Paul McCartney - the Biggest Name Dropper I Know

I have a friend who was famous for a short during the 60s when the Beatles were an unknown group in Liverpool trying to make it big. We were once discussing those opportunities that could have changed our lives but as often happens, had slipped from our grasp. I mentioned the well-known story of Decca missing the chance to sign the Beatles in 1962. ‘That’s nothing,’ my friend said, ‘I can remember sitting in a cafe with John Lennon and Paul McCartney, while they tried to persuade me to sing their songs ... but they were nobodies and I wasn’t interested.’

I remember quite well at Primary School, on a coach back from London, discussing the groups we liked. I can recall everyone saying they liked Cliff Richard, but I said I thought the Beatles were good, and I had an idea that maybe they were even better than Cliff. It seemed radical at the time and caused a few looks of concern amongst my young class mates but, in retrospect, who was right I wonder?

I am of the generation that even now thinks Paul (and Ringo) are about to pop in for tea.  And when he does finally turn up, I will be able to ask him those things that have bugged me for the last 50 years. Such as, did you, George or John play guitar on Dr Robert? And did you get the idea for the riff from Mystery Train?  

I know it’s a well worn cliché but if you were not of the Beatle generation it is hard to understand how revolutionary the Beatles were; Beatle releases were the number one item on the BBC News.  All of us, (unless you were a Stones fan, of course) waited with baited breath to hear what new form a Beatles’ single would take, and you could almost guarantee that everyone’s response was pretty much the same. It went something like this, ‘Well it’s a bit different but I reckon after a few plays I’ll probably get to like it’.

The good or bad thing about those recordings was that over time, they attached themselves, limpet – like, to our psyche in such a way that now, the playing of any Beatle track immediately transports us back to the innocent days of our teens.

If I hear I Feel Fine, I’m reminded of Airfix model planes - I was making one when I dropped the glue on the single. 

If We Can Work it Out is sung, I can hear the corresponding response which was the schoolboy joke of that time. There’s a Place reminds me of switchback rides and the distorted speakers and sallow lights of the fairground.

Neil Aspinall talked loftily about the importance of preserving the Beatles creative output and not allowing it to be sullied by mixing it with adverts and the like. And it is true that a Beatle song, just like any good conjuring trick, can lose its magic once we know the secret of how it’s done. I remember figuring out how to play, I’ll Be Back, (nothing to do with Arnie) only to then think, ‘Oh, is that all it is?’ (Of course it’s a lot more, especially the first chord of that particular song – it’s not an A7)  On the other hand a close examination of many of the Beatles’ chord progressions can be a revelation. Take for instance, It’s for You, and, Love of the Loved, both Cilla Black hits.

I think it would be good for Paul, as part of his legacy, to explain how some of the early magic was created. And I don’t mean George Martin leaning over an enormous mixing desk, speaking in raptures about Tomorrow Never Knows, (not one of my favourites – glad it was the last track on the album as I could then skip it).

And of course to some extent, Paul’s recent video of Ever Present Past on YouTube and his Rude Studio tracks from Ram have done just that. Paul’s 70 now and we should not expect him to think and write with all the optimism and innocence that a teenager has, like us, he had to grow up. His own personal magic will have faded over time just as it does for all of us.

The friend I spoke of earlier also told me that when he’d played at the Cavern in the early 60s, an entrepreneurial Paul McCartney had turned up and given him a lift home in his car in an attempt to persuade him to get the Beatles work in London. Paul McCartney must have been around19 at the time, and he’s 70 today. Paul has survived but the car that drove him and also drives us, hasn’t.

10 ways Not to Submit Music to The Guitar Library!

You’d be surprised then amused, concerned maybe even confused if you were me, watching the email submissions for The Guitar Library, as they gaily flutter down into my computer in -box.

I’m always happy to receive as many as I do and as each one arrives, nothing pleases me more than the anticipation of reading the accompanying email and listen to a fresh original piece of music.

