Album of the Month: FROM THE TREES by Peter Hammill

Back when progressive rock seemed like something John Lydon could not grasp on a purely intellectual level, I bought H To He Who Am The Only One. It did not quite soundtrack my teenage years the way (say!) Aqualung did, but "House With No Door" was a piece of chilling ecstasy I played ad nauseam. Nothing else on Van Der Graaf Generator's most famed record matched those piano chords and those flutes, but "House With No Door" was such a top prize. 

Eventually, some long-haired guy borrowed the album and never gave it back (possibly thinking that Uriah Heep's compilation he brought me was a worthy substitute - although in its defence, it did keep my kitchen table in balance), and I lost track of Peter Hammill's music until someone, somewhere suggested Nadir's Big Chance.

It would be hard now to describe the shock to the senses that Nadir's Big Chance once was for me, but that fucking album was unique in a most extreme way. It was not the vibe or the voice - it was the way he constructed the songs with melodies that were supposed to be melodies but barely registered as such. Which was Peter Hammill's very special way. It was punk before John Lydon started wearing controversial T-shirts.

From then on, it's been a rough and wild ride that has produced enough subversive classics to keep me looking for more (The Future Now and the more recent Consequences are personal favourites). But From The Trees, released earlier this month, had the kind of urgent intimacy I could hardly expect.

The record is mostly piano and acoustic guitar filtered through Hammill's complex, deeply uncomfortable songwriting. Face it, the moment you hear the irresistible backing vocals in "Torpor" (strangely, they remind me of "Goodbye Blue Sky") you think this is from a wrong album. After all, Rikki Nadir was never supposed to be accessible. And it's not that he is, or tries to be, but the tune in "Charm Alone" is easy to grasp, the piano in "The Descent" is heartbreaking by any standard, etc. And none of it, mind you, distracts from Hammill's trademark style and charisma.  

From The Trees may not be the most appropriate record for New Year's eve, but it clearly is the best album I've heard all month. From The Trees seems like Peter Hammill's most intimate record in years, maybe ever. And, in "Torpor", it has the sort of universally sad melody that hits me as hard as "House With No Door" once did. And that takes some doing.

Christmas Speech

Originally, I was planning to post Bing Crosby singing the immortal "Adeste Fideles", but then Morrissey's Christmas speech came along, and how could I resist?..

This is perfect on so many levels. I swear I burst out laughing three times at the very least, and I'm not even sure it was meant to be so. The flu part at the beginning. The well-judged swipes. The black and white poster in the background. The book placed to his left. Hilarious. Irreproachable, too.

And, to reiterate, Low In High School really was the best album of 2017. Merry Christmas!

Black Mirror

The prime minister had a choice. The guy in "The Waldo Moment" had done his share. Surely you can't sympathise with the "Nosedive" girl. For all the mindless hate in "White Bear", the woman was guilty. In "Shut Up and Dance", your heart stops bleeding for the boy the moment the final twist comes.  

Interestingly, the only innocent soul whose punishment is totally uncalled for is the girl from "Fifteen Million Merits" as the choice she makes is not really a choice. And it leads to an ironic observation regarding this never-ending technological freak show. The universe it has spawned is a universe of corrupted victims.


*Mind, please, that this was written before the "Crocodile" episode. 

Drinking Guide to London Parks

London parks are not there for your entertainment. London parks are to be obsessed with. In fact, I pity the poor tourist who walks past the Ecclestone Square Park to gawp at the honestly fucking useless figures of Madam Tussauds, and I look with utter disbelief at that poor soul which has never made an exhausting but ultimately fulfilling trip to the Kew Gardens (having, quite possibly, never heard of them). 

Which is to say, the old adage sticks. If you are tired of London parks, you are tired of life.

They are not straightforward. In fact, there are levels to London parks. There are those which are for lying down and there are those which are for silent walks among the roses and the cheeky squirrels hunting for blood. There are those which are for music in your headphones (I once had a beautiful night out in St. James Park listening to The Ape Of Naples) and those which are for melodramatic conversations with those who you love or else loved or else will love. And then there are those which are to be enjoyed with a glass of absinthe. 

In fact, all of them. It's worth remembering that obsessions do not go easy on you, and hence this drinking guide to London parks. Not all of them, Jesus forbid, these are just a few examples. But never forget: there are no parks in London you should have the effrontery to skip.


Level One. Soho Square.

The grass in Soho Square is so dark green it's almost brown. Which could well be for the simple reason that I only saw it in the evening. Soho Square is the ultimate hedonistic paradise, compact-style, filthy and brilliant. It's there to lie down and soak in the million words yelled and whispered around you. It's actually inspiring, given the right season (April to October) and the right moment (6pm onwards). The right alcohol would be the basic delights of ginger beer like Crabbies.

Level Two. Hyde Park (Diana's Fountain corner).

Hyde Park is overcrowded and, more often than not, quite intimidating. Tread carefully through the dead bodies, empty bottles and depressing Pakistani gentlemen trying to sell you an iPhone adapter, and you might be rewarded with something like Diana's Fountain. This is still precarious, I'll grant you that, as you could stumble upon a perfect British family playing football under the tree you've long picked for yourself. However, when it's calm and the good people are at work, the sun is clean, the air is transparent, the kids are dipping their feet in the water, and this calls for a long, slow glass of champagne. 

