Fifty Twelve Inches #40

Barney (….and Me) – The Boo Radleys (1994, Creation Records)

My daughter has just asked this question of my wife,

“What was Dad like when he was younger?”

We’ve had this discussion before, but it’s come up again because when the finger of fate was ordered to stop it was hovering against one of three Boo Radleys twelve inches that sit in the vinyl cupboard – we will cover the other two in a bit, but if you are a regular reader of this blog you can probably guess one of them.

Anyway, I pull the record out and smile and show my wife what it is and she smiles as well.  When we much younger and just getting to know each other, my wife and I bounded over a few shared musical interests, The Cure Chumbawamba, Ride for three but it was The Boo Radleys and in particular their album ‘Giant Steps’ that soundtracked the early stages of our relationship.  It would play away on her crappy cassette player whilst we sat in her room, smoking cigarettes, drinking K cider, and discussing whether Ivan Illich was mad or not – he was by the way, absolutely bonkers.

I’ve just told my daughter all that (well I left out the drinking and smoking bit, I said we ate toast and did our homework) and that has lead to the question above.  Here is my wife’s response to it,

“Well, rather like he is today, but back then he had more hair, better jokes, looked less tired and had better dress sense”.

All of which is absolutely true, especially the hair and the jokes.  My hair used to flow beautifully to my shoulders and then sometimes down a bit further.  Nowadays it kind of just sits on my head, short, full of gaps and looking unkempt, like a bad privet hedge on a rough council estate.

The less said about my jokes the better to be honest, but if you need proof, here’s one I stole from somewhere and repeated back to my family over dinner, I promise I didn’t write this

“I got a new stepladder yesterday.  My original ladder left when I was nine”

Well, it made me laugh.

My twelve inch of ‘Barney (…and Me)’ was purchased from a record shop in Canterbury, probably the much missed Parrot Records I suspect and came backed with three other tracks

Tortoiseshell – The Boo Radleys (1994, Creation Records)

Zoom – The Boo Radleys (1994, Creation Records)

Cracked Lips, Homesick – The Boo Radleys (1994, Creation Records)

All of which are pretty good. There are two other Boo Radleys twelve inches in the cupboard.  The first will come as no surprise, it being ‘Lazarus’.  A song that I utterly adored (and actually one that I stuck on straight after ‘Barney (…and Me)’ had finished.   The twelve inch version of ‘Lazarus’ remains a thing of utter beauty.

Lazarus – The Boo Radleys (1993, Creation Records)

The other one is a promo I got sent when I was DJing at University, despite the fact that its pretty dancefloor unfriendly.  It’s the second single to have been lifted from the bands fifth album ‘C’mon Kids’.  The album version winds it was over six minutes, and is totally ace.

Ride The Tiger – The Boo Radleys (1996, Creation Records)

Here is the no more than five word review

“Dad has rubbish hair now”

Here is the eleven year old recommendation, which isn’t that bad to be honest,

Von Dutch – Charli XCX (2024, Atlantic Records)

This week I have been listening to a new Krautrock compilation album that has just been released on Compost Records.  It’s amazing obviously and has already been added to Nearly Perfect Shortlist. 

Krautwickel – Lucas Croon (2024, Compost Records)

The Best 40 Crossover Tracks – #7 Crappy Little Cassette Player

7. Something Good – Utah Saints (1992, London Records)

When I first met my wife at University, she didn’t have a CD Player.  She owned a battered old cassette player, which she said she got in the Woolworths Sale for “Under a Tenner”.  We would sit in her room drinking tea, smoking Marlboro cigarettes and playing cassettes on the battered old player.  Her music tastes were eclectic, one evening she would be listening to The Cure or Chumbawamba.

Give The Anarchist A Cigarette – Chumbawamba (1993, One Little Indian Records)

And the next I would turn up and find her bopping around her room to rave music.  In some ways, I have her to thank for introducing me to so much decent music, music that I would have almost certainly have dismissed as being terrible, had she not have constantly played them on her crappy little cassette player. 

