Wednesday 18 September 2024

Robyn Hitchcock in Brighton, 11.09


One of the sights from this show I will not forget is an expression of utter bewilderment on the face of a young girl sitting at one of the front tables. At that point, Robyn Hitchcock was playing "My Wife and My Dead Wife", an oddly irresistible story of a man who lives in the company of two wives, one dead and one alive. 

My wife lies down on the beach, she's sucking a peach 
She's out of reach
Of the waves that crash on the sand where my dead wife stands 
Holding my hand

Those lyrics are as clever and disturbing as they were 40 years ago, and it must have been a treat to hear them for the first time. But then again, it was a real treat for me, too, and I have heard them a hundred times. Robyn Hitchcock does not play it every night (his setlists are remarkably diverse), but the 1985 song remains an enduring classic in a vast catalogue of amazing consistency and whimsical brilliance. 

Along with Robert Forster, Luke Haines and a few others, Robyn Hitchcock is one of my all-time favourite songwriters. The first time I heard his song (I believe it was "Executioner" from Eye), I genuinely could not believe I had never heard this music before. It was confident, charismatic, idiosyncratic and oddly appealing. I have since heard everything else in his discography, and this feeling has only become stronger: how could this be so obscure? After all, The Soft Boys' Underwater Moonlight is one of the greatest albums of all time, and so are Fegmania!, Eye and I Often Dream Of Trains. The answer, inevitably, is what Stephen Pastel once said: "In the end, you become as big as you are meant to be". Or, alternatively, Robyn Hitchcock has never truly desired fame.

In Brighton, at the Komedia club, he does a long set divided into two parts. We start with the wistful "September Cones" (originally on You & Oblivion, a great compilation of demos and outtakes) and end with a brief encore featuring "See Emily Play" and "Waterloo Sunset" (both taken from his new album of 1967 classics that once inspired him). In between, it is what you have come to expect: sex, cheese, insects and death (well, he scales back on sex a little). Plus, the man is genuinely, effortlessly funny with his onstage ramblings and droll English humour. The best joke of the night was perhaps to do with two ways of looking at things. There are two groups of people in the world, optimists and pessimists. Some think The Beatles are half-alive and some that they are half-dead. 

Again, with a catalogue so big, there were bound to be some omissions (I would have wanted "My Favourite Buildings" and "The Man Who Invented Himself"), but you can't fault his choices, either. He did The Soft Boys stuff ("Queen of Eyes", "Tonight"), he did the Egyptians stuff ("My Wife and My Dead Wife", "Madonna of the Wasps"), he did things classic ("Queen Elvis", "Cynthia Mask") and new ("Raymond and the Wires", "The Shuffle Man"). For me, one of the highlights was "Autumn Sunglasses" (from the eponymous 2017 album) whose melodicism came through in style in the intimate live setting. He was eccentric and charming without trying too hard. And he was humble, too, and introduced Syd Barrett's "See Emily Play" as a song written by 'the original Robyn Hitchcock'. 

Interestingly, there were two glasses of water on the small table beside him, and, inevitably, the amount of water was decreasing all the time. I knew he timed it, in the sense that he would finish it off before or after his last song. And yet there was a part of me that hoped against hope that the water would never disappear and he would be playing there for us until the end of times. It would have been amazing, too, and with songs so timeless, such a Robyn Hitchcock thing to do. 




Friday 6 September 2024

Oasis: worst to best


This post will be my personal contribution to the Oasis reunion. I have decided to relisten to all of their albums to see if my old opinions still stand (spoiler alert: they mostly do). This will be a list in ascending order, from worst to best. 

Also, just to make sure: in the Blur vs. Oasis debate, the correct answer has always been Pulp.



8. Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants (2000)


You know what? This album is not even bad. It is too safe to be bad. Noel Gallagher has always been a somewhat limited songwriter, which means he could never really move beyond the waning lights of Britpop. You may call this post-Britpop (true for the Gallaghers' music after the split), but what it is, essentially, is Oasis going through the motions in a very smooth and boring way. Not exactly terrible (although the title of the album as well as the cover certainly are terrible), just mediocre. 

Best song: "Go Let It Out" (which is not very good either)


7. Heathen Chemistry (2002)


I think Pitchfork gave this album a 1.4 or something. That said, a couple of years earlier they had published that review of Kid A, so who cares anyway? I am not here to defend Heathen Chemistry (it is Oasis by the numbers), but there is more life in it than in the previous album. Songs? Well, I find "Little By Little" to be awfully formulaic, but the sweeping "Stop Crying Your Heart Out" and Liam's tender "Songbird" are both excellent.

