There’s a fair bit of discussion around the blogs at the moment regarding record retailers. I might graduate to my own views on the subject in time but I thought it might be interesting to frame those with some indications as to where I’ve come from. To start this then I’m going to go right back to 1980 and to my first real exposure to record buying.

I’ve said before that I didn’t really pay a lot of attention to music before I went to university. So pre-1980 the few records I purchased would tend to be bought in the likes of John Menzies. To anyone familiar with WH Smith now that might be something of a surprise but the market for music was so large that a lot of the larger chains such as Menzies and Woolworths had reasonably extensive catalogues.

There were local record stores (loads of them in fact, at least one in every town) but they weren’t really of that much interest to me at school.

A move to uni though tends to broaden horizons and that was very much the way with music for me. Quite quickly I established two principal areas for record buying – the West End (where I was staying) and the city centre.

Although I was in the West End more than the city centre, I’m going to start in the city.

As well as the usual mix of independent retailers, which I’ll come to, the city centre boasted the two major chains at the time.

The names Virgin and HMV are these days synonymous with entertainment rather than exclusively music but in 1980 there were no videos and certainly no games. When located on Union Street, (they would move sites but much later on) both of these were essentially record shops – although even in 1980 Virgin was starting to branch out.

Virgin in particular was impressive in that it was spread over several floors with LPs on the ground floor and singles on the first. I suspect another floor was dedicated to t-shirts but am I wrong in thinking there was a further floor of some description? (and maybe a basement?).

I’ve two early memories of the shop – on the ground floor debating with myself (although not out loud!) whether to spend my £4 on the debut Echo & The Bunnymen LP ‘Crocodiles’ (with bonus 7” single) or ‘Remain In Light’ by Talking Heads. The ‘Do It Clean’ 7” swung it for the Bunnymen.

On the first floor I remember coming across a single by Rockpile and being surprised to do so since the band had, up til that point, not released a record in their own name. Clear yellow vinyl as it happens.

These shops distinguished themselves by virtue of the range they stocked – or at least Virgin did. For that privilege you would likely pay extra with their LPs ranging from roughly £3.99 to £4.29, whereas in the  independents £3.99 would be top whack and you may well have picked up LPs for £3.49 or £3.75.

In truth HMV suffered next to Virgin and was always the poor relation, costing as much but lacking the range of stock. I can really only remember buying one LP in there and it was an import at that (the Dutch ‘Enz’ compilation by the Comasat Angels).

Otherwise there were a clutch of indies located close by. At the foot of Renfield Street there were two stores opposite each other, although I’m struggling a bit with names. Not sure I was in the store on the West side of the street too often after I went in and found that everything was ordered by record label rather than artist!

The shop on the east side may have been a Listen but it never seemed to me as well stocked as the West End shop, although the Comsats feature in my memories of that store as well – I distinctly remember buying my first Comsats’ record in there – ‘The Eye of the Lens’ 12” for 49p!

Slightly further north and just round the corner on St Vincent Street was another store (probably Bloggs). I genuinely can’t remember every buying anything in there. Then further north again on Bath Street was 23rd Precinct which was a store I never fell in love with, partly because it always seemed slightly moree expensive than its competitors. Having said that I’m fairly sure that I bought the first Smiths 7″ ‘Hand In Glove’ in there.

There were undoubtedly more shops even at that time but I’ll return to Glasgow city centre at some point soon.

And so to the West End. Most regular port of call was Listen Records on Byres Road which was conveniently on the way home for a couple of years. My recollection is that the new release LP rack was just on the left as you came in the door but my most striking recollection of the shop was the singles. The 7”s were not on display as such but instead were advertised via a handwritten noticeboard listing of punk and new wave singles on the right hand wall.

I guess Listen must have been the shop I used the most but I’m struggling to assign too many efinite purchases to the shop although I do recall entering with the anticipation of getting my hands on the slightly delayed second Bunnymen LP ‘Heaven Up Here’. I suspect that Listen was where I would have bought the TV21 LP ‘A Thin Red Line’ too.

But there was also De Courcy’s Arcade, just off Byres Road which always seemed to have some form of record shop in it. It’s perhaps best known as the original home of A1 Records (which was to become FOPP), which was the biggest shop I remember in there. Another Comsats memory – I got the first LP in there, albeit tracking back after getting the second one first. Of the smaller shops  I also remember one which stocked bootleg tapes in there.