There are, obviously, according to her, several records that should have been in this Top 40 that I have “stupidly overlooked”.  Like these three for instance,

Perfect Motion (Boys Own Mix) – Sunscreem (1993, Annalogic Music) – the debut album from Sunscreem ‘03’ was one of several albums that she managed to wear the tape out by so much.  I have a feeling that the Boys Own Mix of ‘Perfect Motion’ was pretty much the only Sunscreem track that featured in one of my sets, due to me having it on a compilation CD.

Lazarus (Secret Knowledge Mix) – Boo Radleys (1995, Creation Records) – Had the indie disco been a disco where the only people in attendance where my wife and I then this would be a given – if that were the case I very much doubt that I’d be telling you about it – but as it isn’t no one ever danced to ‘Lazarus’, regardless of how wonderful the mixes of it are.

Encore Une Fois (Original 12 Mix) – Sash! (1996, High Fashion Music) – At the start of our final year at University, I bought my wife a new stereo, with a CD Player on it (because her old one got stolen as part of a burglary in 1996).  The first CD she ever played on it was ‘It’s My Life’ by Sash!.

There is, as ever, a point to this, my wife (or girlfriend as she was back then), always knew which tracks would do well on the dancefloor.  She would often, fuelled by Malibu or Vodka, stroll into the DJ Booth, and drag out a load of records and CDs and place them in the order that they needed playing.  I never argued and she was nearly always right.

She was right about ‘Something Good’ by Utah Saints for a start, then again, its easy to see why it was so popular.  The way that keyboard chirps away as the Kate Bush sample fires away.  It’s a feel good track and really easy to dance too.   It’s one of the few records in my collection (or actually in this case, CDs) that superstar DJ Del would incorporate into his own sets – presumably he left his copy of the track somewhere.  Anyway, I could never work out if having a dancefloor containing about 100 people all chanting “U-U-U Tah Saints” at me whilst this song builds to its famous crescendo was cool or not.  Probably, they were all just glad to be doing something other than studying because as far as I can remember, that song doesn’t even include that chant.

See Also – What Can You Do For Me? – Utah Saints (1992, London Records) and

I Want You – Utah Saints (1992, London Records)

For much the same reasons as I have detailed above, plus ‘I Want You’ sampled Slayer and that kept Benjamin happy.

A Creation Records Countdown – #15 – Boo Radleys

I don’t need a fuel injected car

Points 94

Highest Rank 6^th    

Lowest Scoring Rank 15^th  

Ride The Tiger (album version) – Boo Radleys (1996, Creation Records, Taken from ‘C’Mon Kids’)

I’ve sort of touched upon this before, but the first time I ever heard ‘Giant Steps’ by the Boo Radleys I was sitting next to a radiator in a student bedroom in Guildford.  I had a cup of tea to my left, a plate of Battenburg cake to my right and just beyond that sat my girlfriend who was smoking a full strength Marlboro out of the window. 

“Put some music on if you want” she told me.  I suspect she’d seen me casting an eye over her small cassette collection that littered up her bookshelf.  She had no record player and she had no CD player, all her music was on cassette.  I reached up and grabbed one of them, I didn’t look until the actual tape was in my hand.  It was ‘Giant Steps’ and it soundtracked several marvellous afternoons and evenings in that small room. It’s still one of my favourite albums as it happens.

I Hang Suspended – Boo Radleys (1993, Creation Records, Taken from ‘Giant Steps’)

The first time I heard ‘Wake Up’ I was with the same person.  This time we’d been to Hempstead Valley Shopping Centre during an Easter trip to my dads house.  I’d just treated her to a slap up Burger King lunch and now we were browsing the shops.  We walked into Our Price and spent a good half an hour just looking at stuff and then she bought ‘Wake Up’ on cassette – she still only had a cassette player you see. When we got home, we played it in the lounge until my dad got home from the pub and decided that we should order a Chinese instead.

Find The Answer Within – Boo Radleys (1995, Creation Records, Taken from ‘Wake Up!’)

And with the exception of a couple of songs (one rather obvious one), it’s a very good record that soundtracked most of the drive back to Guildford and the one that we listened to as we sat our end of year exams.

