After a few shambolic attempts at recording a song with the vocals – and due consideration of a colleague’s best attempts at constructive criticism (“Don’t give up your day job”) – I decided I’d play around with a little bit of vocal-free guitar. And Raindrops in May is the result… 3 Simple playthroughs, overlaid and marginally time-shifted. The absence of further editing is pretty evident I’m sure you’ll agree. But you know what, who really cares…?

Anyways, I hope you like it.

(http://www.jameses.org/mp3/raindrops_in_may.mp3)

But he has sat there on top for a number of years now and I’m continually amazed by his words and thoughts and their interplay with some of the most majestic guitar picking my ears have beheld. Later compositions, ‘riddled’ with synthetic drum beats, electronic organ and Kenny G-esque saxophone have taken a while to grow on me, but grown on me they have – simply the evolution of music through the hazardous waters of the 1980s and early 90s.

By all accounts, John Martyn lived, played and drank hard and it was this hard living life that no doubt shortened his illustrious life and career. His last few years were troubled by illness, one such bout necessitating a double amputation at the knees. His understated (in my eyes) talent is illustrated by this relatively brief wikipedia entry.

Martyn passed away on the 29th of January this year, right about the time Storm and I had passed the worst of the Nullarbor, and I only found out this morning whilst doing a trawl for some notation of ‘May you Never’. I’d dreamed a few weeks ago that I’d seen him in concert and that he was shortly to die. I remember feeling immensely sad as I awoke from that dream, regretting that I’d never had the pleasure to see him play in the flesh (particularly during his 1970s heyday). It is a sadness that I feel acutely today; ‘A little strange’ given that our assocation lives purely within the musician/listener interface. Still you can’t help how you feel and I am truly saddened…

So, for those who haven’t had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with John Martyn’s music, I present to you my all time (thus far) playlist of his tracks. If you’re rich or iTunes inclined, you could do worse than download some of these tracks… The difficulty will be in shortening it by some measure… Many of these songs have a number of versions – studio and live – and I have selected those which I think are best.

1) Couldn’t Love you More – One World (1977) CD2, Track 2 (There are a number of versions but the one from the ‘One World’ Album is my favourite and possibly the most beautiful song ever…)
2) May You Never – Solid Air (1972-3) Track 7

Ok, they’re probably my two all-time favs. The next are chronologically listed (1 per album) to give an idea of change in times and style

* Sandy Grey – London Conversation (1967) Track 2
* Sing a song of Summer – The Tumbler (1968) Track 1
* Woodstock (Track 5) and Traffic Light Lady (Track 8 ) – Stormbringer (1969-70)
* Head and Heart – Bless the Weather (1971) Track 6 – A number of other excellent songs on this album.
* Over the Hill (Track 2) and Go Down Easy (Track 5) – Solid Air (1972-3)
* Ain’t no Saint – Inside Out (1973) Track 3
* My Baby Girl – Sunday’s Child (1974-5) Track 4
* One Day without You – Sweet Certain Surprise (1977-81) Track 12
* Hurt in You Heart – Grace and Danger (1980) Track 6
* Never let me go – Live in Bristol (1983) Track 9
* Don’t want to Know – Philenthropy (1983) Track 2 – covered by Beth Orton on her first album
* Spencer the Rover – BBC in Concert 1986 (rel 1992) Track 2 (Folk song cover)
* Fisherman’s Dream – Live at the Shaw Theatre 1990 (rel 1995) CD1 Track 9
* Bless the Weather – No Little Boy (1993) Track 12
* A Little Strange – And (1996) Track 5

* The Cure – Accoustic – I’m not sure which album but you can get it on the DL by right clicking the link

I’d be more than happy to make a compilation for anyone who’s interested…

RIP John and I hope you enjoy some of his amazing music…

A couple of weeks later and it struck me that someone would have captured it on a phone camera. So here it is in all of its laughable glory.