Further east, Lost Chord, Park Road still seems to be going as a second hand store. It was  a slightly downmarket shop inasmuch as it seemed to stock a lot of Portugese (?) imports that were sold around about £2.99.

I also remember a couple of years later that there was a shop whose name I simply can’t recall on Gibson Street, a basement if I remember correctly, usually with a girl behind the counter. It probably became more of a port of call in 1982-83 because I’d moved but I have clear memories of trying for several weeks to get the third U2 LP in there and being told it wasn’t out! What I can’t remember is if they did finally get that custom for that particular record, which like the Bunnymen LP above, was probably deliberately delayed by the record company to raise expectations. Did that use to happen quite a lot?

More record shop memories at some point soon (before I completely forget them!)

Footnote:  I’ve added a couple of names to my memories above based on this forum.

Picture by Debbie Woods – from the Edinburgh Gig Archive

February’s looking more positive though with the Tidal Wave of Indifference show featuring PAWS and Edinburgh School for the Deaf at the Wee Red Bar on the 25th the standout at the moment with plenty of other possibles swimming around.

But here’s something from the acts that I didn’t see at Celtic Connections in the last 8 days.

First off Emma Pollock being eaten by a dragon …

Then Zoey van Goey speaking French on a very big Tyrannosaur sized stage:

Malcolm Middleton also on the continent:

And finally FOUND acoustic in a forest:

Given the fact that this blog derives its name from the first That Petrol Emotion LP, it’s fair to say that I’ve not written about TPE that often over the course of the last 5 years or so as I might have done. But choosing to give a play to the band’s fifth LP ‘Fireproof’ the other day gives me an excuse to do just that.

Throughout a career which saw their 5 LPs released on 4 different labels, the Petrols permanently seemed on the brink of a commercial breakthrough. Yet for some reason, they never quite made it. Their best chance probably came on the back of the release of probably their most commercial single ‘Big Decision’ as far back as second LP ‘Babble’. But that LP contained nothing else remotely commercial and by the time non-LP single ‘Genius Move’ came out, the moment had passed.

Part of the problem, at least for radio programmers, was that the band was impossible to pigeonhole. In particular LPs 3 and 4 (‘End of the Millenium Psychosis Blues’, admitedly not the catchiest nor most radio friendly of LP titles, and ‘Chemicrazy’) generated a bewildering range of singles from the Celtic  tinged ‘Cellophane’ to the out and out dance number of ‘Groove Check’ to the more straightforward pop of ‘Sensitize’.

It’s ironic then that they delivered their most coherent record, ‘Fireproof’ on their own Koogat label after they had been dropped by Virgin. If Sean (a.k.a John) O’Neil had delivered their most accessible tunes early on, then new songwriting partnership Raymond Gorman and Ciaran McLaughlin were, by ‘Fireproof’, capable of delivering some fine pop tunes themselves.

‘Fireproof’ largely eschews the eclecticism of their earlier LPs for a more straightforward indie rock/pop template and as such would have been far easier for a major label to have pushed. There are plenty of classic songs on the record, the song from the video below would surely have been a hit, but with waning press interest, the record never got the exposure it deserved and the band split amicably in 1994.

There, of course, has been a sequel to their career with a reformation for live dates in 2008 and 2009. One of my biggest musical regrets over the lifetime of the blog is that I didn’t manage to get to any of the shows with their only Scottish date a show at T in the Park.

It’s been all quiet over at thatpetrolemotion.com since December 2010 when singer Steve Mack announced that the band was ‘on hiatus’ due to the birth of his son Theo. No word at all during 2011 but I harbour hopes that the Petrols will return at some point in the not too distant future although Steve seems to have a new band called STAG.

Meanwhile, here’s a live version of ‘Last of the True Believers’ from ‘Fireproof’, recorded at one of the reformation shows:

Your best hope of getting the LP would seem to be secondhand in shops or by download with the 2009 remaster still very much available.

In my 2012 preview feature I expressed the hope that the second Withered Hand LP might appear this year. Dan subsequently tweeted that the fact that he was releasing a new LP  was news to him! Aw.

In the meantime this will have to do. But, of course, it just heightens anticipation for a new LP even more!

Subscribe to the Fence ‘Chart Ruse’ EP series here.

