Label / Cat. No: Music For Pleasure MFP 1266 First Released: 1968
What The Album Blurb Says…
Christmas is the most joyful festival of the Christian year, when we celebrate at the same time the turning point of the winter and the new hope that was brought to men with the birth of Jesus. Christmas is a time when we make up for the bleakness of the weather outside with the warmth of our spirits, and it is no coincidence that the songs which have come to be particularly associated with Christmas should be carols, which have always been the most cheerful and often the most secular of Christian songs.
On this record you find your favourite carols in an unfamiliar guise–we’ve called the album ‘Tijuana Christmas’, but you will find the mariachi sound taking on a richer and more varied flavour as the Toreo Band bring out the charms of our most beautiful carol tunes in imaginative brand new arrangements. ‘The Holly and the Ivy’ sets the pace with a bright, sparkling beat that even adds to the gaiety of one of our oldest and liveliest carols; ‘Silent Night’ a much more recent and a more devout carol, is given a quite contrasting treatment, slow and tender. ‘Hark, the Herald Angels Sing’ sets off again at a brisk, bouncy pace–and if you feel like dancing, why not? It may come as a surprise to you that our oldest carols used to be dances, and that the word itself described a form of circular dance.
In the preface to the Oxford book of carols you will find carols described as songs with a religious impulse that are simple, joyful, popular and modern. You’ll never have heard them sounding more joyful, popular or modern than they do on this exciting and original L.P.
BLASE MACHIN
What I Say
Christmas is a time for miracles, so they say, and the discovery of this album is another little miracle which may just find it’s place in the canon of Christmas Tales. You see, I was all ready to review a completely different album. Last January I picked up a copy of Mitch Miller’s ‘Holiday – Sing Along With Mitch’ which had a cover that both intrigued and terrified me. Look, surely that man must be Satan. There can be no other explanation. The picture on that album cover (here, go go look at it again) can only be a coded message. Mitch is wearing a ‘Santa’ hat. Santa is a well-known anagram of Satan. I think I’ve made my point.
Anyway, the point is that while researching a bit about Mitch, I realised that although he’s pretty much unknown in the UK, his profile in other parts of the world is significantly higher, and people might actually catch me out in the rubbish that I write here.
So it was a strange quirk of fate when last week I happened to be in a charity store, looking for something to put my TV on, when I noticed this album, Tijuana Christmas, staring at me from the record shelf. I can only assume that some enterprising shop-hand had tried to do a touch of seasonal promotion and put this on prominent display. Well, there was no choice, I had to buy it. Wouldn’t you?
But that’s not the miraculous part. Oh no!
When I got it home, and proudly showed it off to my wife, The Very Lovely Mrs. McDingo, she was delighted to inform me that this very album had been a significant part of her childhood. It seems that, when growing up, it was her family’s tradition on Christmas Eve to go out to the local woodland, find a tree, hack it down, take it home, and decorate it to the delightful strains of this album. Christmas Eve’s soundtrack in her childhood was this set of tunes.
It would therefore be churlish of me to be anything but lavish in my praise of this masterpiece of Mexican Musicala, surely? Hmmm…. well, as it’s the season of goodwill, I’m prepared to overlook the fact that the chances are that The Torero Band (whose name doesn’t even appear on the front of the album – it’s in smallish print on the back) have probably never been further south than Croydon. MFP, the label, boasts of it’s offices in Amsterdam, Brussels, Johannesburg, Cologne, London, Paris and Sydney. It has no offices, it would seem, anywhere on the American continent. Of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean that ‘The Torero Band’ is really a front for a bunch of session musicians from Welwyn Garden City, but I think you’d have a hard time proving me wrong.
And then, just this morning I was reading Bill Bryson’s The Lost Continent when I found this pertinent comment:-
It had never once occurred to me in thirty-six years of living that anyone listened to Mexican music for pleasure… there would be another song. Or rather, it would be the same song again, as far as I could tell. That is the unfortunate thing about Mexican musicians. They only seem to know one tune.
Which just about sums up the album. There is a clear formula to the songs – introduction, featuring the key melody line (or occasionally a variation thereupon), which lasts for four bars. Then the main tune comes in hitting with full Mariachi orchestration, playing the song with a strong swing beat with that distinctive raspy brass, sweep you along for 2 minutes, then start with the next song.
I’ve complained time and time again about the homogenisation of music on albums like this, but in this case it’s the overarching style that is the reason for the samey feel – of course the tunes all sound the same. That’s the whole point. It took me a while to understand that, but I think I’m there now!
But the real acid test came when I put this album on this morning to listen to it again. It was early – certainly before 7:30. I and two bleary eyed boys aged 6 and 4 were looking to start the day. The moment I put this album on, both the boys started dancing. Really grooving to the tunes, and of course, I couldn’t help but join them. So for once I followed the instructions on the front. And it was ace.
Merry Christmas to you all.
Tracks
Side 1
1. The Holly And The Ivy
2. Silent Night
3. Hark! The Herald Angels Sing
4. While Shepherds Watched
5. O Little Town Of Bethlehem
6. Good King Wenceslas
Side 2
1. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
2. Away In A Manger
3. The First Nowell
4. Christians Awake
5. Once In Royal David’s City
6. O, Come All Ye Faithful
No Soundclips this time. Oh no. You lucky people, you can download the whole album. Why not play this forgotten gem during your Christmas lunch, eh? Click HERE to download (38 Mb)
Label / Cat. No: Topic 12T150 First Released: 1966
What The Album Blurb Says…
Fred Jordan was born on January 5, 1922, at Ludlow, Shropshire. He is a farm labourer, living in the village of Aston Munslow, about seven miles from Ludlow. His house has a view of Corve Dale and the distant Clee Hills.
In 1952 Peter Kennedy, then working for the British Broadcasting Corporation, visited the area, and being told by the local blacksmith that Fred Jordan was a good singer, he recorded him for the BBC’s folk song archive. In the autumn of 1959, Fred attracted the attention of participants in the folk song revival when he appeared at the English Folk Dance and Song society’s festival wearing his everyday clothes – heavy boots, leggings and weather-defying hat. His singing drew immediate acclaim. Since then he has appeared with increasing regularity at concerts and clubs, with other country singers and also with revival performances. He enjoys concert and club work, where he sings with the straightforward ‘professionalism’ and unselfconsciousness common to most country singers.
As a folk singer he may be classed with the best – and that best includes Harry Cox, George Maynard and Phil Tanner. Though he is still a young man he has the essential style of this older generation. His musical sense is very highly developed; his ability to make small rhythmical changes to suit the words of songs is marked and his use of melodic ornament is subtle and skilful. the quality of his voice may seem strange at first hearing, but it is not unique, and there is nothing here of an old man’s quaver, for Fred Jordan is in his prime.