The first time I heard ‘C’mon Kids’ I was sat in the lounge of a small flat in Plumstead.  An empty stereo box sat on the table and just to the right of that sat a wooden cabinet and on the middle of that cabinet sat a brand new CD player.  I’d carried it home in a black bin bag from the Sony shop in Woolwich High Street and plonked it down – unboxed it and plugged it in.  I’d then handed the same girl the first CD she’d ever owned.  A week later some fucker burgled our house and stole the CD player.

What’s in the Box (see whatcha got) – Boo Radleys (1996, Creation Records, Taken from ‘C’mon Kids’)

When the band released ‘C’mon Kids’ they reported lost themselves 100,000 fans in about a month and went back to being something of a cult band.  It was a record that was purposedly difficult and uncommercial sounding.  It was a record designed to take their fans somewhere that the band had never been and it sort of does that – it’s a much harder sound than any of their earlier albums, and it turned out to be hugely influential to bands like Radiohead (who used it as inspiration whilst recording ‘Ok Computer’).

Here is tomorrow’s lyrical teaser “I think the man next door is having a nervous breakdown

A Month all about Names – #15 – Annie/Anne

Annie – Elastica (1994, Deceptive Records, Taken from ‘Elastica’)

When I was 12 my school for its end of year production did a performance of the musical Annie.  A show that I was persuaded to take part in.  I was persuaded to take part by a girl called Claire who lived down the road from my Nan who was a couple of years older than me and who I had, it is fair to say, something of a crush on and I think she probably knew it and used to her advantage knowing that the choir (some of whom doubled up as random orphan children) were a couple of short. I was awful in it, the music teacher (the aforementioned Mrs Allington from a couple of weeks ago) recognised my complete lack of singing voice shunted me to the back of the stage where my voice would be drowned out by the music and other more tuneful voices.  Claire, by the way, played the part of evil Agatha Hannigan, the boozed up manager of the orphanage where Annie lived before she was adopted by billionaire Daddy Warbucks.  Claire, was excellent in this role, unsurprisingly.  This was my first and last ever performance in a musical.  Claire hooked up with a blonde haired kid called Gareth about six weeks into my second year at school.  Gareth also lived down the road from my Nan and my brother gave him a dead arm once during a game of it. 

I have always found the premise of the musical Annie, a bit concerning.  Even more so these days.  A billionaire whose nickname is ‘Daddy’ sends his secretary into an orphanage and randomly chooses an orphaned vulnerable child to live with him for a week.  There are no criminal background checks made, no one raises an eyebrow as to why a reclusive billionaire, might suddenly want a child (a massively ginger female chid at that) to talk to.  No one even checks that Daddy Warbucks is actually a billionaire like he says he is.   Dodgy.

There are quite a few Annie songs (none from the Musical or the utterly terrible remake starring Jamie Foxx – actually whilst I am here, the original Daddy Warbucks was played by Albert Finney, but he was the second choice for the role.  The original choice was Sean Connery.  Also film fans, Sean Connery was the original choice to play Gandalf but turned it down because he thought ‘Lords of the Rings’ was far fetched. 

Anyway I digress.  Here are four more songs from the music library with Annie in the title, starting with some post rock brilliance from Quickspace.

Death + Annie – Quickspace (1998, Kitty Kitty Records, Taken from ‘Precious Falling’) – ‘Death + Annie’ is the opening track of ‘Precious Falling’, which was an ‘album I played in the run up to my finals when I was University, it is a wonderful blend of Krautrock, post rock and sweeping cinematic soundscapes.  Next up, the Boo Radleys

Annie & Marnie – Boo Radleys (1998, Creation Records, Taken from ‘C’Mon Kids’) – ‘Annie & Marnie’ was originally one of the B Sides for the ‘What’s In the Box’ single.  A single that saw the band roundly stick up their middle fingers to the more commercial sound that their previous album ‘Wake Up Boo!’ had.  It was a good move because the album that followed ‘What’s In the Box’ – ‘C’mon Kids’ was all sorts of excellent (unlike ‘Wake Up Boo!’).  Next up, some lofi indie from Mac DeMarco.