Sounds like an enviable job, you might say, I should be ecstatic - but often I’m not.  And here’s the reason why:

1. Read the advert. Quite often the sender has not read my advert or looked at The Guitar Library website but instead has relied on the ‘scatter gun,’ approach for distributing his music. I understand how it works, I’m sure that when I was submitting music there were times when I did the same thing. You know how it goes, ‘Oh well, he asked specifically for guitar music, but this electronic stuff that I do is great, and once he’s heard it, he’s bound to change his mind and realise how great my music really is.’ This is a bit like going into an exam with your one perfectly honed essay answer and trying to jerry-rig it to any essay question you like the look of, it just doesn’t work, does it?

2. Don’t send junk emails. When a generic email arrives addressed to no one in particular and then talks about how the band has just completed a world wide tour and is now seeking management etc, it’s obvious to me that the sender has not read my advert for guitarists or bothered to visit our website. Imagine if this really good looking girl or boy sent  you a letter suggesting you start a relationship (and one of the great things about The Guitar Library is the relationship we have with all our writers)  and you later find out that the letter was sent to all your friends too, you wouldn’t feel so good then, would you?

3. Location, location, location. This has nothing to do with music; it’s something that Estate Agents bang on about. However, what is important is:

4. Quality. Try and make the best recording you possibly can. Don’t think we won’t hear the coughs and unintentional bum notes, we will and so will the producer if we send it to him. So take time and make your tracks perfect. 

5. Top and tail your tracks. The first thing I do if I like a track is to put it into my DAW (digital audio workstation) and see if it starts at the beginning and ends at the end. Nearly always there is a few seconds of silence at the beginning and the same at the end which I edit out. Producers like their music to start at the beginning so that it can be synchronised correctly, so make sure any blank spaces are deleted.

6. Fade in, fade out. Don’t do this. If a producer chooses a piece of music for a programme he doesn’t want to find it fading out half way through his film clip. If he wants the music to fade, he can do it himself, so don’t start fading your track 3 seconds before the end, either end with a dead stop or just hold the last few notes and let them fade naturally.

7.      Think emotionally. The kind of music we require in The Guitar Library should be able to conjure up a specific mood immediately. Remember, a producer will probably be looking for something that’s lively, happy, sad, exciting or scary maybe. So keep that in the forefront of your mind when you are composing.

8.      Keep it real. Synthesised instruments were once de rigueur, but now anyone with half a brain can spot a guitar played on a synthesiser. If you’re sending music to The Guitar Library then use real guitars, bass and drums.

9.      What music should I write? The Olympics is upon us and we’ve had requests from BBC producers for the kind of music that is exciting and builds up as it progresses. If you want to write sports music then sit down with a note pad and watch sports programmes on TV. Make notes on how the music works with film. One thing that worked really well for me was to go to YouTube, find a piece of film then turn the music down and start writing. If you keep the volume up slightly so that you can hear the commentary, you will get a good idea of how much or how little you should be writing.

10. Finally If you’ve read all this and are keen to submit music then go to our website http://www.theguitarlibrary.co.uk/ and look at the Music Writers section. I look forward to getting a nice email from you. Good luck!

Top 10 Songs to Always Have Sex to

Music has the ability to affect our emotions, a certain tune or song will take us straight back to our teens and open doors to parts of our memory that we thought were forever closed.

My brother’s favourite song was Tammy by Debbie Reynolds, I can clearly remember both of us sitting on the doorstep while he sang it, I must have been 3 years old.  



An ape experiencing Kylie



The emotional response to music is not just something that humans alone experience. In the animal kingdom, the overtly promiscuous chimpanzee will become over stimulated if the appropriate music is played loudly during the morning in its cage. Extensive research by scientists at The Guitar Library - although still in an early stage – show chimps copulating at a far greater rate when exposed to Telly Savalas’ version of ‘If,’ or anything from the first Spice Girls’ first CD.

In my quest to bring music of a more esoteric nature to the general public, I have delved deeply into The Guitar Library’s archives and after months of exhaustive work, have come up with the following results:

1.      For married couples whose love life needs a bit of a boost nothing can beat the pounding bass and rhythmic tom toms of Apache Run

2.      For those of you on a first date, the smooth sound of Patrick Yandall and LC Squared works everytime

3.      For the men who are just to busy to find a partner and plan to fly solo, try Kanoodle by Tom Pile. It’s not sad, but you’ll need a lot of tissues.