In performance, he inclines to let his personality retire behind the song, in the true manner of traditional singers. He sings without change of facial expression, without physical mannerism. He performs Barbara Allen and The Old Armchair in precisely the same manner, in the straight-faced almost deadpan way that amateur singers still adopt in town pubs where they stand up to give out with I’ll Take You home Again, Kathleen.
Fred Jordan acknowledges three main sources for his songs: first his parents (his mother came from Warwickshire, his father comes from Leeds); second the travellers and gypsies who frequent the district; last, his acquaintances in the countryside. In his own mind he distinguishes between what he now calls ‘proper folk songs’, music-hall songs, and the arranged versions of folk songs that he learned at school.
All the songs on this record are found up and down the country in one version or another. Many are to be found in the classic folk song collections. Others, of known authorship, the pops of yesteryear, have taken their place alongside traditional songs in the folk singers’ repertoire on their merits of narrative and melody. Some of these are American in origin. The music-hall and touring show all played their part in widening the popular repertoire, and radio and gramophone records have also had their effect. This record shows the mixture of song types in the repertoire of a country singer in the 1960’s.
What I Say
Some of you will have seen ‘The Green Green Grass’, the spin-off series from ‘Only Fools & Horses’. If you have caught this show, then you have my deepest sympathy. Really. The premise, for those of you who haven’t seen it, is that Boycie, a second-hand car salesman from Peckham in South London, moves to the Shropshire countryside to avoid some shady underworld types, and what follows is a fish-out-of-water “comedy”. For anyone who lives within 100 miles of Shropshire, the biggest mystery is why do all the Shropshire characters dress like they live in the 1930s and speak with yokel Somerset accents. I mean, just look…
…and listen
Sorry to have to put you through that, but it just isn’t Shropshire. But Fred Jordan, now he’s the real deal…
What an unexpected gem we have here. I chose this album from my pending pile because I have spent the last week working on a farm not 10 miles from the Shropshire border – barn building, labouring and general jobbing. I believe this makes me supremely qualified to look at an album by a fellow man of the soil. Well, to be fair, I didn’t get that close to any actual soil, but still, Fred Jordan must be singing the songs that speak to my heart, mustn’t he?
Well, yes and no…. the title is a touch misleading – these aren’t songs about Shropshire farm workers, or even songs that Shropshire farm workers in general would sing. Instead, it’s a collection of songs sung by one Shropshire farm worker, namely Mr Jordan. I won’t go into details of Fred’s life here, because there are some excellent biographies around – try here for starters if you want to know more about the Fredster.
The songs aren’t even all about farming or the bucolic life. At least two of them are nautical in flavour, and Shropshire’s pretty far from the sea at the best of times.
But that’s of not matter. I can honestly say that this is unique in all the albums I’ve listened to – what we have is Fred Jordan. Nothing more, nothing less. No musicians, no backing singers, no accompaniment whatsoever. This album stands or falls on Fred Jordan’s voice, and it stands.
It stands as a period piece, it stands as a collection of English folk tunes sung by someone steeped in the folk tradition, and it stands as a collection of tunes by an accomplished singer. True, there are some vocal mannerisms which sound curious to our pop-soaked ears, and the starkness of hearing a single voice cut the silence takes some getting used to. But that also summarises the character of this album. It is raw, stripped back, nothing but the singer and the song, and to my jaded ears it made a very refreshing change. I can’t say that this is going to be a recurrent favourite on my playlists, but unlike a lot of what I plough through (see what I did there?), I’m more than happy to give this a second listen. Maybe even a third.
In looking for details of this album on this wonderful internet of ours, I was amazed to find that the Topic record label not only still exists, but is a beacon of independent labels, having been releasing albums now for 69 years. Go and have a look at their site to find out more, but any label that boasted John Peel as a fan must have something going for it.
Lovely jubbly.
Sorry.
Tracks
Side 1
1. We Shepherds Are The Best Of Men
2. The ship That Never Returned
3. Down the Road
4. We’re All Jolly Fellows that Follow The Plough
5. The Watery Grave
6. The Dark-Eyed Sailor
7. Three Old Crows
Never did get round to trying to find a better name for you collectively…. Anyway, just to let you know I haven’t abandoned you. A combination of poorly computer and poorlier daughter led to an unexpected hiatus, but all will be kicked back into action very soon.
Just to tide you over, here’s a tune that makes you feel glad to be alive. It’s our old friend Mrs Mills, with ‘The Lambeth Walk’. Watch out for those spoons…
Label / Cat. No: Hallmark CHM 624 First Released: 1969
What The Album Blurb Says…
For those of you who are as yet unacquainted with the happy looking gentleman on the right, permit us to introduce you to Mr. Bob Blaine
Early biographical details can be found on the sleeve of his previous album ‘BOB BLAINE SINGS COUNTRY MUSIC FOR BEDTIME’ – Hallmark HM. 581. Suffice it therefore for us to say that he hails from Liverpool, has had years of experience with many name bands, and, as you will discover, he is a very fine singer.
Bob is considered by many people in the music business to be a walking encyclopeadia on standard songs and for this album he has personally selected the best, and most romantic of the songs of the Islands and just for good measure has thrown in three brand new ones that he wrote himself, including the title song ‘HAWAIIAN HONEYMOON.’
So if you want to escape the weather, the tax man, or anything else that bothers you, may we suggest you get the album, go home, slice a pineapple, light a sunlamp, turn on the record player, sit in your favourite chair, play the record, close your eyes and you’re off to Hawaii – Bon Voyage.
DON TODD
What I Say
Last time I admitted my ignorance regarding national musical exports, I managed to (quite understandably) ruffle a few Canadian feathers. As I pointed out at the time, any nation that gives us Celine Dion should surely face international sanctions. Anyway, I confess an equal lack of knowledge on the musical history of Hawaii, and shan’t compound my ignorance with ill-informed commentary…..
Oh, who am I kidding. That’s my stock-in-trade – ill informed opinion based on incomplete facts and minimal research. So, what do I know about Hawaiian music? Well, there’s the Ukelele, which isn’t what George Formby played (that was a hybrid between a ukelele and a banjo, and was quite seriously known as a banjolele. See, I do know some things….) Beyond that, I get stuck, although I did like that Israel Kamakawiwo’ole song they used in that advert.
And, er…. that’s about it I think. Except to say, I really don’t think that what we’re presented here bears much relation to real Hawaiian music. Not least because it’s been recorded by some Scouser who’s probably never been further west than Llandudno. To my uneducated ears, it sounds like a series of slow tempo Country Music songs with a bit of ukelele and slide guitar stuck in the mix for good measure. I’m prepared to accept that this might be the genuine Hawaiian sound, but I seriously doubt it.
The songs really do all sound the same – same tempo, same arrangements, more or less the same melody, with just a couple of exceptions. “Black Is The Colour Of My True Loves Hair”, despite sounding like a Donovan lyric is quite a dark, moody piece, clearly showing the harder side of our Scally Bob.
