Tuesday Meditation.

My Clematis.

It was the warmest March day since 1968 today. You can look at that two ways I suppose. You can worry that it is due to global warming, or just enjoy it while it lasts. I chose the latter and went for a walk up to the White Horse. I took a few photos, but I have shown you similar things before. When I got home it was still only 2.00, so I sat in my little yard listening to music. I was in a mood for Ambient minimalist type music, so I listened to Music For Zen Meditation and Erik Satie. There were other sounds to be heard, the fountain in the pond, the chattering of sparrows, the song of the blackbird, even a dog barking in the distance. All these sounds somehow harmonised with the music.

Tree on my walk.

I saw two Red Admiral butterflies, a big bumble bee and what I think was a ladybird. It seemed quite idyllic. My clematis armandii looks magnificent in full bloom. It has grown all along the fence, over my tiny shed and cascading down over the wheelie bin. It will not last long, but looks great for now. It is Tuesday evening now. That used to be the evening for bell-ringing practice at nearby All Saints Church. Sitting out at the back of my house, the sound of the bells used to give the illusion of living in a little village, but it hasn’t happened since Covid-19 arrived. To hear the bells again will herald things getting back to normal. The pub will be able to serve drinks outside from April 12^th, so that will be welcome.

 

Veedon Fleece.

It was wet and windy yesterday. Stuck indoors I was listening to Veedon Fleece and I thought I would revisit a piece I wrote about this album a few years ago and see if I could improve it a bit. It is the Van album that I most associate with Ireland apart from Irish Heartbeat. I bought it on Pete Wells record stall on Peterborough Market in the mid 70's and I did not really get into it at the time. Veedon Fleece languished in my album collection for decades and I hardly ever played it. Only when I began buying all Van albums again on CD did I finally come to realise what a fine album it is. Veedon Fleece was years ahead of its time for fans, critics, and me alike. I think the reason I did not get into this album initially is because apart from Bulbs there are no upbeat catchy type songs on it to grab the attention. That is one of the strengths of the album though, because in terms of consistency of mood and the stream of consciousness type lyrics it is comparable to Astral Weeks. 

The album came about when Van made a trip to Ireland in 1973 with his girlfriend Carol Guida. It was his first visit to Ireland since his move to America six years earlier. He visited Cork, Cashel, Killarney and even the Blarney Stone. Seeing his native Island again through fresh eyes was the inspiration for this album. After a lifetime of looking towards the blues and jazz of America Van was beginning to go through a change in which his Celtic roots would come to the fore. The album sleeve design is arguably the best in his catalogue with Van photographed with two Irish wolfhounds. I believe it was taken at Sutton House near Dublin. It reminds me of a house I knew in my childhood called Fletton Towers owned by a Miss Hartley, the sister of LP Hartley who wrote The Go Between. In the grounds of her house she had about six of these wolfhounds roaming about. The back of the album cover is a nice green colour which is quite appropriate because this album is tinged with green.

Fair Play is a wonderful opening song which sets the tone for the album. Killarney’s lakes so blue is mentioned. There is a smattering of literary name dropping with Poe, Wilde and Thoreau. Also, Geronimo and High Ho Silver. Cowboys and Indians crop up quite a lot in Van’s lyrics, a throwback to his childhood no doubt. Linden Arden Stole The Highlights is a much darker song. Jeff Labes delicate piano introduces this song. If Toni Marcus’s violin gave Into The Music its distinctive sound, then Jeff Labes arrangements give this album it’s grandeur. I wonder what in Van’s subconscious made him come up with the name Linden Arden?  In Notting Hill where he lived at one time is a street called Linden Gardens. Who Was That Masked Man? seems like a continuation of the previous track with the theme of living with a gun.  Lone Ranger imagery appears again. This is a tale of paranoia about not being able to trust anyone and Van sings about being so fragile you might break which suggests it is about a personal crisis. Van’s high falsetto voice is unrecognisable from his singing voice of today.

