A vague thought about Noel Gallagher

The sneering about Oasis was that he was using discarded Beatles middle eights to build entire songs around.

Harsh but fair.

Having just listened to Holy Mountain from the new album it appears that he’s moved on to using drum tracks from The Sweet. Maybe Ram Jam.

Progress.

This might well disqualify a music critic

What Holmstrom remembers of AC/DC is the band’s bone-simple, timeless approach. “They certainly weren’t your traditional heavy metal band,” he notes. “The heavy metal of the mid-70s was a ponderous, bombastic, slow music. They were a high-energy rock & roll band and, before the Sex Pistols changed the image of punk rock from faster and louder to a more political and anthemic music, AC/DC could be classified as punk.” Holmstrom continues, “Then again, so were the Bay City Rollers, Alice Cooper, the Stooges, the New York Dolls, Eddie and the Hot Rods, and hundreds more bands.

The Bay City Rollers as punk?

Hmm.

Glam for teenies rather more, no?

A good innings

You could argue for the rest of your life about what constitutes the first rock’n’roll record and, indeed, on the internet, there are people prepared to do that. An exhaustive 82-track 2011 compilation comes up with candidates for the title, with varying degrees of plausibility, and with tunes dating back to 1915.

But Fats Domino’s 1949 single The Fat Man has a stronger claim than most. Based on Junkers’ Blues, a 1940 track originally recorded by Champion Jack Dupree, there’s almost nothing to it. A pounding, unchanging backbeat and an insistent bass pulse; Domino on piano, playing in a style noticeably more aggressively than that of his peers; saxes and guitar buried so deep in the mix that you barely even spot them until the song’s finale; some falsetto scat singing and three verses that replace Junkers’ Blues’ references to cocaine, reefers and heroin with lyrics that laud both Domino’s bulk and his irresistible sexual abilities: “I weigh two hundred pounds, all the girls love me, because I know my way around.” It sold a million copies and transformed Domino overnight from the pianist in Billy Diamond’s Solid Senders, a locally popular New Orleans band, into a star.

That’s some record sales there:

Fats Domino, the New Orleans rhythm and blues singer whose hits include Blueberry Hill and Ain’t That a Shame, has died aged 89 of natural causes.

Domino, born in 1928 and one of nine siblings, left school at 14 to take on work in a bedspring factory – but went on to sell over 110m records in a career that took off in the mid-1950s, having learned piano on an upright a cousin left in his New Orleans family home.

I think, and am open to correction here, that the reason he doesn’t appear at the top of the lists of records sold is that most of these were 78s and then 45s, not albums.

Quite, quite, astonishing

The only uncomfortable bit of the night was its title: We Are Manchester. I looked around the Arena and saw almost exclusively white faces. You could blame it on the guitar bands, to whose charms the BAME community has largely remained immune. But high up on the bill was Bugzy Malone, a young black grime artist who raps about Manchester’s 0161 dial code, despite almost certainly never using a landline. Thirty-three per cent of the local population is not white. Where were they?

Music bill to appeal to largely white audience has largely white audience.

Amazing, eh?

And don’t you just love the incredibly racist assumption that darker people would all turn up because there’s a darker person on the bill?

Saves time

Where the streets have no statues: why do the Irish hate U2?

Another question in The Guardian we can answer.

To be fair, they’ve done some blindingly good music and definitely possess talent. But there’s an element of the ego has landed in there too.

Roaming some You Tube

And looking up lyrics of songs and so on, just a nice way to spend an hour:

Your beauty and kindness
Made tears clear my blindness
While I’m worth my room on this earth
I will be with you

Not a bad bit of a decent love song. In fact, that penultimate line I consider to be very good indeed. Will have to steal it at some point.

We can listen to Gary Glitter again folks

Eric Gill: can we separate the artist from the abuser?
Eric Gill was one of the great British artists of the 20th century – and a sexual abuser of his own daughters. A new exhibition at Ditchling asks: how far should an artist’s life affect our judgment of their work?

The answer seems to be aware of it and yet still admire and enjoy the art.

That’s good then, wanna be in my gang?

Entirely valid test this

So, to make things easier, I’ve invented the Sippican Cottage Musical Acid Test:

If you’re from Liverpool, and your composition is played Santuario-di-Madonna-di-San-Luca-skiffle style by five Bolognese men a half a century after you wrote it, you’re on to something with your approach to songwriting. That’s as far as I’ll go.

Akin to Bernard Levin’s idea of the historical filter.

We don’t know what it will be that survives our own cultural or artistic preoccupations and interests. But that historical filter does in fact work. We listen to more Mozart than Scalieri today and there’s nothing wrong with Scalieri’s stuff either, just Amadeus was rather better at it (or as it has been put, God simply poured his love for his creation through him).

Although we can take the odd bet on this. It’ll not be Madonna……

Well, yes

Not even the discovery that #sheeranalbumparty was a joke dreamt up by a Radio 1 DJ has spoilt my fun.

It’s a fairly obvious one given that Susan Boyle’s album was seriously promoted with the susanalbumparty tag

He’s got a point here

Another key moment for Rodgers was an argument he had with his jazz guitar teacher about the compositional merit of the Archies’ late-60s hit Sugar Sugar, which Rodgers ridiculed and resented having to play in a boogaloo covers band.

“Any song that sells and gets to the top 40 or top 10, any song is a great composition,” Rodgers recalled.

Sure, it’s manufactured schlock. And this is truly dreadful lip syncing.

It’s also artfully constructed and a rather good pop song.

Proper bubblegum music.