The second slightly odd song on an album called Hawaiian Honeymoon is ‘Flower of Tahiti’. I had to go and check on Google Earth, but I’m right. Tahiti really isn’t anywhere near Hawaii. But hey, those South Sea Islands are all the same, aren’t they….?
In 1969 Merseyside, Hawaii, and indeed Tahiti, must’ve seemed endlessly exotic, and they were therefore prepared to accept any old tat with a Hawaiian tag just to get themselves a taste of the islands. But knowledge of other cultures was a little more…. basic than perhaps it is today (anybody for My Boomerang Won’t Come Back? Anybody….). I’m sure the English record buying public were prepared to believe that this light country froth really was the sound of the islands.
And clearly Hawaii is synonymous with romance, lust and dusky maidens if the cover’s anything to go buy. Despite the title track being about the romance and special nature of taking your new bride to Hawaii, the cover depicts a new bride in a revealing negligee, clutching a book called ‘Honeymoon Hints’, looking shocked because her husband has lured four Hawaiian beauties to the boudoir using only his Ronco Slide Guitar. Looking shocked and mildly put out is probably the best reaction he could have hoped for – I’m pretty sure if I’d lured four dusky maidens to the bedchamber on my honeymoon I wouldn’t be a father of three now…
All in all this is a bit of a wallpaper album. It’s so gentle it just washes over you so that you almost don’t notice, like a warm breeze in Waikiki. Not that I’ve been to Waikiki, but I have been to Llandudno.
Finally, there’s not much out there about ol’ Bob Blaine. In fact I could find nothing, which is strange considering how he’d worked with many ‘name bands’. I do wonder why, if they’re so famous, why didn’t they tell us exactly who Bob had been working with. However, in my trawl of the internet (or quick search for those of you who prefer accuracy), I found out that you almost certainly don’t want to go and Google “Bob Blaine” +singer, and look at the top result. That’s not our Bob Blaine, and that’s definitely not Hawaii, no sir. Seriously NSFW.
And this is how to do it right:-
And this is a bit of banjolele for you good people.
Label / Cat. No: Golden Hour (Pye) GH511 First Released: This Compilation 1970
What The Album Blurb Says…
John Schroeder, the brilliant young producer and creator of Sounds Orchestral has come a long way since 1962, the year that first saw him thinking about a musical concept that sprang to triumphant fruition three years later when “Cast your fate to the wind” sets Sounds on the international chart trail.
But while the years since have been filled with hit sounds for a multitude of artists, Sounds Orchestral continues to occupy a very special place in John’s affections. For time and again, in the company of those other Sounds Orchestral veterans, Johnny Pearson and engineer Ray Prickett, John Schroeder returns to the studios to make fresh albums, yet albums that still retain the ingredients that keeps Sounds Orchestral a best-seller all over the world.
This, his latest contribution to the Sounds success story starts, appropriately enough with the Vince Guaraldi classic that began it all. But complementing it are a string of familiar and enduring melodies that have found their way into many hit parades and into the affections of millions of people. Johnny Pearson has arranged them with the brand of perfection that has become his trademark and because the musical performances that graces them maintains the Sounds Orchestral formula, the result is sheer enjoyment for anyone who loves good music.
Arranged, Conducted by, and featuring the Piano of, Johnny Pearson
Produced by John Schroeder
Engineer: Ray Prickett
What I Say
When I was a sweet young thing of 13, I recorded a copy of ‘Waiting’ by Fun Boy Three from one of my sisters friends. Shhh, yes, I know, home taping is killing music. It’s a great album, and one I still own. But my over-riding memory is that it managed to fit on one side of a C60 tape, all except for the last word of the last song (’that’ of ‘well fancy that’). If I’d bothered, I probably could have edited out the silence with judicial use of the pause button and made up those few precious moments to allow the final song in its entirety to fit on the tape. As it was, I didn’t bother, and I quite liked the way the album just hung in the air, not quite resolved.
The point in all this reminiscing is that clearly the album, if it could fit on one side of a C60 only really lasted about 30 minutes. Pretty short for albums which in those days, you’d reckon to get on one side of a C90. 45 minutes was pretty much the norm until CDs came along and stretched things out. So to have an album with a guaranteed ‘Golden Hour’ of music would’ve been quite a bargain. Mind you, you’re not getting any more than that. This album runs to 1 hour, 1 minute and 13 seconds. That’s about as close as you can get, though I wouldn’t set your watch by it. Well, I might set your watch by it, but not mine.
I have to tackle the cover. I can understand that with the butterflies, the fish and the logs / rocks you’re getting a pretty literal depiction of ‘The Earth, The Sea & The Sky’, but whoever thought it would be a winning formula to stick a dead fish on the front of an album cover really needs to go back to marketing school. I grew up believing that album art was something to treasure. That in some cases, the cover was as important as the contents, that together they produced the whole experience intended by the artist. That may be because I listened to a lot of Prog Rock (I know, I know…) and they tended to go for the overblown, pompous, album cover.
But it was all part of the experience, listening to the album, poring over the cover art, looking for clues, for details, for messages. An hour spent looking at a picture of a couple of dead fish might push some people over the edge, however great the music is.
And the music isn’t great. It’s competent. It’s nicely arranged, but it does nothing new. It falls between two stools like so many of its contemporaries – It won’t radically change the arrangements of the music because the target market need nice, recognisable tunes that they can tap their toes to. So the arrangements aren’t particularly bold or exciting. But equally, they don’t have the full Orchestral sweep that would put them firmly into that realm. In fact, I wonder who on earth came up with the name ‘Sounds Orchestral’. It sounds like a jazz trio plus a violin or two when the budget allowed. That it took John Schroeder three years from having the idea to making ‘Sounds Orchestral’ a reality makes you think that he spent that time building the foundations of something special. I suspect he didn’t leave himself enough time to come up with that winning idea. That, or he just got distracted for a couple of years building a scale model of York Minster out of matchsticks and Jaffa Cake packets.
I’m afraid that this is all fairly generic stuff. Nothing in particular stands out (except for the drummer – he must’ve been sleeping with the Engineer to have got placed so high in the mix. That is of course a joke, and I’m not implying anything of the sort…..) Anyway, where was I… Oh yes. I don’t expect innovation on every album I listen to, but if I could just find a spark of something interesting, something new or different then I would look far more kindly on this kind of album. But I really can’t here, no matter how I try.
The saving grace however is that it does have a copy of ‘Good Morning Starshine’ on it. I don’t think you can ever top the Original Cast sound recording of that particular song, but it’s always good to hear any version of a song that has the following lyrics:-
Gliddy glub gloopy
Nibby nabby noopy
La la la lo lo
Sabba sibby sabba
Nooby abba nabba
Le le lo lo
Tooby ooby walla
Nooby abba naba
Early morning singing song
Label / Cat. No: EMI DUO130 First Released: This Compilation 1981
What The Album Blurb Says…
HARRY MORTIMER’S name is synonymous with brass bands. He is the outstanding figure of the brass band world and surely its most devoted servant. Universally known as “the man of brass”.
