Ok...what follows here are snippets from the 'Road To Nowhere' book that i have been threatening to write over the past few years...
Rather than drop the whole lot on you in one unyielding blob, i thought it might be more interesting to feed you snippets of the story interspersed with the everyday things that i blog about when the mood arises.
Enjoy.
It's a lighthearted look at failing to get to where you always thought you would...
ROAD TO NOWHERE
AN INTRODUCTION
‘Simon Parker? Sorry, never heard of him’.
[Most people in the music industry. Yesterday].
‘Road To Nowhere’ is the witty and affectionate story that details my failed career upon the farthest reaches of the music business. Dating back to the mid nineteen-eighties, our protagonist fondly recollects a number of doomed unsigned independent bands and the various tragedies that pole-axed his plans for world stardom. ‘Road To Nowhere’ is inter-cut with the author’s extensive and undiminished love for long forgotten alternative pop acts - a large number of which are quite possibly name-checked here for the first time since their records dismally failed to scale the upper reaches of the national charts.
Both musicians and lovers of new wave, indie, baggy, grunge and Britpop will find much in common with the author as he humorously recounts a never-ending run of bad luck and dismal timing-not to mention some strange co-incidences involving more successful artists such as The Cure and Chesney Hawkes.
‘Road To Nowhere’ is a must for anyone who has suffered the misfortunes of toiling in an unsigned band, whilst for those that are just starting out in music, there are a number of light-hearted and helpful hints designed to see you on your way to mega-dom.
So, even if you’ve never felt the burn of being squashed into the back of an un-roadworthy Ford Transit, there’s a lot to love about this tale of never being in the right place at the right time…
More from Road To Nowhere in further blogs...but now to other stuff
SHOPPING IN H & M
I was in H & M Brighton the other day and suddenly became very paranoid that i was THE OLDEST PERSON IN THERE. Getting old is peculiar because from the inside you don't realize that the rest of you is showing signs of fatigue. So my therapeutic retail adventure was cut mercilessly short whilst I hurried outside and took stock of the situation. Where else could a man of my years shop? BHS? Too square. M & S. Hmmmnnn, some stuff looked ok-if not rather expensive, but everything was cut for the man who liukes to drown in his clothes. I'm not a fan of wearing tents, so I left there with the security guard giving me the once-over. Gap then made the fatal mistake of trying to sell me a vest top and some cut-off shorts which made me feel all old again [I look like an idiot in anything approaching sporty] and Primark seemed to have gone all retro 80's day-glo. Next and River Island gave off the same 'sod off Grandad vibe', so in the end i cranked up the i-pod and strode manfully back into H & M to buy myself a stripey jumper and a nifty rain jacket with a functional hood. I live in hope that these purchases are befitting of a man forty three years young...
AN ALBUM THAT NEEDS TO BE REDISCOVERED
[No. 1 in a never-ending series]
PALE FOUNTAINS 'FROM ACROSS THE KITCHEN TABLE'
[Virgin Records 1985]
I remember when this album first appeared, the reviews alluded to the fact that it sounded 'cheaply produced'. After all, this was the mid-eighties when everything was gated reverbs and Fairlight synthesizers. Ridiculously, the fact that Ian Broudie chose to keep things natural worked against the record at the time, whilst re-listeneing to the album in 2010, 'From Across The Kitchen Table' effortlessly knocks the spots off of 99% of albums made during this suspiciously ostentatious period. The Pale Fountains became a garage band at the exact moment when everybody else focused on yachts and small islands off of the coast of Montserrat.
Over at Radio One, only Richard Skinner dared play the albums lead-off single 'Jeans Not Happening' , but this was more than enough for me to instantly fall in love with the PF's tougher new direction. In point of fact, the previous years 'Pacific Street' album had gone some way to throwing out the earlier quainter sound on singles such as 'Thank You', but 'From Across The Kitchen Table' took things to a whole new level. And then some.
Gone too were the sub-Enid Blyton threads, replaced by the all important motorcycle leather jacket and destroyed Levi's [I swear that the PF's were the first to introduce these to 80's indie kids wardrobes]. Sartorial issues aside, the music on 'Kitchen Table' was never less than fantastic. Starting with the eat-shit grin of 'Shelter', the PF'S set out their stall with some nifty Motown/Stax production and arrangement references. In fact this album straddles the hither-to unseen ground between 60's soul and 80's alternative music amazingly well. 'Stole The Love' ushered in with some neat cod-spaghetti western guitar courtesy of John Head, then the nineteen year old newbie understudy to older brother and defacto band leader Michael. John's guitar courses through this album, propelling his brothers best collection of songs written under the Pale Fountains banner. 'Jeans Not Happening' blasted past in a rush of frantic melody and now reminds everyone that it is a truly lost classic of the mid-eighties period. The earlier part of the decade had seen bands like The Bunnymen, The Cure, Bauhaus and The Teardrop Explodes rise to success and expand the pop palette, but 1985 was, in some ways the beginning of the end of the eighties. Conveyor belt plastic pop was just around the corner with Madonna and Stock, Aitken and bloody Waterman...
Back at the kitchen table, 'Bicycle Thieves', 'Limit' and ' 27 Ways To Get Back Home' completed a spotless side one. These were still the days when an album offered more than a single face.
Side two began with 'Bruised Arcade' , a slow-burning tune that featured a perfect guitar motif and some impressive vocal gymnastics courtesy of an unknown accomplice simply referred to in the sleeve notes as 'Marge'. The 60's garage band vibe is still much in evidence throughout 'These Are The Things', a song which graced many of the compilations tapes that i subjected friends to during the eighties [and beyond]. A near-perfect wistful melody set to another impressive Michael Head tune. Simple Minds it 'aint [or weren't, if you see what i mean]. That particular mood remained throughout 'It's Only Hard' before 'From Across The Kitchen Table' [another doomed single cut] rung out like church bells on a particularly religious Sunday morning. 'Hey' and 'September Sting' neatly bring the album to a close and its all over barely forty-three minutes after it started. Housed in a tasteful Town and Country planning sleeve, here was an album for all seasons.
And guess what? It royally bombed.
Years later I would get the chance to support Mick and John [by then into their 'Shack' phase] but I never plucked up the courage to say thanks for making an album that made me want to be in a band, or rather a gang who wore leather jackets and ripped to fuck jeans.
Thank you guys. And rest in peace Chris Mc Caffrey.
'From Across The kitchen Table' is available at mid price
