘s lumbering ‘Living With War’ album. “Longshot” is a valiant finale – a Fogerty mission statement delivered with raw cheek and whip-crack humour. Reassessing the past and reengaging with the present, ‘Revival’ lives up to its name. One of American pop culture’s most potent and direct voices just threw down the rocking insurrection gauntlet, right on time.

GAVIN MARTIN

Q and A: JOHN FOGERTY

What effect did settling your dispute with Fantasy have on your songwriting?

JF:”It made a big difference to me as a person, emotionally and psychologically. Being relieved of all that anger and bitterness definitely helped free up my creative process. I feel like I am back in the sunshine now.”

The songs have several references to your past…

“The album title was my wife’s idea. For obvious reasons I wasn’t too keen on it but just went with the flow. With this record I decided to stay in the middle of rock ‘n’ roll. Staying in rock n roll was quite a discipline because as you get older you develop a lot of interests.”

George Bush is a presence throughout the album, has he been an inspiration?

“Years ago I used to say that Richard Nixon is an endless source of inspiration, maybe it’s the same with Bush but I hate to give him that much credit.”

INTERVIEW: GAVIN MARTIN

More on “I’m Not There” and Neil Young’s “Chrome Dreams II” plus Battles

John Mulvey
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Fairly curious listening day in the Uncut office, even by our standards, I think, which reached a pinnacle of sorts with a new Dead Kennedys 'Best Of' (how poppy they sound now) rubbing up next to a Martin Carthy & Dave Swarbrick reissue from 1966, I think. Another thorough play of the "I'm Not There" soundtrack, which I blogged about yesterday, reveals it to be a really consistently excellent bit of work. To add to all the tracks I highlighted yesterday, a couple more that leaped out today: Stephen Malkmus, again, ripping through "Maggie's Farm"; the imperious Mark Lanegan's take on "The Man In The Long Black Coat" (sounding, as ever with Lanegan, as if it was recorded on granite); and John Doe, finding a staunch, revivalist fervour in "Pressing On". Antony Hegarty really needs to find another party trick, though, after a second play of his incredibly predictable procession through "Knockin' On Heaven's Door". Thanks, too, for your comments on the Neil Young blog I posted a couple of weeks ago. As a bit of a bootleg ignoramus, I'm particularly interested in David Wilson's comment: "I'd rather have seen 'Grey Riders' & 'Gateway Of Love' - in my opinion NY's best unreleased songs,13 minutes is the right length for 'Ordinary People', extending it to 18 minutes and tinkering with the verses - no thanks." I'm beginning to think, though, that the version of "Ordinary People" is actually a studio recording from the late '80s rather than a brand new take, not least because there are some slightly incongruous keyboard sounds that don't fit in with the rest of the album. "Ordinary People" doesn't really fit in with the rest of the record, of course, being earthbound rather than spiritual in subject matter. But it's the textural detail that makes me suspect this one has fallen out of the "Archives". One last thing, today. I'm perpetually kicking myself for not having seen Battles live in spite of numerous chances (I did blog about their album here, though). I was reminded of this by a live take on "Leyendecker" that comes on their new "Tonto" EP; further proof, I suppose, that they've given post-rock a new fluidity that's far removed from all those programmatic crypto-shoegazers like Explosions In The Sky who trade under the name these days. Better still, there's a remix of "Tonto" by someone called The Field who I must admit ignorance of, though the press biog tells me he's on the excellent German label Kompakt, so I've probably got something by him on a comp somewhere. Anyway, his "Tonto" is a relentless cut-up electronica piece that keeps surging again and again and again; Battles with their metal chops removed, but their force and belligerence still intact. Makes a change from all the Bob and Neil business, you know. . .

Fairly curious listening day in the Uncut office, even by our standards, I think, which reached a pinnacle of sorts with a new Dead Kennedys ‘Best Of’ (how poppy they sound now) rubbing up next to a Martin Carthy & Dave Swarbrick reissue from 1966, I think.

Continue

Cut Of The Day: The Smiths 1987 Special

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Cut Of The Day: The Smiths 1987 Special

Today is another UNCUT video clip special commemorating the 20th anniversary of The Smith's final LP 'Strangeways, Here We Come'. The album's only singles were 'Girlfriend In A Coma' and 'Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me.' Here's our Smiths 1987 video special: Sheila Take A Bow on Top Of The Pops/ April 1987: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xcFEf8PzDuw Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yx6dHmYD6c8 Girlfriend In A Coma: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2tdF6ziim7E

Today is another UNCUT video clip special commemorating the 20th anniversary of The Smith‘s final LP ‘Strangeways, Here We Come‘.

The album’s only singles were ‘Girlfriend In A Coma‘ and ‘Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me.’