His long career as soloist, teacher, adjudicator, administrator and conductor is one of the outstanding chapters in the story of brass band music in our time.
They start young in the brass band movement and Harry Mortimer’s career began at the tender age of eight when he learned to play the cornet in the Yorkshire town of Hebden Bridge where his father, the redoubtable Fred Mortimer, was the conductor of the local band.
He won his first medal at the age of 9 and soon became recognised as something of an infant prodigy on the cornet, collecting, so it is said, some 350 medals and cups before he reached his teens.
He was only 14 when he became the conductor of a junior band, leading them to the 3rd prize in a local contest at his first entry into the competition field.
When the family moved south to Luton, Harry found himself playing in the Luton Red Cross Band of which his father had just become conductor. As a very small boy he played with them in the national brass band championship and made up for his lack of inches by standing on a ginger beer box! Later he was to become the band’s solo cornet.
it was at Luton that the young Harry Mortimer, while still a schoolboy, had his first experience of another side of the world of music…playing in the orchestra of the local theatre.
In 1924 Harry joined the ranks of Foden’s Motor Works Band as solo cornet when his father took over the direction of that already noted band whose name he was to make world famous. He stayed with Foden’s until 1942.
The opening of “the Mortimer years” at Foden’s marked the beginning of a new era in brass band history and technique. It also marked the effective opening of Harry Mortimer’s long and distinguished career in the world of music and that of the brass band in particular. What had gone before had been but prelude to his later career and achievements.
It was then that he began to gain experience in a wider sphere of music making. For some years he led a “double life” playing in both brass bands and symphony orchestras. He was principal trumpet of the Halle and Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestras from 1930 to 1941, holding a similar position for some years with the B.B.C. Northern Orchestra, and somehow contriving to find time to fill the position of Professor of Trumpet at the Royal Manchester College of Music from 1936 to 1940.
Further opportunities presented themselves when, in 1942, he joined the B.B.C. as brass and military band supervisor, a post which he held until his retirement from the B.B.C. some twenty years later.
It was a period in which, thanks to Harry’s drive and flair, brass and military band music acquired a new significance in broadcasting programmes, coupled with a great increase in the weekly output of band broadcasts. As someone said at the time Harry Mortimer achieved more for the band movement in ten years than others had contrived throughout the history of broadcasting.
It was then that he sought to forge links between the world of brass bands and “the musical establishment”, attracting the interest of conductors like Sir Malcolm Sargent and Sir Adrian Boult and of composers like Granville Bantock and Sir Arthur Bliss. Some notable original compositions resulted.
During those years at the B.B.C. Harry Mortimer began to organise concerts by massed bands, brass orchestras in effect, which were the forerunners of his celebrated “Men O’Brass”, securing the interest and co-operation of celebrated conductors amongst them Boult, Sargent and Wood.
He also embarked upon a further and brilliantly successful phase of his career at that time as a conductor in the highly competitive sphere of brass band contests. In this he was destined to surpass even his father’s remarkable earlier achievement, securing no less than nine victories in the National Band Championship at the Royal Albert Hall and another nine victories in the famous Open British Band Championship at Belle Vue, Manchester.
Crowned with success he gave up contesting in 1956 and went off to Australia as Adjudicator of an important series of brass band contests there.
Speaking of his decision to retire from the field of brass band contests he once said “it was rather like being a jockey with five horses”. He still continued until 1970 as Musical Director of the Fairey Band which he had led to so many successes and continues his direction of the Morris Concert Band which he has now conducted since its inception more than 30 years ago.
In the post war years Harry Mortiner (sic) emerged as a national figure, rewarded with the O.B.E. for his services to music and acclaimed for his success as a conductor, in the concert hall, on records or in broadcast brass band programmes and in particular for his direction of that most successful band combination, the “Men O’Brass”.
Behind the skill and the flair which mark his performances lies the evidence of years of experience, the autumnal flowering of musicianship and of artistic experiences gleaned in during early days in the band room, on the concert platform and at the feet of some of the world’s most famous conductors.
“I shall never retire,” Harry Mortimer once said and today, as he nears his eightieth year, he is still active, conducting, recording, broadcasting; prominent in administrative problems of the brass band world fulfilling a busy round of engagements here or abroad with time in seemingly ineffectual pursuit. Long may he continue.
HARRY MORTIMER – CORNET VIRTUOSO
Harry Mortimer’s almost legendary reputation as a virtuoso performer upon the cornet rests not simply upon his surpassing technique but also upon the distinctive quality of singing tone which he commanded and the sensitivity and artistry which marked his playing. His influence was widely felt and extended into the playing of a new generation of performers.
The quality of his tone excited critical comment, sometimes from critics who made no secret of their lack of interest in the brass band and its music but were quick to recognise the unique quality of tone and expression which he brought to solos and solo passages alike.
“Harry does not play, he sings! We hear sometimes of persons making an instrument talk, that is just what Harry does”, a critic of much experience asserted.
While a respected Northern critic wrote – “Harry Mortimer playing the solo with a beauty and steadiness of tone which most singers might envy” and another performance drew the comment “then there was Mr Harry Mortimer performing incredible feats of agility in “Il Bacio”, a coloratura soprano song which no coloratura soprano sings with such smoothness, brilliance or firmness of tone and accuracy of intonation”, adding “she may give us one or even two of these qualities but not all four at once!”
Harry’s playing, captured in all its brilliance and beguiling tone quality on EMI records, is recalled for us in an historical sequence of performances of justly famous cornet solos on the two sides of the first of the two records in this album.
If there really are only six cornet solos as someone once facetiously suggested (an opinion calculated to provoke discussion in band room or bar) then the half-dozen indisputable classic solos for the cornet must surely appear amongst the near definitive performance on this record of original pieces or arrangements which every aspiring cornet soloist must command.
ALPINE ECHOES by Basil Windsor (pseudonym of Eli Smith, music teacher and a noted figure in band circles in the North) with Harry using his echo cornet adding to the effects of an incredibly taxing but colourful piece.
Thomas Lear’s brilliant SHYLOCK with its polka rhythm and Percy Code’s ZELDA together with one of the earliest of the enduring classics for the cornet in HAILSTORM by William Rimmer, one of the key figures in brass band history and friend and mentor of Harry Mortimer as he was of Harry’s father. Its effect upon an audience at the hands of an accomplished performer is easily predictable, the result certain. “What’s the encore, Charlie?”, asked a once famous player before rising to perform “Hailstorm”.
No less irresistible in its seemingly timeless appeal is Arditi’s evergreen IL BACIO in Arban’s effective arrangement. Another attractive arrangement of a familiar melody is that by Henry Gheel of RICHMOND HILL, one of the earliest recordings in this collection which has, unusually, an accompaniment by a recording studio orchestra.
