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Oh Mercy! What a year!

I've not written a blog for a while..I do apologies...you'd be forgiven for thinking that the label had gone in to hiding. I'm pleased to say we haven't and that 2015 will be another busy year for us.

Before looking forward let's take a look back for a moment...

The first year of Oh Mercy! Records was definitely memorable. From our launch gig in the back end of 2013 to Tony James Shevlin getting a review in R2 magazine in October 2014...it's been a great ride with releases from Phil Jackson, Rusty Boxx and the aforementioned Tony.

In reflection we probably took on too much, promoting 4 releases in 1 year was a lot of work and I'd not anticipated how much would be involved. That will be the first thing that changes in 2015, Oh Mercy! Records will likely only put out 2 releases. One of them will definitely be the Busking for Breakfast album and the other, well, you'll all have to wait and see ;-).

I'd like to thank all the journalists, blogs, DJs, magazines and promoters who have helped get the music out there. I have 100% faith in all the bands and music that the label puts out and it's always nice when you meet people that have the same passion for it...I guess it gives it some kind of validation!

I'd also like to thank all the bands, musicians and solo artists who have sent demos to the label. I promise to respond to them all...there are some very talented folk out there and I wish I could work with you all!

There'll be more news from Oh Mercy! HQ over the next few weeks regarding the release of Busking for Breakfast but in the meantime I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and an excellent New Year!

Love, Peace & Bananas

Pete @ Oh Mercy! Records

[ohmercyrecords]

Tony James Shevlin on his love of the Acoustic guitar

Oh Mercy recording artist Tony James Shevlin continues his story of the recording of Songs From the Last Chance Saloon.

The Acoustic guitar

The acoustic guitar is a wonderful instrument. Like the piano, it is all-encompassing; in the right hands it provides bass, rhythm and melody. However, the acoustic guitar is much more easily transported than the piano, and can be taken and used anywhere (check out Canadian astronaut Chris Hadfield playing one on the International Space Station – can you imagine NASA’s response if he’d asked to take a Steinway Grand?).  

For me, the acoustic guitar has always been a tool to present songs, a backing for my voice, really, so while I admire and am in awe of the likes of Eric Roach and Tommy Emmanuel, I am drawn to singer-songwriters who use the instrument to great effect to showcase their songs, in particular, the likes of Paul Simon and James Taylor, and of course, early Bob Dylan. John Lennon playing his Gibson J-160E acoustic also had a profound effect on me.  I remember going to the cinema as a small boy and seeing the movie of A Hard Day’s Night and wished I could own one. Unfortunately, that was way out of my price range.

I have to come clean and say that my reasons for taking up the guitar were not entirely musical. On the bus on my way home from school, aged 14, I was trying to look both cool and nonchalant to some girls who were fellow passengers. The bus stopped at a zebra crossing to let a quite nerdy-looking kid cross the road. He was carrying a guitar. “Look,” one of them said, “he’s got a guitar.” The girls all looked at him, admiringly. “Cool!” said one. That was enough for me, and I nagged my parents until they agreed to buy me my first guitar as a combined 14th birthday and Christmas present.

My first guitar was a Barnes and Mullins Clasico Spanish guitar from a music shop in Ipswich called Harpers (next to the Wimpy Bar and opposite Woolworth’s – all three shops are gone); it cost £7. That was a lot of money back then!

However, it wasn’t long before the likes of Marc Bolan and Mick Ronson lured me over to the electric guitar; even my accruing fascination with David Bowie and his 12-string acoustic couldn’t stop me purchasing a Japanese copy of a Gibson SG.

And it stayed that way for over 15 years. Fenders and Gibson came and went. It wasn’t until 1990 that I had occasion to take up the acoustic again as my primary instrument. My recording deal with CBS in the US had gone sour, the band I was in had split, and I was now a solo artist doing support slots in many of London’s venues. One was at the famous Marquee Club supporting Australian platinum award-winning artist Jenny Morris. Added to which, it was Anzac Day – when Aussies and Kiwis commemorate their involvement in WWII. The venue manager told me: “this place is going to be crammed with Antipodeans.” I looked at the battered Kimbara acoustic I had been using; clearly it wasn’t going to cut it. I wandered down to Denmark St, home to the myriad of musical instrument shops. In one I played a Takemine electric-acoustic – and fell in love. I knew that they cost about a £1,000. I asked the guy behind the counter how much it was. “£550” he said, clearly making a mistake. Keeping my best poker-face on, I asked if he could write that down for me on a piece of headed notepaper. This he did. I ran out of the shop and went across the street to another shop with a big sign in the window, saying – we’ll beat any price in Denmark St. I threw the headed notepaper down and said “beat that!” After a few moments of disbelief, they agreed that they would; they would knock £25 off and throw in a gig bag. “Could you write that down for me, please – on headed note paper?” They did. Eventually, after several crossings of Denmark St, I walked back to the Marquee with a brand new Takemine electric-acoustic in a hard case for £525. Its first outing was a fantastic gig in front of what seemed like every Aussie and Kiwi in London - and they know how to enjoy themselves. Jenny Morris was very encouraging and her management allowed me to take two encores. I still have the Tak’ and it’s been all over the world with me (including to Australia). It has given birth to many of my songs, and has been my main instrument in providing for my family. And it still sounds great. Technology may have moved on but venue sound engineers still remark on the quality of the guitar’s sound through a PA.

I have a second acoustic guitar; a Yamaha Folk guitar bought second-hand for £50 as a cheap – throw it in the back of the car, take it to the beach, don’t worry if it gets damaged, little run-around. Only now, I’ve had that so long, too, that I’d be mortified if anything happened to it.

 When it came to recording Songs From the Last Chance Saloon, these two were my mainstays.  The Tak’ is very evenly balanced in frequency, whereas the Yamaha has a deeper woody resonance. The two really complement each other.

Both were recorded acoustically with two microphones - one over the sound-hole and one at the bass of the neck. The acoustic guitar is central to the whole recording so we took a while getting the sound, trying out different mics and positions but it was worth the effort.

 For Faith in Myself, Heart and the High Moral Ground and Nobody I used both guitars playing in the same neck position.

Paradise South Ealing has both guitars on it; the Yamaha playing open chords in ‘A’; the Takemine with a capo at the second fret playing in the key of ‘G’.

Crying for 15 Years has the Takemine using open chords and the Yamaha with a capo on the 7th fret playing in ‘G’ (except for the last chorus in F# where the Takemine is capo’d at the 2nd fret playing in ‘E’ and the Yamaha capo’d at the 4th fret playing in ‘D’).

Crazy didn’t require any tracking; the earthy tones of the Yamaha was all that was needed, although I did add some Takemine, playing little riffs up the neck on the choruses.

Run Until we Drop was a mixture of the Takemine and Ian the engineer’s Levin 12-string acoustic. The Levin was in a dropped tuning and didn’t like being capo’d so I had to learn the song in a new key. It was worth spending time on, and the result has a very full West Coast sound in the vein of the Eagles or Tom Petty.

I Wish you Well is a solo take of the Takemine. I particularly wanted that song to be just one voice and one guitar.

Champagne Taste on a Lemonade Pay is also a single take of the Takemine but I knew I would be doubling up the part on an electric guitar.

Although I planned to have Cut Me as a solo voice and piano I recorded an acoustic guitar as a back-up just in case the piano version didn’t work out.

When it came to mixing the album, any solo acoustic is right in the centre, along with the lead vocal. Where there is double-tracking, they are panned left and right but only slightly – I wanted to retain that feeling of this being very much a singer-songwriter’s album. If you strip away all the other instruments underneath you will find one man and his guitar.

While I love the energy and drive of the electric guitar, it is the honesty and the integrity of the acoustic guitar that most calls to me, and when coupled with a song that tells a truth of humanity, it has the power to change a human heart.

I am forever grateful that the bus stopped to let that nerdy kid cross the street.

Next time:

Shevlin goes electric…

[ohmercyrecords]

Friends of Oh Mercy! Records: Sideways Through Sound Radio Show

We recently caught up with Mark Ward who presents the 'Sideways Through Sound' Radio show out in Sydney Australia. This award winning show can be heard every Wednesday 8-10pm Sydney on 2ser 107.3, 2ser Digital, and Every Friday 10-11pm across Australia on the Community Radio Network.

