Rock ‘n’ roll got a little less rock ‘n’ roll yesterday with the passing of the one remaining member of Mötorhead’s classic lineup, guitarist ‘Fast’ Eddie Clarke. Guitarist for the band’s first six albums, he was responsible for the killer riffs that defined the band’s sound – most famously the driving, ferocious riffing that is the foundation of the all-time, stone-cold classic ‘Ace of Spades’
There’s no point in trying to intellectualise a band like Mötorhead, and why bother? Their blast volume music crossed the punk/metal divide with ease, and the classic line-up of Lemmy, Phil ‘Philthy Animal’ Taylor and Fast Eddie created a rock ‘n’ roll legend the likes of which we will never see again.
So turn the volume up and enjoy their simultaneously silly and kick ass version of Johnny Kidd and the Pirates ‘Please Don’t Touch’, recorded with the queens of eighties metal, Girlschool (a collaboration amusingly titled Head Girl), and let us hope the three of them are creating a noisy racket in a rehearsal room somewhere in rock ‘n’ roll heaven right now…
RIP ‘Fast’ Eddie Clarke (1950-2018)
“To all who pass that they may see, Rock ‘N’ Roll was a part of me”
– Nik Cohn
I’ve been to a fair few extremely messy New Years Eve parties in my time (I don’t actually remember much of Millennium Eve, or NYE the year prior to that, to take but two hazy examples), which have usually ended up with me passing out on someone else’s sofa or floor in a total state – but I have never woken up the following morning in a snow drift wearing only one shoe and with an irate policeman bending over me!
Incoming hangovers notwithstanding, I hope none of you have either…
This rather fun postcard portrays those age-old questions asked by many of any January 1st in any year (“Where am I? Who am I? Who are you? What did I do last night? Ow, my head…”). You can almost see the regret in the poor man’s face. The card itself was made in Germany and posted in January 1912, making it 116 years old. Despite the cold and his imminently descending hangover (and possible arrest), I’m sure that this still-drunken early 20th century chap could teach us modern types a thing or two about partying!
While we’re all recovering from the excesses of the festive season, I’d like to wish you all (and those you love) a very happy New Year. Thank you to all my readers for your support and patience in 2017 – there is much more to come for everyone in 2018.
I wish you love, light and luck.
Stay safe and stay happy.
Click through on the image for more details and source information.
The sleigh got clamped and is languishing in dusty obscurity in a garage somewhere near the North Pole, and poor old Rudolph has been deemed surplus to requirements and has unceremoniously been given his P45. Why? Because Santa has decided to get bang up to date with his transportation this Christmas, and he’s bought a motor car. And just look at him go! Those presents will be delivered extra fast this year, although he better leave all those tempting glasses of sherry alone – Santa getting nicked for drink driving would just ruin Christmas…
Dealing with inclement weather at this time of the year is nothing new. We’ve had some snow in London already this December, but it’s unlikely to be a white Christmas here this year. The early 19th century was a chilly time, though, as illustrated by this witty 1821 etching by Richard Dighton from the Wellcome Library collection. This unfortunate chap has just had his fashionable top hat knocked into his eyes by falling snow being shovelled above – just as he passes a shop selling ice skates (I love the shop’s name: ‘Careless Skate Maker’. Not sure I’d want to be shopping there if I was wanting to get out on the ice!). This was obviously a common annoyance in a wintery 19th century London, and it didn’t matter if you were an elegantly dressed gentleman like this one – the snow would still get you!
It’s almost Christmas Eve. Wherever you are, and whether you have snow or not, keep safe and warm out there…
For links to more festive reading, click here!
It’s the day before Christmas Eve and I hope you’ve done all your shopping. Since it’s a Saturday too, high streets and shopping centres up and down the country will be buzzing with last-minute shoppers all day. Personally, that’s one of my more anxiety-inducing ideas of hell, and makes me glad I’ve done all my Christmas shopping, and all I have to do now is to stay in the warm and wrap the presents up (which, in its way, is a circle of hell in its own right – can someone PLEASE find the end of the Sellotape for me!?). I’m looking forward to Christmas Day when I can put my feet up and not have to think about anything!