Cornet duets have always featured in brass band programmes and Harry is joined by Jack Mackintosh, a noted contemporary of his early days. in MAC AND MORT which Harry composed for the duo to play, and the well loved THE SWALLOW’S SERENADE.
The second side of the record contains two further examples of Harry Mortimer’s versatility in the strains of the post horn heard in the course of a Hunting Medley played by Foden’s Band and, of more artistic significance, an impressive performance of the solo role in Haydn’s TRUMPET CONCERTO in E flat with the Philharmonia Orchestra conducted by the late George Weldon. The record also provides a fascinating reminder of the unique quality of tone, clarity of detail and the wonderful ensemble, rich in individual talent, which characterised the playing of Foden’s Band in its heyday under Fred Mortimer.
HARRY MORTIMER – CONDUCTOR
Harry Mortimer’s transition from instrumentalist to conductor was possibly less a conscious decision than a gradual and inevitable progress.
It began with those ‘prentice efforts as a teenager conducting a junior band and continued throughout the years of his brilliant career as a soloist. His services were always in demand by ambitious or struggling bands anxiously seeking specialist training or a “polish” upon their performance of a test piece for some local contest.
Further experience came in his role as Bandmaster of Foden’s, occasionally deputising for his father.
When he finally relinquished the cornet for the baton he was superbly equipped by training and experience for his new role.
His unequalled succession of contest successes with famous bands, like Black Dyke, Fairey and others, proclaimed his mastery of the medium.
To his undoubted flair as a conductor, his authority and wide musicianship which no doubt owed something to his orchestral experiences, was added that indefinable “star quality” which had always been apparent in his performances as a soloist.
His career was soon to take a new course with his promotion and direction of an expanding series of massed band concerts.
It arose from his recognition that a wider range of music and higher standards of presentation were necessary if the brass band movement was to meet the challenge presented by the great changes which had come about in public entertainment in the early post war years and in particular the growth of competition from radio and television.
His experience in the organisation and direction of performances by massed bands for broadcasting or public concerts in the later years of the war and early post war years, often featuring guest conductors of distinction, convinced him of the possibility as an entertainment medium of such a combination.
In 1952 he launched the now celebrated ALL-STAR BRASS some 50 strong with personnel specially chosen from the principal brass bands in this country. It was an immediate success. It was in a effect (sic) a “brass orchestra” of highly talented instrumentalists, intensively rehearsed by Harry Mortimer and utilising a number of specially commissioned arrangements.
It was featured in a notable series of EMI records and a taste of the superb quality of the band is provided by their performance of the suite KENILWORTH by Sir Arthur Bliss, one of the classics of brass band literature, recorded in 1960 which appears on side 2 of the second record of this album.
Practical considerations precluded an expansion of the concert activities of the ALL-STAR BRASS, and to meet the demand which had arisen from concert promoters and audiences alike Harry Mortimer established the famous MEN O’BRASS with the combined bands of Fairey, Foden’s and Morris Motors who, with occasional variations in the combination, achieved a wide popularity on the concert platform and on records in the years that followed their inaugural appearance in 1953.
A representative selection of recordings made by MEN O’BRASS and other massed band combinations directed by Harry Mortimer featured in the second record provides an impressive demonstration of the unsurpassable brilliance of the playing and the wide range of sonorities lavished upon music stirring, solemn or beguiling, from the OPENING FANFARE by George Hespe which Men O’Brass, adopted as their signature tune for recording and broadcasting, to the crescendo of excitement provided by the GALOP & FINALE from the WILLIAM TELL OVERTURE.
Amongst the wide range of music featured is arresting sound of BLAZON with Gilbert Vinter’s highly original writing for brass in this musical evocation of the sound of Biblical trumpets as prelude to his cantata for brass and voices. Wagner’s RIDE OF THE VALKYRIES acquires added power in the arrangement for brass bands, and the precision and phrasing which marks the performance of Rossini’s BARBER OF SEVILLE OVERTURE is contrasted by the refinement of tone and expression brought to MacDowell’s TO A WIDE ROSE and Grieg’s elegiac SPRING, while Bach’s JESU JOY OF MAN’S DESIRING in which the bands are joined by the organ splendidly captures the devotional atmosphere of a great Cathedral.
A taste of the quality of some of the soloists of the bands is provided by the performance by PHILIP McCANN, then with the Fairey Band of the well known solo JENNY WREN and that by GWYN DAVIES of the Morris Band of the popular “THE SHEPHERD’S SONG”.
This unique compilation of EMI recordings will provide a lasting reminder of the achievements of Harry Mortimer as the outstanding cornet and trumpet soloist of his generation and pre-eminent conductor of some of the famous bands with which he has been associated during his long and distinguished career of service to music and the brass band movement.
Jack Oliver
Harry Mortimer On Brass published by Alphabooks, Sherborne, Dorset.
What I Say
I think we need to talk about the blurb for a bit. Did you read all of it? No? I’m not surprised. Bit much really. I think it’s fair to say that the author, Jack Oliver was given a brief to fill out the inner sleeve of a gatefold album, and he has done so. However, apart from the tedious repetition of how great Harry was and how fantastic the EMI recordings of his work are, one thing becomes painfully obvious. As we go on and on, the grammar becomes more and more tortured. Allow me to give you an example from the final quarter of the blurb:-
It was featured in a notable series of EMI records and a taste of the superb quality of the band is provided by their performance of the suite KENILWORTH by Sir Arthur Bliss, one of the classics of brass band literature, recorded in 1960 which appears on side 2 of the second record of this album.
I suspect that the deadline came round a bit quick for Mr Oliver, and he found himself the night before, hunched over his typewriter, desperate to fill the blank page before him. It started well enough, but as the night wore on, and our Jack started to tire, the language got more and more tortured.
But, bless him, he managed it, and he even used the UNEXPECTED CAPITALS trick that I’m so fond of. It works particularly well when confronted with things like “ALL-STAR BRASS”, making it seem exotic, exciting and mysterious…!
But we can easily sum up this massive amount of blurb in the following way.
Harry Mortimer played the cornet. He started playing in his Dad’s band, and continued to play in his Dad’s band in an example of crass nepotism. He could hold a tune, better than most, and played in both brass bands and orchestras. He kept busy, had a job with the BBC for a while, and helped to popularise brass band music in the post war years. He organised the odd extravaganza like “MEN O’BRASS” where his maxim was clearly more is more, and he chucked together all the bands he worked with so that there was a big crowd of blokes playing brass instruments instead of a small crowd. Here are some recordings. They were made by EMI. Enjoy. Oh, and he also did a bit of conducting on the side.
See. That wasn’t too hard was it. But no, instead we had to have Jack Bloody Oliver going on and on about ‘Harry Mortimer’ always bloody ‘Harry Mortimer’, never just Harry, or Mr Mortimer, or even Hazza. No. I shan’t let it get to me. But really…
So, where was I? Oh yes, Brass Band music. It seems, as it goes, Harry Mortimer was a bit of a fan, and that’s fair enough. But I’m not. I’m afraid I was put off by my next door neighbour, James Hearn. When we were children, he would practise his bloody trumpet every Saturday morning, without fail, starting at 9 o’clock and going on for a couple of hours. Yes, exactly. Prime Tiswas time, ruined by a trumpet. To be fair, it wasn’t his fault, and he was very good at it (or at least, he became very good at it, though not as good as Hazza, of course…), but that put me off brass as a whole.