Here’s our Smiths 1987 video special:

Sheila Take A Bow on Top Of The Pops/ April 1987:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xcFEf8PzDuw

Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yx6dHmYD6c8

Girlfriend In A Coma:

Springsteen Images Go On Show Prior To UK Concert

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Springsteen Images Go On Show Prior To UK Concert

A new exhibition of classic Bruce Springsteen images is to go on show at the end of this month. Running from October 26 to December 2, Bruce Springsteen: The Boss Revealed will feature photography by globally renowned rock photographers who have had intimate access throuhout his career. The portrait collection features personal insights from Terry O'Neill (picture above), Lynn Goldsmith, Barry Plummer, Adrian Boot and Jim Marchese amongst others. Marchese commented that his trip through Europe with the Bruce and the E Street Band in 1981 was: "One of the most exhilarating assignments of my career. Being asked to take part in this exhibition gives me the chance to share some exciting and intimate moments featuring one of the most amazing artists of our time.” The exhibition takes place at the central London Proud Gallery to coincide with Springsteen's world tour, his first reunited with the E Street Band in five years. The tour winds up at London's 02 Arena on December 19. Full details about the world and european tour are available here. More details about the Springsteen exhibition are available from the Proud website here: www.proud.co.uk. Entrance is free. Pic credit: Terry O'Neill

A new exhibition of classic Bruce Springsteen images is to go on show at the end of this month.

Running from October 26 to December 2, Bruce Springsteen: The Boss Revealed will feature photography by globally renowned rock photographers who have had intimate access throuhout his career.

The portrait collection features personal insights from Terry O’Neill (picture above), Lynn Goldsmith, Barry Plummer, Adrian Boot and Jim Marchese amongst others.

Marchese commented that his trip through Europe with the Bruce and the E Street Band in 1981 was: “One of the most exhilarating assignments of my career. Being asked to take part in this exhibition gives me the chance to share some exciting and intimate moments featuring one of the most amazing artists of our time.”

The exhibition takes place at the central London Proud Gallery to coincide with Springsteen’s world tour, his first reunited with the E Street Band in five years. The tour winds up at London’s 02 Arena on December 19.

Full details about the world and european tour are available here.

More details about the Springsteen exhibition are available from the Proud website here: www.proud.co.uk.

Entrance is free.

Pic credit: Terry O’Neill

The Verve Announce 2nd Set Of UK Dates

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The Verve Announce 2nd Set Of UK Dates

The Verve have announced a second set of UK live dates, after their original series of shows, taking place next month sold out. The band comprising original band members Richard Ashcroft, Nick McCabe, Simon Jones and Pete Sailsbury will now play four shows in December - starting at London's 02 Arena on December 13. Tickets for the shows will go on sale this Friday, October 5 at 10am (BST). Fans who subscribe to The Verve's mailing list at www.theverve.tv will be able to purchase tickets a day earlier on the 4th, via a password link. The new dates are: London O2 Arena (December 13) Glasgow SECC (15) Belfast Odyssey Arena (17) Manchester Central (20) The band's November dates are: Glasgow Academy (November 2,3) Blackpool Empress Ballroom (5,6) London Roundhouse (8,9)

The Verve have announced a second set of UK live dates, after their original series of shows, taking place next month sold out.

The band comprising original band members Richard Ashcroft, Nick McCabe, Simon Jones and Pete Sailsbury will now play four shows in December – starting at London’s 02 Arena on December 13.

Tickets for the shows will go on sale this Friday, October 5 at 10am (BST).

Fans who subscribe to The Verve’s mailing list at www.theverve.tv will be able to purchase tickets a day earlier on the 4th, via a password link.

The new dates are:

London O2 Arena (December 13)

Glasgow SECC (15)

Belfast Odyssey Arena (17)

Manchester Central (20)

The band’s November dates are:

Glasgow Academy (November 2,3)

Blackpool Empress Ballroom (5,6)

London Roundhouse (8,9)

Hard-Fi and Robert Plant Kick Off New Series Of Later…

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Hard-Fi and Robert Plant Kick Off New Series Of Later…

Later... With Jools Holland returns to BBC2 for it's 30th series next month, and the artists taking part have been revealed. Hard-Fi will kick off proceedings appearing on the first of the seven shows - playing material from their second album 'Once Upon A Time In The West'. Other artists confirmed to play the weekly jamboree are Robert Plant with Alison Krauss, Arcade Fire Richard Hawley, PJ Harvey, Manu Chao and Richard Thompson. More artists are still to be confirmed for the show which airs from November 2 at 11.35pm.

Later… With Jools Holland returns to BBC2 for it’s 30th series next month, and the artists taking part have been revealed.

Hard-Fi will kick off proceedings appearing on the first of the seven shows – playing material from their second album ‘Once Upon A Time In The West’.

Other artists confirmed to play the weekly jamboree are Robert Plant with Alison Krauss, Arcade Fire Richard Hawley, PJ Harvey, Manu Chao and Richard Thompson.