Hi Mark, can you tell us a bit about yourself and how Sideways Through Sound came into existence?

Sideways Through Sound started in 2007 when I relocated form Manchester to Sydney.  Having been involved in music one way or another for as long as I can remember in my hometown, I knew I wanted to do something here in Australia but didn't know what.  The Community Radio sector is vibrant and well respected here and is a wonderful forum for anyone interested in creating arts and culture as a viable alternative to commercial media.

When you're choosing music to feature on your show what is the criteria you're looking for?

Sideways Through Sound over the years has become it's own entity and as a result caters for music that fits it's own criteria.  Of course I'm the guide and if it resonates with me then I hope it will do the same with the listeners.  Psych Folk Drone and all variables within that...

What's the local music scene like in your area, any local bands you want to mention who are doing great things?

Coming to Australia and knowing nothing was a challenge.  Opening up the weekly street press and not knowing bands, venues or even where anything was made discovery quite fun...  it didn't take long to settle on a handful of venues doing good things and the groups and scenes that were circling around them. A lot has changed in Sydney in the last 5 years and the live scene is still very healthy (I'm off out tonight in fact to see Flyying Colours fro Melbourne)...  local bands worth checking out: Raindrop, The Walking Who, Hailer  and so much more... Melbourne's rockin' too !!

Are you an old school music consumer, i.e. CDs and Vinyl or would you say you've fully absorbed the digital music world?

I started spending all the money I had (not much) on records in 1978 and haven't stopped since...  I still buy CD's (not that many) and occasionally (very) but digital only tunes...  I never stopped buying vinyl but I think it's an 'And / And' kinda situation...

If any band are reading this and what to get there music to you how should they get in touch?

Send me an email at sidewaysthroughsound@gmail.com, I always reply :) X

[ohmercyrecords]

The Independent Label Market

We're just about recovered from the Independent Label Market so I thought it worth writing a blog about the day from the perspective of a new label being there for the first time.

From the moment I was aware of the label market (as a result of an AIM newsletter) I knew that I had to get Oh Mercy! Records there; a chance to get 'the brand' in front of an audience interested in discovering and supporting 'indie' music while also having the opportunity to rub shoulders with the 'big boys' like Domino, XL Records and more...it was too good an opportunity to turn down! If we sell a few bits then great, but it was predominantly a networking and marketing exercise for us.

We armed ourselves with the usual items you'd expect from a record label; CDs, Vinyl, t-shirts etc. but we also took cup cakes! The idea being that by handing out free cake we'd at least get some interest from the punters and they'd gravitate around our merchandise. I'm pleased to say it worked well; we fed some of the other labels too (Domino, Wah Wah 45s and the Cooking Vinyl folks all enjoyed the cake action). So at least people left our stall with a full stomach if not a CD or Record.

We also thought that some live performances from our stall would drum up a bit of attention. With this in mind, label signings Phil Jackson and Tony James Shevlin descended on the market, armed with their trusty acoustics. Sure enough, we generated a crowd with cameras and phones pointing in our general direction....another tick in the box ;-).

Finally, the decision to attend was further justified by meeting Huw Stephens, Radio 1's new music evangelist, and being able to pack him off with a bag full of all our releases to date. That alone was worth all the effort involved.

We left with new ideas for next time and full of enthusiasm of how we want the label to connect with our audience. There's no doubt in my mind that Oh Mercy! Records will be back at the label market in the future!

We'd also like to give a special mention to Topic Records, not only because they've been an indie label for 75 years, but mainly for the awesomely titled tradition folk compilation album they were selling entitled "Good humour for the rest of the night"....that'll take some beating!

Much Love,

Pete @ Oh Mercy! Records

[ohmercyrecords]

Loving June and Jackie

The latest blog post from our regular contributor Dave Hammond, presenter on Cambridge 105 FM and massive music fan. Here he talks about the music of Jackie Leven...enjoy

I love June, it's my favourite month for many reasons.

Generally speaking it's not too cold, not too hot. Even the rain has lost some of the bitter acid sting it has in the preceding months. And the bare branches of winter's trees are littered in green again with blossoms and colour aplenty, while the innocent young of many a species frolic and twitter to their hearts content. The sound of the word is comforting and suits the time of year perfectly. Blimey, even one of my favourite bands from the eighties are named after the month- The June Brides. I say the eighties- that's a little unfair as they have continued to release some excellent music over the intervening years, both as a band and as a solo enterprise for singer/guitarist/ songwriter and fungi expert Phil Wilson. In fact the band have a new single due for release later this year on the rather wonderful Occultation Records. If it's as good as the last single, January Moon, it will be a cracker.

Anyway Phil, what's with the January reference from The Junies? Historically, another reason I like June is because it's the month I was born. More recently the date of my birth has taken on a another significance as its also the birth date of one Alan Moffatt, also known as John St Field and Sir Vincent Lone, but probably better known (but not as well known as perhaps he should be) as Jackie Leven.

Though I was never fortunate enough to meet Jackie, in a strange way my aimless ambling along the path of life has often crossed junctions were his name has been writ large. Though I wasn't to realise it at the time, that first crossing of paths was on the day I was born, which was the day he celebrated his 11th Birthday. My first recollection of the man from the Kingdom of Fife was reading about him in the NME in the late 70's. At the time he was in a much feted band called Doll By Doll, a band who's live shows were apparently something to behold- passionate, almost violent post punk music with a real soul. To this day I regret not taking the opportunity to catch the band in their prime, missing out on a gig because I was ill.

Doll By Doll released four critically acclaimed lp's before splitting in the early 80's, and even got close to a hit single with the heartwrenching 'Main Travelled Road', a song written by Jackie about the pain of leaving his son, set to a traditional Scottish tune which you may recognise. This is a video of the song from a German television show, a country which Jackie was to visit many times as a solo artist, even recording a version of the Johnny Cash song 'I've Been Everywhere' with all the place names changed from US towns to German towns.

Jackie's solo career stalled in the early 80's when he was a victim of a vicious attack, a case of mistaken identity which left him fighting for his life and with a damaged larynx which prevented him from singing. Sinking into depression, he became a heroin addict. He eventually managed to clean himself up and in the process set up a drugs charity and holistic treatment centre called CORE ( Courage to stop, Order in life, Release from addiction, Entry into new life), which is still thriving to this day. Free of his addictions, he kick started his solo career in the early 90's and over the next 18 years or so released 20 plus lp's and a number of Fan Club only releases.

At this point I was blissfully unaware of what had happened to Jackie since the demise of Doll By Doll. Which brings me on to my next meeting with the mythical Jackie at the crossroads. I guess it was around 2002 when I bought one of the music monthlies, either Uncut or Mojo. I'd long stopped reading NME, which to my mind was just a shadow of the weekly it was in the 70's and 80's, partly because many of the great writers of the era (more of which later) had moved on. As usual, there was a cover mount cd featuring some of the months new releases. I noted there was a track by Jackie Leven, the beguilingly titled 'The Sexual Loneliness of Jesus Christ'. Was this the same guy from Doll By Doll I wondered? Sure enough, it was and, despite the presence of other great artists on the cd like Mercury Rev, Joe Strummer, Laura Nyro, The Chameleons and The House of Love, I was intrigued enough to skip all these and listen to the Jackie track first. A lonely keyboard, then some Scot talking about believing in himself. I was immediately hooked. Then more keyboards, almost mournful, followed by a solid drum beat and then this bizarre vocal seemingly fading in and out. A stunning chorus, brilliant instrumental break and gorgeous backing vocals. Six divine musical minutes which it seemed like I'd been waiting for all my life. I immediately played it again. Then again. God knows how many times I've heard this song (I'm listening to it now), but I get goose bumps every time...

I immediately bought the lp 'Creatures of Light and Darkness' and set about checking his back catalogue. He made sporadic appearances in the music monthlies, generally getting excellent reviews whenever he released a new lp, which seemed to be quite often. He appeared to be the classic 'cult' artist, getting rave reviews but with moderate sales. Every now and again I would come across people who knew of the man and would universally acclaim him to be one of the great unsung British singer/songwriters.