Therefore, I’m not really in a very good position to tell you whether this is a good brass album or not. It certainly seems very… professional. There’s lots of brass, a few tunes we know, and plenty we don’t. So I’m going to have to take the middle ground here and just say it’s OK.
And what have we learnt?
Well….. firstly, that Brass Bands all appear to have double entendre names like ‘Black Dyke’ and ‘Fairey’.
Secondly, there is (or at least was) a whole thriving brass band community, one that probably was damaged irrevocably by the closure of the mines in the 80s. Which reminds me – if anyone out there hasn’t seen Brassed Off, they probably should.
Thirdly, there was a composer called ‘Granville Bantock’. I wish I’d called my child Granville Bantock. I promise that if I ever get a dog, that’s what I shall call it. And he was a fine looking fellow too. Proper beard – the works…
Fourthly, you can go a long way if your Dad’s leader of the band.
And finally, Harry Mortimer, the ‘Man Of Brass’ himself does indeed look like a cleaned up version of Father Jack Hackett
Oh, and of course, I couldn’t leave an entry on Brass Bands without this now, could I….?
Tracks
Side 1
1. Overture: ZAMPA
2. MAC AND MORT
3. RICHMOND HILL
4. Polka Brillante: SHYLOCK
5. ALPINE ECHOES
6. IL BACIO
7. CHAMPION MEDLEY MARCH No. 3
Side 2
1. TRUMPET CONCERTO IN E FLAT
2. ZELDA
3. HAILSTORM
4. THE SWALLOWS SERENADE
5. A HUNTING MEDLEY
Side 3
1. OPENING FANFARE
2. THE THREE TRUMPETERS
3. Suite: KENILWORTH
4. JENNY WREN
5. THE SHEPHERD’S SONG
6. THE LOST CHORD
7. RADETSKY MARCH
Label / Cat. No: Parlophone PMC 1160 First Released: 1961
What The Album Blurb Says…
Fairly bursting with confidence and talent are Elaine and Derek Thompson, the thirteen-year-old twins from Belfast, who have been busy lately making a name for themselves with their records and television appearances.
Born on October 23, 1948, Derek is ten minutes older than Elaine – “and very proud of the fact,” says his mother. They both attend Belfast Modern School where everyone is very excited about their popularity and success: it appears that the only two calm people in the school are Elaine and Derek themselves!
“We’ve been singing since we were six years old,” says Elaine, who always takes charge of the situation, “at socials, parties and charity concerts, so I think this is why we don’t feel nervous about singing before large audiences and in recording studios. It’s Mum and Dad who suffer for us while we just get very excited. We don’t sing rock ‘n’ roll, but we enjoy listening to it – it amuses us. Gene Vincent is one of our favourite performers; we like the way he flings himself around the microphone on stage!”
At school the twins’ favourite subjects are French and algebra. They are not madly keen on sport, and all their spare time is taken up with singing. In fact they allow themselves little or no time to enjoy the hobbies and amusements that children usually like.
The twins were introduced to promoter Phil Raymond by a friend, when they were singing at a party one evening,. Raymond liked their voices and within a short time he booked them to appear at the Belfast Opera House with Gene Vincent and Emile Ford.
Recording manager Norman Newell was told about tht twins and flew to Belfast to hear them, with the result that they travelled to London and the E.M.I. studios to record their first disc for Parlophone Records – One Little Robin and Brahms’ Lullaby (45-R4783). This proved so popular that before long they returned to cut another single – Bluebird, coupled with Wooden Heart (45-R4829) – and this delightful LP of twelve children’s hymns, to the sensitive accompaniment of Michael Collins and his Orchestra.
What I Say
Hmmmm…. this album is rather like an onion. It has so many layers, and there’s something new to discover underneath, but all the layers are really the same, and it makes me cry when you cut it up, and it makes a delicious base for most savoury meals. OK, so I didn’t think out my metaphor very well before I started, but this album holds a few surprises, which aren’t at first apparent.
For example, as is my practice, I chose the album on the qualities of its cover alone. Although first released in 1961, the influence of the 50s is still clear to see, from the typeface used on their names, to the formal outfits and hairdos of the twins. Dereks frilly fronted shirt and hand-made slacks (see, always the slacks) provide a formal accompaniment to his sisters frilly, fussy party dress with faux-pearl buttons and sewn on corsage.
What I didn’t know when I picked up the album is that this is full of Children’s hymns. Twelve songs that are supposed to uplift and convince children of the glory of god. But is it really aimed for children? I have a sneaking suspicion that the market for this kind of album is the grannies of this world. I have a clear image of a grey haired granny settling down in her favourite armchair to listen to ‘those wonderful Irish children’ sing about Jesus. And it must’ve been a comfort, for in 1961 when this record was released, rock ‘n’ roll was shaking the foundations, but just so long as teenagers were singing about Jesus and not girls and cars, then there was hope for the future.
And this album has been well loved. Unlike most of the records that I pick up which are in pristine condition, this is worn and scratched, with jumps, pops and hisses all over it. Someone has played this album over and over again. Either that, or they hated it so much they’ve used it as a dinner plate…. but I’m sticking with my doting Granny theory.
I’m also surprised at how happy they both seem to be. If you’d asked me at thirteen to stand next to my sister to have my photo taken, let alone smile, or – horror of horrors – touch her, I would have sulked and made the most unattractive of photographs. But here we have true professionals. They both look happy, relaxed, almost like they like each other. That’s not normal in a teenager, is it?
Now, I know in my review of The Kaye Family that I suggested that there was something weird about families playing together, (although I did qualify that about it being weird across the generations), but there is one clear benefit of families singing together. I’ve heard it suggested that the reason why the Beach Boys, the Proclaimers and the Bee Gees do harmony so well, is because that they have similar physical vocal structures, as well as similar accents and similar tonality to their voices. Because they’ve grown up in the same environment, their voices sound very similar, and you end up with harmony not just of notes, but also of tone. (I am of course bluffing here, but don’t tell anyone…) The same applies here – the songs sound sweet because the two voices compliment each other very well.
That’s another thing. In a world where we are so used to our child stars being brash to the point of obnoxious, precocious and schmaltzy, the gentle sweetness of these two is quite refreshing. It’s not my kind of music at all, either in subject matter or musical style, but there is something very calming and gentle about the way they sing together which is unexpectedly lovely.
Derek tends to sing the lower parts (unsurprisingly) with a fairly linear melody, while Elaine tackles the more complex melody lines. It’s a traditional arrangement, but it works here. The songs I’ve picked for the clips are all much of a much – I just chose the ones I knew – there isn’t a great amount of variety in this album, it must be said.