Streets Of Arklow is a classic and a song Van has returned to his repertoire to huge acclaim from the fans. It begins with a sombre acoustic guitar intro before Van’s vocals accompanied by the flute of Jim Rothermel. I saw him perform a wonderful duet of this song with Mick Hucknell a few years ago. You Don't Pull No Punches, But You Don't Push The River is another masterpiece. I have a book at home by Barry Stevens called Don't Push The River (It flows by itself). Maybe that is where Van got the title from. This song is an aural sketch describing the beauty of the Irish countryside, the real soul, I mean the real soul people, and meandering like a river through the visions of Blake, and Eastern mysticism of Meher Baba. & William Blake and The Eternals. This is the first time Blake is mentioned in a Van song but in the years to come Blake was to be a big influence because his songs are strewn with references to Blake. The Sisters Of Mercy are mentioned. Leonard Cohen recorded a song with that title in 1967. I do not know if that has any relevance though.

Bulbs is the catchiest song on the album and was issued as a single with 'Masked Man' on the flip side. The lines 'The one-shot deal don't matter, And the other one's the same' seems quite Dylan-esque to me. It has a kind of country feel to it. With the references to football games and light bulbs I am not sure what it is about. Canal streetlights all turn blue could suggest Amsterdam or Holland which has lots of canals and bulbs, but I am only guessing. Cul De Sac is also an enigma to me. These lyrics probably just popped into Van’s head. Maybe, even he would not know what they mean. Mount Palomar is a famous observatory. Although I do not understand this song, I do like it. ‘We don’t care who you know, it’s who you really are’ is a good message to have. The last three songs, Comfort You, Come Here My Love and Country Fair I always treat as one, because they all flow together beautifully in a sustained atmospheric twelve-minute passage of brilliance. Comfort You is a touching love song, Come Here My Love is acoustic and simple. Van seems to stretch and search for adjectives, Just layin' down in shades of effervescent, effervescent odours And shades of time and tide. Country Fair is a bucolic aural sketch with the flute or recorder playing simply perfect. The album just ebbs away and fades into the distance wonderfully.

This album wasn't received all that well by the public and critics. Van would not attempt another album as experimental for several years and following its release Van disappeared off the scene for three years. With the passage of time Van was proved to be right and I think Veedon Fleece deserves to be highly placed among His top ten albums.

Me & Killarney's Lakes So Blue.

 

My Irish World Cup Campaign 1990.

I first went to Ireland in the summer of 1990. I caught the train to Swansea to catch the Swansea -Cork ferry. Ireland were playing in the World Cup that afternoon. They were playing Romania for a place in the last eight. In a Swansea pub I asked the barman could he put the telly on so I could watch the match.

"We are not interested in football in here, you have to put 20p in the charity box for mentioning football".

Jack Charlton.

I ignored him and sat in a corner, A coven of old women were seated at a table next to me talking in negative terms about somebody called Dorothy who wasn't there. Then Dorothy came in and they said how nice it was to see her. It was all very depressing, and I was glad to get on the boat. It was very strange because all the crew were Greek. The boat had previously been chugging around the Greek isles until it was sold and moved to Ireland, and the crew had come along as well. After a couple of pints, I fell asleep in a reclining chair. The Irish Sea was as smooth as a mill pond and I slept well. When I awoke it was light. I looked out of the window and there was Ireland in the distance. It was exciting, my first sight of the land of my ancestors. It looked beautiful, all rocky and green. Before long I had disembarked and set foot on the holy ground. As the bus carried me into Cork, I noticed one or two statues of the virgin Mary by the side of the road and knew that this was a spiritual land and not some god-forsaken heathen place. When I arrived in the fine city of Cork I noticed that everybody was smiling. The country was going mad because Ireland had won the match and were in the quarter-finals. At the big cinema in the town centre they had taken down the name of the film and in great big letters it now said,

GOOD LUCK TO JACK'S LADS-GIVE IT A LASH.

Cork.

Although it was only about 10.00 in the morning, I thought a quiet pint wouldn't do me no harm. Seated on a bench at the side of the bar was a little old man in a great big overcoat and a trilby who looked about 80. We got chatting and I told him I had just got off the boat.

"Do you like Ireland?"

"Oh yes, my parents are from Ireland".

"But would you like to be buried here?"

"It's a bit early in the day to be thinking about that sort of thing, have you always lived in Cork?"

"Most of it, I have had a most unfortunate life. When I was young and popular, I played the accordion at all the weddings, then I met this woman. Everybody told me to have nothing to do with her, but I was young and foolish and married her. She suffered terribly with the nerves, my life was a living hell, I never went out for about 40 years".