This wonderful early example of stop-motion animation was made in Russia just before the First World War. A charming and quirky film, this is the work of the relatively unknown animation pioneer Wladyslaw Starewicz (1882-1965). Starting work in animation at least ten years before Walt Disney (who, as we know, grabbed all the headlines) and almost by accident, Starewicz produced films in Lithuania, Russia and France over a long career that lasted until his death in the mid-1960s.
His interest in insects ran alongside his interest in film, eventually resulting in works like The Insects’ Christmas. In 1910, he became Director of the Museum of Natural History in Kaunas (Lithuania), where he studied various bugs and beetles by filming their activities. This obviously inspired him, and these creepy-crawlies became insect puppets after their short lives were over, transforming into his stars in imaginative works like this.
Way back in 2010, I wrote a Christmas post examining how the festive season was celebrated in the 17th century. This was a period of great upheaval in British culture and society, especially in the aftermath of the Civil Wars and the execution of King Charles I. A Puritan government under Oliver Cromwell had taken over from the monarchy and implemented a new set of policies that weren’t always popular with the ordinary people.
Most notoriously, they banned the celebration of Christmas – as I wrote in the previous post, this really annoyed the people of London (and elsewhere), who simply carried on as usual when it came to enjoying the festivities, and even rioted when they could not! In return, London’s refusal to abide by the law thoroughly irritated the government, as this intriguing report from around 1650 (attributed to Cromwell himself) shows.
You may recall that I wrote an article on the cult American punk/alternative musician Bob Mould for the excellent Toppermost music site a couple of years ago. Now, it seems that my scribbles helped inspire my transatlantic friend Wayne Jessup to contribute too, with this fascinating article (and accompanying playlist) on the near-legendary Boston post-punk band Mission of Burma being published just this week.
It’s excellent stuff and well worth a read, especially if you’ve not encountered Mission of Burma’s music before (although 90s kids may remember that their ‘That’s When I Reach For My Revolver’ was covered by Moby on his 1996 Animal Rights album, and he certainly wasn’t the only one to cover the track. The original – and best – version is below). This is a band who may not be as well-known as perhaps they should be – but their influence has been quietly pervasive over the decades, inspiring a large proportion of the grunge and alternative rock bands who found fame in the 1990s. And you can’t really argue with that.
Time to jump in and find out more…
You can find more of Wayne’s writing at The Owl Mag and Burned All My Notebooks… What Good Are Notebooks – or follow him on Twitter here.
Back in early December 2014, I posted a video of Post Haste, a quirky little short film made for distribution to cinemas during World War Two, in order to encourage people to post early for Christmas – so when I found this wonderful image*, I had to revisit the subject. Anyway, you can look at it as a useful reminder if you’re as disorganised about Christmas as I am!
From the same era as Post Haste, this eye-catching illustration of an efficient-looking dog busily taking his festive parcels to the Post Office (in plenty of time, of course) sends a message that still has a resonance today, especially if you have friends and family who live abroad. Such festive reminders were commonplace during World War Two (you can see more examples of similar Christmas post-related home front propaganda here, here and here) when many people were separated from their loved ones for long periods by the effects of the conflict.
As with many things in life, I came across this somewhat bizarre little newsreel clip while I was looking for something else entirely (I was actually searching YouTube for videos of football being played in extreme weather – you can find my playlist of that here). When I saw this frankly odd snippet of film, I couldn’t resist posting it here for your enjoyment too!
Since we are in the midst of the Rugby Union Autumn Internationals and the Rugby League World Cup (England have reached the final!), it seemed like the perfect time to share this quirky look at what has to be one of the most unpleasantly cold and uncomfortably violent crossover sports imaginable (and I’ve played actual rugby. In the actual mud).
Filmed at the Streatham Ice Rink in south London (I honestly can’t see this type of game being played on the beautiful green reaches of the Twickenham pitch!), and, according to the narrator “a mixture of rugby and American footer”, this 8-a-side match between the Senators and the Royals doesn’t actually seem to have much in the way of tactics going on – unless you count falling over in a heap and shoving the opposition off the ice at 25mph as tactical play!