4.      For the rock gods and goddesses who are about to take the plunge and get hitched, look no further than Michael Bishop’s Hendrix inspired Woodstock Wedding.

5.      For those of you who are a bit more adventurous, and like a good raunchy romp, try hopping round the bedroom to Bizzara by Page and Follet.

6.      Into a bit of dressing up or re-enactment? Why not don your doublet and hose and cuddle up to Jerry Page’s  tambour and horn in On the Green

7.      Into threesomes? Look no further than Duke-a-holics Anonymous

8.      Foursomes and above - of either sex? Paul Wood’s Camptown should do the trick
9.      Fancy your cousin and you feel the need to tell someone about it? Try Country Slut.

10. Hairy legs, smoke Capstan Full Strength and down a pint of real ale in one go? Then we have something for you and your husband, try My Own Mistakes. Enjoy!
If you have any better ideas, let me know!

Peter Green, Kim Gavin, Pythagoras, Cameron, the Queen or Olympics. Who's in tune with popular culture?

I watched the guitarist Peter Green, who once had the fastest vibrato in the East end, on TV the other day, and Carlos Santana came up in the conversation.
I’ve always been totally unimpressed by Carlos, mainly because his guitar often sounded painfully out of tune. When I say painfully, I don’t mean a lot, just enough to create the kind of finger nails on the blackboard effect, something that was also perfected by the singer, Sade, who during the 80s produced her own unique signature sound – flat.

This is not sour grapes, but it’s just that slightly out of tune music grates on the ears. That confirmed bachelor boy Cliff Richard agrees. I remember him complaining about the Beatles' guitars being out of tune and I think he’s right, though the culprit was Paul - listen to Mean Mister Mustard and all that.

So how do we appear as a nation? Are we in tune or not? Let’s look at the Olympics.

I read in The Telegraph that the Olympic ceremony is going to contain a fab 'mash up' of Adele and Elgar and Blur, but no Harry Styles ... can't wait. Kim Gavin the artistic director said, ‘We are trying to introduce something that is an absolute melting pot of British creativity.’ Scary stuff, reminiscent of white shag pile carpets, full blast central heating and steak and potatoes with thick globules of gravy.

However I thought I’d better take a bit more notice of Kim Gavin so I Googled his web page. First thing I saw was a picture of Kim, explaining something in a meaningful way to supplicating student, a student plus the obligatory Cirque de Soleil, white faced mime (Kim again?)
Then there’s a few testimonials (a couple of spelling mistakes, or maybe Gary Barlow can’t spell), a bit of crawling from Take That’s manager, a glaring typo, plus an enviable credit list as long as your arm with endorsements from those other purveyors of fine taste, the Royal Family.  

I’d like to blame disco Di for introducing her melee of pompadoured chums (Elton and the like) to the Royal Family but since before even Henry VIII’s jester Will Sommers and fashion guru Beau Brummel there have always been fools at court.
After all, when one is cooped up like battery hens in gilded cages it’s important to say, ‘hey, we’re still here, we've got our fingers on the pulse, we’re still trendy.’  Just like David Cameron,  an ordinary bloke who chillaxes while playing Angry Birds on his i-Pad. Perhaps everyone is in tune but me, although I like to think of it more in terms of an outbreak of Hans Andersen's Emperor's New Clothes.

So who’s in tune?

Pythagoras’ system of tuning was based on mathematics, whereas Carlos Santana’s appears to be based on cannabis.
The Royal Family (I see Louis Spence plays the Queen in the T-Mobile ad) attempt to be in tune but always end up looking tacky, (bouffant guitarists strutting on the top of Buckingham Palace – talking of which, here’s a chance for me to get a satirical plug, listen here.)

As for David Cameron, there are no bar chords on the Strat like Tony, his musical efforts amount to propping up the bar with a glass of white wine while clutching a Karaoke mike.

So that leaves Peter Green who in 1970 tuned his Les Paul through my first amp, a Selmer Zodiac.
Great guitarist, sublime and subtle, not a bum note in site. Now this was a man very much in tune with the times.

Davy Jones - Artist or Artful Dodger?

With the death of Davy Jones some of us of a certain age are reflecting on that short time in our youth during the 60s when Monkee mania flourished.



