Electric Warrior is a raw kind of rock’n'roll, you can hear it’s bluesy roots, but with a touch of hippy whimsy thrown in.  While Jeepster is straight on electric guitar rock, you’ve also got the softer hippy edge of Cosmic Dancer.  What struck me, apart from the sparseness of the sound, was the lyrics.  Complete nonsense much of the time, there was a general subject or a structure, but it was clear that if something happened to rhyme or sound good, it was in, didn’t matter if it was rubbish, sounding good was everything.

Cosmic Dancer…

is it wrong to understand

the fear that dwells inside a man

what’s it like to be alone?

OK, we’re obviously into pretty deep and meaningful stuff here, but then the next line comes along..

I liken it to a balloon

Now, I nearly get the point, balloons do float around on their own sometimes, but it takes the previously serious lines, and completely lightens (or should that be wrecks) the atmosphere.  Having said that, it sounds good – that’s important.

Don’t let me give you the impression this is an album full of nonsense verse, there’s wonderful imagery in this album too, in “Girl” we get “Oh God, high in your fields above earth…” and although I wouldn’t describe myself as being religious , I have to say that’s a lovely image.

Monolith….

Throne of time, is a kingly a kingly thing

from whence you know, we all do begin

and dressed as you are girl

in you fashions of fate and baby it’s too late

What does that mean?  Nothing, just a set of words that sound good together.  Can I do this lyric writing thing?  Surely, how hard can it be?

The best track for the amateur lyric writer has to be Rip-Off.  He must have had so much fun writing this, once you’ve got the idea for the structure, it writes itself.  Just make up more lines, you can’t go wrong…

See your baby’s stud, sliding in my mud, it’s a rip off

Flicking up you hair, let me kiss you right there, it’s a rip off

Bleached on the beach, I want to tickle your peach, it’s a rip-off

Walking in the rain, and looking such a shame, it’s a rip-off

Mountains of the moon, remind me of my spoon, it’s a rip-off

Underneath your sheets, there’s a place to meet, it’s a rip-off

Half me, half Bolan.  I’ll let you work out which is which.

The view from the Trig point on Ingleborough summit

Looking out to distant hills

which float on mist made seas of light

while morning frost evaporates

and ice wind races

across rock strewn desolate

sun rays spread though cloud breaks grey

while flocks of geese head out to feed

snow hides in north wind sheltered chills

and ice forms white

over flat top sandstone hill

I seen it all before

I seen

I seen it all before

I seen it all before, before you

I know

I know just what you want

I know just what you want you want it all

you might

you might think I’m a fool

you might think I’m a fool a fool for you

maybe

maybe you don’t consider me

maybe you don’t consider me it’s all you

I see

I see I see right through

I see I see right through all of the lies

you say

you say just what I want

you say just what I want I want to hear

not fooled

not fooled no I am not

not fooled no I am not I see quite clear

you’re fake

you’re fake and full of shit

you’re fake and full of shit oh yes you are

I’ll let

I’ll let you think I’m fooled

I’ll let you think I’m fooled now who’s the fool?

one day

one day you’ll get it wrong

one day you’ll get it wrong and I’ll be there

The Sofa on the Street

A poem looking back, and looking forward to those long summer days to come.

When the days get long and darkness never comes

and the sun hangs high and still

when the clouds are strangers and the air dare not move

and the pavements crack hot in the haze

then I’ll sit with you in a sofa made for two

in the street and we’ll both have a beer

I’ll get out my guitar and let’s pretend to sing

and make the most of these long dreamy days

when I cannot sleep for shadows crawling on my walls

and the birds they sing night and day

when whatever I wear is too much for the sweat

and the dogs lie still in the shade

then I’ll sit with you in a sofa made for two

in the street and we’ll both have a beer

I’ll get out my guitar and let’s pretend to sing

and make the most of these long dreamy days

I’m sat up a tree

I’m as happy as can be

I’m a cool cat baby

that’s the cat that is me

-=-=-=-=-

you might think I’m stuck

but I couldn’t give a … hoot

I’m a cool cat baby

in my cat fur suit

-=-=-=-=-

don’t think I’m scared

hanging here in the air

I’m a cool cat baby

and I just don’t care

-=-=-=-=-

you think you’re sound

stood there on the ground

but I’m a cool cat baby

and when I want I’ll get down

-=-=-=-=-

Bob Marley and the Wailers - Live!