More artists are still to be confirmed for the show which airs from November 2 at 11.35pm.

Uncut’s Worst Gigs! – Extra!

Uncut
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Uncut’s Worst Gigs! – Extra!

In last month's UNCUT, our writers, friends and favourite musicians reminisced about their favourite gigs. Well, in this month’s issue we’re looking back on the worst gigs we’ve ever seen - including The Stone Roses, Bob Dylan, Kevin Rowland and David Bowie - with rare photos from the shows too. We're also going to publish one of the worst gigs every day, so feast your eyes on this, and be glad you weren’t there! ***** BLACK GRAPE The Forum, Livingston February, 1996 DAMIEN LOVE: For one reason and another, I saw Black Grape five times in 1996-97. Four times, they were fantastic, like Dylan fronting Sly and the Rolling Stones. This was the other time. The evening started badly, running late from Glasgow the only way to get to Livingston on time on a Sunday was to take a taxi from Edinburgh. Turned out the driver had less clue than we had where the place was. We drove increasingly lost around some desolate industrial estate for about 30 minutes before he asked a passerby where the town centre was.“This is the town centre.” We found the Forum by following the police vans. A rain-streaked cattle shed, surrounded by ranks of tired-looking cops and a growing, restless army of “disenfranchised youth” without tickets, all sweaty stares and evil haircuts. Going in, two hopelessly out-of-it guys were being forcibly ejected, one covered in vomit. Inside, the toilets had overflowed through the foyer where the burger stands had set up, meaning you had wade through piss-beer and brownish-grey floating things that might have been meat, I hope. When Black Grape hit the stage, the sound was like listening to a bootleg from 1983 through a wall. Shaun Ryder was slurred and incoherent between songs and on autopilot when singing. We were pressed against the back wall of the sweat-box, and I realised we were leaning on climbing bars that stretched to the ceiling. I made the mistake of looking up, to discover a 6-foot, 16-stone psychopath hanging pissed and precarious from the top bars, 30 feet directly above our necks. When it finished, we made the mistake of trying to get out the back doors, to be met by a line of cops trying to hold back a rioting army of local bastards who had bust the door from its hinges and were, insanely, trying to break in even through the gig was over. At the bus station, around 30 lost souls cowered in the shadows, desperate to get the hell out. After about 45 minutes, news spread there were no more buses out of Livingston at this time of night. You could hear the shouts and howls – and was that screams? – coming from the Forum’s darkened carpark now. The cops had all gone home. My partner and I eventually resolved to start walking. We set out three times, in three different directions. Three times, we wound up back at the now deserted bus station. It was like being in the fucking Prisoner. There was no escape. Finally, we struck out along another road. After about twenty minutes, we realised we were actually walking along the empty motorway itself, although we had no idea what direction we were going in. Did I mention it had started snowing? A real, stinging Scottish fucking white-out blinding blizzard? At this point, Black Grape’s tour bus swished passed us. You could just see them through the steamed-up windows. The seemed to be having a good time. This was when my partner started crying. About 20 minutes later – it must have been well after one in the morning now - we found a Hilton roadside motel and staggered in, two fearful, wretched creatures out of the night trailing snow, to the astonishment of the skeleton staff. They kindly allowed us to phone a cab. It cost £115 just to get home. 1996 money. ***** plus WERE YOU THERE? Not even UNCUTs war-weary gig-hounds have been to every show in history – but you lot probably have. Email Allan_Jones@ipcmedia.com to share your memories, of the ones we've published or any which we have missed, and we’ll publish the best in a future issue!

In last month’s UNCUT, our writers, friends and favourite musicians reminisced about their favourite gigs.

Well, in this month’s issue we’re looking back on the worst gigs we’ve ever seen – including The Stone Roses, Bob Dylan, Kevin Rowland and David Bowie – with rare photos from the shows too.

We’re also going to publish one of the worst gigs every day, so feast your eyes on this, and be glad you weren’t there!

*****

BLACK GRAPE

The Forum, Livingston

February, 1996

DAMIEN LOVE:

For one reason and another, I saw Black Grape five times in 1996-97. Four times, they were fantastic, like Dylan fronting Sly and the Rolling Stones. This was the other time.

The evening started badly, running late from Glasgow the only way to get to Livingston on time on a Sunday was to take a taxi from Edinburgh. Turned out the driver had less clue than we had where the place was. We drove increasingly lost around some desolate industrial estate for about 30 minutes before he asked a passerby where the town centre was.“This is the town centre.”