Annie – Mac DeMarco (2012, Captured Tracks, Taken from ‘2’) – ‘2’ is the second album from Canadian singer Mac DeMarco and is according to him an album that he recorded entirely in only his underwear.  Finally, vintage transit pop from the greatest French band of all time (face facts Daft Punk).

Without Annie – Les Thugs (1986, Closer Records, Taken from ‘Radical Hystery’)

Tomorrow – Julie, who whoa whoa loves me truly.  Probably.

A Month all about Names – #4 –Barney

Barney (….and Me) – The Boo Radleys (1992, Creation Records, Taken from ‘Giant Steps’)

Fred Flintstone is a complete idiot.  Every night he puts his giant sabre toothed tiger out for the night.  The tiger then jumps back into the house through the gap where a window should be (this being the stone age (of sorts) glass seems not to have been invented, even though drive in cinemas, cars and according to one episode, cigarettes all have).  The tiger then picks Fred up and puts him outside instead. 

Fred is apparently totally oblivious to the fact that he doesn’t have any glass in his window and stands there hammering on his door shouting for his wife to let him back in the house.  Fred, mate, look to your left, there is a massive hole in the wall big enough for a tiger to get in.  What makes this even worse and pushes Fred up the Grand Order of Idiocy to the Top Three idiots ever, is that the sabre toothed tiger that he is putting out for the night, isn’t even his tiger.

Idiot.

Fred’s best mate however, is a diminutive little dude called Barney Rubble.  Barney Rubble is the Sheldon Cooper of prehistoric men.  He is a genius (compared to Fred at least).  Not only does he work as a top secret spy but he also invented the worlds first (and possibly only) human powered helicopter, an advanced sports car, is an accomplished pianist and talented drummer (yup the prehistorc folk of Bedrock have pianos and drums, but not, glass).

This, folks, should I need to give you a reason, is why, we are featuring songs that feature Barney in this series, and not Fred.  That and ‘Barney and Me’ came up on the random playlist shuffle this morning and I don’t own any songs that have Fred in the title (apart from this one, obviously), but I prefer my reason.

‘Barney (….and Me) was the third (second?) single to be taken from the all-conquering and recently featured Nearly Perfect Album ‘Giant Steps’ by the Boo Radleys. It is a terrific song with choppy, jangly guitars, a perfect flute bit, and a mad bit that brings about a massive chorus.  Brilliant, all of it.  Most of you already knew that I would imagine.

There are two other songs in my music library that feature the name ‘Barney’ in their titles.  Neither of them are the theme tune to a programme featuring a huge slightly phallic looking purple dinosaur.

First up, rather fittingly is this stomping piece of guitar pop from Birmingham’s The Twang.

Barney Rubble – The Twang (2009, B- Unique Records, Taken from ‘Jewellery Quarter’)

My music library tells me that I have played this track precisely once in the past.  Having listened to it again, I’m not massively surprised.  The Twang have rather sullied the great Rubble name here (Rubble is rhymed rather sixformishly with “Double” and “Trouble” in the chorus) .   If you are interested in The Twang they released a ‘Best Of’ album (who knew..?) back in 2017 which contains ‘Barney Rubble’ and several other of their songs, none of which I actually own or remotely care about.

Finally for today a bit of long forgotten excellence taken from ‘Workshy’ the debut album from London’s much missed Animals That Swim.  An album that some shite student reporter once called “intellectual brass led indie pop for people who have badges on the straps of their record bags….”.  Workshy’ comes highly recommended by the way.  Animals That Swim may also feature in another series later this year, if that’s not giving too much away.

Barney – Animals That Swim (1994, Elemental Records, Taken from ‘Workshy’)

Up tomorrow – Charlie

Counting Up from Two – #8 – Nine

Upon 9^th and Fairchild – The Boo Radleys (1993, Creation Records, Taken from ‘Giant Steps’)

In 1984, just after my ninth birthday I joined a football club.  That club the imaginatively named Rainham 84, grew out of the ashes of two other boys teams that folded a few months earlier.  The supremo behind the club was a man called Paul, a chap who so he told us, used to play for Fulham and drove around in a Rolls Royce.