We had a great chat, he bought me a pint and I bought him one and he told me his whole life story. Although he told me his life was one misery after another I could tell he was half joking. After an hour I thought I should get a move on. I told him I was on my way to County Kerry to visit some friends, and he told me I should go to County Clare where half of them were mad and the other half were schoolteachers. and to visit his friend Two Acre McDermott who grew two acres of spuds and could not sell them, so he had to eat them all himself. I said cheerio to my new pal and caught the bus to the outskirts of Cork. On the Killarney road I stuck my thumb out and quickly got a lift with a travelling salesman who was listening to the radio. Ireland is the home of the phone in radio show. All day is like one long conversation. A bank manager had phoned in about the Irish fans out in Italy who had expected to only be away a few days and now it was going into weeks. The bank manager said he had some advice for the fans,

"Come home lads, you can't afford it, for god’s sake come home!"

The man who gave me a lift asked if I had seen the match the day before and I told him I had missed it, thinking back ruefully to the pub in Wales.

"Oh, it was great, the best game of football I’ve ever seen, the atmosphere was unbelievable!"

Then he proceeded to give me a commentary on the whole game from the kick-off. He described it in minute detail. He suddenly noticed somebody he knew walking along the road and stopped for a chat.

"Hello there Michael, how’s the form?"

"Ah, taking it easy and doing a bit".

 I had never seen this in England, people stopping a car to have a chat with someone. They talked about the weather for about 10 minutes including the long-range forecast and they said goodbye and he carried on his story.

"Now John Aldridge had to go off with an injured foot, Jack Charlton was now faced with a terrible dilemma, should he bring on Ronnie Whelan although he wasn't match fit". This went on and the way he related the penalty shoot-out at the end was better than being at the game itself.

"And David O'Leary stepped up and buried the ball in the back of the net, Ireland had won a great victory".

He went right out of his way to drop me at the Blackwater Bridge Inn to meet my friends and wouldn't accept anything in return. 'What a great country this is' , I thought. I've only been in it about four hours and made two friends already'. My friends lived in a little cottage in a valley surrounded by the most sublime scenery I have ever seen. They didn't have a telly, so that evening Steve and myself went to the pub to watch England play Belgium. We were still in there at midnight. The Landlord said,

"Well, I’m off to bed lads, help yourself to a drink and let yourselves out through the shop".

I had never seen this in England either, being left in a pub to help yourself. It is called trust. An hour later we put the money on the counter and quietly closed the door behind us as we left. The next few days I saw as much of Kerry as possible. Steve drove me around the Ring Of Kerry which has everything, lakes, mountains and beautiful beaches to explore. One day I hitched to the town of Kenmare and in Crowley’s pub I helped Mrs Crowley with her crossword. Another day Steve & Jane took me to Sneem where I had a pint sitting on the stone outside Dan Murphy’s. The time passed quickly and a few days later I was back in Cork.

The place was buzzing with excitement. Tonight, Ireland were playing the host nation and Favourites Italy for a place in the semi-final. I watched the match in a pub called The Phoenix. Italy took the lead through a goal by Scilaci and Ireland battled away, but try as they could, they couldn't break down the Italian defence. Also, a major weakness in Ireland’s team was that they lacked an effective striker. With ten minutes to go they brought on Tony Cascarino. I thought this is ironic, the Irish man with the Italian name will score. It wasn't to be however, and Italy hung on for victory. The dream was over, but for a couple of heady weeks in 1990 Ireland had been on the world stage fighting it out with the great footballing nations. The next day I was sailing away from Ireland, back towards Swansea. I had spent all my money, so, sat on deck and watched Ireland disappear into the distance. I knew in the bars they would be having a drink and taking it easy and doing a bit, and I hoped I would return.

Me outside Dan Murphy's.

Back On Top by Van Morrison.