We found the Forum by following the police vans. A rain-streaked cattle shed, surrounded by ranks of tired-looking cops and a growing, restless army of “disenfranchised youth” without tickets, all sweaty stares and evil haircuts. Going in, two hopelessly out-of-it guys were being forcibly ejected, one covered in vomit. Inside, the toilets had overflowed through the foyer where the burger stands had set up, meaning you had wade through piss-beer and brownish-grey floating things that might have been meat, I hope. When Black Grape hit the stage, the sound was like listening to a bootleg from 1983 through a wall. Shaun Ryder was slurred and incoherent between songs and on autopilot when singing.

We were pressed against the back wall of the sweat-box, and I realised we were leaning on climbing bars that stretched to the ceiling. I made the mistake of looking up, to discover a 6-foot, 16-stone psychopath hanging pissed and precarious from the top bars, 30 feet directly above our necks. When it finished, we made the mistake of trying to get out the back doors, to be met by a line of cops trying to hold back a rioting army of local bastards who had bust the door from its hinges and were, insanely, trying to break in even through the gig was over.

At the bus station, around 30 lost souls cowered in the shadows, desperate to get the hell out. After about 45 minutes, news spread there were no more buses out of Livingston at this time of night. You could hear the shouts and howls – and was that screams? – coming from the Forum’s darkened carpark now. The cops had all gone home. My partner and I eventually resolved to start walking. We set out three times, in three different directions. Three times, we wound up back at the now deserted bus station. It was like being in the fucking Prisoner. There was no escape.

Finally, we struck out along another road. After about twenty minutes, we realised we were actually walking along the empty motorway itself, although we had no idea what direction we were going in. Did I mention it had started snowing? A real, stinging Scottish fucking white-out blinding blizzard? At this point, Black Grape’s tour bus swished passed us. You could just see them through the steamed-up windows. The seemed to be having a good time. This was when my partner started crying. About 20 minutes later – it must have been well after one in the morning now – we found a Hilton roadside motel and staggered in, two fearful, wretched creatures out of the night trailing snow, to the astonishment of the skeleton staff. They kindly allowed us to phone a cab. It cost £115 just to get home. 1996 money.

*****

plus WERE YOU THERE?

Not even UNCUTs war-weary gig-hounds have been to every show in history – but you lot probably have.

Email Allan_Jones@ipcmedia.com to share your memories, of the ones we’ve published or any which we have missed, and we’ll publish the best in a future issue!

Acropolis Now — Uncut at Athens Film Festival, Blog the Second

Michael Bonner
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UNCUT's Stephen Dalton reports from the Athens Film Festival... The closing weekend of the Athens Film Festival and your Uncut reporter is still working hard on your behalf. On Friday night I do a live interview with Theo Ioannou on Athens International Radio. He grills me about pop, politics, the music business and Uncut’s editorial policy. I bluff and waffle for over an hour, but Theo is polite enough not to laugh in my face. A gruelling weekend schedule follows. I mooch around the Acropolis in sweltering heat and slip away to the beach on the swish new post-Olympics tram. All over Athens I encounter packs of stray dogs and cats which the city authorities have neutered, vaccinated, tagged and set free again. An inspired idea. No wonder these people invented civilisation. The demanding task of choosing the festival’s best music documentary now looms for me and my fellow jurors in the Music & Film section. Actually, it’s not exactly Twelve Angry Men, more like a landslide decision. We all have our favourites – Rani Singh’s The Old, Weird America, a portrait of legendary freak-folk archivist Harry Smith, is full of rich characters and great music. Likewise Love Story by the British directors Mike Kerry and Chris Hall, a homage to the crazed genius of Arthur Lee, which comes to selected UK cinemas later this month. But the jury’s unanimous vote gives the Music & Film prize to Swiss director Stefan Schwietert for Echoes Of Home, a remarkable documentary about modern musicians reviving and re-imagining Switzerland’s yodelling tradition. Unlikely as it sounds, this is a moving and profound piece of audio-visual art, full of beautiful and arresting images. One of my fellow jurors is the celebrated movie producer Christine Vachon, whose long list of prestige credits includes Kids, Velvet Goldmine and Boys Don’t Cry. She stays onstage after Sunday night’s prize-giving to introduce a gala screening of I’m Not There, the much-discussed journey into Bob Dylan mythology by director Todd Haynes, which Vachon produced. The film has been previewed in Uncut before after last month’s Venice premiere, but it merits a few extra remarks here. I’m Not There is thick with ideas, formally daring, sometimes confusing, and not always entertaining - but it stays with you long afterwards. Cate Blanchett’s transformation into a Virtual Dylan in his wired, arrogant, druggy, electric-beatnik mid 1960s prime is stunning. Packed with direct quotes and knowing distortions from the singer’s many lives, it may well anger Dylan fundamentalists. But open-minded scholars will be unpicking this dense, dreamlike poem of a film for years. After the screening, the festival’s closing party takes place in an opulent bar in an open-air courtyard. All human life is here, plus the odd stray Alsatian, snoozing in the middle of the floor. This being Athens, rowdy celebrations go on until dawn, but sleeping dogs are left to lie. It’s been a long, strange, sometimes even stressful week. But would I come back again? You bet. STEPHEN DALTON

UNCUT’s Stephen Dalton reports from the Athens Film Festival…

The closing weekend of the Athens Film Festival and your Uncut reporter is still working hard on your behalf. On Friday night I do a live interview with Theo Ioannou on Athens International Radio. He grills me about pop, politics, the music business and Uncut’s editorial policy. I bluff and waffle for over an hour, but Theo is polite enough not to laugh in my face.