I always look forward to a new Alastair Reynolds novel but the wait for his latest,  ‘Blue Remembered Earth’, seems to have been longer than normal. That perceived delay was exacerbated by the fact that my pre-order arrived on schedule but that was still several days AFTER the book started appearing in Waterstone’s shops. (Whoops, sorry, slipped an apostrophe in there – can’t help myself).

Briefly the plot of the book centres round a “treasure hunt” involving the two main characters Geoffrey and Sunday Akinya. Sunday and Geoffrey have rejected their roles in the great corporate family business, astro engineering. But the death of their grandmother Eunice, the matriarch of the family, pitches them into a solar system wide search for what could be a great family secret – with the more business orientated family members in hot pursuit. Oh, and it features one of the most zealous Social Work services in SF – ever!

BRE has been portrayed as something of a departure from his previous work in that the drama in the book is more about man vs nature than any conflict with villains as such. But, whilst the bulk of the conflict arises from different goals rather than malign intent, there’s still one character, peripheral to the main thrust of the narrative perhaps, but someone whose actions nevertheless are undoubtedly malign. Is it fair to say that they are wearing a black hat? I think so.

Structurally the book is a much more of a thriller/mystery than I’d expected but that is undoubtedly something which Reynolds does exceptionally well. The plot leaps unpredictably from one element to the next such that you’re never quite sure what’s coming next.

So, for me, the biggest departure isn’t so much the type of book it is but rather its setting. Whilst all of his previous novels have been far future, BRE is set in the middle of the next century. As a consequence, Reynolds has to create a world that has strong connections to our own but which appears at least as advanced to us now as we would look to someone from Victorian times. It’s not an easy trick to pull off but one he accomplishes with some aplomb.

The most significant element of his 22nd century world is the Mechanism. The Mechanism is a slightly scary neural safety valve which neutralises any violent impulse any individual on Earth might have – by first disabling the would-be assailant then, more terrifying than any neural stun, setting the aforementioned Social Work Service on the perp. Not surprisingly the Earth of the 22nd century is a society with virtually no crime nor violence. But at what price?

But it’s the smaller details of his world(s) that emphasise Reynolds’s imagination – the slo-mo Robot Wars, the blowpipes and then of course there’s the elephants. And any fan of the author’s more grotesque creations will surely revel in Holroyd when he appears.

BRE may not be a complete break with his past work, but it still marks the author’s continuing expansion of his craft. And most importantly (as usual) it’s a hugely enjoyable SF novel.

Buy ‘Blue Remembered Earth’ in your local bookshop or online.

You can read the first 3 chapters from the novel here. And then watch the video!

Loads of people seem to do covers on their blogs. I’ve not ever really done that ‘ til now. So above is Kristin Hersh covering the Pixies.

Next Kristin’s “other” band 50 Foot Wave cover Jefferson Airplane:

And finally, and perhaps best of all, 50 Foot Wave cover … Kristin Hersh.

You used to be able to get a free download of this song – I’m sure I have/had it at one point.

Tickets for the above cracking bill can now be pur-chased over t’internet at this fine location.

Go on, you know you want to.

Doubtless more on the show in coming weeks.

Vic is also playing shows in Glasgow on the 23rd and Edinburgh on the 24th. More info here.

My first new LP of 2012 is ‘Let’s Go Eat The Factory’ by the reformed (classic line-up) Guided By Voices.

I’m more familiar with latter period GBV so those parentheses have less resonance for me than for longer term fans. And having heard the lead single ‘Doughnut For The Snowman’ a couple of times before Christmas, my hopes weren’t that high for the record.

My first couple of listens of the whole LP didn’t raise my expectations much either. Rather they suggested that this is little more than a low-fi version of the latter day, more polished GBV records, recorded as it was in various basements. However subsequent listens revealed a far more surprising, and much stronger, record than I’d at first thought.

Sure, there’s plenty of classic GBV garage rock in here, in the shape of opening track ‘Laundry and Lasers’ with its electronic pulse or the melodic ‘The Unsinkable Fats Domino’. But more than any other GBV record that I’ve heard this is a varied listen.

There’s strings on ‘Hang Mr Kite’, the micro piano ballad ‘Spiderfighter’ , and even a couple of dissonant tracks such as ‘The Room Taking Shape’. Meanwhile there’s a trumpet on ‘Imperial Racehorsing’ and ‘The Big Hat and Toy Show’ could be a psychedelic Julian Cope b-side.

