This piece was originally written a month, maybe even six weeks ago, but I was waiting on permission from various sides to post it. In the interim, the Trashcans suddenly, unexpectedly and shockingly lost John Douglas, their glue and calming balm, and so any queries for permission to use it were quite rightly forgotten. Lest… Continue reading Optimistically Speaking
I’m a sucker for a well-sung harmony. You know the sort of thing, a radiant Gibb brothers burst of aural sunshine, a California-coated Mamas and Papas heart melter, a slow-ooze of Bellshill Beach Boys triple-stacked greatness from the three original Teenage Fanclubbers out front with the mics and the guitars and the great, great tunes.… Continue reading E Harmony
I’ve been asked a few times the past week where folk can pick up copies of my Trashcan Sinatras books. The Perfect Reminder was initially available through Last Night From Glasgow, but it seems they have no stock left. If you’re so inclined, you’ll find the last dozen copies at that most obvious of retailers.… Continue reading Weller-Approved
John Douglas 1963 – 2026 “How’s it gaun? Y’awright?” These were usually John Douglas’s first words, whether one or two songs into a set with the Trashcan Sinatras, or more recently out front on his own, but also any time you met him. Throwaway (and maybe even insincere when spoken by anyone else), but delivered… Continue reading Everything Was Enhanced By You
The boy always had bikes. From the moment he spied his big sister’s, he wanted one of his own. He had a wee yellow Halfords-made thing, a Stinger, all go-faster stripes and cartoon wasps with helmet to match, and it wasn’t long before he was cycling death-defying circles on the front grass, the stabilisers dispensed… Continue reading The Freewheelin’ Blog Thrillin’
Odd band, The Strokes. They’ve got – or maybe nowadays since they’ve made some real money – they had something of a classic rock ‘n roll look; battered Levi’s and even more battered leather, tiny t-shirts and tight, tight pants, in their dirty Converse and winkle pickers and moneyed Manhattan sidewalk sneakers an array of… Continue reading It Takes A Lot Of Hard Work To Look Like You’re Not Working Hard
Jimmy Smith is the bridge between jazz and soul, a colossus of his chosen instrument who had one well-tailored foot firmly planted in the camp marked ‘strictly no sell out’ and the other in the camp marked ‘unfortunately I’ve got bills to pay.’ A master of the Hammond B-3 organ, his playing was a deep… Continue reading Shack Up
It’s a well-written fact over the years that Tomorrow Never Knows was the first track The Beatles recorded for Revolver. Barely out of short trousers, The Beatles turned to studio-as-instrument and created a thumping and droning kaleidoscope of looped sound – an aural collage a million miles from, yet merely 33 months since, they’d released… Continue reading Circulatory
Brian Epstein, in possibly one of the first genius music marketing moves, had The Beatles record a couple of vocal tracks in German, the idea being that the fans in the country where the group had served their musical apprenticeship would be rewarded with a Beatles hit or two in their native language. Abba did… Continue reading Silly Billy
American groups – like any number of those Nuggets bands you can reel off in your sleep – or The Turtles or The Byrds (‘animal’ name, weird spelling – coincidence?!?) grew their mom’s apple pie American boy crewcuts out the moment The Beatles first yelled ‘yeah!‘ They adopted the instruments…the stance…the harmonies…everything they could that… Continue reading Has High Blood Pressure Got A Hold On Me?