I remember the day in 1998 that I bought Back On Top because it was the same day I had a tooth out at the dentists in Trowbridge. Afterwards, I went to the record department of Knees store and bought Van’s new album. I did not like the cover much.  It reminded me of something like a John Le Carre spy novel. Going Down Geneva opens the album not very promisingly with a typical bluesy song.  Vince Taylor is mentioned and Van says it’s a shame nobody has heard of him. I had never heard of him either, but I looked him up on youtube and I don't think he was a great talent. I have read that David Bowie based the character of Ziggy Stardust on Vince. Van also mentions going down Geneva in the song Foreign Window. He must have a thing about going down Geneva. Montreux is also mentioned which makes me think of Smoke On The Water by Deep Purple which has similar subject matter.

Vince Taylor.

The next song though is one of Vans greatest, The Philosophers Stone. To Van music is a form of magic and Van is an alchemist who takes the various genres of music such as blues, jazz, rock, folk and soul and turns it into the gold that is uniquely his own. This is what he is talking about in this wonderful song. His harmonica playing is top notch as well. The pace is slowed right down then for In The Midnight, a sad song about lost love which I have enjoyed hearing Van sing live on many occasions. The title track Back On Top has never been a personal favourite with Van moaning about the deadbeats at the top of the hill. When The Leaves Come Falling Down in contrast though is a beautiful ballad which is amongst Vans finest and the sort of song that Van’s devoted fans love. It is quite exquisite with beautiful imagery of Paris in the rain and leaves a tumblin' down. Some fabulous piano accompanies Vans walk to the place between the garden and the wall. Chet Baker is name checked as well. Chet crops up again in the more recent song In Tiburon. At the Grand Hotel in Torquay a couple of years ago we gave Van a list of requests and he sang this song for us which made our evening.

His great harmonica playing opens High Summer. Van is complaining about high summer getting him down, in other songs he moans about having to get through January and February. He seems to moan all year round apart from Autumn time. The mansion on the hillside and red sports car seems to hark back to earlier Van songs. Reminds Me Of You is a similar song to In The Midnight, but even more desperate with Van saying he feels like he is going to hell and when will the pain recede into the darkness from whence it has come. New Biography is Van taking a swipe at people like me who have a hobby on the internet. 

It’s a bit unfair really because Van has his favourite writers and singers and doesn't mind talking about them so why should he care if people like to discuss his work. Not on my Wavelength is a reference to the excellent Wavelength fan magazine which sadly does not exist anymore. Precious Time is one of Van’s great pop songs which a lot of the fans did not seem to like. It provided Van with a hit single, and I like it as it bounces along to a boppy beat while Van muses about the certainty of death and no chance of afterlife. Golden Autumn Day ends the album on a bleak note with Van pretending it is paradise on a golden autumn day, but in fact it is grim with Van recounting how he was nearly mugged in a town surrounded by green hills which must be Bath. I never have liked this song much. Anyway, not to worry, this album contains some of Vans finest songs and deserves to be included in his top twenty albums. The Philosophers Stone and When The Leaves Come Falling Down alone make this an album worth buying.

Paris when the leaves come falling down.

 

Our Trip To See Van Morrison in Dublin 2003.

Me, Kim, & James Joyce.

The only time we saw Van in Ireland was 2003 when we saw him in Dublin. When we set out on that fateful journey little did we realise what lay ahead. In Bristol the train broke down for an hour and when we changed trains at Newport, I realised that we had missed our connection for Fishguard. When the ticket collector came along, he said.,

Kim On Ferry.

"Well, I am afraid that you are not going to Fishguard today".

"We are going to Fishguard today", I angrily replied, "I have two tickets here that say we are, we have a ferry to catch, and it wasn't our fault we were delayed, so you just go and sort it out".

A few minutes later he returned and sat down next to me.

“You are sitting on my hat!”.

Kim had bought me a new hat in Kevin's Menswear £39 and this railway person was sitting on it.

"Oh Sorry, well I have had a word with my superiors and if you get out at Carmarthen there will be a taxi waiting to take you to Fishguard".

"Thank you very much”, I replied, knocking my hat back into shape.

The rest of the journey past without incident and we caught the ferry on time. Although it was only late March it was a beautiful calm sunny day and we spent most of the time on deck as the boat sped us towards Ireland. It's always a thrill to see Ireland appearing in the distance, and when we got off the boat at Rosslare it felt great to be back in the land of saints and scholars. We spent the night in The Rosslare Hotel. This is the hotel where Eamon De Valera spent a night before escaping to France under the noses of the British disguised as a priest. There is a photo of him in the bar. 