Fast forward to 2011 and somehow, completely unplanned and out of the blue, I find myself presenting a show on Radio Thetford (now sadly defunct- hope its not my fault). I introduced an 'Under the Radar' feature whereby I played tracks from lp's that weren't hits but had been critically acclaimed. So I decided to play some tracks from 'Creatures...'. One of the great things about Jackie is the sheer volume of great lp's, which means not everyone agrees on which one is the best. No matter, the tracks went down extremely well with people that hadn't heard his music before. This to me was what radio was all about- introducing music to people who might not have heard it before. And finding they like it.

A few months later and I'm in the studio again, presenting another couple of hours of new and old music from off the beaten track. I'd recently become acquainted through playing some Jackie songs on the show with a fellow Jackie fan who went by the name Tom Burgess. That's Tom, not Tim. I'd also played a song of Tom's on the show, a rather lovely number called 'Alone Liverpool Street'...

Now, I knew Jackie had been ill for a few months but hadn't thought it too serious- after all he'd just recorded and released a superb new lp with Michael Cosgrave, 'Wayside Shrines and the Code of the Travelling Man'. I was wrong. As always, I had facebook open so I could chat with people while on air. Part way through the show I saw a post from Tom stating that Jackie had very sadly passed away. I was stunned and my immediate thoughts were to just play music for the rest of the show and not say anything, my mind still reeling from this news. I gathered my thoughts and in the end announced the sad news on air, also stating I would re-arrange the rest of the show and play some Jackie tunes as a hastily arranged tribute.

One of the really odd things about this whole scenario related to one of the songs on the 'Wayside....' lp, 'A Kiss On The Cheek', which had been playing in my mind for some weeks as a sort of soundtrack to the long illness and eventual passing of my own Step Dad a few weeks earlier. The song, like so many of the great man's, struck a chord with me. It was the best part of two years later that I had a conversation with an old friend of Jackie's who said to me she firmly believed his music had a healing aspect to it. And she was right, that song helped me through that period, and the time a few short weeks later when my Mum, struggling to adjust to life without her husband of the previous 40 odd years, also passed away. I was becoming a regular at the local undertakers and it did cross my mind, in a dark, humorous, Leven-esque way, that I should be asking for a discount.

The humour- that was another aspect to the man which I found out about in 2013 when I decided to focus a lot of time and attention in putting together a tribute to Jackie Leven on my radio show. I was still a novice in radio-land and hadn't done anything like it before, but decided my passion for the subject matter would carry me through. So I started scouring the internet for information, for contacts, people he'd worked with or may have known. Given added confidence by several bottles of relatively cheap red wine, I set about contacting these people by email, face book and phone. The more I investigated, the more I became fascinated. The more I spoke to people the more I realised what a brilliant man and flawed genius he really was. Without doubt one of the great British songwriters of the last 40 years. Wild tales ensued of the Doll By Doll days from former band members, rowdy stories and hilarious anecdotes from friends and musicians he worked with, but what came across most was the love and esteem others held for him. Paul Du Noyer, a journalist with the NME when it was essential reading, was a friend and wrote these words about him following his death.

Talking to so many people, and listening to his music for several weeks before deciding which ones to add to the show was a most joyful and satisfying challenge. I became more aware of the songs, their meanings and the humour in them. I was forced to consider the beautiful and thought provoking poetry, and try to understand the soul that could have produced these songs. Songs of life and full of life. The generosity of a man who regularly sung about his own heroes (Townes Van Zandt, Kevin Ayres, Judee Sill, Johnny Cash etc) and often had 'guest' songs or artists on his lp's. The aforementioned 'Kiss On The Cheek' was actually written by John Mayfield and sent to Jackie for comment. In John's words, Jackie 'sprinkled his magic' on it and came up with an absolute beauty. Of course, not everything went smoothly in the course of putting the show together. Someone who became a dear friend on facebook on the back of hearing me play a Jackie tune on the show, invited me to what is affectionately known as 'Jockstock', a yearly gathering of friends of Jackie which has continued since his death to celebrate his legacy. On this occasion, Jackie's partner, Debbie Greenwood, had decided to sing some of Jackie's songs, with musical backing from Michael Weston King of My Darling Clementine, as a warm up for a gig they were to do at the Beverley Folk Festival with Ian Rankin, the celebrated novelist and another great friend of Jackie's. Without going into the detail of what was a very private and personal performance, I can assure you it was one of the most emotional and perfectly judged gigs I've ever seen. I managed to catch Michael after the show and he was only too willing to talk about Jackie for the next 90 minutes or so. It's just a shame I didn't have my recorder set up properly....

Even after the show was put together and broadcast, there were still people wishing to add their thoughts and comments. Eventually another 40 odd minutes were added to the original two hour show. To be honest the show could easily have had another couple of hours of songs and comments without a dip in quality or sustained interest. The extended show is now on Mixcloud for people to listen to and, more importantly, share with others. This music needs to be heard.

If I thought putting the show together would be the end of it, I'd be mistaken. Even now, Jackie's name comes up unexpectedly. Many musicians I've played on the show and spoken to or communicated with have shown them selves to be huge fans of the man. Recently, the excellent Tony James Shevlin was on the show to play a session to promote his new lp on Oh Mercy Records.

While in the studio, Tony and Pete both commented on a song I played. 'This has got a real warmth to it' said Tony. I explained it was by a new young artist called Dave Rae and was from his debut ep.'You can tell he's got a professional drummer on this, he's got a great touch and feel for the song' said Tony. Well, that drummer was one Dave McIntosh, the original drummer with Jackie's first band, Doll By Doll, and a contributor to the show on Mixcloud. I have to say, the best bits of his contribution had to be left off. Those guys certainly knew how to live...

Happy Birthday Jackie, RIP

Smelly Flowerpot 12-06-18

[ohmercyrecords]

We can't wait for this! We'll have our very own stall at the Independent Label Market selling limited edition vinyl, T-shirts, Badges, Cupcakes and CDs by Phil Jackson, Tony James Shevlin and Rusty Boxx.

We'll also have a number of offers and discounts on the day. To qualify for these offers all you need to do is download the LoyalBlocks app from the Play Store or Apples App Store and through the power of some pretty nifty technology you'll have offers automatically pinged to your phone when you're at or near our stall.

Here are the links:

Play Store: https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=loyalblocks.userapp

App Store: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/app/loyalblocks/id376560037?mt=8

That's not all either! We'll have live acoustic performances from Tony James Shevlin and Phil Jackson during the day.

Oh and did I mention there was a Beer Festival at the same time! WOOP, WOOP, WOOP!

[ohmercyrecords]

Tony James Shevlin on the Smelly Flowerpot show on Cambridge 105 FM

The Smelly Flowerpot on Cambridge 105: Tony James Shevlin in Session by Daveyhammond on Mixcloud

[ohmercyrecords]

Oh Mr Bass Man

Back from his sojourn in Nashville, Tennessee, Oh Mercy recording artist, Tony James Shevlin continues his story of recording the album Songs from the Last Chance Saloon.

Bass players are often seen as the poor relations of guitar players. There is this notion that bassists settled for four strings when six proved too much. It is quite wrong.

A good bass player is vital to the success of a band. He/she is the link between the rhythm and melodic content of a band; the glue between the drums and the guitars. The bass is part-rhythmic, part-melodic.

For the last 20 years I have made my living as a bass player. I kind of fell in to it, though, in that I worked with an excellent bass player who, unfortunately, was monumentally unreliable. So I not so much learned to play the bass but learned to play the bass parts to the songs in our set. After the first gig where I was called upon to demonstrate my new skill, our drummer, who was renowned for his brusque manner, commented: “I forgot that it was you playing bass.” I took that as a compliment and decided to investigate the art of bass playing further. I joined a Country band and when I felt competent in what is required from the bassist in that genre, I moved on to blues, and then to rock. Being able to play bass and sing lead vocal brought in a lot of gigs working in a guitar, bass and drums trio. It’s hard work – there’s no room for passengers, but as well as being musically rewarding it’s financially a plus, too.

Being a singer, I am naturally drawn towards bass players who double up as vocalists. Paul McCartney never seemed to feature in “Best Bassists” polls so beloved of the NME and Melody Maker. Being a Beatle seemed to overshadow his ability on four strings; he is a tremendous player, particularly when contributing to the other Beatle’s songs (Lennon’s Come Together, Harrison’s Taxman). I love Sting’s bass playing in the Police – the economy of notes used on tracks like Walking on the Moon and the verses in Roxanne. And Thin Lizzy’s Phil Lynott made bass playing sexy!