 

Looking back at the Monkees, it’s possible to see them as an example of human synergy, with the group being greater than the sum of its parts with the Monkees pop group outperformed even its best individual members. 

And that’s surely how it was intended to be, with each manufactured Monkee being chosen to represent a different aspect of the human character. Davy was always the cute brown haired one, Micky the zany curly haired one, Mike the dark haired intellectual silent one, a la George Harrison, and Peter, the zany blond one with an occasional scientific bent.

It was a fail-safe formula that worked well and was used to great success  in Simon Fuller’s construction of the Spice Girls: Scary – dark and frizzy, Baby Spice, the Davy Jones of the group etc .



Monkees- Pleasant Valley Sunday



However after now reviewing a video of Pleasant Valley Sunday, it’s hard to believe that within the group, a synergy existed at all.

Marble chewing Mike Nesmith is undoubtedly doing a good job of miming with a 12 string Gretsch to a Beatle inspired guitar riff, though it doesn’t sound like a 12 string to me, while Peter Tork seems to be confidently hammering the piano with fingers hitting the keys at all the right moments.

Micky Dolenz sings and plays the drums reasonably well too and everything seems to be moving along fine until we see Davy. Unfortunately Davy has been lumbered with bass playing duties as Peter is busy on the keyboards.

To be fair, Davy does attack the bass with gusto, dancing around with confidence and eyeing the other group members, but without much success at eye contact. With regard to his playing, there is a shot of Davy changing chords in time with the music, which is good, but often he tends to stop, reconsider, then start again, strumming the bass as if it’s an acoustic. Interesting stuff, bass presumably wasn’t his forte.  

So what did Davy Jones contributed musically to the Monkees? For a long time I thought Davy was the singer, he had all the right qualifications- floppy sleek hair, boyish grin and a fistful of big maracas. But then I realised that of course the majority of Monkee hits, Last Train to Clarkesville, I’m a Believer and Pleasant Valley Sunday were all sung by Micky Dolenz.

Davy’s contribution to the Monkees was not really a musical one, he started life as an actor, playing the role of Artful Dodger in the West End and Broadway for which he was nominated a Tony award. But besides his acting skills, what he added to the Monkees was firstly a raw cuteness and lovable innocence mixed with an endearing hybrid English accent, part Lancashire, part London, part posh.

Monkees - Daydream Believer

Secondly he sang Daydream Believer, which I still hum to myself every time I shave in the mornings. Thirdly we mustn’t forget he played a fine pair, well actually two pairs of maracas, clutching them in just one hand, a mean feat and not one to be frowned at.

We all realise that it is sad that Davy has died, but for those of us who never knew him it’s sad because he is another symbol of our finishing youth and a reminder that time moves on relentlessly.

So with that thought in mind, if you are a writer and have still not returned your contract to The Guitar library, don’t be a Davy Jones, do so now, or it might just be too late!

Rebekkah Brookes Plus Ten More Clever Horses

As a result of the enquiry into the News of the World phone hacking scandal it has emerged that in 2008, the Metropolitan Police gave News of the World editor, Rebekkah Brookes, a horse on loan. Here are ten other lucky or not so lucky horses:

1.  Incitatus - Caligula's horse, treated like a Prince during his lifetime and venerated as a God after his death
2.  Comet - Supergirl's pet horse who as boyfriend Bill Starr, dated both Supergirl and Lois Lane
3.  Trigger - a horse who could walk 50 paces on his hind legs
4.  Shergar - kidnapped in 1983 by masked gunmen, but never found
5.  Lucius - an ass turned into human form then initiated into the cult of Isis
6.  Clever Hans - a horse who could count and tell the time
7.  Kerry - a horse that saved it's owner from an enraged cow
8.  Tonk - a horse praised for saving a boy from a grizzly bear
9.  A solid gold rocking horse - purchased for £400,000 by Beyonce and Jay-Z for their baby, Blue Ivy Carter.
10.  Quick Draw McGraw (aka El Kabong) - a guitar playing horse famous for hitting his opponents on the head with a Spanish guitar, while shouting Kabonga.

El Kabong enjoyed hard hitting guitar music  His guitar was a Cuatro, a 4 stringed instrument tuned like a ukelele. It was an instrument used in a versatile fashion unique to him, so it's horses for courses, I guess!  