I wonder how annoyed Derek was though, that although he is chronologically and alphabetically first, that his name came second in the billing. That must’ve hurt, though it does say clearly on the sleeve notes that Elaine is in charge. I wonder if she made that business decision.
But who’s laughing now, eh? For while Elaine has subsided into obscurity (I say that like I know – for all I know, Elaine could be a major star under another name….) Derek, the mighty Derek of Elaine and Derek grew up to be one of England’s favourite TV stars.
Yes, this was the biggest surprise that this album yielded for me. When I started doing my ‘research’ (assuming a bit of googling can be counted as research) for this album, I discovered that this album’s Derek is none other than…..
1. There’s A Friend For Little Children
2. O What Can Little Hands Do
3. When Mother Of Salem
4.How Great Thou Art
5. Standing Somewhere In Life’s Shadows
6.Jesus Loves Me
Label / Cat. No: Columbia – STWO 2 First Released: 1968
What The Album Blurb Says…
THE BREAKTHROUGH TO THE EXCITING WORLD OF STEREO SOUND.
A further selection of tracks from the spectacular and exciting Studio Two catalogue…. each one chosen to highlight the variety of repertoire and stereo sound quality; together forming a highly entertaining album that will be appreciated by all listeners….
What I Say
I’m big enough to admit when I’m wrong. And I’m wrong. You see, I had always assumed that these albums that were released to demonstrate the exciting new world of Stereo Sound would use the new technology in a clumsy and naive way. I had got it into my head that we would be working with extremes of stereo, like ‘Now I’m Here’ by Queen, the sound engineer throwing the balance left then right then back again, so it felt to the listener like he was being assaulted on all sides.
And I was wrong. ‘Impact’, or IMPACT to give it its correct title (you should’ve learned by now, I’m a sucker for capitalised words), is a far more subtle and entertaining beast. The stereo mix is in no way extreme and is in fact rather delicate.
I love the impression you get that every artiste had their own Orchestra, or at the least, a group of musicians to do their bidding. There’s a big difference between Cliff Richard and The Shadows, and Ron Goodwin and His Orchestra. Every man (for they are indeed men) on this album has his own back up set of musicians, except for poor Jack Emblow, who, tagged on at the end even has to have his instrument noted by his name. Is he such a poor accordion player that we need to be told which instrument it is that he’s mangling? How much further would Jack Emblow’s career gone if he’d had an Orchestra of his own? We shall never know now.
And what names to conjour with. Why wasn’t I named ‘Norrie Paramor’, ‘Pepe Jaramillo’ or even ‘Basil Henriques’? You just don’t get names like that any more. Or if you do, they don’t seem to be showing up on my radar…. which is hardly surprising seeing as I’m based in a small market town near the border with Wales…. but I digress. These are SERIOUS names. Names to reckon with. And, as if Acker Bilk wasn’t in itself a name to rise above the average, he then insists on being addressed as Mr. Acker Bilk. How cool is that? Sir, I salute you.
The music on the album is also top notch – mind you, with that many orchestras in attendance, you’d bloody hope so. But when an album starts with the slide trombone of ‘The Stripper’, you’re in for a real treat. There are no duds here, though I’m not entirely sold on the cover of ‘The Fool On The Hill’. Too soon I think, chaps. Furthermore, when you listen to ‘Legend of the Glass Mountain’, you just know it’s a film soundtrack in the good old tradition. There was no need to add “(Theme from film)” after the title. It screams movie at you from each and every honey-draped string.
But the very greatest treat on this record is the tune ‘Wheels’, performed here by Joe Loss And His Orchestra. I will wager that most of you will look at that and think ‘Wheels? I don’t know that one’. Listen to it. You know it, oh yes, you know it well.
Label / Cat. No: Marble Arch MAL 638 First Released: 1966
What The Album Blurb Says…
None. Which is a shame. I’d like to know more about Joe Henderson. And his friends.
What I Say
The Electric Guitar was invented, almost certainly in the 1920s. The first known performance using one is recorded as being in 1932. That’s 34 years before Joe “Mr. Piano” Henderson (as he indeed is known) recorded this album. In the intervening 34 years, Rock ‘n’ Roll had been invented, Elvis, the Stones and the Beatles had all come and made their mark. So why do we find ourselves in 1966 still making and producing this piano-led drivel?
Don’t get me wrong. I like a nice bit of piano. Keane have made a virtue of using one instead of electric guitars, and I am indeed in my own small way a very amateurish pianist. But surely even in 1966 this was annoying, trite, banal, undemanding pap. Surely.
I suppose I’m from an era that spawned Prog Rock, Punk, New Wave etc. etc. We can see the rapid progression of musical tastes and styles, feeling the evolution of one form into another. Maybe fads change more quickly now, and we constantly expect the new, the different and the exciting. Was there really a time when people just liked one kind of music and stuck with it? I suppose there must’ve been – Country music has very dedicated fans who won’t listen to anything outside of their narrow genre. Metal heads are equally unwilling to take off the blinkers.
But what surprises me the most is not just that it’s the same style of music which seems to keep cropping up over and over again, it’s the fact that it’s also the same bloody songs. Why would anyone, even in 1966 need another recording of ‘On Top Of Old Smokey’, ‘Hole In the Bucket’, or even ‘Hello Dolly’.
And Joe, or simply ‘Mr Piano’ as I shall refer to him from here-on-in is clearly not without talent. For a start he was the best selling artist (record and sheet music sales) of 1958 with a song, Trudie, which also won an Ivor Novello award. This man, Mr. Piano can write and play. He also got to snog Petula Clark which even in my youthful opinion can’t have been a bad thing. So my question remains, why waste such a clear talent on derivative crap? It’s such a waste.
Joe’s ‘Friends’ (who I sneakily suspect are session singers) provide the kind of group singing not head since the heady days of The Brian Rogers Connection on 3-2-1. I’m not sure if it’s the same ‘friends’ who adorn the cover, but you’ll notice that Mr. Piano seems to have significantly more female friends than male, by a ratio of 5:1. The sly old dog. There he is, knocking one out (a tune, of course) while smiling broadly at the winsome girl in the islands sweater. He knows how to impress the ladies. After all, he’s Mr. Piano. Though I wonder if anyone could explain to me why there’s a strange orange soft toy splodged on the end of the piano…
You may have guessed by now that I’m not too keen on this. It’s just…. joyless I suppose. Formulaic, singing to the choirstalls. I can’t claim Mr. Piano sold out, but he’s clearly providing a product that he knows there’s a market for. I shouldn’t judge a 1966 album by 2007 standards (even if Sgt. Peppers was 1967 and stands up reasonably well to critical appraisal). But if I wasn’t so thoroughly judgemental, we wouldn’t have this journal now, would we.
