Tuesday 9th March
Last night, thanks to an alert publicist, I narrowly avoided wasting an entire evening. I’d agreed to head over to South Of The Border in Old Street to check out The Smoking Hearts, whose debut album ‘Pride Of Nowhere’ kicks ass in a major punkoid-metallic stylée. Those plans would have been left in tatters when the neighborhood in which the venue is located was struck by a sudden long-term power failure. Fortuitously, James Sherry of Division Media called just as I was preparing to leave. Oh well, deffo next time…
During the daytime I did an enjoyable phone interview with Chris Babbitt of Taking Dawn, the fast-rising US band that support Airbourne on their upcoming UK dates. Babbitt’s name really should be ‘Rabbit’… The guitarist/frontman is being talked of as an heir to Sebastian Bach’s motormouth messiah throne. Well, he’s certainly got the gift of the gab. And quantity aside, much of what he spews forth is eminently quotable. Thankfully, ‘Time To Burn’, the Las Vegas quartet’s debut album, merits the vast quantities of hype that Roadrunner seem to be drumming up. I’ve just awarded it [9/10] in the upcoming issue of Metal Hammer.
Still on the subject of Roadrunner’s artistes, it’s disappointing to learn that DragonForce have with split with ZP Theart, one of the finest singers of the power-metal genre, due to “insurmountable differences of musical opinion”. Make no mistake, those are major shoes to fill.
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Monday 8th March
There’s some fine reading matter in the new issue of Metal Hammer, dated April (with Slash and M Shadows of Avenged Sevenfold on the cover). Dayal Patterson’s interview with Varg Vikarnes (AKA Burzum’s Count Grishnackh), is captivating in a train-crash kinda way. Vikarnes shows not a slither of remorse whatsoever for the past crimes, including murder and church-burning, that resulted in a 16-year jail term. Elsewhere in a section called Spanish Inquisition the magazine’s readers fire their merciless, no-holds-barred questions at Lamb Of God’s Randy Blythe, John Campbell and Chris Adler. Here’s a sample: ‘I’m learning to play the guitar, please may I borrow one of your Pantera songbooks?’ Someone else wanted to know: ‘Did your band come up with its name while yanking at each others’ mutton daggers in a frenzy of angry toilet love?’ Another asked: ‘How accurate was the movie Deliverance?’. Brilliant stuff! Fair play to the LOG guys who take the abuse in playful spirit, responding with their own jibes about this fair nation’s own weather, food and dentistry (“Get some braces, you English twats!”). Ya can’t beat a good argument, can ya?
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Sunday 7th March
Crystal Palace’s new management regime is up ‘n’ running after yesterday’s priceless home win over Sheffield United. Okay, the Blades were little more than a bunch dirty cloggers who failed dismally to register a serious attempt on target throughout the entire game, but three points are three points. Well done to Messrs Hart, Freedman and Pemberton for allowing the team to keep the ball on the deck. A very encouraging start indeed.
The victory set me up for what turned out to be a fantastic night’s rocking with Lynyrd Skynyrd, reaching Hammersmith just in time for Gun’s warm-up spot. Mixing up a healthy smattering of new material (‘Popkiller’, ‘Let Your Hair Down’ and ‘Seraphina’) with tunes from the past (‘Welcome To The Real World’, ‘Taking On The World’, ‘Better Days’ and ‘Steal Your Fire’, etc), it was refreshing to see them play to a decent-sized crowd and receive a noisy, enthusiastic response for their efforts.
Apart from the matter of its brevity, Skynyrd’s streamlined and super-confident headline performance roared: “This is how the masters do it”. The US band’s last British tour in May ’09 offered a treasure trove of all-time classics culled from the years 1973-1977. This time they added three songs from their excellent current studio disc, ‘God & Guns’. With guitarist Rickey Medlocke throwing rock star shapes a-plenty, Ronnie Van Zant’s younger brother Johnny sweet-talking the crowd and the aptly-named Peter Keys proving a capable replacement for the late, great Billy Powell, Skynyrd purred through an economical though never less than riveting 90-minute display that left the sold-out Apollo bellowing for more… which, of course, is the goal. Here’s the set-list: ‘Skynyrd Nation’, ‘What’s Your Name?’, ‘Gimme Back My Bullets’, ‘I Know A Little’, ‘That Smell’, ‘Simple Man’, Medley: ‘Whiskey Rock-‘-Roller’/‘Down South Jukin’’/‘The Needle & The Spoon’/‘Tuesday’s Gone’, ‘God & Guns’, ‘Still Unbroken’, ‘Gimme Three Steps’, Call me The Breeze’, ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ and a certain epic song about a free bird.
