If you are a fellow aficionado of cheap and cheerful Northern Soul compilations you will know one of the downsides is that certain tracks crop up again and again, which is often a price worth paying to get unexpected or lost gems. One of the repeat offenders is Laura Greene’s ‘Music, Moonlight and You’, which is fine by me as I am incredibly fond of the spoken introduction, where Laura asks: “Oh, by the way, did you bring your guitar?” It is so gloriously incongruous: just that one mention of a guitar. And, being built that way, one day when Laura’s song was on my mind, I got to thinking about other compositions where guitars are mentioned incidentally. I was surprised that, of the ones that sprang to mind, a lot of them were by favourite artists. I really am not quite sure what that proves.
Quite correctly ‘Music,
Moonlight and You’ is a perennial favourite on the Northern Soul scene. Laura Greene
herself, as well as being a fine singer and an actress, in photos looks an incredibly
beautiful lady. Her signature tune was written and produced by Teddy Vann, one
of those names you know but may not be sure where from. I am pretty certain I
first came across Teddy via his ‘Theme from Colouredman’, which was on Capitol
Soul Casino, quite possibly the first Northern Soul compilation I bought
way back when. He may be best known for the gloriously fierce ‘Love
Power’, as recorded by the brilliant Sandpebbles and then by Dusty.
Laura released her
version of ‘Music, Moonlight and You’ in 1967 on the flipside of an impressive
gallop through the old Mickey Baker and Sylvia Robinson hit ‘Love is Strange’. ‘Music etc.’ originally was recorded by Teddy
with The Essex.. Oddly The Essex asked if their lover had brought a
radio rather than a guitar along, which for me really doesn’t work, but there
you go. Teddy must have loved Laura’s backing track so much (bet it was that
‘Young at Heart’-anticipating violin break) that he used it several times,
including for Frankie & the Classicals’ majestic ‘What Shall I Do’.
So, anyway, what
other songs have incidental mentions of guitars? This is based around a list I
made of ones that I thought of, without trying too hard, partly because making
lists can be a fun way to waste time, as Buddy says in Barry Gifford’s Wild
at Heart. The one that perfectly fits with Laura’s intro is ‘Gypsy Woman’
by The Impressions with that beautiful lady with hair as dark as night dancing around
to a guitar melody, with her face all aglow from the campfire. Then, still in
soul mode, there’s Dobie Gray’s immortal ‘Out on the Floor’ with the beat light
and bright and the guitars a-ringin’.
I was going to add ‘It
Will Stand’, but I nearly forgot that in the original by The Showmen there’s
saxes blowin’ sharp as lightning, and it wasn’t until Jonathan Richman covered
it that the guitars came in a-twanging. It was these lyrics Alan Horne
memorably included in his life-changing 1981 Postcard Brochure alongside those
of ‘Do You Believe in Magic?’. There was a 1977 Lovin’ Spoonful double LP set I
had, part of Pye’s File Series, where John Tobler in his sleevenotes
argued that there had only been two songs that lyrically captured the elusive essence
of music’s power, and that these were ‘It Will Stand’ and ‘Do You Believe in
Magic?’ What’s the betting Alan and the Postcard cats had a copy of that
compilation as well?
On a Postcard
tangent, my favourite ‘guitar-referencing’ song is ‘Red Guitars’ by The
Bluebells, which is a wonderful call-to-arms that’s captured on full power sung
by the ultra-cool Russell Irvine on the essential Cherry Red collection of
early Bluebells demos etc., with its ‘Red Flag’ intro and suggestion of
‘Capital Radio’ coda. Incidentally, mention of ‘Red Guitars’ makes me think of
Adrian Henri’s ‘Mrs Albion You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter’ with its “beautiful
boys with bright red guitars in the spaces between the stars.” And there’s that
Malcolm McDowell line Michael Bracewell loves to quote about being on a bus
going to Lime Street station around 1960, and looking down into a shop window,
and seeing red electric guitars: “They gave you hope, somehow.”
Eternally I will associate
red guitars with Edinburgh’s Fire Engines and their frontman Davy Henderson
playing a red Fender Jaguar strapped high and tight. I don’t remember any Fire
Engines songs mentioning guitars, but one of Davy’s later artistic projects,
the Nectarine No. 9, did have a compilation released through the
recalled-to-life Postcard called Guitar Thieves. This featured a cover
of the Velvets’ ‘Inside Your Heart’ which sadly I don’t think mentioned Martha
& the Vandellas. But, to his eternal credit, Davy did later sing: “I slept
with the Subway Sect. The Subway Sect slept with me. In the back of
a Fender Jaguar. Under a decaying tree.” This was in the glorious ‘End of
Definition’, a right old racket, featuring Josef K’s visionary Malcolm Ross.