Lyrics

I’s walking down the street when I saw her pretty face.
I’s thinking to myself man I bet she’s worth the chase.
Around the corner then I realized she was gone.
I shrugged and stood a while, grabbed my heart and kicked it on.

I say, mmm mmm, best things in life are free.
Mmm mmm just got to find the one for me.

I’s playing volleyball when I dived across the sand.
And though the point was lost, I heard her clapping hands.
I thought her admiration, would one day lead to fornication, but
Despite my remonstrations, she grabbed her ball and went on home.

Saying, Mmm mmm, best things in life are free.
She says, mmm mmm, but you’ll get none of that from me.

So after years of searching, I finally found my girl.
And ‘spite that old cliche, well, I think she is my world.
After a few missed chances, awkward moments and seductive glances,
Endpoint was true romance, and we’re still dancing now.

Singing, mmm mmm, best things in life are free.
Mmm mmm and I have found the one for me (x2)

Hope you like it I just hope Joe Satriani hasn’t written a riff like this!

Fast forward a week and with the same amount of interest as third grader’s Dollarmite account, I decided I would wander back in solo and enjoy the free musical offerings once more (one friend did appear for part and was pleasantly surprised). The main room of the Joynt hotel, which was in size little larger than an average living room, was completely packed on this second occasion as Timothy Carroll‘s September residency was to draw to a close. It seemed that everybody in attendance was familiar to everyone else in some capacity or other, with friends, acquaintances, workmates (a number of those present, including musicians and sound tech, are in the employ of the Troubadour) and hangers on crowding the room in the most civilized of ways. Indeed, a glance from one of the musicians in my direction appeared to reflect a mental parsing of degrees of separation in an attempt to figure out where I fit into the picture, unaware that a stranger had wandered into this room full of friends.

Tim’s warm up act for the evening was Cameron Elliot, another local musician who I’d had the pleasure of hearing around 2 years ago at a Nick Drake tribute night at the Troubs. Storm and I had seen him at his own gig shortly after and purchased his EP, which to this day gets quite a few plays around washing up and Sunday quiz time. Cameron had been out of the circuit for a while and while it showed a little in terms of his crispness of plucking and memory of lyrics it was a veritable pleasure to see him perform once more. As a cursory listen to his tracks on the web will attest to, his voice is mellow, deep and surprisingly agile, an enviable piece of property in a musician’s universe.

Timothy Carroll was next, playing a similar set to the one I’d been privvy to the week before. The songs ‘Something Else’ and ‘What she gave away’ were personal favourites and the etchings he’d created with voice and guitar were given wonderful colour and hue through the addition of cello, clarinet and female harmony. Tom Cooney‘s cameo appearance was a brief yet enticing entree to his newly recorded (and independently released) material before Ben Salter of Gin Club fame rounded out the evening with his powerful vocals, characteristically not-quite-in-tune guitar, and advertised (but thankfully not evidenced) weak bladder. It struck me that Ben was the epitome of a musician for whom precision and perfection is an unnecessary pursuit/distraction when an emotive, charismatic and charged performance can leave the audience with just as much.

So as I sat in this room, amongst a plethora of chatty friends of friends, downing cheap bottles of beer, in ear- and eye-shot of two potential lovers in that stage of feeling out affections and consequences, I was heartened to think that the Brisbane folk scene is so strong. That talented young men and women can get up and play and sing much as they sound recorded, with few of the hum drum, whizzbang production effects that now comprise the norm. That if Banjo Patterson were in attendance, it’s not a stretch to believe that he would appreciate their poetry (and company) and perhaps wish that he too could stitch lyric to melody in such ways. And that despite the lack of commercial backing for a folk scene such as Brisbane’s, musicians such as Timothy Carroll, Cam Elliott, Tom Cooney, Ben Salter, Luke Foran, Loren, Jackie Marshall, Jacob S Harris and countless others continue to pursue it with fervor, passion and the loving support of a room full of friends.