I was lucky enough to have Bruce Thomas, bass player with Elvis Costello and the Attractions play on an album of mine. It was a great learning experience, hearing him develop the basic lines of our demo recordings into the wonderful melodic versions on the final album. His use of harmonious passing notes was a master class which has stayed with me.

Whilst working as a music journalist, I was asked to interview one of my favourite bass players, the great Jack Bruce at his home in Suffolk. He was a genial host. As he told stories of his life, he would mention his friends: “So me and Jimi are in this pub…” I would interrupt: Sorry, Jimi? “Hendrix,” he said nonchalantly. Or, “I was hanging out at John’s house, and…” Sorry, John who? “Oh, sorry, – Lennon.” Oh, right, says I. I marvelled that his buddies - Eric, Mick, Pete and Paul were Clapton, Jagger, Townsend and McCartney.

As I was leaving Bruce Towers we walked past his music room; there on the wall was a Gibson EBO bass – the one he played on Cream Live at the Albert Hall. I stared at it. “Is that what I think it is? I asked. “Yes” he said, adding “would you like to play it?”

I heard myself saying yes. Moments later I’m sitting there with Jack Bruce’s legendary bass, and with the legendary Jack Bruce watching me. The man who wrote the song which contains arguably the most famous riff in rock music - Sunshine of Your Love - is waiting for me to play the bass on which he wrote that riff. He is watching me. Waiting. There is silence as I try to think of something to play. And the only notes I can hear in my head are the ones that make up Sunshine of Your Love. I am panicking. I search around my brain but I’ve got nothing. So I play the riff to Sunshine of Your Love. The amiable Bruce smiles at me, sympathetically but with just a hint of pity showing through. “I think I might know that one,” he says.

Other favourites include Roy Estrada of Little Feat, Andy Fraser of Free, Bernard Edwards from Chic, and Ronnie Lane from the Faces. I’m also a huge fan of the faceless session bassists who played on so many hit records of the sixties and seventies - David Hood (of Muscle Shoals) James Jamerson (of Motown’s Funk Brothers) and Carol Kaye (of the LA-based Wrecking Crew).

Unfortunately, in my role as a bass teacher at a music college, I have noticed that the most influential bass player of recent times is Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers. He is a marvellous musician, and I say ‘unfortunately’ because the only aspect of his style that my students seem to have taken notice of is his slap technique. And that’s all they want to do. And they think it’s funky. It is not.

I sit them down and play them Papa was a Rolling Stone by the Temptations. I tell them that producer Norman Whitfield had the bass player on that track (there is some dispute over whether it was James Jamerson or Bob Babbitt) repeat the same bass figure – just the one - all the way through the track because that was what the song needed. And that is funky!

So when it came time to record the bass parts for the new album Songs from the Last Chance Saloon, despite having the phone numbers of many great players whom I could have called upon – players whom I admire and am in awe of – I decided to play on the tracks myself. I knew what the songs needed, I knew what I wanted. It was important to me that the bass shouldn’t stand out or detract from the central idea of a song, a voice and a guitar.

I dusted down my old Fender Jazz bass which I rarely use when playing live anymore (it’s just too damn heavy for long gigs). It has a lovely warm round tone to it. This was put through a 15 year-old Ashdown 150 Amplifier Head and a Hartke 1 x 15 Cab. Any top end needed we took from the Direct Injection (D.I.) into the desk.

The bass parts were recorded in two evening session; four one night and four the next.

I played them in the order the drums were recorded which meant I was faced with Faith in Myself, Paradise South Ealing, Crazy and Crying for 15 Years on the first night.

Although I hadn’t played in a band with Tim the drummer for 18 years, it didn’t take long for me to lock into the groove he had set up on Faith in Myself. I kept my lines simple with a few variations on a central riff. This was also the first of four songs where the low E string was tuned a whole tone lower to the note of D. The song’s verses are in the key of E minor so this meant that I could play the open string (D) and ‘hammer on’ (to E) for a very effective riff. The choruses are in the key of D and for these I played a more melodic, flowing line. I had rehearsed extensively so I would have been disappointed if I hadn’t nailed it on the first take. Thankfully, I did.

Paradise South Ealing took a little longer. I was after a Ronnie Lane feel, a seemingly chaotic but effortlessly flowing line, reminiscent of his work with the Faces. My first attempts seemed too polite and rigid; I needed to play more open notes and vary where I placed them, sometimes ahead of the beat, sometimes behind. Once I found the right riffs I was able to relax and I found the groove (I’m sure Ronnie always recorded in a fairly, er, relaxed state of mind).

The bass line to Crazy could not be any more simplistic. It’s what bassists refer to as “first and fifths” where you mainly play the root note of the key (in this case G) and the fifth chord note (D) alternately. I knew I would be adding a tuba to the bass part in the solo section so it was essential that this part was very easy to follow. Once again, my E string was dropped a tone so I was able to employ a low D on the fifth chord. It almost rumbles! It took me a couple of run-throughs to acclimatise myself to the lazy ‘swing’ feel Tim had so successfully attained. If it had taken me any longer, I would have had to hang up my bass in shame!

The final track of the night was Crying for 15 Years. This required another swing feel. The downbeat is accentuated, with passing harmony notes to add a bit of colour. The song changes key twice from its initial key of D to E and finally to F#; the last change meant a change of positioning which I kept forgetting. Fortunately, it followed an a cappella section which meant there was an easy place to drop into the recording with a good run-up.

The following evening’s session started with Champagne Taste on a Lemonade Pay. I had recorded this song many years ago as part of a band. The bass player in that band had come up with an amazing line, almost reggae-like that was played across the beat. It was quite stunning but even back then, I knew it wasn’t quite right (or, perhaps, with me being something of a traditionalist, it wasn’t what I really wanted). Often when writing, I hear in my head an artist whom I admire, performing the song. In this case, I heard the wonderful JJ Cale. The rhythm section to a track like this requires economy; what you leave out is just as important as what you put in. Tim had agreed with me and had set up a very simple brushes played on snare drum groove; all that was required to complement this was a basic County-Blues line which I was happy to supply. It was great fun to play and makes the track bounce along.

The bass part for Heart and the High Moral Ground is my favourite on the album, probably because it’s the most intricate part, with variations each time it occurs, taking into account the dynamics of each verse. I was after the kind of nuance and subtlety Davey Faragher brings to the table when working with the likes of Bonnie Raitt and John Hiatt, where you don’t really notice the bass line but if you took it away, some of the emotional heart of the song would disappear.

There was a very obvious line to play on Run Until we Drop; the challenge was to find something that was original without drawing attention to itself. I tried to imagine what Bruce Thomas would have played and, to that effect, there are lots of harmonious passing notes. I like to think the ex-Attraction would enjoy my homage to his wonderful style.

The bass line to Nobody is the one line I can’t take credit for and is the one that caused me the most worry. It was taken from an old recording on which bass wizard Spy Austin (Desmond Dekker, George Clinton, Style Council) worked his magic. It contains a beautiful flowing riff which, even when I play the song solo on acoustic guitar, I still hum in my head. Spy is such an exceptional musician that I was worried that I would not be able to do his line justice. After a couple of run-throughs, even though I played it exactly as he had, it didn’t sound comfortable; it didn’t sound right. It didn’t have the same feel. And that was the problem; instead of playing the line in my own way, I was coming out with this second-rate version of Spy. I took a break for a cup of tea and a Jaffa Cake or two (these became a session staple) and thought about how Tony James Shevlin should play it. I took the original line as a basis and adapted to suit my own style. This immediately felt more welcoming, and once I relaxed, I started adding notes until I had a line that, while indebted to the original, felt appropriate, was in keeping with the style of the album, and rocked along like a good ‘un.

I doubt if anyone will listen to Songs from the Last Chance Saloon and say: “Great bass playing!” but that was never my goal; the bass is there to enhance the drums, support the guitars, and help the whole ensemble hang together, and listening back to the album as a whole, I think it does just that.