Davy’s always kept a
little Marc in his heart, so it is worth mentioning the old T. Rex b-side ‘King
of the Mountain Cometh’ with its wild witch wizard from Esher playing his song
on a Fender guitar. And Jonathan Richman sang an ode to the Fender Stratocaster,
but that’s too blatant for us here. We, however, can allow his tribute to the
Velvets with its lines about a Fender bass’ spooky tone and the band’s twanging
sounds of the cheapest type.
Still on a Postcard
theme, Roddy Frame urged us to grab that Gretsch before the truth hits town. I
never rated Dennis Greaves’ The Truth either. Were there any Orange Juice songs
mentioning guitars? Hmm. Could you count ‘Satellite City’ where the OJs leapt
onstage though they couldn’t play? And Edwyn Collins gets a consolation prize here
for using ‘incidentally’ in a song. The only other one I can think of
immediately is The Faces’ ‘Cindy Incidentally’. Plus, there’s Edwyn’s later
‘Campaign for Real Rock’ and its mention of the smashed guitar ritual. The song’s
references to ‘Rag Mama Rag’ and a “raggle-taggle gypsy” also ring a bell for
some reason.
As for those Postcard
phantoms and archetypes, Subway Sect, there is that line in ‘A Different Story’
about making guitars talk information, and the band’s line in interviews at the
time was about wanting to end rock music. As was pointed out in a review of Vic
Godard’s What’s The Matter Boy? for the short-lived New Music News
in the summer of 1980 by one Bill Lee (or rather Steve Walsh moonlighting from
Manicured Noise) the irony was that Subway Sect were all along “roots
enthusiasts”. Vic later mentioned “Jimi’s guitar” in the wonderful ‘Americana→Fire’
from the 2002 Sansend set, a record which opens with a reference to Dean
Parrish’s ‘Bricks, Broken Bottles and Sticks’. Or am I making that up?
There is a Bernard
Rhodes / Oddball connection between Vic and Dexys Midnight Runners whose Kevin
Rowland spoke out against those noisy and crude guitars on ‘Let’s Make This
Precious’. And apologies for this digression, but that same incarnation of
Dexys had, at the end of their tumultuous 1982, a hit with the excellent ‘Let’s
Get This Straight from the Start’, featuring the Brothers Just on backing
vocals. Being particularly slow on the uptake, I have only recently realised
this is in name almost the Just Brothers, coincidentally or not, of ‘Sliced
Tomatoes’ immortality, the track that features what I would call the best
guitar work in Northern Soul. Vic Godard has said it may have been this track
and its seeming proximity to ‘Nobody’s Scared’ that inspired him to adapt that
song into ‘Instrumentally Scared’ which opened proceedings when Subway Sect
played their Northern Soul set live in March 1980.
Again, I have to
confess to being remiss in not realising (or rather strongly suspecting) that
the Brother Just Jimmy Thomas who appeared on Top of the Pops with Dexys
performing ‘Let’s Get This Straight’, and who really got into the spirit of
things, was the same Jimmy Thomas who recorded ‘Where There’s a Will’ for
Mirwood in 1966 and, when later living in the UK, wrote and recorded ‘The
Beautiful Night’, both of which are cherished Northern Soul favourites. Jimmy
also, I think, appeared with Dexys on a 1982 TV Christmas special performing
Slade’s ‘Merry Christmas Everybody’ (something which, pre-YouTube, I suspected
I had dreamed up) as well as ‘Let’s Get This Straight’.
They were introduced on
the show by David Essex, which is apt as I have recently read on the Backbeat
site, in an obituary of Jimmy, that it’s him doing the profound bass “James
Dean” aside in David’s ‘Rock On’. So, if that’s right, then it makes sense that
it’s Jimmy who is the conversational foil to Kevin Rowland on ‘Reminisce (Part
One)’ and who utters the immortal line: “New York? Man, that’s 3000 miles due
west?” God, I love that song. And I know what Kevin meant about how you learn from
experiences like these: “You know what I’m talking about”. Please do bear in
mind, this may all be wrong, and maybe hordes of Dexys disciples have
already said all this before much better.
Anyway, you can’t
reference Bernie Rhodes and not mention the Special A.K.A.’s ‘Gangsters’ with its
threat of guitars being confiscated. Interestingly Bernie’s old boys seemed to
excel at songs about the pop process, in the spirit of The Byrds’ ‘So You Wanna
Be a Rock & Roll Star’ and getting an electric guitar and taking some time
to learn how to play, which sort of links to The Clash’s ‘Garageland’ and its
five guitar players sharing one instrument back in the garage.