Christopher Plummer Oscar Winner Played with Two Large Breasts on the Piano

 

82 year old Christopher Plummer, who on Sunday night won his first Oscar ever for his supporting role in ‘Beginners,’ did not start out with the intention of being an actor.

Before achieving worldwide fame as Captain Georg Von Trapp, in the Sound of Music, Plummer spent his time dreaming of being a concert pianist while at school in Montreal. During those early formative years, Plummer once found himself accompanying the actress Diana Barrymore to an up market restaurant in Montreal. He recalled what happened next in his memoires, ‘In Spite of Myself’:

‘I boldly sat down at the piano, hoping to accompany Diana in a French song or two. She winked at me and took up the cue. As was her custom, she had decked herself out in a daringly revealing low-cut dress. In the middle of a song in order to emphasize a phrase, she made a sweeping theatrical gesture, miles over the top, when suddenly, not just one but two glorious breasts popped out in full view and stayed out for the rest of the number’.

Plummer’s musical career may well have continued if he hadn’t been pushed off the music stool by, ‘a big black guy with pants that were a bit too short for him.’ The black guy later turned into the legendary Canadian jazz pianist and composer, Oscar Peterson.

One other famous personality, whose record company had a penchant for a bare breasted women tumbling over themselves in disarray, as displayed on the cover of Electric Lady Land, and who was not unfamiliar with tinkling the ivories, was Jimi Hendrix.

Hendrix allegedly developed the track, ‘Spanish Castle Magic,’ around the jazz piano chord which follows the guitar riff played over the title.  With the help of producer Eddie Kramer pounding on the piano, the song eventually took shape.

Hendrix’s link with the piano and pianists in particular, does not end there. A large part of Jimi’s trademark rhythm style is undeniably influenced by another pianist with a similar name to his producer, Floyd Cramer.

A quick listen to the 1961 hit, ‘On the Rebound,’ and you can’t help notice a strong similarity to the hammer-ons as demonstrated by Hendrix, in tracks such as Bold as Love, Little Wing and Wait ‘til Tomorrow and Have you ever Been (to Electric Lady Land).

The attachment of Hendrix to the grand piano continued well after his death. In 2006 the Baldwin Hendrix Custom Grand Piano made its appearance on the scene.  

Bedecked on the outside with swirling psychedelic regalia and a huge squashed image of Hendrix’s head on the inside of the lid, this desirable limited edition was said by Gibson to, ‘fit beautifully into almost any home".  

Lucky for us piano playing was not Hendrix’s forte, when he died in 1970 he left us with a unique catalogue of work which has ever since profoundly influenced the playing of the modern day guitarist. Guitar playing comes in many styles, from gypsy jazz to 70’s rock, with each guitarist expressing their own unique view of life through the potency of the guitar strings. As Jimi said:

‘Nobody know what I'm talking about
I've got my own life to live
I'm the one that's gonna have to die
When it's time for me to die
So let me live my life the way I want to.


CUUPP6HGVAP7

2012 Me and the MPA Publishers Briefing, London

Would Sir Paul be there and would he recognise me, a Beatle fan for over 40 years? That was my first thought, quickly followed by, when is he going to sort out the variegated lead flashing at mpl, Soho Square?

There were five of us crowded into the lift with MPA executives rehearsing their scripts and witty introductions as we arrived on the sixth floor.

As for the presentation, it seems that we fishes are all working in a big sea and had better keep abreast of changes to stay afloat – sort of, what with Turkey defaulting and Spain and David Cameron up to no good.
Fellow music publishers exchanging hurdles, aspirations and successes was the highlight of the evening.

Be prepared to morph or risk turning to stone as the internet has well and truly come and free downloads are here to stay.  As my new friend Tom said, all our children are thieves so adapt and find a way round it or prepare to be archived.

Do we care about Whitney?

Do we care about Whitney? As the world slides into recession, somewhere in a hotel in America another star fizzles out in the great pop firmament, while from the comfort of our TV rooms, we idly observe another example of the rich and famous getting their just deserts.

The TV tells us the number one death for a rock star is still a heart attack closely followed in second place by drug overdose, while holding in there for the third week running, is suicide.