Continue

Ask John Lydon A Question!

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Ask John Lydon A Question!

Uncut is interviewing John Lydon for a forthcoming An Audience With... feature -- and we're after your questions! Is there anything you've wanted to ask the great man? About his days as Public Enemy No 1 in the Sex Pistols? His PiL years? Or munching on witchettygrubs in the Austalian bush? Want to discuss the punk's latest reunion? Send us your questions by this Friday, October 5 to: uncutaudiencewith@ipcmedia.com Pic credit: PA Photos

Uncut is interviewing John Lydon for a forthcoming An Audience With… feature — and we’re after your questions!

Is there anything you’ve wanted to ask the great man?

About his days as Public Enemy No 1 in the Sex Pistols?

His PiL years?

Or munching on witchettygrubs in the Austalian bush?

Want to discuss the punk’s latest reunion?

Send us your questions by this Friday, October 5 to:

uncutaudiencewith@ipcmedia.com

Pic credit: PA Photos

More on that ‘new’ Dylan album – including a title!

Uncut
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I don’t know how he’s come by the information, but I’ve had an email from the splendidly-named Raul Spendliv, who has more news on the ‘new’ Bob Dylan album I mentioned in this space recently. While a few readers thought reports of a new Bob album, to be produced by Rick Rubin, were merely rumours with not much to them, Raul has details of an actual album title and three of the tracks either recorded or at least written for the album. According to Raul, the record has the tentative title of Anchor, and the three tracks so far worked on are: “What Angel Fell”, “Hard Lines” and “Coming In From The Cold”. If anyone has any more news on this, let me know.

I don’t know how he’s come by the information, but I’ve had an email from the splendidly-named Raul Spendliv, who has more news on the ‘new’ Bob Dylan album I mentioned in this space recently.

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CUT of the Day: Check Out The New Radiohead Album

Uncut
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CUT of the Day: Check Out The New Radiohead Album

Today's clips are a preview of what the forthcoming, highly anticipated new Radiohead album will sound like. As reported this morning, Radiohead are going to sell their seventh album directly to fans via their website, with fans able to pay what they think it should cost for a copy of the download version. Uncut's sister title NME has trawled through YouTube today to find live video clips of the band previewing the forthcoming album material. Check out the preview of the whole of the new album 'In Rainbows' - HEREbarring one track, 'Faust Arp' which has not been played live yet.

Today’s clips are a preview of what the forthcoming, highly anticipated new Radiohead album will sound like.

As reported this morning, Radiohead are going to sell their seventh album directly to fans via their website, with fans able to pay what they think it should cost for a copy of the download version.

Uncut‘s sister title NME has trawled through YouTube today to find live video clips of the band previewing the forthcoming album material.

Check out the preview of the whole of the new album ‘In Rainbows’ – HEREbarring one track, ‘Faust Arp’ which has not been played live yet.

Bob Dylan covered by Vedder, Sonic Youth, Calexico, Cat Power, Yo La Tengo, Malkmus, McGuinn, Tweedy, Willie Nelson,Sufjan, Verlaine, The Hold Steady. . . Is the title long enough yet?