Most bizarre of all perhaps is the low-fi Arcade Fire does Auld Lang Syne of ‘Old Bones’ but actually looking at it in these terms it maybe makes more sense than I’m suggesting.

The last track turns out to be the longest. In fact ‘We Won’t Apologize for the Human Race’ reaches epic proportion in breaking the four minute barrier. And like a lot of the record, it’s really rather good.

With this variety of songs and the fact that more than half of the very short songs are under 2 minutes long (in fact two don’t even reach the 60 second mark) , there’s a danger that this could all have ended up sounding bitty. Very bitty. But the effect instead is the reverse as the variety somehow holds the whole enterprise together.

What repeated listens prove is that, rooted in amongst all the assorted jumble of the 21 tracks, there’s a hell of a lot of good songwriting.

A good way to start 2012.

I think this would have been my choice of single:

You can download the track for free from here.

Ach, where’s all my time gone? December’s glut of posts now seems like a broken promise to the world in general.

So another brief filler post tonight, the second in succession.

Until I read this month’s Mojo, I had no idea that New Order had reformed last year, albeit minus Peter Hook. But the feature did send me back to the New Order LPs and I fished out the one that I hadn’t listened to for the longest time – ‘Brotherhood’.

Now it’s probably not a popular thing to say but ‘Brotherhood’ may be my favourite New Order LP.

To be honest, for whatever reason, I’ve always regarded New Order as a singles band. Sure, I like the LPs I own, but for some reason I just don’t quite think they ever made a truly classic album unlike contemporaries like the Bunnymen. But I’ve always thought quite fondly of ‘Brotherhood’ which completes the trilogy started by ‘Power, Corruption and Lies’ and ‘Low-life’. But song for song I do think that ‘Brotherhood’ matches and bests the other two.

I think my first introduction to the record was the band’s appearance on the Tube which featured (non-LP) single ‘State of the Nation’ (always one of my favourite mid period singles) and the much more rocky ‘Broken Promise’ from the record. And it’s that video which is going to provide the background to this post, albeit that ‘Broken Promise’ doesn’t even reach the fade it undoubtedly suffered at the end of the show.

Despite it being my favourite New Order record, ‘Brotherhood’ also turned out to be the last album I bought. I didn’t particularly take to any of the singles from its follow-up ‘Technique’ and what I heard of ‘Republic’ sounded just too polished for my tastes. Probably my biggie but, well, a boy’s only got so much time.

Which brings me full circle in this post!

A post on a new record next, promise.

There was a mini REM night on the BBC the other night. Quite why the 2 programmes (R.E.M. At The BBC and REM on Later) were tucked away after midnight is something of a mystery when you consider the lesser talents who have had full blown themed nights. But as ever with these things they were recorded to be watched at my leisure.

Featuring a mixture of live performances and mimes, the BBC show leant heavily on the post Bill Berry era with the only live electric performance from before ‘Up’ being one from  OGWT in 1984 with a simply suberb acapella ‘Moon River’ leading straight into ‘Pretty Persuasion’. There were good (later) live versions of ‘The One I Love’ and particularly ‘Perfect Circle’ but the likes of ‘All The Way To Reno’ and ‘Daysleeper’ are unlikely to be regarded as amongst the best songs in the band’s repertoire.

But funnily enough two of the mimed performances were amongst the highlights. Up top is the band’s TOTP debut for ‘Orange Crush’ and this is really a performance piece with Stipe alternatively “singing” from behind his megaphone then waving it around in an alarmingly Morrisey-like fashion.

What I really wanted to use thugh was the performance of ‘Crush With Eyeliner’ again mimed on TOTP but it doesn’t seem to be on Youtube. There’s a large number of dancers on stage with the band, some on pedestals, which creates a good energy. But the video is quite noticeable for the bottom fetish of the director.

One shot from the rear of one of the female dancers sets the video off down a peculiar route with much of the rest of the performance filmed from behind the posteriors of the individuals in bear suits. Of course the fact that Top of the Pops was emblazoned on these ursine rears was undoubtedly a factor but honestly it gets beyond a joke.

Hilariusly towards the end of the video, Stipe leaps onto a pedestal and touches his toes, but suddenly the director seems to be sick of rear ends, managing a shot instead of Stipe’s head between his legs – in quite tight focus! Wonder why?

I’d hoped that someone may have ripped this even since the weekend, but it’s not obvious to me at the moment.