In my career as a bassist, I have always tried to stay true to the Ten Bass Commandments (on occasions, I have struggled with the fourth)

1. Thou shalt not f**k up the groove. F**k up the notes if thou must, but not the groove.

2. Thou shalt not lust after thy guitar player's part. He keepeth the fun, thou keepeth the groove.

3. Be thou not swayed by a drummer with crappy time, for thou art the keeper of the beat.

4. Be thou not led into temptation before the gig. After is cool.

5. Thou pusheth thy luck with five strings, six is a mortal sin, for thou hast no business in the upper register.

6. "Thou shalt not thump with thy thumb, nor honk with a pick when thy fingers are the way of truth.

7. Thou shalt not fear whole notes, for they can be the way and the light.

8. Thou shalt leave the fancy s**t to thy bandmates, so they might wrestle with their own bad taste.

9. Thou shalt change thy strings at least once per decade, whether they need it or not.

10. Thou shalt tune thy bass before each and every gig, even though it was in tune when last thou put it away.

Amen to that!

Next time: Six strings down

[ohmercyrecords]

Life of an Anorak: Davey Hammonds latest blog

Our regular Blogger, Davey Hammond, talks about what it's like to be a music anorak as well as referencing some great tunes!

My wife thinks I’m an anorak when it comes to music. She’s probably right.

However, I know lots of people who are even more obsessive and have a far greater knowledge on the subject than I could ever have.

Let’s examine some of the evidence relating to me, and see if you recognise anything of yourself in what I’m about to put before you.

First of all, let’s examine those big life events. Most people will associate certain major events in their life with a piece of music or a song which has significant meaning to them. At least I think they do. You know the sort of stuff I mean- the song you had played at your wedding (or weddings….), or something that reminds you of the birth of your children. Some folk even plan in advance what they would like playing at their funeral. Personally I find it slightly disconcerting that people want to play with your already fragile emotions from beyond the grave by playing their favourite tear jerker as the coffin is lowered into the ground. REM’s Everybody Hurts seems to be a favourite in that respect, though maybe The Jam’s Going Underground would be a more tongue in cheek option. And some people like to have them rocking in the aisles to something like Madness and One Step Beyond as the curtain is drawn and they go up in smoke. The Jam have also got this one covered with ‘Funeral Pyre’. Maybe Paul Weller saw a gap in the market here- I look forward to the compilation ‘This is the Modern After World in a Coffin with All Mod Cons’. 

My Dad, bless him, didn’t get to choose the tunes he wanted to torture the assembled gathering with. H e had a willing stand in though- as Musical Director (and Director of everything else for that matter) for his funeral I went for ‘Wandering Star’ by Lee Marvin which I knew was one of his favourites. Poignant and perfectly matched to what he was like in real life. The knowing smiles on mourners faces as the tune came over the Crematorium PA was vindication of that choice to me. Of course, he also liked Lieutenant Pigeon’s ‘Mouldy Old Dough’ but my sister vetoed the inclusion of that little gem.

Being an anorak, I’ve thought about what tunes could be floating across the ether as the cruel world bade me farewell. One that tickled my fancy was the wonderful Wreckless Eric and his ‘Final Taxi’ which, as you may have guessed, is about the final journey with one inevitable destination . It makes me smile anyway. As for the rest- well you’ll just have to turn up, though perhaps a posthumous podcast might be on the cards for those that can’t make it…..

Those smaller, seemingly insignificant life events can also hold musical memories. I remember well the heated discussion I had as a nine year old with a friend I used to knock about with. We nearly came to blows over the words to Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘Feeling Groovy’. We stopped talking to each other for days.

And there was the misery heaped on me by the Moody Blues and ‘Nights in White Satin’. I’d just started senior school and was trying to get into the football team. I saw myself as a midfield general, though in reality I wasn’t even a corporal. I got my big chance, but as a goal keeper. For an hour, there was nothing to do and I found myself performing a silly walk along the six yard box while singing the refrain ‘And I love you, yes I love you’ over and over. To myself of course. I was so immersed in my private little performance I failed to notice the opposition attacking the goal. There was a bit of a scramble, the ball took a deflection and, still coming out of my Moody Blues haze I managed to let the ball through my legs into the goal. I can’t listen to Justin Hayward anymore without feeling the shame.

On a more positive sporting and musical note, I have happy memories of hitting a Pietersen like 50 for Marconi 2nd XI CC to a soundtrack in my head of the Lotus Eaters ‘First Picture of You’ and also remember ‘Under the April Skies’ by The Jesus and Mary Chain rattling around the cranium as I took two catches at deep mid-wicket to tie a cup final for North Hull Engineers. Which was odd as it was August and the sky was blue. We got hammered in the replay, though I don’t remember any song playing in my head for that one.

It’s not just events in my life that have a soundtrack playing in my head. Like many a person of my age, I’ve met thousands of people, some who’s name I recall and others who I don’t. But there are many people who I can picture by the music I knew they liked rather than the things we did or the time we spent together. Now, even I find this a little sad.

For example, I knew four brothers in the village I grew up in: Steve loved ‘Motorbiking’ by Chris Spedding (possibly the only person to have played on songs by The Wombles and the Sex Pistols), Kev couldn’t get enough of ‘The Story of The Who’, Del was quite partial to The Icicle Works and Paul aka Smiler… well, I never recall him getting too excited about anything. Which may be why he quite liked Sade.

I’m not sure how all of you remember past girlfriends or boyfriends but for me there will always be a song or artist I associate with them. A brief schoolboy flirtation with Abigail (who was very popular with the boys, hence the slightly cruel nickname Abbey National) introduced me to Cat Stevens ‘Moonshadow’ while the wonders of Steve Harley and Cockney Rebel were the lasting impression left by Dawn. There was another girl, who shall remain nameless (only because I can’t remember it), who broke my heart. Not because we split up, but because she kept my 12 inch pink vinyl copy of ‘Hit and Miss Judy’ by Wreckless Eric when we did part.

Then there was Jane. Not only did she endear herself to me by a shared love of Graham Parker and the Rumour, but she also went to see The Distractions with me, and bought me a copy of their classic Factory single ‘Time Goes By So Slow’ on white vinyl. Now that’s what I call love- part 19. Karen played Bon Jovi’s ‘Bed of Roses’ over and over and over. I should have known then that the relationship was doomed from the start.

Of course, I wasn’t always the innocent in all of this. I’m sure some remember me as the 13 year old with the greasy hair and a strange fascination with ‘Magneto and Titanium Man’ from Paul McCartney and Wings ‘Venus and Mars’ lp, or feel bitter about me keeping the Pioneer Music Centre when we split. No need to feel bitter- it chewed up my tape recording of Peel’s Festive Fifty for that year.

/p>

And what about my wife, the one who thinks, nay knows, I’m an anorak? Well, I can’t say I associate one song or artist with her, which is hopefully a good thing. Maybe she transcends all this stuff, and maybe it’s a sign our relationship will last. Fingers crossed.

Even people I’ve met recently get the music-name-face association. I can’t think of Oh Mercy!’s very own Pete Thompson without visualising him flailing a guitar to The Who’s ‘Baba O’Riley’. Then there’s the vision I have of a recent work colleague who stood about 6 foot 7 inches tall. He was into dance music and I can’t help but see him, arms in the air scraping his knuckles on the ceiling of the dance floor. 

There it is, the irrefutable evidence from the prosecution that I am an obsessive, a true musical anorak. Maybe worn at the elbows a bit, and a couple of buttons short of being fully fastened, but an anorak nevertheless. 

What about you- where do you fit in the scheme of things? 

          Smelly Flowerpot 

1st May  2014

[ohmercyrecords]

Friends of Oh Mercy! Records: Sarah Quinn - GIGglepics

We continue our 'Friends of...' series with an interview with Sarah Quinn from GIGglepics, a Kent-based music news website chock full of interviews, podcasts, reviews and photographs.

Hi Sarah, can you tell us a little bit about GIGglepics and what you do there?

Hi guys, thanks for including us in your 'shine a light' feature.  GIGglepics was a solo hobby project initially, photographing gigs which has grown in epic proportions.  Attending various gigs around Kent and London I found a huge passion and decided I wanted to do something to try to help the local music scene.  I decided to start a Facebook page to host the photos and then someone suggested a blog.  From there I decided I wanted people to experience the feel of a live gig as much as possible to attempt to get more people out to gigs and listening to live music.  I started to write live gig reviews and post up links to the band pages, obtain music from the band to post into the review with the photos, so people could read about the bands, see the bands and hear the bands.  These became so popular others started to get in touch and ask if they could get involved.  We now have over 50 volunteers on our books, each working to gain a published portfolio and references for paid employment in the music industry.  Through this we have developed massively and now do live gig reviews and photography, EP/Album reviews, 2 monthly original music podcasts which are hugely popular and are even putting on our own first event with a 12 hour, mixed genre, original #gigglefest in June.

