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Keep your eyes on the road, your hands upon the wheel…..

As the lights went up, at the end of the night, none of the hippies, bikers and punters in the Topanga Corral – a place where Charlie Manson &The Milky Way would often hang out and perform, the very place that Jim Morrison is rumoured to have written ‘Roadhouse Blues’ about -and none of the bar staff, while draining their beers and comparing the cut of their (Sears) ponchos probably noticed Doug Moon packing up his guitar, following another fiery Beefheart performance.

They couldn’t have known that half a century later,on this very day, that this moment would be being written about – on a platform called ‘the internet’ – noting and recording it as Moon’s last MB hurrah (apart from his TMR cameo)
The Magic Band’s very next performance, 11th June ’67, would coincidentally be Ry Cooder’s one and only time treading the boards with the group.
This was The Fantasy Fair & Magic Mountain Festival.
Don, ever ahead of his time, invented the art of stage diving, that day and Ry, of course, walked. The rest as they say is history. Whatever happened to Ry? Nothing much!
http://www.folkradio.co.uk/…/ry-cooder-lifetime-achievemen…/
Doug? Here he is here, playing a blinder!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F45UnrxTCUc

My thanks to both of them, for making the music world a far more pleasant place to wander around in.

The Necks, 12th April 2015

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How to begin to describe The Necks ? Hmm, Piano, Bass and Drums/Percussion. They came out and improvised for an hour. The drummer playing a tattoo on the rim of the snare for something approaching ten minutes while his colleagues meditated at their instruments in silence. One of these things, similar to Terry Riley’s ‘In C’ where you, very quickly, have absolutely no idea how long you’ve been listening to something. Playing in almost darkness, it allowed the listener to focus upon the subtle interplays between the three of them.

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The stage set up was somewhat peculiar with drummer and pianist both facing stage left. This means that, rather than eye to eye contact, the drummer actually looks at the back of the pianist’s head while he in turn, the pianist, looks into the wings.

It was a full  ¾ hour before the drummer hit a drum that wasn’t the snare.

This was wonderful uplifting stuff indeed.

They stopped, had an interval and then more of the same, but as you might imagine it wasn’t.

Absolutely lovely wee venue with cafe/bar tealights on the table. Somewhere up there Frankie Vaughan is smiling 🙂

Horsing about with Graeme Miller and Sven Werner

sound lab's photo.

What a perfect night to go see someone attack a piano with horsehair.
“It’s rock and roll, Jim but not as we know it”

Dressed in blue dustcoats, and looking like a pair of pantomime mad scientists, our protagonists, Graeme and Sven, stood pushing and pulling some absolutely heavenly sounds from their distressed piano. Due to the nature of the instrument, the finite length of the equine tailfeathers and the required proximity of the players, it was difficult occasionally to see what they were up to. Milking a cow? An impromptu game of Wiff Waff?
Regardless. At all time, the sound, which is what I was there for after all, was wonderful and superb. A sawing polyphonic multi-timbred racket ricocheting around the rafters of the sonically ‘bright’ Recital Rooms.
The sort of thing you could imagine a short trousered Phillip Glass whistling on his milk round.
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The Hills have ‘Ayes’!

Ayes