On the first training day which involved a hastily arranged match between about 25 lads, I played for the first time on the right wing.  Normally I played right back, but another lad called Tony had pretty much staked his claim on that position on the grounds that his dad was one of the training staff.  So I stuck myself out on the wing.  Where I flew up and down for the majority of the match, occasionally stepping inside, but by and large I caused havoc for the other side’s defence, because I was quicker than they were. 

A week later I was told by Paul that I’d made the team for Rainham 84’s first ever match.  This would be a friendly against a side from nearby Sittingbourne called Swale Magpies.  On the Sunday we all traipsed down to our home ground, and Paul gave us all a lecture about the time he played his first game for Fulham (he played left back and got subbed at half time because he didn’t listen to the boss) and told us we should keep the ball on the ground – which seems as a good reason to post this

Give Him A Ball and a Yard of Grass – Sultans of Ping F.C (1993, Rhythm King Records, Taken from ‘Casual Sex in the Cineplex’)

It was of course a bit of thrashing, we at Rainham 84 were woefully underprepared and by half time we were 4 goals down.  My marauding runs down the wing were becoming pointless, and all my crosses were not being met by the big lad in the middle as they were being easily dealt with by their big lad in the centre of defence. 

It was only a friendly Paul told us at half time as we wiped the orange juice from our mouths.  We’d be better by the time the season started.  Which was true, I mean we were awful right there and then and couldn’t get much worse.   We lost 7 nil a result which was made worse by Tony who was made captain, firing a penalty over the bar.

Two more friendlies had followed, a narrow 5 -1 loss to a team called Pegasus and an even narrower 3-2 defeat to a team called Parkwood United, so Paul was right we were getting better.  The first game of the season arrived and predictably it was chucking it down.  Which makes this a somewhat an ideal choice.

Nine Million Rainy Days – Jesus and Mary Chain (1987, Blanco Y Negro, Taken from ‘Darklands’)

The first game was against a team called Spartac (which I’ve thought would be a good name for a band).  They were already, based on their Under 11s side, the favourites to win the division.   None of them looked nine or ten.  Their holding midfielder had a beard that Brian Blessed would be proud of.   Thirty minutes before kick off, our goalkeeper cried off sick, leaving us with a distinct problem.  That is until my dad persuaded Paul to rip up the Kent County Football Rule Book.  

My dad wandered over and whispered to Paul.  Who in turn whispered in my brothers ear and walked over to me “If anyone asks, you two are twins”, he said with a nod.  My brother is eighteen months older than me and played in goal for the Under 12s.  He was back then a very good goalkeeper and made diving at the feet of strikers look undaunting and a lot of fun.

“Oh” said, Paul, “your Dad says you should play centre forward – so here you go”.  With that he handed me the Number Nine shirt. 

9 – Planningtorock (2011, DFA Records, Taken from ‘W’)

Final score two each, a penalty saved by my brother, who singlehandedly kept us in the match and a last gasp equaliser scored by yours truly (bottom left hand corner, keeper stood no chance).  It genuinely felt like we’d won the cup.  The jubilation would not last, but it was great whilst it did.

Nearly Perfect Albums – #38

Giant Steps – Boo Radleys

Wish I Was Skinny– Boo Radleys (1993, Creation Records)

Before ‘Giant Steps’ I had written the Boo Radleys off as a second division shoegaze act.  I’d physically laughed at my girlfriend one afternoon in her room at university when she pulled the album off the shelf (on tape!) and stuck it inside the forty quid cassette player that she’d bought in the Woolworths sale a couple of months ago. 

65 minutes later, my tea had gone cold, my jaw was still dropped open and I was re-reading the album notes for lie the third time.  It is an astonishing record and if how a good a record sounds on a cheap cassette player is ever held up as a genuine way of scoring albums, then it’s the best record in the entire world.