Best song: "Songbird"


6. Don't Believe The Truth (2005)


Interestingly, only five out of these eleven songs were written by Noel. He certainly came up with the best ones ("Mucky Fingers", which sounds like "I'm Waiting For The Man" by The Velvet Underground; "Lyla", which sounds like "Street Fighting Man" by The Rolling Stones; "The Importance Of Being Idle", which sounds like "Sunny Afternoon" by The Kinks; "Part Of The Queue", which sounds like "Golden Brown" by The Stranglers; and "Let There Be Love", which is a grand old John Lennon ballad cloaked in "Retrovertigo" by Mr Bungle), but the contributions from the other band members do bring a little variety, and some breathing space. Overall the band sounds fresh and engaged. Don't Believe The Truth is an awfully derivative album, but a very enjoyable one, too.

Best song: "The Importance Of Being Idle"


5. Be Here Now (1997)


I need to get this off my chest: saying those first two albums are all-time classics and Be Here Now is dog's dinner makes little sense to me. Yes, so this album is dog's dinner and, in fact, it should be the dictionary definition of a 'fucking mess'. Yes, the production was probably overseen by a drug dealer. Yes, each song goes on for a million years. But - and I will die on this hill - in terms of actual songwriting, there is no seismic dip in quality. It is just that it was all amplified, blown up, pushed to the limit. Essentially, though, "Don't Go Away" is hardly all that much worse than "Wonderwall", and "All Around The World" is not far behind "Champagne Supernova".

Best song: "Don't Go Away"


4. Dig Out Your Soul (2008)


I remember how I was in England in 2008 and Dig Out Your Soul was released. There was an Alan McGee article about the album in which he compared it to Beggars Banquet. "Oh for fuck's sake", I thought, and forgot all about it. When I finally did hear Dig Out Your Soul, a couple of years later, I was surprised by how much I actually enjoyed this album. "Bag It Up" was a brilliant opener. "I'm Outta Time" and "Falling Down" were both classic singles. "(Get Off Your) High Horse Lady" was jangly and murky, and Noel's successful attempt at being adventurous. Yes, so the album is let down towards the end by democracy, with Gem Archer and Andy Bell both contributing very unremarkable rockers. Still, Liam's "Soldier On" is a good closer, and that initial seven-song run simply cannot be denied.  

Best song: "(Get Off Your) High Horse Lady"


3. Definitely Maybe (1994)


"Rock 'n' Roll Star" is not a very good song but it is a terrific opener. Which is what you need to know about this album: it is all swagger, no subtlety. The production is a mess, the arrangements lack any sort of nuance - but all the same; there was something about them right from the start: the relentlessness, the oomph. Noel's songwriting was not especially plodding at the time (as a matter of fact, "Shakermaker" is the only song with no saving graces). The classics were, of course, "Live Forever", "Supersonic" and "Slide Away", but the dirty groove of "Columbia"? The middle-eight of "Up In The Sky"? The surprising understatement of "Married With Children"? Good stuff. Not as good as Noel and Liam think, but I still enjoy it after all these years. 

Best song:  "Slide Away"


2. (What's The Story) Morning Glory (1995)


I have always hated that album title. Why so long? Why the parentheses? Why the corny rhyme? That said, the songs are mostly good. Morning Glory is catchy, glorious onslaught of Cheap Trick and nods to The Beatles so low Noel is basically touching the ground with his forehead. Not everything is equally great, and after all these years I'm still not convinced by "Roll With It" or the title song (despite some mild creativity in the arrangement). All the same; criticising "Wonderwall" at this point seems to me as pointless as criticising "Yesterday" or "Hotel California". Most importantly, though, that song number four is such a timeless classic that it lifts this album above the debut all by itself.  

Best song: well, what do you think?


1. The Masterplan (1998)


There has to be something seriously wrong with a band when a collection of B-sides is this much better than regular studio albums. The Masterplan is, of course, a compilation but I'm willing to make it my number one just to underscore the inadequacy of their artistic choices. It is no masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination, but throw away the pointless instrumental "The Swamp Song" and the equally pointless Beatles cover, and you get a near-perfect collection of 90s Britpop. "Underneath The Sky"? "Talk Tonight"? "Rockin' Chair"? "Half The World Away"? "The Masterplan"? I get excited by simply typing those titles.

Best song: "Rockin' Chair"