It's easy enough to
think of other Clash songs mentioning guitars, which perhaps doesn’t help us
fight against the group’s tiresome detractors. So, there’s Joe bellowing
“You’re my guitar hero” in ‘Complete Control’ while on the flip of ‘Clash City
Rockers’ there’s the ‘Jail Guitar Doors’ going “clang clang”, just like the
early Subway Sect’s discordant sound. I guess you could argue ‘Stay Free’ fits
in here, with Jonesy practising daily in his room, while ‘Hitsville UK’
definitely does with its stolen or used guitars. Then there’s the “public
service announcement with guitars” at the start of the superb ‘Know Your
Rights’. Hands up who’s still got their sticker? And anymore for anymore?
Probably.
Of their
contemporaries there’s The Jam with that guitar-shaped swimming pool in ‘To Be
Someone’ and in ‘When You’re Young’ Paul Weller’s falling in love with any
guitar and any bass drum. At the time of their symbolic split there was ‘Beat
Surrender’ with Paul vowing to come running to the sound of your strumming.
Ironically, by the time he sang that on Top of the Pops, he had put his
guitar away for a memorable dance-off with Tracie. And there’s the rub, because
most of the performers mentioned so far would define themselves as being
anti-rockism or combatting rock while the guitar is too often seen as a symbol
of solid rock music.
“Never listen to
electric guitar,” said the Talking Heads in the surreal ‘Electric Guitar’,
while The Members’ Nicky Tesco (when he was a doppelganger for Frankie Abbott
from Please Sir!, no less) sang about the proverbial Johnny sitting up
in the dark of his suburban bedroom “annoying the neighbours with his punk rock
electric guitar” in the classic hit ‘Sound of the Suburbs’.
I feel obliged to
mention that Ziggy also played guitar, though I was more an Alvin fan when it
came to Stardust. As a kid, I recall tossing up whether to buy Bowie’s ‘Rebel
Rebel’ or Alvin’s ‘Jealous Mind’ with my 10th birthday present money
in Welling’s Ajax record and electricals shop. ‘Jealous Mind’ won, and its
b-side was a number called ‘Guitar Star’ (both songs, incidentally, were written
by Peter Shelley, though of ‘Love Me Love My Dog’ fame rather than the ‘Love
You More’ one, I hasten to add). I must confess I didn’t think ‘Guitar Star’
was in the same league as ‘Jealous Mind’ or ‘My Coocachoo’, but it has a
certain charm now in a very Elvis sings Jerry Reed’s ‘Guitar Man’ meets the
Lovin’ Spoonful’s ‘Nashville Cats’ playing clean as country water or those
D-I-Y enthusiasts with their washboards in ‘Jug Band Music’.
Sticking with the
pre-punk 1970s, another favourite incidental mention of guitars is in Mott the
Hoople’s ‘All the Way to Memphis’ with Ian Hunter singing about losing his “six-string
razor”. At the time I was probably too young to really appreciate Mott (at
least in the way Mick Jones did: an early Guy Stevens connection there!) but loved
the hits like ‘Honaloochie Boogie’, ‘Roll Away the Stone’, and especially ‘The Golden
Age of Rock & Roll’ which I guess is where I first heard of rockabilly.
It was not until the late 1980s that I realised
that the classic rockabilly party aside is a reference to the 1950s Hugo &
Luigi hit ‘Rockabilly Party’ which I first heard on, I think, a Stuart Colman radio
show on Capital. His programme back then was always worth catching, and I
recall one night hearing Stuart read out an arcane request from the late great Penny
Reel. Stuart is perhaps best known for producing Memphis’ ‘You Supply the
Roses’, the one-off single by James Kirk and Steven Daly on Alan Horne’s
Swamplands label. Many years later, unexpectedly, we would find James walking
down his strasse with his old Stratocaster singing ‘Any Old Iron’ on his
supremely cool Marina LP You Can Make It If You Boogie.
No doubt, by this
stage, those who know me will have been waiting for a mention of Hurrah! and
their classic line about waking up to the smell of fresh cut grass, with those jangling
guitars in Paul Handyside’s ears: the sound of the end of summer 1982 in all
its magnificence. It still sounds great to me. It would be many years before I
saw Kitchenware’s promo film for ‘The Sun Shines Here’ in all its ragged suede
jacket, distressed white jeans and ‘Do You Believe in Magic?’ autoharp glory.