Tracks
Side 1
1. Hold Me
2.Everybody Loves Somebody
3. I Love You Because
4. Together
5. I Wouldn’t Trade You For The World
6.Near You
7. I Won’t Forget You
8. Hello Dolly (from the Mus. Prod. “Hello Dolly”)
Side 2
1. The More We Are Together
2. Nice People
3. Who (from “Sunny)
4.On Top Of Old Smokey
5. Heartbreaker
6. Glad Rag Doll
7. Who’s Sorry Now
8. Hole In the Bucket
9. Heart (from “Damn Yankees”)
10. Heartaches
11. Heart Of My Heart
12. Ay, Ay, Ay
13. After The Ball
14. Goodnight Ladies
15.The Band Played On
16. So Long, It’s Been Good To Know You
Label / Cat. No: EMI Music For Pleasure MFP 1276 First Released: This compilation 1968
What The Album Blurb Says…
Paddy Roberts is a large man with a quiet voice and a gentle manner that belie his ironic but dangerously sharp sense of humour. In his time he’s been a divorce lawyer, a club pianist, an airline pilot and a ’song plugger’, but we all know him now as the singer, in a voice with an appealing tendency to go off-key, or some of the wittiest and wickedest songs ever to entrench themselves in the hit parade.
Born in a remote part of South Africa in the year the King Edwared VII died, Paddy was sent to England for his schooling, but returned to South Africa where after graduating he took up a law practice, “making a speciality of undefended divoce cases”. But he had started to write songs at university, and when the opportunity arose he worked his passage on a sailing ketch to Britain, where he landed with 30/- in his pocket. Taking on odd jobs to keep himself, he began his assault on the British song industry. He was first heard on the BBC in a series called ‘Songs You Might Never Have Heard’. As a member of a vocal group featured on the show, the ‘Tin Pan Alley Trio’, he was beginning to make finacial progress when war broke out.
During the war, Paddy flew with the R.A.F. across the Atlantic. to Russia, in the Western Desert and with Coastal Command, and when peace came he became a transatlantic pilot for B.O.A.C. But in 1950 he returned to song writing, and reached the number on spot in 1954 with ‘Softly, Softly’, which was recorded by Ruby Murray. Then he made the first of the records featuring his own singing of his more saucy songs which were to keep him at the top of the charts for months on end, and he rapidly became a top cabaret star. Since then he has been very busy with appearances throughout Britain, and he has been back to sing in South Africa, but he has also found time to work as vice-chairman of the Performing Rights Society and Chairman of the Song Writer’s Guild.
Here on a newly-recorded L.P., Paddy Roberts sings again the songs, spicy, sophisticated, some the slightest shade of blue, which have made his name a byword for wit and entertainment. Starting with that classic tale of our time, ‘The Ballad of Bethnal Green’, these songs will stimulate the most jaded spirits, and bring a wry smile to the most world-weary lips.
What I Say
This album came as a complete surprise, and a pleasant one at that. Judging by the cover (as I always do), I’d assumed that the lewdly winking totty and the ‘For Adults Only’ subtitle would have put it in the same category as this half remembered album from my childhood…
But no! Not even close. Paddy Roberts provides us with lyrically dense songs, in a traditionally Britishly witty manner that can only really be described as whimsical, or perhaps quaint. No, I’ll stick with whimsical.
This is curiously British stuff in the arrangements and delivery, even if Paddy is himself a South African. After all, if that all-English icon Sid James can be South African, so can Paddy.
I can still remember the day when I first heard Tom Lehrer. Actually that’s a bit of a lie, because I couldn’t give you an exact date if you were to get aggressive and press me for one. But it must’ve been late 1987 or early 1988. I was given a third or fourth generation copy of ‘An Evening Wasted’ and ‘That Was The Year That Was’ by a much older colleague, and it opened my eyes to how ‘unfashionable’ music could really tickle my fancy. We had intelligent lyrics, pastiche tunes and unashamedly bad puns. It was wonderful. My mother certainly approved, and even asked for her own copies….
…which makes me wonder why she waited a further 17 years to tell me about Jake Thackray. If ever there was a direct line between styles, then this was it. OK, so Jake was steeped in the French ‘chanson’ tradition, and didn’t have the sharp political / satirical edge of Tom Lehrer, but there was the same tunefulness, lyrical dexterity and humour in both.
Paddy Roberts reminds me a great deal of Jake Thackray, both in the structure of his songs, lyrical content and style. I can see a musical family tree that descends from Gilbert and Sullivan’s ‘Patter’ songs, through Noel Coward, Paddy, Tom and Jake through to Benny Hill, back into rock sensibility with Ian Dury and finally someone like Eminem. Fine, call me pretensious if you like but a) I bet nobody else has compared Eminem to Gilbert and Sullivan, and b) the volume of lyrics crammed into song, the humour, the wordplay the linguistic dexterity are all comparable. Remember, you heard it here first.
The suggestion that this album is in any way rude or ‘for adults only’ is laughable today. I’m not sure that even when this compilation was released in 1968 his work would have been considered risque. It’s definitely from a different era, and there is one repeated ‘bloody’ in ‘L’anglais Avec Son Sang Froid’ which would have shocked my Grandfather, so maybe he was considered a bit wild. But the adult themes are so gently alluded to that unless you’ve got a filthy mind, I’m sure you could have played these to your maiden aunt with the minimum of censorship. For example, allow me to present to you the lyrics to ‘Love In A Mist’:-
When I was a little wolf cub and you were a brownie,
We always remembered our good turn each day.
First it was your turn, and then it was my turn,
And life was so wonderful and carefree and gay.
Follow me, follow me,
Tonight is the night of the Jamboree.
When I was a little wolf cub and you were a brownie,
We learned all the regulations of which there were lots.
We wandered into the clover, and tried them all over,
And you did your semaphore and I did my knots.
Follow me, follow me,
Tonight is the night of the Jamboree.
When I was a little wolf cub and you were a brownie,
We did everything a wolf cub and brownie should do.
I wanted to be a boy scout so I could salute you
With three fingers vertical instead of just two.
Follow me, follow me,
We’ll go to the grotto, and get slightly blotto.
To hell with the motto! Just fo-o-ollow me.
See, not exactly hardcore now, is it. Obviously some of the stuff reflects the era in which it was recorded, and the gentle mockery of homosexuality in ‘The Lavender Cowboy’ seems out of place now, but I suppose you have to look at the album in the context of the era in which the songs were written. It seems odd now, but I’m sure modern life would’ve seemed odd to Paddy.
My only real complaint about this album is that ‘The Belle of Barking Creek’ is almost identical to his most famous number ‘The Ballad of Bethnal Green’ – check out the soundclips below to see what I mean. He’s not doing anything that countless others have done since in terms of finding a formula that works and sticking to it, but coming to his music fresh and hearing the two side by side, it just seems… lazy I suppose.
But I can’t possibly hold it against a man who released an album called ‘Songs For Gay Dogs’. What, you don’t believe me?