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Saturday 6th March
Tele-sales calls are among my pet annoyances. So when my office phone line rang at 10am on a Saturday, I prepared to despatch a volley of abuse to whomever had the audacity to interrupt my hard-earned leisure time. Imagine my surprise, then, when the caller turned out to be Dan Reed, wanting to know why I had not hung around to say ‘hi!’ after last night’s gig at Union Chapel. “Did you hate it?” he wondered. “Not at all,” was my reply, though I came clean with my view that the show’s billing as a ‘full electric band’ was a tad misleading. After finding his way back with so many one-man acoustic shows, I’d been hoping for a return to the ‘Funky Dan’ of his former band the Network. “Really?” responded Reed, sounding as though the notion had only just occurred to him. In fact, the 90-minute set had included only a handful of songs from the DRN era, including ‘Rainbow Child’, ‘I’m So Sorry’, ‘Cruise Together’, ‘Ritual’ and unaccompanied keyboard-vocal renditions of ‘Let It Go’ and ‘Stronger Than Steel’. Though his acoustic contributions were a cornerstone of the performance, I felt it wasteful to have a guitarist of Tommy Denander’s talent seated on a stool, playing second fiddle to Rob Daiker’s low-key electric solos.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big admirer of the new material that Reed has concocted since returning from the wilderness. ‘She’s Not You’, for instance, works on so many different levels. ‘Losing My Fear’, ‘Brave New World’ and ‘Promised Land’ are not far behind. And with his long-awaited studio album, ‘Coming Up For Air’, now lined up for release through Townsend Records on May 25, they are likely to take on an even greater resonance. The biggest difference between ‘now’ and ‘then’ is that Reed’s tunes lack any sort of vigour. Dan’s become a more spiritual person, which is to be admired. But I cannot be alone in missing the days when what went on below the waist – rhythmically and sexually – was more reflected in his oeuvre. Here’s the set-list: ‘Feels Like Home’, ‘Coming Up For Air’, ‘Losing My Fear’, ‘Rainbow Child’, ‘I’m So Sorry’, ‘Promised Land’, ‘Reach For The Sun’, ‘On Your Side’, ‘Closer’, ‘Candlelight’, ‘Cruise Together’, ‘Sacred Ground’, ‘Ritual’ and ‘Brave New World’, plus ‘Let it Go’, ‘Stronger Than Steel’ and ‘She’s Not You’.
Before heading to the Union Chapel I attended a playback of Masterplan’s new album. ‘Time To Be King’ is released via AFM Records on May 23 and heralds the return of Jorn Lande, one of the nest rock singers around. Lande is one of the few men capable of sounding like David Coverdale **and** Ronnie James Dio, and although Mike DiMeo did a good job of fronting Masterplan, on the evidence of what was played – some songs were missing their final lead guitar parts – they are all the better for having him back. Band-leader Roland Grapow was on hand to talk us through each track. I laughed when he revealed that ‘Blue Europa’, which name-checks Winston Churchill and the SS, is about (BOO! HISS!) the European Union… a subject that is, of course, **way** too big to be covered in just four minutes or so. Grapow knew it, too, smiling as he revealed: “I had to tell Jorn: ‘Please don’t mention Adolf’.”
P.S. The Playlist and YouTube sections have received their monthly updates.
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Friday 5th March
Cool! Iron Maiden have named their (ulp!) 15th studio album, which was produced by Kevin Shirley (Led Zeppelin/Aerosmith/Black Crowes) and will be released in the summer. It’s to be called ‘The Final Frontier’. Not a bad title for sure, but the ‘final’ part is a bit worrying.
I’ve been getting back into Reef. After transcribing my recent Classic Rock interview with their singer Gary Stringer, I dug out the West Country quarter’s debut album, 1995’s ‘Replenish’ – almost forgot what a fabulous, groovy and earthy band they were. I must go and see them at Shepherd’s Bush Empire, or better still at the ‘secret’ gig that Stringer refers to here.
Talking of which, I’ve received some e-abuse for electing to see John Waite over Kiss (see Wednesday’s diary). What the original post should probably have mentioned is that I’ve seen two previous intimate club shows from Kiss. I was there when the band opened the ‘new’ Marquee Club in August, 1988, as a warm-up for their appearance at Castle Donington. Then, four years later, during the promotion of the ‘Revenge’ album, I saw them at The Stone in San Francisco, where I filed this report. Given that Waite hadn’t played London (so far as I know) in almost a quarter-century, and that $immons and company play two nights at Wembley in two months’ time, it was a bit of a no-brainer. So don’t go calling me bonkers!
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Thursday 4th March
There are just 98 days till the World Cup begins. Frankly, on the evidence of last night’s game against Egypt, England don’t stand a snowball in hell’s chance of winning the tournament. Sure, the national side was missing several key players (including the disgraced Ashley Cole), but their first half performance was especially poor. Capello’s decision to change things around after Mohamed Zidan put the African champions ahead was vindicated, but the final score of 3-1 flattered the Thee Lions. Peter Crouch equalised with incredible style for a big fella but was blatantly offside for his second goal and England’s third. Whatever anyone says of Crouch, 20 strikes in 37 games – many of which were off the bench – is an impressive stat. Bring in James Milner for the overrated Lampard for me please, Fabio! Gerrard, too, is living on his reputation.