I’d not heard it all though, one day shopping in Uxbridge, walking past a record shop I heard a sound that was totally new, yet somehow familiar.  I had no idea who it was, so in I went, it was “No Woman No Cry”, and imagine the effect on that 15 year old white kid, who thought black music was Disco, The Supremes and The Drifters.  Here was something with an edge, a dirtiness and raw honesty that punk aspired to, a voice from the downtrodden, proud.  In some ways, the back story wasn’t that different to the punk message, but the attitude was so different.  Am I being unfair to punk if I say  this Reggae music was more mature?

The punks told us everything was shit, (and in mid 70′s England it was, believe me) and it was going to get worse, and there’s nothing you can do except help it on its way to total decay.  But here was Bob Marley, singing “Everything is gonna be alright, no woman, no cry”.  That was some optimism, given the backdrop to this song, “My fear is my only courage” these are brave, proud and defiant words.  You can do what you like, we’ve had it all, taken it, and we’re still here, heads held high, no woman no cry.  ”All that we’ve got, it seems we have lost”, had he given up?  No way, you can’t take a man’s pride.

So I bought Bob Marley and the Wailers – Live!  I discovered a whole world, Reggae yes, but with rock/pop sensibilities, the guitar solo on No Woman No Cry would not sound out of place on a Stones album.  This music didn’t set out to alienate this teenage white kid, it spoke to me.  I had nothing in common with these guys, nothing in my life experience was in any way close to the picture they painted of life in Trenchtown, but I still heard and felt every message.  The punks were moaning, but Bob was talking of oppression, and he wasn’t walking away, and I loved him for it.  I heard this album, my world had grown.

I didn’t understand half the words, but I got the gist easy enough, the beats were all new to me, nothing like anything else in my collection, yet this one record became a favourite, something I still listen to today.  If you’re feeling everything is getting at you, listen to this album, the optimism burns through, and warms your heart.  To me it still retains that edge, the rawness, after all these years.  I’ve never found anything quite like it, maybe it’s the memory of the impact that it had on that 15 year old white kid, it will always be a special album to me.

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/home-news/brian-may-condemns-windermere-geese-cull-6939118.html

There’s a Facebook group – I one of the few people on the planet who isn’t on Facebook, so apologies if this link is wrong – but I’m sure you’ll be able to find the group somehow…

https://www.facebook.com/#!/gr…

and to prove there is an alternative approach to the “shoot it” mentality, this article has a more educated and scientific analysis of the causes of pollution in Lake Windermere :-

http://news.bbc.co.uk/local/cumbria/hi/people_and_places/nature/newsid_8686000/8686512.stm

I’ve taken the occasional shot down this alley in Lancaster before, but this time decided to hang around for a while and take a series.  The alley makes an interesting frame, and while some of the subjects are going about their business not looking at me, every now and then one would look my way.  Most of the images are taken down the aptly named Bashful Alley – being as I am being a tad bashful by street photography standards by hiding out of the way.   I also found it interesting that although I was stood in this spot for probably 20 minutes or so, and was passed by quite a few people, no one so much as looked twice or seemed the least bit concerned as to why I was furtively lurking at the end of an alley way taking photos.   We really like to keep ourselves to ourselves us British.

I could do with some of that

I could do with some of that

a bit of control here and there

just a tuck in the right place

a bit of squeeze and push

not sure about that lacy stuff though

alright for these skinny girls

I need something a bit more substantial

don’t get me wrong

it looks great

does it for me like

and it’s not that I’m not in touch with my feminine side

but come on

I know I ain’t their target market am I?

functional

that’s what I need

constructional

industrial

hefty

now where’s the builder’s merchants?

It’s Valentine’s Day, so how about some Love graffiti?