Dev In Rosslare.

The next day we went to Waterford. In a cafe I asked the waitress if she knew of any good B and B's we could stay at.

"I'll give my Auntie Josie a ring and she will come and pick you up".

A few minutes later Josie arrived and ushered us to her car, we had no say in the matter. We were staying with Josie whether we liked it or not.

"Have you been to Ireland before?", asked Josie.

"Oh yes, my family come from County Mayo".

"Oh Mayo, god help us", said Josie, crossing herself. I think this goes back to the famine when Mayo had it worse than anywhere and people felt sorry for them. That night we went out on the town and didn't get home till gone midnight and Josie was waiting up for us. When we got in, she started pouring us glasses of sherry and wanted a chat. Above her fireplace was a large painting of a racehorse from the days before George Stubbs learned how to paint horses correctly. "Sure didn't they have some queer looking horses in those days", said Josie. Next morning, she cooked us breakfast. The best in the world. The bacon and sausages were superb, and the bread was great. A good Irish breakfast will keep you going all day. Before we left, Josie took our photo which she did with all her visitors and drove us to the station. She was the best B and B lady I have ever met. The train ride up to Dublin is a beautiful journey. As we crossed the bridge at Arklow I spotted a cormorant preening its wings in the sunshine and the town looked really nice with all the buildings painted in bright colours. Van visited here back in 73 on his holiday which inspired one of his greatest albums Veedon Fleece. I would have loved to have stopped and wandered the Streets Of Arklow but that will have to be another time, When we got to Dublin I asked a man where the taxi rank was.

Street Of Arklow.

"Go left and you'll be right", he replied, the Dubliners are wizards with words, it is no wonder they are such great writers. We arrived at our hotel Cassady's in Upper O'Connell St. I chose this hotel because I like the name Cassady. It reminds me of Jack Kerouac books. At the Gate Theatre opposite they were putting on a Tennessee Williams play which I thought was a good omen for the concert the following night. Then we set out to explore Dublin. In O'Connell St Kim took my photo with the statue of James Joyce. All the statues in Dublin have nicknames. James Joyce is known as 'The Prick With The Stick', Molly Malone is 'The Tart With The Cart' and a statue of a goddess in a fountain is 'The Floosie In The Jacuzzi' or 'The Hoo'er In The Sewer'.

Military Manouvres.

We visited The National Gallery in Merrion Square to have a look at the pictures. Although Ireland is world famous for the richness of its literary tradition, its artists are not so well known except for Jack B Yeats and a few others. In the gallery I was pleasantly surprised to see the wealth of fine paintings on display, particularly of the Irish impressionists. One painting that caught my eye was this one called Military Manouvres by Richard Thomas Moynan. I felt that it was speaking to me and telling me a story. The people in the painting were not mere images but real people. The painting is set in a small Irish town and the barefoot children are playing a game of being a marching band. There is an English officer walking along the pavement with his wife and trying to ignore the children who are taking the Mickey out of him. All apart from one at the front who is obviously their leader. This is obviously no game to him; this is deadly serious. He is looking directly at the officer with a look that seems to say. "Get out of my country," The girl in the forefront carrying the basket completes the triangle. She is looking at the kid’s leader as if she knows that one day he will get in a lot of trouble if he isn't careful. I was so taken with this picture that in the gallery shop I bought a print of it. Now it has pride of place in my living room. When we left the gallery, I found that all that culture had given me a thirst, so we went in O’Donoghue’s pub. On the way back to the hotel we walked past the Shelbourne Hotel and Kim said,

In O'Donoghue's

"I want to go in there",

"Why?"

"Glass of champagne, come on, Van might be in there".

We sat in these huge comfortable leather armchairs in the bar sipping champagne and pretending to be rich. I said to the barman that the chairs were so comfortable I could fall asleep, and he said that the Brazilian ambassador did fall asleep in my chair the day before. The Van concert the following night was mainly memorable for a Canadian guy demanding Listen To The Lion and Van singing it. The Helix in Dublin is a beautiful concert venue. It was also great to hear Raglan Road performed in it's hometown of Dublin.  This is the full setlist. All Blues (Miles Davis cover), Only a Dream, Meet Me in the Indian Summer, Sack O' Woe, How Long Has This Been Going On?, Bright Lights, Big City, In the Midnight, Cleaning Windows / Be-Bop-A-Lula, Allow Me, All Work and No Play, Raglan Road, Moondance, Have I Told You Lately, In the Afternoon / Raincheck, Listen to the Lion, Precious Time, It's All in the Game, Did Ye Get Healed? / Yeh Yeh.