I expect you receive a lot of emails from bands asking for reviews and features, is there any advice you can give to musicians on the best way to catch your eye and make you want to invest your time in listening to their music?

The very first thing I'd say is try to make it slightly personal.  None of us like receiving cc emails sent to the masses.  Be polite, introduce yourself and say hi!  You'd be surprised how many we receive with 'check out our bands music' and a mere link to a page.  Include links to all your social media pages and a short description of your band. Treat it like a job application, if you can't be bothered to put the effort in then why should we?  Don't demand or expect.  Music review sites receive massive amounts of emails asking for help.  Lastly I'd say drop a follow up email over but not too soon.  We frequently get bands email us a couple of days after the original email.  We want to help you but due to high demand it may take a while.

One of the main reasons behind Oh Mercy! Records was to bring the music of independent and 'unsigned' bands to a larger audience and show that there is a lot of talent, not only in East Anglia, but around the country. Would you say the music scene in Kent is thriving? Who are the bands in the area that are making waves?

This is a difficult one.  We often see and debate the local music scene with many feeling that the local scene is dying!  In some ways we do agree, with many venues closing down however all is not lost or that glum.  We're attending so many great gigs around Kent and London right now.  I think we live in a society that expects things to be handed on a plate these days.  To many expect stardom and are no longer prepared to put in the hard graft to get there.  We are seeing a huge growth in Kent bands making it onto various BBC Radio 1 playlists via BBC Introducing.  Right now I'd draw attention to Feed The Rhino, Story Books, Get Inuit, Mourning Birds, House on Fire, Gentlemen of Few and CoCo and the Butterfields in particular.

We're seeing a decline in the number of venues willing to put on original bands and tribute/cover bands are still the ones making the money from gigs. What do you think needs to change in order for people to realise that original music should be respected and rewarded?

Hmm this is a very difficult question and one that we debate frequently.  There seems to be a big down turn in original music at the moment which is extremely frustrating.  We are always pointing out to people that covers are originals and were once unknown!  At the moment originals bands are finding it very hard to not just book gigs but also to make any money from them.  Covers/tribute bands make good money but they do not have the extra task of writing material.  I think main stream radio could do far more to help this by including more unsigned independent music on their shows.  Original gigs seem to be becoming more and more 'underground' and not gaining the attention from the public that it deserves.  We also need more original bands playing festivals, we have many covers bands small family day festivals down here but few originals.  

Finally, if anyone reading this is interested in getting involved with GIGglepics, either as a musician seeking a review or someone wanting to write for you, how can they get in touch?

We have many ways to get in touch with us.  You can send us a message on our Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/GIGglepics and one of the team will get back to you.  Alternatively we have our twitter @GIGglepics13.  If you are interested in becoming involved in what we do in some way, we have a page dedicated to this in our website: http://gigglepics.co.uk/becoming-involved/ which will give you all the details you need to know.  Of course then there is good old fashion email: gigglepicsreviews@gmail.com.  Huge thanks to Oh Mercy! Records for featuring us on their blog!  

[ohmercyrecords]

Pre-order 'Songs From the Last Chance Saloon' on CD

We hope you enjoyed the blog updates from Tony James Shevlin and the streaming of the album over the last couple of weeks. We've had some great feedback on the tracks and several people asking how they can get hold of the album.

We are pleased to announce that you can now pre-order the album on CD from our music glue page for £8 (plus 50p for delivery in the UK, £1 Europe and £2 Worldwide). The album will be delivered to you during release week which is 31st May.

If you prefer to download your music then you'll be able to download 'Songs From the Last Chance Saloon' from all good download sites, including Amazon, iTunes, HMV and 7 Digital, from 31st May 2014.

In the meantime why not stream the whole album from our soundcloud page?

[ohmercyrecords]

Letter From America #3 - Tonys final thoughts from Nashville

Everything seems to happen slowly here. It's as if there is time, and then there's Tennessee time. It might be something to do with the heat; it slows you down. Or at least, walking slowly conserves your energy. I have yet to see someone here running for a bus. Or it might be that you get used to having to wait a full fifteen minutes for a slow-moving  train to cross your path, and there's nothing you can do about it. This opportunity to fully consider things is evident in much of the songwriting I've come across in the last two weeks. No observation is rushed, no word is wasted. The songs are as matured as the local bourbon. 

I grew up listening to Country Music. My dad had many Country albums. Most of them were quite schmaltzy from the "Nashville Sound" era of the mid 60s when pedal steel guitars gave way to rich string sections and choirs. But it was the songs that appealed to me. The clever use of language with succint phrases, conveying in a simple way, stories of love and loss, hardship and adversity, shared truths and common experiences. When asked what you need for a good song, veteran songwriter Harlan Howard, who penned classics such as I Fall to Pieces and Heartaches by the Numbers, said: "Three chords and the truth".  I firmly believe that.                                                                                         Back then when I was listening to Ray Charles on our Dansette record player, singing You Win Again, I had no idea he was covering a song by Hank Williams. When Charlie Pride sang Tiger by the Tail, it was my introduction to the songs of Buck Owen. This was the early seventies, I was in to Bowie and Bolan, and yet I knew off by heart all the words to Johnny Cash's A Boy Named Sue. One album, in particular that had a profound effect on me was Marty Robbins' Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs. The storytelling, the rhymes and the metre are still a benchmark for me. I have heard songs here in Nashville that have given me the same goosebumps that hearing Robbins singing The Master's Call gave me back then. 

The song is everything. The guys (and gals) here don't talk about great albums by current artists, they talk about the great songs on the album. and know the names of the people who wrote them.

I have been humbled on my visit to Nashville. By the kindness of the people, by the passion with which the writers of these songs live their lives, but mostly, by the songs I have heard. And I have been privileged to have been accepted as a colleague by the many songwriters I have met in the past two weeks.

Through this acceptance, I have been given access to the bars where the tourists don't go.  My guide on this journey has been Gary Cavanaugh, a superb songwriter from Colorado now resident in Nashville. Gary lived in London for a few years in the 1970s and has never forgotten the kindness that was shown to him. He is paying that kindness forward, and I am the lucky recipient. He has taken me to open mic nights that are off the beaten track, introduced me as, "this is Tony, a songwriter from London, England" and has practically insisted I be given a slot. 

One evening, Gary and I played together at Richard's Cafe in White's Creek, across the road from where Jessie and Frank James once hid out. Although it's only half an hour from Nashville, you are transported to the owner's home state of Louisiana. There is Cajun food on the menu - I had Alligator Bites, Red Beans and Rice, and Jambalaya. Oh, and Pecan Pie! Richard is also a musician and songwriter. He  makes Tony Joe White sound like James Blunt. Even our waiter is in on the act: he casually announces that last week he had a song of his played on the TV drama, Nashville. 

After our gig at Richard's, Gary and I headed back into town to Bobby's Idle Hour Tavern, one of the most difficult open mic nights to get into. Although I wasn't booked to perform, Gary managed to swing it.  

What I didn't count on, was that when the doors closed the real business started. I was told that the barman, Jonathan, was a great writer but that he rarely played. Gary and I cajoled him that I would not be here again, and eventually, he agreed to play. The songs, and the unique, laconic style he played them in left me stunned. One song about the devastation that man is wreaking on the planet called Only Man Can Make a Mountain Cry made me cry. After he finished, the guitar was passed around. Thankfully, I wasn't next. But as he guitar went from one writer to the next, it was brought home to me once more that this city really was the home of songwriting.

I have preferred the open mic nights to the actual gigs. It's a great opportunity to hear other writers, and it's a good test of whether your songs are cutting the mustard, when they are are put up alongside the works of Nashville writers. I was lucky in that the English accent introducing the songs, makes people stop and listen; but then you have to back it up. I think I did okay, and where ever I've played, people have shook my hand, complimented me on my songs, and taken an interest in my story.