Level Three. Warwick Square.

Overgrown, leafy, with a half-closed gate that might only seem inviting to an old man walking his two giant dogs. Yet walk in, and this could be as special as only an old park can be. London is filled with these. Any conversation here becomes memorable, any face unforgettable. You will come up with your best line, you will write your best short story here. A Warwick Square is natural and dense and powerful and I just wouldn't mind having a small bottle of Scottish whisky in the long pocket of my coat. 

Level Four. St. James Park. 

St. James Park can occasionally come off as a posher take on Hyde Park, but that's if your imagination allows you to queue to the London Eye for a day or two. The grass in St. James Park is slightly less pale, and the air is way healthier as you can probably gather from the multitudes of joggers (although David Lodge said it best: "Running is a sport, jogging is punishment"). St. James Park is mainstream art done well, with guts and imagination, even if its no-nonsense location is closer to the earthy taste of red wine. 

Level Five. Kew Gardens.

Instagram people won't believe me when I say that life is nothing but a mixture of memories and experiences. It is. One such experience was me walking through the Kew Gardens (where at some point I found myself running after a peacock trying to pull out one of his feathers) on a Wednesday morning and seeing a huge white table laid for some sort of grand dinner celebration. The plates were there, as were the spoons and the forks and the glasses. This was such a perfect scene. One thing missing was 12 e Mezzo /Malvasia del Salento. White wine.  

Level Six. Regent's Park.

In late pre-autumn, on a warm day when the air is so crisp you can almost faint from happiness, Regent's Park is my idea of Heaven. You know how occasionally you have one too many cocktails, and you go and lie down, and suddenly you feel like your head comes crashing down, floating through some goddamn tunnel, and there's a sense that if you succumb to this great fall, you will never wake up from this and you will land deeper than the chasm where Gandalf took on Barlog. Regent's Park is exactly that when you lie down on its grass, with the single exception that it's the fall you are willing to accept. Preferred alcohol is the cocktail of your choice. 

Noel vs. Liam

Since I love writing about the Gallagher brothers, and since they keep pushing this rivalry as if anyone cares, and since they've just released their albums in disgusting succession, I'm genuinely interested to see who wins this one out. 

The referee blows the whistle, reluctantly. Game on.


1. "Fort Knox" vs. "Wall Of Glass"

Noel is trying something different here, Liam is going through the motions. Both moderately convincing. A tie. 

Noel 1 Liam 1

2. "Holy Mountain" vs. "Bold"

"Holy Mountain" is annoying but seriously catchy. "Bold" is an acoustic guitar based song that Liam's laptop could write in a minute. 

Noel 2 Liam 1

3. "Keep On Reaching" vs. "Greedy Soul"

"Keep On Reaching" is hilariously overproduced like everything else on the album, but still good. Liam rhymes 'six' with 'crucifix'. 

Noel 3 Liam 1

4. "It's A Beautiful World" vs. "Paper Crown"

Noel's song is vapid and soulless. Liam's song could be a Lennon d-side. 

Noel 3 Liam 2

5. "She Taught Me How To Fly" vs. "For What It's Worth"

Again, I applaud Noel for his attempt to be adventurous, and his song is okay, but denying "For What It's Worth" here would be like denying the entire existence of Oasis. I'm not going that far. 

Noel 3 Liam 3

6. "Be Careful What You Wish For" vs. "When I'm In Need"

Noel is intriguing here, Liam is painfully derivative. 

Noel 4 Liam 3

7. "Black & White Sunshine" vs. "You Better Run"

Both rotten, Liam's slightly less so.

Noel 4 Liam 4

8. "Interlude (Wednesday Part 1)" vs. "I Get By"

That's a lovely interlude actually, but not enough to score. "I Get By" is rubbish. 'Only love can break my heart...' Seriously, Liam?

Noel 4 Liam 4

9. "If Love Is The Law" vs. "Chinatown"

"Chinatown" is half-decent, "If Love Is The Law" is not.

Noel 4 Liam 5

10. "The Man Who Built The Moon" vs. "Come Back To Me"

Whenever I listen to Noel, I get the feeling that there's a good songwriter there trying to break through every rock cliche known to humanity. He pulls it off here, barely. "Come Back To Me" is not a good song.

Noel 5 Liam 5

11. "End Credits (Wednesday Part 2)" vs. "Universal Gleam"

No points.

Noel 5 Liam 5

12. "Dead In The Water" (bonus) vs. "All I've Need"

It's a brittle acoustic piece from Noel, and it's no great shakes, but Liam has literally nothing to say here.

Noel 6 Liam 5


Noel edges it. Having said that, Who Built The Moon?* is one of the worst album titles ever, so perhaps I should have disqualified it from the start and not wasted sixty-five minutes of my life listening to these two hopelessly mediocre albums.  

*It's been pointed out to me that Noel's album is, in fact, called not Who Invented The Moon? but Who Built The Moon? Which, I'm sorry to say, does not change anything. Still woeful. The album name has now been fixed, finally.

travelling notes (xliv)

In a Portuguese city, I once saw a black black guy who was selling umbrellas just as the sun was about to come out. The rain was relentless, and people kept looking up at the sky, then at the black guy, then up again, trying to figure out who was cheating them.