The Helix.

I was glad we made the effort to see Van in Ireland. A couple of days later we were sailing away from Rosslare again after our too brief trip. The journey home was uneventful until we changed trains at Cardiff, and I left my ill-fated hat on the luggage rack of the train. When we arrived home at Westbury my hat was probably just pulling in at Paddington, and I never saw it again.

Twelve Dreams Of Dr. Sardonicus.

 I am listening to Twelve Dreams Of Dr. Sardonicus by Spirit which arrived recently.  It came about because a couple of weeks ago on the radio Marc Riley played a track by Spirit called Taurus and talked a bit about the band. It brought back memories for me, because in 1982 I met Randy California the guitarist and singer with Spirit. I was working for a pub landlord called Pee Wee Hunt from Trowbridge who was running the backstage bar at Glastonbury. I wasn’t taking my duties very seriously and was drinking at the bar. That’s where I met Randy. 

I don’t remember much about the conversation, but he was very amiable and bought me a drink and I insisted on buying him a brandy (rhymes with Randy) which he found quite amusing. With his curly hair and headband, he reminded me of Jimi Hendrix. Randy did play in Jimi’s band in 1966 and it was Jimi who gave him the name Randy California to distinguish him from another Randy in the group. There was another amusing incident that night because during Randy’s set the stage was plunged into darkness for about twenty minutes when the generator packed up. That was due to the genny operator being so stoned he forgot to put the fuel in the generator. The drummer Preston Heyman played a twenty-minute drum solo which the crowd clapped along with. You can find some of Randy’s Glastonbury set on Youtube. By the way, I got fired from my backstage job the following morning.

Randy California, Glastonbury 82

Anyway, a friend of mine whose views I respect told me that Twelve Dreams Of Dr. Sardonicus was one of his favourite albums. I agree, it is a great album. It was released in November 1970 and produced by David Briggs who was recommended to the band by Neil Young. David produced over a dozen of Neil’s albums. The production on this Spirit album is of the first order. There is so much going on in the mix. Spirit were Randy, guitar and vocals, Jay Ferguson – vocals, percussion, keyboards, John Locke – keyboards, Mark Andes – bass, vocals, and Ed Cassidy-drums.

The opening track Prelude/Nothing To Hide begins gently and acoustically, but then rocks out. The lyrics say “We are married to the same bride” the bride in question is music. Natures Way has a pleasant acoustic sound and is one of Spirit’s best-known songs. It was written in one afternoon and first played at the Fillmore West the same evening. There are two versions of Animal Zoo on this CD because it was also a single. It is a catchy song with the refrain “You’re much too fat and a little too long”. Love Has Found A Way has a rhythm track which David Briggs recorded, then played it backwards and they constructed the song over that. Why Can’t I Be Free only lasts a minute and leads into Mr Skin which is a tribute to their bald drummer Ed Cassidy. Space Child has exquisite piano and synthesiser playing by John Locke. When I touch You contains some very weird psychedelic sounds and on Street Worm Randy tries to emulate on guitar the saxophone playing of John Coltrane. Life Is Just Begun contains the lyric Hey Kiowa which is the name of an Indian clan and also a horse in Topanga Canyon. Morning Will Come features some beautifully arranged brass instruments. For the final track Soldier the band went into a studio which had a pipe organ. The majestic sound of this instrument is a fitting finale to this great album. There are also four bonus tracks of previously unreleased or different versions of the songs.

Shortly after making this album Ferguson and Andes left the group to form Jo Jo Gunne. Randy pursued a solo career, although different formations of Spirit emerged from time to time. Randy sadly died in Hawaii in 1997 at the young age of 45 while saving his son from drowning, but his legacy lives on. In the decades following it’s release Twelve Dreams Of Dr. Sardonicus has rightly come to be regarded as a classic album.

Marie Laforêt- Barbara Allen (1966)