Like all of us, rock stars create and cling on desperately to their own version of reality, if it’s not McCartney believing that singing into Nat King Cole’s microphone well give him more of the same, then it’s Elvis, Hendrix, Joplin and Jackson, driving their desire for love and adoration with a mouthful of booze and pills. As one star crashes and burns, we watch with amusement smugly sipping our gin and tonics, anaesthetised by our unreal reality TV, as another X-factor wannabe squeaks, ‘Please, Simon, it’s all I’ve ever wanted, let it be me, it’s what I live for ...’

The choice is still ours; well that’s what they tell us, it’s the people’s vote. Do we care? It’s showbiz, theirs is an unreal world, what’s it got to do with us?

So press the red button and we get Mark Bolan, the 20th Century Boy singing:

‘Friends say it's fine, friends say it's good
Ev'rybody says it's just like rock'n'roll’.

But press the green button and we get a blast from that 17th Century Donne of rock:

‘Any man's death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.’

A ah huh!

Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, Mitch Mitchell ... and me!

A long time ago, I met Mitch Mitchell (Jimi Hendrix Experience drummer). We’d ear bashed Mitch the night before when our local group supported the group; it ws the year Hendrix had died and Mitch was now turning his hand to managing managing a group called Flying Fortress. It was a funny thing, the audience were mainly kids from our school, in tie-dyed T shirts and loon pants, and there was Mitch, his roadie, Wayo (a Jimi look-alike) dressed more for Woodstock than our local village hall.
Anyway, we wangled the invitation to his house for a jam, and the next morning got the bus arriving at 9 o’clock prompt. No one was up, we were surprised, how could this be? Perplexed we wandered around the grounds until we finally located his roadie who muttering something under his breath, swiftly deposited us in Mitch’s studio.
It was de rigueur for all 60s pop stars to have fancy cottages in the country, swimming pools and studios, and Mitch’s pink house, of course, was no exception. I remember how the studio walls gleamed,  a real studio. Inside it just got better. Flight cases, heaped in a pile greeted us as we entered. Mitch’s black Gretsch double bass drum kit was already set up and gleaming,  while at the end of the room stood Jimi's Marshall stacks, ready and waiting, complete with grooved cabinets where Jimi had driven his guitar across the front. JH EXP was stencilled in white on the back, it was a dream come true, somehow we’d joined the Jimi Hendrix Experience! 
Mitch's roadie threw back the lids of the flight cases and started tossing out Univibes and Fuzz Faces and black, curly guitar leads, it was real treasure trove. Snugly tucked inside was a brand new Telecaster, gleaming cream with a maple neck, not a Strat, a Tele. Jimi Hendrix had played one once, I’d seen a picture. I was given another Tele to play, one that given by Jimi to Mitch Mitchell as a present, which I suppose was lucky, considering Jimi was left handed.
Mitch’s roadie trundled off and me and my friend, who was a drummer, were left to jam all afternoon, playing our versions of Rainbow Bridge, loudly.  In all fairness I spent most of the time getting electric shocks from the amps that weren’t rated for English current, but somehow it didn’t matter, at the time it all seemed worth it.
As the afternoon passed,  there was still no sign of Mitch, we found out he'd gone off for a drive in his Mini, so we wandered about his house looking for food, but couldn't find any.
Later that evening he returned with the bass player, from Blind Faith, Rick Grech.  We were a little concerned as time was moving on and we were about to miss the last bus home. All the same, I decided to broach Mitch’s earlier suggestion of a jam. ‘Later, maybe,’ he said, followed by, 'I was going to get Eric, but he was asleep. ‘Eric? What? the Eric?  So why hadn’t he come? Had he heard about my guitar prowess and chickened out at the last minute, saying he felt a bit stuffed up and chesty with a cold? No, it turned out that Eric Clapton was still tucked up in bed - far too sleepy.
The jam session Mitch had planned for all of us, Eric included, never happened, Mitch did show us his new quadraphonic speaker system and we didn’t have to worry about the bus as we got a lift home in his Rolls Royce.One thing of interest I learnt was that most of Jimi’s guitars were now with Eric Clapton, including his Flying V, apparently he collects them well that's what he says, anyway.