I guess the problem is standing out from the crowd. With a larger potential audience comes greater competition and a walk down the virtual shopping aisles of Youtube would have you quickly surmise that there are shedloads of very talented people with access to (at least) a video camera and a head of smarts. But, there is always room for those who have the motivation and originality to be a ‘first’, and those who spend some time surfing the net know that certain blogs, discussion websites and, increasingly, mainstream media (through their blogs/offbeat columns/video sections) lap it up. A notable mention on a superblog such as Boingboing has the potential to slam web servers as the many thousands of devoted BB readers click on through (e.g.).

This post is leading somewhere, and that somewhere is the clever choice of an hitherto unsigned Manchester band to record a film clip for their latest offering in front of mutliple CC-TV cameras and then request the footage back through Data Protection legislation for mashing together. Although it is passed off as a way to produce a cheap film clip (“we didn’t have money for a film crew”) it is much more likely an attempt at something sufficiently original and creative to get the web buzzing. And it did just that… The Telegraph and BB picked it up and I’m sure countless other second- and third- tier blogs (such as this) will do the same. And so the opportunity to become the next OK GO has presented itself… Whether the Manchester band is canny enough to capitalise on its initial fame is hard to see; however, it has definitely given itself a fighting chance with its initial offering…

And when all’s said and done, it is a nicely made film clip (I did notice their use of a free moving camera – complete with CC-TV like lines and resolution) and the song is nice and catchy. So in praise of their efforts in embracing the ‘new’ advertising medi-um/a here’s the link

(And p.s. – cheers to those who’ve taken up the offer of email subscription; don’t worry mum… I’m on my lunch break!)

Let me know if you want to download his tracks as I have a cunning plan m’lord.

And then there’s this!

I have to say that getting the coordination back after some 18 years of inaction is somewhat challenging; however, it has been great fun attacking music with a revived sense of determination and enthusiasm. The piano itself is run of the mill digital – $699 Casio CDP-100, but with hammer action and speakers it more than suffices for the time being.

The other great thing is that I now have the pleasure of trying to transpose my guitar compositions and songs to the piano and (later) vice versa. Storm bought me a great little book full of jazz chords in all keys and it’s been amazingly useful in teaching me fingering for Majors, Minors and 7s for all the chords that I currently need. Although I have a lazy bass hand, I have still been able to muck around in G, C and D enough to beat out a few compositions – my first! yay! My first piece ever on the piano was the aptly named ‘Frog goes Plop’… And now that I have enough chords under my belt to have de-mystified the piano to some degree, I really do look forward to learning some pieces – Satie’s 3rd Gymnopedie and ‘Buy Now Pay Later’ among them.

Excited!

So when I sat down for the first time in 3 years to try and scribe the names of all my songs it was partly to be proud of what I’d achieved in a not-too-long-a-period of time but also to actually determine the number of pieces I’d written. The list grew quickly at first and then in fits and starts as songs would reappear in my consciousness. A number of these songs still don’t have names and only a few have been recorded to a standard even approaching sub-par for placement on this website and elsewhere.

Nonetheless, an additional day of ruminating and sifting backstores of metaphysical record crates in the mind saw the list splutter past thirty. At present my catalogue sits at 37 songs with lyrics (two of these don’t have musical accompaniment yet) and then about another 13 or so instrumental pieces. Not bad for a two-bit hack with a bit of spare time and a musical inclination.

So my aim for 2008 is to get a ‘decent’ draft of every one of these songs up on this site. That way, if someone hears a piece that they think is worthy of a bit more time and effort, I can maybe get a song or two that is worth sitting back and listening to on a sunday arvo. Failing that, there’ll be a soundtrack for my mum and dad as they slip into senility and beyond

In other news, I have learnt enough piano to compose my first pieces – “Frog goes Plop” and “Raindrops on a Campfire”… do not be deceived by the titles, they are masterpieces

Beatboxing Flautist