It features ‘guitar hero’ Taffy Hughes pre-Fender Jaguar, though it is worth
adding his handsome red model is still going strong, and featured prominently
in recent very special performances he played, with soulmate Sylvia Hughes as The
Girl With The Replaceable Head. Ah life.
Also, from that early
phase of Hurrah!, there’s ‘Saturday’s Train’ where Paul sings about how, for a
moment, he thought he heard the phone ring, then realised it was just his
12-string. Easy mistake to make: “The beat is hot and bright, guitars are
ringin',” as Dobie Gray memorably sang on the title track of Neil Rushton’s
Inferno Records Northern Soul compilation, which was such a big part of my
musical education at the start of the 1980s and, with the emerging Kent LPs and
old folk rock or ’60s garage sounds, plus inevitably the Velvets, helped shape
the way ahead post-punk, for some of the artists and audience alike.
A big part of the new
scene were the Jasmine Minks, on Creation Records, and on the title track of their
Scratch the Surface LP Jim Shepherd sings about needing to play his
guitar in the street. For some reason, in my mind, that always connected with Pete
Townshend’s line about taking out his guitar and playing just like yesterday on
‘Won’t Get Fooled Again’, but we are getting into the realm of classics there which
I tend to have conflicted feelings about. I must mention, however, The Beatles’
‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps’, and particularly the gorgeous Damon & Naomi
version. I also completely love Simon & Garfunkel’s ‘Homeward Bound’ with
Paul Simon travelling with his suitcase and guitar in hand.
For me, a true pop
classic is The Accidents’ ‘Blood Spattered with Guitars’, a one-off single from
1980 on the band’s own Hook, Line n’ Sinker label. I vaguely, and maybe
inaccurately, recall reading about the band in the mod fanzine Maximum Speed
in a mini article with the irresistible heading ‘Accidents Will Happen’ then
heard the single just the once on John Peel, but never found a copy until many
years later, and that was for pennies which was a sweet feeling after all that
time.
It is such a great
song, vaguely predicting the future sound of Hurrah! as noted in YouTube comments
(not by me!), and reportedly the title refers to the band’s singer Terry Ruffle
(who sadly died a few years back) continuing to play his guitar after cutting
his hand on the strings, and at the end of the set having a blood-spattered
white guitar. It echoes a story Viv Albertine tells in her memoir about going
to watch Subway Sect very early on and seeing guitarist Rob Symmons also continuing
to play with blood pouring from his hand. Rob himself refers to this in the
incredible second part of his Subway Sect story in the Summer 2024 issue (no. 66)
of Ugly Things which comes with some wonderful photos.
On a mod-related
theme, I used to have an old joke about that line in Dire Straits’ ‘Sultans of
Swing’ where Guitar George knows all The Chords, and how this was hardly
surprising given the shared Deptford and wider South London connections. Oh
well, please yourselves. Deptford’s favourite sons, ATV, in their big hit
‘Action Time Vision’, argued that chords and notes don’t mean a thing. This, in
my view, is such a classic mod song. And appropriately, it turns out that it
was someone who used to be part of The Action’s inner circle, the journalist
Nick Jones, who provided the link between Mark Perry and Miles Copeland in the
early days of punk. So, there you go. Additionally, in ATV’s cover of the
Mothers of Invention’s ‘Why Don’t You Do Me Right’ Mark can be heard calling
out “guitar, guitar, guitar, guitar”. I have just realised, snob that I am, that
I have never heard Zappa’s original.
Tangentially, on an
ATV theme, Lawrence, way back when he was in Denim, in his hit ‘Middle of the
Road’ rages against “riffs and guitar licks” before concluding: “It’s your
right to choose who you listen to. It’s your rock 'n' roll.” That has always,
maybe misguidedly, reminded me of ATV’s ‘You Bastard’ and Perry’s plea to leave
his rock 'n' roll alone.
There are, I am sure,
many more songs with incidental guitar mentions, some of which I am aware will
be favourites and many more which undoubtedly would not be for me. While
writing this, I suddenly thought of ‘Warm Love’ and the line about bringing
your guitar along when we go with Van Morrison to the country to lay and laugh,
sing and have some fun in the sun, which I suppose brings us nicely back to
where we came in with Laura.
Incidentally, Kevin, your latest post reminds me of my love of the well placed adverb in pop lyrics. I’m sure it comes from Vic saying he puts in words that you would never normally hear in a song. And from his wonderful pronunciation of ‘particularly’ in Ambition. Similarly, Cope’s delivery of ‘consequentially’ is the high point of Treason. But my all time favourite example has to be Forster’s immortal ‘remembered your name, evidently you’ve forgotten mine’. One of the greatest lines ever?
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