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Wednesday 3rd March
It’s hard to believe that my last sighting of John Waite was at the Marquee Club in Wardour Street wa-a-a-a-y back in 1986. So imagine my frustration when I realized that last night’s gig clashed with Kiss’ not-so-‘secret’ appearance at the Islington Academy. I had to return my guest ticket for the latter, but even though Waite played for just 90 minutes – less than charitable, given the size of his catalogue – I don’t regret doing so. As my friend John Dryland and I enjoyed a pre-gig cider or three, UFO’s Paul Raymond strolled into the World’s End, the boozer above the Underworld. Paul and his other half, Helen, were fine company and meeting them amplified the ‘refreshment’ factor.
The posters for Waite’s tour suggested he would revisit solo material and offerings from his days with The Babys and Bad English and, excepting a gratuitous cover of Dylan’s ‘All Along The Watchtower’ and a single-song encore of the Zeppelin standard ‘Rock And Roll’, that’s exactly what we got – a mouth-watering smorgasbord of all that’s best about Lancaster’s finest export. Although the Underworld was only two-thirds full, the crowd went absolutely wild, and one of my fondest memories of the night was turning around to survey the scene during ‘When I See You Smile’ and realising that a beaming John Mitchell of It Bites was just a few feet away to my left. We exchanged knowing grins and got on with mouthing the lyrics to the Bad English classic. Here’s the set-list: ‘Change’, ‘Back On My Feet’, ‘Encircled’, ‘When I See You Smile’, ‘In Dreams’, ‘How Did I Get By Without You’, ‘All Along The Watchtower’, ‘Mr Wonderful’, ‘Everytime I Think Of You’, ‘Suicide Life’, Guitar Solo, ‘Best Of What I Got’, ‘New York City Girl’, ‘Missing You’, ‘Midnight Rendezvous’, ‘Head First’ and ‘Rock And Roll’.
And so… the SE25 pantomime continues... Paul Hart has been appointed Crystal Palace’s new boss till the end of the season, with CPFC Legend Dougie Freedman returning to the club as his right-hand man and Cup Finalist John ‘Pembo’ Pemberton taking charge of first-team coaching duties. It could have been far, far worse. As I got in from the Underworld, administrator Brendan Guilfoyle was on Sky Sports News claiming: “[Neil Warnock] told me didn’t have the stomach for the fight; if he wasn’t committed I needed to let him go.” If that’s true, it’s funny/tragic that Warnock has the “stomach” to take on the running of a club that’s just one position above Palace in the table. A huge pile of cash versus principles and loyalty? No contest, it seems. For me, NW has gone from hero to zero in 24 hours.
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Tuesday 2nd March
Thankfully, today is crammed with work – all enjoyable, and enough to take my mind off the depressing situation at Selhurst Park. I’ve got a phone interview with Rudolf Schenker of the Scorps after lunch, before heading off for a face-to-face chat with Judas Priest’s Rob Halford and Glenn Tipton. The only bad news is that said arrangement excludes me from attending a launch reception for the ‘new’ Jimi Hendrix studio album, ‘Valleys Of Neptune’. I’ll then head over to the Underworld to see a gig by John Waite… see what I mean about a hectic schedule??!!
[Edit: Despite coverage on BBC’s Breakfast News and right across the media, the official CPFC website now says that QPR’s statement is “somewhat premature”, and that discussions regarding Warnock’s release remain “ongoing”. What an absolute farce.]
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Monday 1st March
It’s 10pm and my evening has burst into flames. After conducting a great interview with former Survivor man Jim Peterik, I’d settled down to watch some telly. The first text came from my CPFC buddy Neil Pudney. Neil Warnock’s ‘transfer’ to QP-Hahaha was official. Oh, bollocks. It was inevitable, but the reported compensation package of £1.5 million that had been so vital to keeping Crystal palace running till the end of the season had dwindled to a paltry £400,000. Worse still we have no idea who will be in charge against Sheffield United on Saturday, or for the rest of the campaign – should the club last that long (and with the taxman appearing to play hardball with Portsmouth, being wound up looks like a distinct possibility). All the usual names are being linked with the vacancy (listed in my own order of preference)… Sir Steve Coppell, Gareth Southgate, Alan Smith – also such non-CPFC names as Gary Megson and Paul Hart. The most unbelievable one is… Iain Dowie. Holy. Fucking. Shit. The man that lied to us and then walked out to join the Clowns. Had it happened in an episode of Dream Team, you’d have said it was too far-fetched for words.