John Mulvey
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I've been spending the past hour or so working my way through this soundtrack to Todd Haynes' Dylan movie, I'm Not There. I must admit to a bit of scepticism about the film, having actively despised Haynes' Velvet Goldmine, and been faintly terrified by the convoluted plotting and detail that was reported here. Good soundtrack, mind. Dylan has been better served by cover versions than most great artists, of course, and while I can't immediately spot anything here that bears comparison with the best efforts of, say, The Byrds and Fairport Convention, there's a very good feel to a lot of the music here; a nice mixture between wild mercury reverence and sensitive,imaginative reinvention. What's immediately apparent is the good taste of whoever corralled these musicians. The closest analogue is that Stu Sutcliffe movie, Backbeat, and the all-star band focused around Sonic Youth, Eddie Vedder and so on who provided Beatles covers on the soundtrack. They return for "I'm Not There", alongside friends in a wily bar band agglomeration called The Million Dollar Bashers. Vedder and the band's take on "All Along The Watchtower" is a bit windy, but Stephen Malkmus proves a likeably idiosyncratic frontman on a clutch of sinewy tracks, notably a pinched, organ-heavy take on "Ballad Of A Thin Man". And Karen O from The Yeah Yeah Yeahs steps up for a mighty "Highway 61 Revisited", very much in the vein of PJ Harvey's version of the same song. The other house band on these two CDs, it seems, is the estimable Calexico, who back up a terrific bunch of frontmen: gilded Dylan interpreter Roger McGuinn ("Cold Irons Bound"); Charlotte Gainsbourg ("Just Like A Woman", a bit arch); Iron & Wine ("Dark Eyes"); My Morning Jacket's Jim James (a quite lovely "Goin' To Acapulco"); and best of all, Willie Nelson taking "Senor" deep into border country. What else? The Hold Steady's "Can You Please Crawl Out Of Your Window?" sounds uncharacteristically stiff on first listen, while some of the gentler hands (Mira Billotte from the undervalued White Magic, Yo La Tengo, Sufjan Stevens in customary indie-baroque mode for "Ring Them Bells") handle the weight of Bobness more gracefully. This is turning into more of a list than a review, isn't it? Well Jeff Tweedy is stripped and dignified on "Simple Twist Of Fate", Cat Power is pretty boisterous on "Stuck Inside Of Mobile. . ." (I wonder if Chan Marshall's upcoming second covers album will be as swinging and conventional as this?), and Rambling Jack Elliot outDylans Dylan on "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues". As he should. Tom Verlaine's po-faced, crepuscular and rather good "Cold Irons Bound" has just finished. Jack Johnson is still cobblers, and maybe when I've listened to all this properly a few more times I might have more cogent critical thoughts. Forgive me, I've just moved house these past few days and discovered many powerful things, not least that 1)The Smiths' "Hatful Of Hollow" is excellent for checking your incompetently unpacked turntable is playing at the right speed; 2) the first Stooges album is superb for unpacking in general, even "We Will Fall", as is "Hot Charity" by Rocket From The Crypt; and 3) this new Bruce Springsteen/E Street Band album is really good, and historically I don't even like Springsteen much. I think I've changed, not him, though. . .

I’ve been spending the past hour or so working my way through this soundtrack to Todd Haynes’ Dylan movie, I’m Not There. I must admit to a bit of scepticism about the film, having actively despised Haynes’ Velvet Goldmine, and been faintly terrified by the convoluted plotting and detail that was reported here.

Continue

Led Zeppelin Ticket Ballot Results Are Due

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Led Zeppelin Ticket Ballot Results Are Due

Rock fans hoping to attend next month's Led Zeppelin one-off reunion show - will find out by 11pm tonight if they have been successful in the ballot to obtain tickets. The concert is to take place on November 26 at London's 02 Arena as a tribute show to Atlantic records' founder Ahmet Ertegun. Fans who wanted to go had to register their details to be in a lottery to be able to purchase the £125 tickets. Unprecendented demand from around the world saw the dedicated concert website www.ahmetttribute.com crash under weight of internet traffic. On closing, the ballot had attracted over 1000,000,000 page impressions chasing just 20,000 tickets. Led Zeppelin's last full concert took place in Berlin in July 1980, shortly before the death of the band's original drummer John Bonham. It was announced on September 12 by Harvey Goldsmith that he'd persuaded the band to reunite for the one-off performance in honour of Ertegun. Bonham's position will be taken up by his son Jason, also an accomplished drummer. Proceeds from the show will pay for student's scholarship funds set up in Ertegun's memory. Despite speculation that the band would tour if the show went well, Robert Plant has told Uncut that this is definitely the only performance they will do. See the full news report here. Pic credit: Rex Features

Rock fans hoping to attend next month’s Led Zeppelin one-off reunion show – will find out by 11pm tonight if they have been successful in the ballot to obtain tickets.

The concert is to take place on November 26 at London’s 02 Arena as a tribute show to Atlantic records’ founder Ahmet Ertegun. Fans who wanted to go had to register their details to be in a lottery to be able to purchase the £125 tickets.

Unprecendented demand from around the world saw the dedicated concert website www.ahmetttribute.com crash under weight of internet traffic. On closing, the ballot had attracted over 1000,000,000 page impressions chasing just 20,000 tickets.

Led Zeppelin‘s last full concert took place in Berlin in July 1980, shortly before the death of the band’s original drummer John Bonham.

It was announced on September 12 by Harvey Goldsmith that he’d persuaded the band to reunite for the one-off performance in honour of Ertegun. Bonham’s position will be taken up by his son Jason, also an accomplished drummer.

Proceeds from the show will pay for student’s scholarship funds set up in Ertegun’s memory.

Despite speculation that the band would tour if the show went well, Robert Plant has told Uncut that this is definitely the only performance they will do. See the full news report here.