At the Douglas Corner Cafe, where I was honoured to have Donnie Winters, who was a contemporary of the Allman Brothers Band and Lynrd Skynrd play dobro on one of my songs, I met Brad from Oklahoma, and Scott from Iowa. They invited me down to the National Songwriters Association International (NSAI) on Music Row to write a song with them.  Co-writing is a common occurrence in Nashville but it was new to me. Brad sounds like a cross between John Mellancamp  and Steve Earle singing Garth Brooks songs. He offered up a song he had, but was not happy with, and was prepared for us to work on it. It's hard criticising someone's song when you don't know them. Fortunately, Tomorrow is too Late is a good song; it just needed knocking into shape. Scott and I both contributed valuable changes and we all went away thinking it was a better song; Brad is now back in Oklahoma recording it.

Scott and I met again a few days later. He has a beautiful singing voice and writes songs that tear at your heart. We wrote a song from scratch; a proper country song in the Hank Williams tradition called I'm Glad I Woke up Alone. I could get used to co-writing if it's as easy as this.

Although I was here to work, I felt as though I ought to hit the tourist trail; there is a lot to do here but I decided to be selective. I opted for a visit to the Country Music Hall of Fame. In there, I learned a lot about the history of Country Music and its subgenres.

                                                                                                                 Seeing guitars owned by Hank Williams, Johnny Cash and Gram Parsons was spine-tingling.   My ticket included a visit to the famous RCA Studio B where Elvis recorded a huge amount of material. Jim Reeves, The Everly Brothers, Dolly Parton and Roy Orbison were regulars, too.                                                                                              Walking in to the studio gave me goosebumps. When I was invited to play the piano which featured on literally hundreds of hit songs including the Big O's Crying and Elvis's Are you Lonesome Tonight? it was all I could do to stop myself welling up. 

I didn't think that experience could be topped. But the following day, I visited the Ryman Auditorium, a converted gospel tabernacle, known as the "Mother Church" of Country Music,  which was home for many years to the famous Grand Ole Opry radio show. The tour was interesting and informative, with lots of anecdotes thrown in for good measure.  While I was waiting in line to have my picture taken on stage, I started thinking about all the greats who had graced that stage over the years: Johnny Cash, Kris Kristofferson, Buck Owens; and the ladies : Patsy, Dolly, Tammy and Emmylou; and of course, Hank Williams. When I got on stage, the guide handed me a Martin guitar. I strummed it and it was in tune. I couldn't resist it; I started singing and playing Your Cheating Heart. Quietly, at first. The photographer said: "Belt it out, sir." so I did. the acoustics were amazing. I was lost in the moment. I like to think that a ghostly choir of Hank, Patsy and Johnny were singing along with me. The people in the auditorium clapped along and applauded at the end. So, now I can tell people that I've sung at the Ryman.

I love the people of this town. I love Southern hospitality; I love their turn of phrase: like when Gary tells me that the girl he nearly married is now on her fifth husband. " I really dodged a bullet there!" he says, nonchalantly.

I came to Nashville because I'd always wanted to visit the place where all those albums my dad had were recorded. But I also had a new album of my own, Songs From the Last Chance Saloon to promote, and I wanted to see if those songs would stand up by themselves in the home of songwriting. Despite its title, it is not a Country album, and yet, in some way I feel like I'm bringing it back home. I come from an Irish background; the folk traditions of Ireland heavily influenced Country music, so I like to think that that is why my songs have been accepted so readily, here in Tennessee. 

I know in my heart that this will not be my only visit to Nashville. I've made too many friends here not to come back here someday soon. There is a real community of spirit in this town. I think it helps songwriters to be among like-minded souls when striving to realise a dream. They might be waiting tables or tending bars but when you ask them what they do, they say: "I'm a songwriter".  I've always said that I write songs not because I want to but because I need to.  In a bar. late one night, one Nashvillian put it quite succinctly, when he said: "You don't choose music, music chooses you".

Till next time, Music City, "If the Good Lord is willing and the creek don't rise."

[ohmercyrecords]

Letter from America #2 - Tony James Shevlin's notes from Nashville

Hot off the press...another blog from Tony while he continues his Nashville adventure. At the end of the blog you can hear another track from the album, the award winning 'Cut Me (I'll bleed like any man)'

Every city has a rhythm.  New York and London are frenetic; Paris and Rome, less so. Moscow's is taught. I was having trouble finding Nashville's rhythm. I think it could be that the city has been invaded this weekend by fans of women's basketball from the states of Indiana, Maryland, Connecticut and New York, whose teams were playing for the NCAA title and with them they bought a little of the feel of their own cities. In all the bars there was good natured banter between the fans that would put our football fans to shame.

I have opted to stay in a hostel and not a hotel. The downtown hotels are very expensive. The Nashville Downtown Hostel is a third of the price. I must come clean here - I couldn't bear the thought of sharing with a bunch of sweaty youths so I have got my own room. The decision to stay in the hostel had proved itself to be a good one. Most of the young staff are musicians and songwriters, drawn from all over the US to Music City. One lad, Connor from Bangor, Maine is a banjo player who has just hooked up with a cellist. Banjo and cello! I heard them rehearsing the other night - it sounds awesome! Everywhere you go, there is music. As I write this in the lounge area of the hostel, I'm listening to the sounds of Johnny Cash. We've already been treated to  John Prine, Neil Young and Creedence Clearwater Revival - you wouldn't get that in a Holiday Inn!

I was lucky enough to have my first Nashville performance at the famous Bluebird Cafe. it is widely known as the venue where Garth Brooks was discovered. More recently, it has been featured in the US TV drama Nashville. Its new celbrity status is having an effect. Tourists are turning up, not so much for the music but hoping to see members of the cast (I'm reliably informed the TV studio have built a replica Bluebird set on a soundstage out of town). 

It would be a shame if this revered venue  - the cafe's motto is "shhhhhhhhh" - turned into something like the Hard Rock Cafe. I would hate it if the respect shown to songwriters was diminished by a TV show that at its heart has some fantastic songs (later on in the week, I would meet someone who has had a song used on the show).

When I went on stage and said "hello" and not "hi", there was a quiet "ooh". I introduced myself as coming from England and being very happy to be in the home of songwriting. I thought I needed to make an impression quickly and played my song Nobody. It went down very well. The audience listened intently. The English accent is a great asset. When I came off stage, there was a lot of interest in my story about being in Nashville and almost everyone i spoke to offered advice about what I should do in my time there. They told me which were the best open mic nights to go to after I had finished my gigs. Open mic nights are a great way to meet other writers and performers. One venue kept coming up - Douglas Corner Cafe. It was the venue where the great Guy Clark recorded his live album, Keepers. 

I took the bus. I like buses, but being dropped off at a junction where Robert Johnson would have said, "Hmm, maybe not" did make me wonder about the merits of wandering the streets of midtown Nashville with a thousand dollar guitar.

The Douglas Corner Cafe was, to put it mildly - earthy. It was dark and dingy. In other words, it was everything I hoped it would be. It was hosted by Donny Winters, whose band, The Winters Brothers Band were contemporaries of Lynard Skynrd and the Allman Brothers, and whose father had played with Marty Robbins. Every now and then, from behind the mixing desk, Donny would add some incredibly beautiful dobro playing to the music being played on the stage.

The standard of the acts varied immensely. There were some clearly experienced performers, with exceptional songs, alongside those who were just starting out. The latter were accorded just as much respect as the  elder statesmen; in fact, the oldies gave encouragement and advice to the newbies. 

There are four of you on stage and you play between two and four songs each (depending on the demand to perform). One song each from left to right and then round again until everyone has performed. Then four more songwriters take over. 

As Nobody had served me so well at the Bluebird, I opened with that. Once again, it hit the spot. When it came time to do my second song, I opted for Crazy. I had planned something more serious but I had just heard a Jewish guy do a reworking of George Harrison's My Sweet Lord retitled My Sweet Boy (he's a schmuck). So I invited a young girl who had played earlier, up on stage to play the trombone solo from the recording - on kazoo! It worked a treat. I made lots of friends that night. Brad from Oklahoma and Scott from Iowa (everybody's from somewhere - I'm Tony from England), I would write a song with later on in the week, and Gary from Colorado would become my mentor around town. Liam from Houston, Texas gave me a ride back to town (they don't give you a lift, they give you a ride). Liam had just arrived in Nashville and was sleeping in his truck until he found work to subsidise his songwriting. Just about every waiter or barman I've met is a songwriter. Later on in the week, a barman will play me the best ecological song I've ever heard, that moved me to tears. As my buddy, Brad says: "You can't judge a book by its cover. Most likely, they'll hand you a new ass." Quite. I think.

