Skip to main content

Powderfinger


It wasn't Queen for me. I enjoyed it, sure, but my main turn on at Live Aid came from Philly, not Wembley. I'd attempted to bond with Neil Young before, been lent a copy of Decade by a Freebird-singing would-be hippie. Maybe that's what put me off initially. My ears heard California whine instead of maple leaf rock. How could The Old Laughing Lady and The Loner remained ignored at the end of my musical subway car?
It changed that July day in 1985. 39-year old Neil Young, slinging his Bigsby-armed Black Beauty, white sawn-off t-shirt and, as far as I could see, patch-free jeans, delivered a blistering Powderfinger and I, just turned twenty-two and was what to do, was hooked.
I'd been moved before: one1979 Easter holdiday mid-morning MOR Radio One DJ had played
Welfare Mothers from Rust Never Sleeps in some afterthought spurt of new music after his fabled Our Tune segment had left another legion of housewives Kleenex-clutching..Why, I don't know but I'm glad he did. I filed it in my head as Out There and never forgot it. Occasionally Decade would play in some "back for a smoke and some Floyd man" residence but my ears had flapped closed for the Floyd and in the company of those stonedly celebrating patched-jean Neil, Decade wasn't enough to open them again.
In the winter of 89/90 I was working out in Bishopbriggs and one of my colleagues was an early twentysomething Duane Allman lookalike called Gerry. He gave me my first (of two) tastes of Buckfast and a further turn on to Neil. I think it was through Gerry that I first heard Barstool Blues and in the crisp Scottish winter, sparkle flashes of its poetry - "burn off all the fog and let the sun through to the snow" fused with a searingly Television/Richard Thompsonesque solo and a riff of relentless electric lifeforce to splendidly life-affirming effect. Thanks, Neil. Thanks, Gerry. I got connected to Zuma's clean winter morning guitars, balanced left and right just like the stripped-down New York album by Lou Reed. On Danger Bird I heard Crazy Horse invent Joy Division.
In the winter of 89/90 in the back of that Bishopbriggs office I was experiencing Zuma for thefirst time, and the Young reaching my ears seemed to be back in that the forward-lurching place Barstool Blues suggested with its relentless riffing urgings, rusting proudly on the march, welding like a demon till it would start fuckin' up in all its Ragged Glory. The NME and Sonic Youth and Neil Young were a holy trinity of proto grungathon celebration.
I remember Gerry bringing in a cassette of some fresh Neil Young tracks from a Japanese import e.p., Eldorado, some of which had ended up on the Freedom album and some of which, like Cocaine Eyes, didn't. These tracks, at the end of 1989, seemed like they were being delivered from the end of the world. From this dark place I couldn't have fore-heard the country contentment of Harvest Moon. But back then I wasn't that well-versed in Neil's habitually tuning on a sonic dime. Sleeps With Angels would chase the Harvest Moon from a haunted city dark place. A honed consolidation before the swerve back to Martin from Gibson: Ragged Glory would help me see in 1991 in the company of Neil, Crazy Horse, Douglas and Fran. Within a month it was over and over with Fran and I hardnosed the highway a hundred yards across Great Western Road to an attic room in a bedsit in Ruskin Place where, thanks to Kinardo, as February brought tight snows I became immersed in the far-off caught in time delights of Van Morrison's Too Late To Stop Now.
That was also the time to reinvestigate that crash-pad staple, Decade. Grooving to Mr. Soul, I copped out to the change while a stranger was putting the tease on. Or as I heard it "while a stranger is putting the teas on." Another Youngian line I could connect with. recalling after hours revelry in someone's flat, maybe even my bedsit, where I would grow 2 a.m. hazy while someone I'd just met that evening put on a brew. Didn't matter I'd misheard it. I'm sure Neil had similar experiences back in the old folkie days. Days he carried through with the dark night envelopment of Eldorado to 2010's Le Noise. I'd never heard the legendary Hitchhiker in any Inca-rnation before. It, and its companion tracks, blew me away in the lacquered one-man. two-man darkness, blew me AWAY.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Velvet Underground in Edinburgh

Hearing that the Velvet Underground were playing the Playhouse was mind-blowing. And not one but two shows – I remember saying one must be for Sister Ray and the other for the rest of the material. I’d read that the Velvets had played Heroin live in 1990 but the idea of them getting together half a mile from where I grew up was crazy: my favourite group reuniting after 25 years (with Cale) or 23 years (with Reed) and doing it on Greenside Place – it was outrageous. I’d had a little VU history with the venue as in early 1982 I’d seen Nico play at the Nite Club (directly above the Playhouse) with the Blue Orchids. At one point she mentioned L-oooo-uuuu Reeeeed was soon to play in London and the thought of him playing 393 miles away was pretty exciting in itself. I didn’t know she’d stayed in Edinburgh and was living in Manchester. I was aware of Rab from The Scars but, living away from the city, hadn’t realised they’d briefly lived together in Stockbridge, frequenting bars on St St...
Post a Comment
Read more

Paul Haig

Paul Haig interviewed by Roy Moller for isthismusic? magazine, August 2007. Sammy Davis Jr. knew what he was singing about: the rhythm of life is a powerful beat. For twenty-five years, Rhythm Of Life’s been an imprint for numerous Paul Haig projects since his first solo ventures after the break-up of the gloriously edgy Josef K.Haig’s independent label Rhythm Of Life Inc has just released Electronik Audience, an album that finds him inspired by Kraftwerk/Yello-style electropop, and seminal Iggy Pop l.p. The Idiot. “When I first heard Iggy it was just my cup of tea - a deep monotone voice …instantly appealing”, recounts Haig with a wry smile: there’s a decidedly Iggy/Lou Reed timbre to his baritone and The Idiot’s well-turned lyrical economy continues to exert its influence. “Words that are quite choice and direct can really portray a whole feeling. So I was purposely trying to hold back on the lyrics as well”. Electronik Audience started taking shape when, one Sunday afternoon, Haig s...
Post a Comment
Read more

George Gallacher

A s the Store Keys packed our As the Store Keys packed our gear away after our first and, so sadly, last recording session with George, we looked at each other across the studio floor, in a proper case of “I know what you’re thinking.” Perhaps it was Stevie who blurted it out: “Can you believe that? Can you believe what just took place?” We were delighted just to be in a room with George. Honoured to have supported the Poets at Stereo for the Eyes Wide Open Club last December and somewhat bewildered that George and Fraser Watson had taken time to tell us they dug our sound. The Stereo show started with George on stage, clad commandingly in black as Poets and Thanes assembled for him, bottle of water in his hand. Eager to get on with it but calm in the eye of the storm. Fresh from a session on Radio Scotland that showcased a voice, astoundingly young. The show was spine-tingling. Somehow now we were cutting a single with the great man. To have him singing with us in the studio made ever...
2 comments
Read more