Pic credit: Rex Features

The National Add Extra Date To UK Jaunt

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The National Add Extra Date To UK Jaunt

US indie band The National have announced an extra show in London next month. They will now play a second night at London's Shepherd's Bush Empire on November 8, in addition to their previously announced show on the 7th. The band have been touring the US since the release of 'The Boxer' album for Beggars Banquet in May this year. The band fronted by Matt Berninger have performed only four shows in the UK this year, including a great show at the Latitude Festival this July. Catch the band at the following venues next month: Glasgow, ABC (November 2) Sheffield, Leadmill (3) Manchester, Academy 2 (4) Birmingham, Irish Centre (6) London, Shepherd's Bush Empire (7 / 8) Bristol, Anson Rooms (9) Portsmouth, Pyramids (10) For more information visit The National's official website here.

US indie band The National have announced an extra show in London next month.

They will now play a second night at London’s Shepherd’s Bush Empire on November 8, in addition to their previously announced show on the 7th.

The band have been touring the US since the release of ‘The Boxer’ album for Beggars Banquet in May this year. The band fronted by Matt Berninger have performed only four shows in the UK this year, including a great show at the Latitude Festival this July.

Catch the band at the following venues next month:

Glasgow, ABC (November 2)

Sheffield, Leadmill (3)

Manchester, Academy 2 (4)

Birmingham, Irish Centre (6)

London, Shepherd’s Bush Empire (7 / 8)

Bristol, Anson Rooms (9)

Portsmouth, Pyramids (10)

For more information visit The National’s official website here.

Uncut’s Worst Gigs!

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Uncut’s Worst Gigs!

In last month's UNCUT, our writers, friends and favourite musicians reminisced about their favourite gigs. Well, in this month’s issue we’re looking back on the worst gigs we’ve ever seen - including The Stone Roses, Bob Dylan, Kevin Rowland and David Bowie - with rare photos from the shows too. We're also going to publish one of the worst gigs every day, so feast your eyes on this, and be glad you weren’t there! ***** Swans Town & Country Club, London 14 October 1987 JOHN LEWIS: One of those gigs where you're not entirely sure whether it's the coolest or the most horrific thing you've ever seen. I wasn't sure at the time and, nearly 20 years on, I'm still not sure. Performances from Michael Gira's Swans around the time of "Children Of God" have since gone down in history as arse-quaking noise-fests so intense that people were shitting themselves, vomitting, crying, running for the exits, etc. Anyone from the Guinness Book Of Records who insists that The Who's gig at Charlton's football ground was the loudest of all time should have been stationed somewhere near the speakers during their set. I tried to convince myself that I was enjoying myself until my liver started vibrating oddly and I started to feel sick. My mate thought I was being soft when I left the moshpit, but then he threw up outside the tube station on the way home. Queasy listening, eh? Oddly, the rest of the evening was quite pleasant - I seem to remember the support acts were The Dave Howard Singers (you know, "my name is Yon Yonson/I live in Wisconsin/I work in the lumber mill there") and the Sugarcubes (possibly their first ever UK gig). But Mr Gira and vomit-inducing blow-out has all but erased the memory from my neural paths. ***** plus WERE YOU THERE? Not even UNCUTs war-weary gig-hounds have been to every show in history – but you lot probably have. Email Allan_Jones@ipcmedia.com to share your memories, of the ones we've published or any which we have missed, and we’ll publish the best in a future issue!

In last month’s UNCUT, our writers, friends and favourite musicians reminisced about their favourite gigs.

Well, in this month’s issue we’re looking back on the worst gigs we’ve ever seen – including The Stone Roses, Bob Dylan, Kevin Rowland and David Bowie – with rare photos from the shows too.

We’re also going to publish one of the worst gigs every day, so feast your eyes on this, and be glad you weren’t there!

*****

Swans

Town & Country Club, London

14 October 1987

JOHN LEWIS:

One of those gigs where you’re not entirely sure whether it’s the coolest or the most horrific thing you’ve ever seen. I wasn’t sure at the time and, nearly 20 years on, I’m still not sure. Performances from Michael Gira‘s Swans around the time of “Children Of God” have since gone down in history as arse-quaking noise-fests so intense that people were shitting themselves, vomitting, crying, running for the exits, etc.

Anyone from the Guinness Book Of Records who insists that The Who‘s gig at Charlton’s football ground was the loudest of all time should have been stationed somewhere near the speakers during their set. I tried to convince myself that I was enjoying myself until my liver started vibrating oddly and I started to feel sick. My mate thought I was being soft when I left the moshpit, but then he threw up outside the tube station on the way home. Queasy listening, eh?

Oddly, the rest of the evening was quite pleasant – I seem to remember the support acts were The Dave Howard Singers (you know, “my name is Yon Yonson/I live in Wisconsin/I work in the lumber mill there”) and the Sugarcubes (possibly their first ever UK gig). But Mr Gira and vomit-inducing blow-out has all but erased the memory from my neural paths.