It sounds like what would happen if all of your favourite bands made you a personal mixtape and then recorded it for you.  You get chiming indie brilliance, you get dub, you get jazz, ambience, dance, electronica, shoegaze and psychedelica.  That’s just the music.  You need to add humour, wonky synthesizers, bonkers interludes, backwards counting, giraffes hidden on the cover, references to Faye Dunaway and an actual plane crash to that as well and still you are nowhere near listing everything that occurs on this record. 

All that in 65 breathless minutes.  It is a record that is as ambitious as it is incredible and as its hugely incredible that gives you some idea of the scope, imagination and depth that this record has.  Last week I spent four hours listening to it over and over again and it still feels and sounds like a new record.  Ah, let’s talk about the actual music.

The album opens with the excellent ‘I Hang Suspended’ I say opens, it is more of a reluctant sigh and a tickle of a drum before a guitar finally wails and Sice’s vocal kicks in.  If that first wail doesn’t make the hairs on your arms stand up then you have probably lost both of your arms.

I Hang Suspended – Boo Radleys (1993 Creation Records)

Almost as good as that is ‘Barney (….and Me) which bursts with energy and a driving melody before is suddenly just stops.

Barney (….and Me) – Boo Radleys (1993, Creation Records)

It has so many highlights, ‘Butterfly McQueen’ is for example brilliant, a hazy psychedelic adventure that is underpinned with the simplest of dub basslines which is then reinforced by trumpets that sound like they are being played in a smoky Deep South ballroom.  But then they all fall away under the sort of guitar feedback that the Reid brothers would literally fight each other for. It’s very nearly the best thing on the whole record.

Butterfly McQueen – Boo Radleys (1993, Creation Records)

I originally wrote this review back in May and it opened like I do with the majority of these reviews with the best track on the album, that is of course ‘Lazarus’.  It turns out that ‘Lazarus’ finished at #25 on the One Word Countdown and as such it is due to feature on Monday, where it will have a post of all its own. 

The Ramshackle Brilliance of the Chart Show Indie Chart -#5

This week 17th August 1996 and going up at Number Seven

Becoming More Like Alfie – The Divine Comedy (1996, Setanta Records)

In August 1996, I had just past my 21st birthday and was on the cusp of moving to London for the first time. We’d found a flat to rent in Plumstead, South East London and had gone to look round the area. It must have been sunny or we had too much cider at lunch, because we took on the flat, despite Plumstead being full of knuckle dragging racist bellends who struggle to walk and clap at the same time.

The flat itself was quite nice, a stones throw from Englands highest security prison, Belmarsh, two stones throw from the biggest local authority housing estate in Europe and three stones throws from a relatively decent Woolworths.

Next door to Woolworths was a shop called We Selfridges. The ‘We’ being really small so it looked like ‘Selfridges’. It just sold fridges. It was a joke that got less funny every time I saw it.

One the highlights of our ten months in Plumstead was a Sunday afternoon walk to Woolworths. Once we walked past a blazing row between a clearly jilted man and his former squeeze, which ended with him telling me as I walked past that the lady in question “had slept with half of Plumstead.” If this lady had found more one man in that place even worth having a drink with, she would have done well.

Anyway, in that branch of Woolworths I once found a copy of ‘Cassanova’ by The Divine Comedy for £1.99. Which was a bargain. Even if it by no means their finest work.

Elsewhere in the chart – at six – a record I remember being sent an advance copy about four months before it actually came out

Trash – Suede (1996, Nude Records)

At five, possibly the worst track I’ve ever encouraged you to click on

Mouse In A Hole – Heavy Stereo (1996, Creation Records)

At three, a record that somehow never got to be the theme for ‘Deal or No Deal

What’s In the Box (See Whatcha Got) – The Boo Radleys (1996, Creation Records)

At two, was this nugget of tremendousness. A record I’d never heard before today.

Encyclopedi-ite – Sammy (1996, DGC Records)

But at number was something even better, possibly one of the best records that I have posted on this here blog

Phasers On Stun – Urusei Yatsura (1996, Chemical Underground Records)