I'm trying to eat healthily. I make a daily trip to the market to buy fruit and vegetables for my breakfast and lunch, and then I eat at the venue I'm playing at in the evening. I've been getting some strange looks from other hostel guests as I chop up bananas, grapes and dried apricots. One guy said, "That sure looks good. Be better with some cream on it, though". The evening meal will feature a lot of something fried or smothered in a sauce or with "all the fixin's". 

On my first day walking back from the market, a couple stopped me and asked me the way to the Ryman Auditorium. I apologised that I didn't know, and that I was a stranger, myself. Whenever I engage with people and they hear the English accent, it invariably leads to a conversation where they tell me where their ancestors were from - Inger-land, Ire-land or  Scot-land".  It is just their way of breaking down barriers and making me feel welcome. Long may it continue.

Today as I walked home from the market with my shopping, a couple asked me for directions. I knew where they were heading, and so I told them - in my best  southern accent, finishing with, "y'all have a good day, now, y'hear?" They thanked me and went on their way.

I think I'm starting to find the rhythm of Music City. It's a beat I can dance to.

[ohmercyrecords]

Knob Twiddling and other activities

Our regular Blogger Dave Hammond brings us his latest instalment. A great read on the joys of radio and discovering wonderful music!

It’s flipping addictive this radio thing, and it’s importance as far as music is concerned can’t be underestimated. Even in this digital age were everything is available with a few touches on a keypad.

In fact, you could argue that radio has benefited from, and become even stronger thanks to the web. After all, it’s enabled the smallest bedroom broadcaster with the most obscure, specialist subject matter to find an audience (even a very small one) anywhere in the world. Even on a grander scale it’s enhanced the choice that’s available to the casual or serious listener. And for that we should be eternally grateful.

Radio listening figures are apparently at an all-time high, even though some of the ‘giants’ like Radio 1 aren’t faring quite so well. I guess much of this is down to listeners wanting a little more variety rather than being force fed an industry promoted playlist. And the other thing for me, having listened to many local community and internet presenters recently, is their sheer enthusiasm for the music they want to play. For them it really is all about the music, and not the cult of personality. Let’s not forget that the majority of these presenters are volunteers, doing it because they are passionate about the music. Which is pretty much what to means to me- the thrill of finding new music and sharing it, or even sharing those relatively obscure bands I used to listen to in the past. Just to get one comment per show from a listener saying ‘what was that last song again, I really like it’ makes the research and effort all worthwhile. It’s the best hobby I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a few in my time.

As a kiddie (an awful long time ago), I remember we had a Bush valve radio in the house which was invariably tuned in to Radio 1 during the day. I remember being fascinated by the dial which ran across the face of the radio like a series of tram lines, with various exotic sounding places written at what appeared to be random intervals. There was a series of numbers  relating to frequencies and the words ‘Long’ and ‘Medium’ written at either end.  Where was Hilversum? What did BBC Light mean? And Rekyavik, Berlin and Luxembourg?  I used to commandeer the set on an evening while the rest of the family watched Slapstick and Old Lace, or Steptoe and Son or something similar. I twisted the tuning knob, ear pressed to the speaker grille listening for all the different sounds coming in and out through the static. Hell, in winter I could even warm my hands on the set while peering through the grille at the softly glowing valves. I became a fan of Luxembourg, and having heard about the slightly dangerous sounding pirate stations, I trawled the airwaves searching them out. It was fascinating and addictive. I go all nostalgic every time I hear Van Morrison (In the Days Before Rock’n’Roll) or Martin Stephenson (Sunday Halo) reminiscing about radio.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a2GpEoZrS04

http://music.daintees.co.uk/track/sunday-halo

The first DJ I recall hearing (even then it was all about listening to the music rather than the DJ) was Ed ‘Stewpot’ Stewart on Junior Choice. Not that I wanted to listen, but my parents made me sit through two hours of the show waiting to hear a dedication to my Auntie Sue, who was in Cyprus with her soldier husband. The first DJ I actually made a point of listening to was Alan ‘Fluff’ Freeman, who presented a Saturday afternoon rock show. He played songs that were over ten minutes long and had big dramatic jingles featuring snippets of classical music- radical stuff to an impressionable teen.

It wasn’t long after that I discovered John Peel. He was different. For one thing, he didn’t have a whacky nickname, such as the aforementioned Stewpot and Fluff and others including ‘Diddy’ David Hamilton and Tony ‘Plonker’ Blackburn. OK, I may have made that last one up. And he didn’t play loud and lairy jingles, or shout at the listener. For him, it was all about the music. And he cocked up regularly with his links, dead air, records at the wrong speed etc. He was probably the one who made me realise there really was a world of music out there waiting to be discovered. And it was OK to like it.

I dipped in and out of Peels shows for many years, even latching on to the odd DJ he took under his wing, making it cool to like them too. David ‘Kid’ Jensen was one. He even appeared to drop the nickname when he became associated with Peel. Or was it the first name he ditched? It matters not. Andy Kershaw was another who became a firm favourite through his initial association with John Peel. And he had a broad Northern accent to go with his excellent taste in music. I’ll be forever grateful to Mr Kershaw for introducing me to the wondrous and joyful music of The Bhundu Boys.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vhtNe4DfEyo

I recorded John Peel’s Festive Fifty each year, wondering how many I might have bought during the course of the year.

http://peelplayer.com/#!/1982/10

It was like a barometer to my taste in music. I remember the Festive Fifty from 1988 very well, and not just because the music was particularly good that year. On this occasion I was listening to the show as I was recording it on my little tape deck. Part way through one of the shows a news bulletin came on- ‘We regret to announce there has been a tragic accident. An airplane has come down near the Scottish town of Lockerbie with the loss of many lives’. I was stunned, this was terrible news. I left the show recording and went to watch the news on the tv, hoping survivors would be found and the loss of life would be minimal.

The next morning, I took the tape from the machine and threw it in the car. I worked as a field based service engineer and spent much of my time driving around listening to music. I intended listening to the tape that day. For some unknown reason I didn’t. It was only about six months later, during the annual clearing out of the car, I came across the tape marked ‘JP Festive Fifty’. Setting off to my next job, I slipped the tape in. The music was good, the traffic was heavy. I remember being stuck in a jam when a news bulletin came on- ‘We regret to announce there has been a tragic accident. An airplane has come down near the Scottish town of Lockerbie….’

‘Oh my God, unbelievable’ I thought. ‘How unlucky- that’s the second time that’s happened’

A spit second, then it dawns- I’m listening to a recording! I feel pathetic thinking such a thing, the feeling made worse with me looking around at people in other cars, hoping they didn’t notice my moment of embarrassment. I never recorded another Festive Fifty.

I continued listening to the radio, but whether it’s a generational thing or not, when it comes to the greats of Radio 1 and 2 the likes of Peel, Kershaw, Annie Nightingale, Kid Jensen, Janice Long and Whispering Bob will always hold sway. Hang on though- there are some very listenable presenters (that’s what they are now, not DJ’s) on 6 Music. Even more so on local community radio stations all over the country, promoting great unsigned artists.

I guess all the above have had an effect on me. It’s a bit late in the day, but I’ve finally found something I could have made a career out of. Coming across new music and sharing it. Like Tom Skelly and his beachcomber folk/blues from the East Yorkshire coast. Or the classic indie rock styling’s of Moscow Circus (who haven’t even released their debut lp yet). Or Flux 32, a spiky punk/rock band hailing from the town I currently live in. Or Phil Jackson and his thoughtful reflections on life set to East Anglian country/folk. Or Rusty Boxx and their gorgeous harmonies and woozy melodies. Or the dreamy melancholia of Plantman. And there’s still all those unsung greats to share- The Distractions, Jackie Leven, Martin Stephenson (with or without The Daintees) etc. Blimey, I could go on.

And probably will on future blogs...

          Smelly Flowerpot

4th April 2014

[ohmercyrecords]

Champagne Taste... - Tony James Shevlin

It's time for more songs from Tony James Shevlin...the fourth track on the new album, Songs From the Last Chance Saloon, is a bluesy little stomper called 'Champagne taste on a lemonade pay'