*****

plus WERE YOU THERE?

Not even UNCUTs war-weary gig-hounds have been to every show in history – but you lot probably have.

Email Allan_Jones@ipcmedia.com to share your memories, of the ones we’ve published or any which we have missed, and we’ll publish the best in a future issue!

Radiohead Reveal Shock Album Release Tactics

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Radiohead Reveal Shock Album Release Tactics

Radiohead have officially confirmed that their seventh studio album has been completed, and that it will be available for download in just ten days' time. The announcement that the album, entitled 'In Rainbows' is ready comes after previous speculation by fans last week, when a series of hieroglyphic codes appeared on a hoax websiteclaiming to be by the band and saying the LP was ready. A message posted yesterday by Radiohead guitarist Jonny Greenwood on the official band read: "Hello everyone. Well, the new album is finished, and it's coming out in 10 days; We've called it 'In Rainbows'. Love from us all. Jonny." The website links to the album release's pre-order form - where details are given that the new release will be available as a download purchase from October 10 - while a 'discbox' containing two 12" vinyl records plus CD will be available for shipping from December 3. The band who have been without a record label since completing their EMI contract have also announced that they are to leave it up to their fans to decide how much to pay for the highly anticipated new album via the download only format. They will leave the price field blank on the pre-order form. The heavyweight vinyl set will cost £40. The album will for now only be available via the band's official website. A 'traditional CD release' is being planned for early 2008. The tracklisting for 'In Rainbows' is: '15 Step' 'Bodysnatchers' 'Nude' 'Weird Fishes/Arpeggi' 'All I Need' 'Faust Arp' 'Reckoner' 'House Of Cards' 'Jigsaw Falling Into Place' 'Videotape' Plus a further eight new Radiohead tracks will be available on the second CD, included in the discbox: 'MK 1' 'Down Is The New Up' 'Go Slowly' 'MK 2' 'Last Flowers' 'Up On The Ladder' 'Bangers And Mash' '4 Minute Warning' Pic credit: PA Photos

Radiohead have officially confirmed that their seventh studio album has been completed, and that it will be available for download in just ten days’ time.

The announcement that the album, entitled ‘In Rainbows‘ is ready comes after previous speculation by fans last week, when a series of hieroglyphic codes appeared on a hoax websiteclaiming to be by the band and saying the LP was ready.

A message posted yesterday by Radiohead guitarist Jonny Greenwood on the official band read: “Hello everyone. Well, the new album is finished, and it’s coming out in 10 days; We’ve called it ‘In Rainbows’. Love from us all. Jonny.”

The website links to the album release’s pre-order form – where details are given that the new release will be available as a download purchase from October 10 – while a ‘discbox’ containing two 12″ vinyl records plus CD will be available for shipping from December 3.

The band who have been without a record label since completing their EMI contract have also announced that they are to leave it up to their fans to decide how much to pay for the highly anticipated new album via the download only format.

They will leave the price field blank on the pre-order form.

The heavyweight vinyl set will cost £40.

The album will for now only be available via the band’s official website. A ‘traditional CD release’ is being planned for early 2008.

The tracklisting for ‘In Rainbows’ is:

’15 Step’

‘Bodysnatchers’

‘Nude’

‘Weird Fishes/Arpeggi’

‘All I Need’

‘Faust Arp’

‘Reckoner’

‘House Of Cards’

‘Jigsaw Falling Into Place’

‘Videotape’

Plus a further eight new Radiohead tracks will be available on the second CD, included in the discbox:

‘MK 1’

‘Down Is The New Up’

‘Go Slowly’

‘MK 2’

‘Last Flowers’

‘Up On The Ladder’

‘Bangers And Mash’

‘4 Minute Warning’

Pic credit: PA Photos

John Lennon Festival Begins In The Scottish Highlands

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John Lennon Festival Begins In The Scottish Highlands

The John Lennon Northern Lights Festival has begun in remote north-west Scotland today. The three-day event, which features a mixture of music and poetry, takes place in the village of Durness, in an area where Lennon used to go on holiday as a child. As well as featuring a talk by the late Beatle’s half-sister Julia Baird, the weekend boasts performances from King Creosote, John Cooper Clarke and Carol Ann Duffy. German Beatles tribute act Lucy In The Sky are also set to perform at the event, which has a capacity of only 1,100 people.

The John Lennon Northern Lights Festival has begun in remote north-west Scotland today.

The three-day event, which features a mixture of music and poetry, takes place in the village of Durness, in an area where Lennon used to go on holiday as a child.

As well as featuring a talk by the late Beatle’s half-sister Julia Baird, the weekend boasts performances from King Creosote, John Cooper Clarke and Carol Ann Duffy.

German Beatles tribute act Lucy In The Sky are also set to perform at the event, which has a capacity of only 1,100 people.

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