The first time my brothers and I saw the video for Firestarter, we lost our shit and I don’t think we ever found it again. The Prodigy were the first band for us who crossed over from dance into rock enough for us to get behind.
We would sit and watch this cartoon punk of a man gyrate and stick his tongue out on TV, mad piercings all across his face, hair spiked and these wild eyes caked in makeup. I didn’t know what he was but I liked it. The most important thing was that he was from Essex. Famous people weren’t from Essex. They were from Hollywood or Liverpool or Ramsay Street. Here was this band who made a lot of noise and freaked out my mum and although we had no idea what the songs were about, they served us in some way. It felt naughty. It felt like we were getting away with it. As we got into our music and as music videos were such high profile things we became obsessed with theirs, particularly Smack My Bitch Up. No prizes for guessing why.
Then I started going out, “clubbing”, and heard Charly, Out Of Space and Breathe in the context they were intended. I lost my shit anew on dance floors across the county and then I got the chance to see The Prodigy at Bestival. I remember jumping up in the air at the start of their set and my feet not returning to the ground until they had left the stage in a haze of feedback and destruction. The crowd were a blanket and a riot. I was carried and dragged around like I was caught up in the undertow. I had never experienced anything like it.
I guess my point is that I want to say thank you to Keith, and the rest of the band of course, for providing such a ferocious soundtrack to important parts of my upbringing. I was deeply saddened by the news yesterday morning but more than anything I just thought “oh fuck, another one”. How many more people I admire am I going to lose this way? It’s absolutely gutting and more needs to be done to help people who feel that there is no alternative. Please, take the time to check on the people close to you. And if you’re feeling low and you’re able to reach out, then do so, because this alternative is no alternative at all.
I kept hearing this song. I knew I didn’t know the title but there was no doubt in my mind that I knew exactly who it was by. Daniel Johnston.
Johnston is an American singer-songwriter, artist, musician and outsider who seems to collect a certain type of fan. I include myself in that number. I came to Johnston via Cobain, as I imagine a lot of people did. Anything Cobain wore was fraught with intrigue and I remember seeing this stalk-eyed alien t-shirt on him that was saying “Hi, how are you?” and I thought it was great and very little besides.
It was only later that I found out it was the cover art of a Daniel Johnston album of the same name and then I listened to it and it broke my fucking heart.
Now, I hear his song The Story Of The Artist everywhere and it has grated me over a bolognese composed of my own organs. I can’t think of anyone who sounds like they they understand the deep end of human emotions like him. His song is being used to advertise fruit-based devices. I won’t share that here. I will tell you to listen to this song in full:
This week I was asked what my Desert Island Discs would be. Unfortunately, it wasn’t by Kirsty Young.
For the longest time, I have thought about what my eight songs, one book and one luxury item would be if I were cast adrift on a desert island, but until now, nobody had asked me. The conversation was more of a back-and-forth and I can’t promise that if I am ever on the show that the songs would remain the same (I’ve just realised I missed Led Zeppelin out). For now though, these are my Desert Island Discs.
1. Tubby The Tuba – Danny Kaye
When I was a kid, we spent a fair amount of time with my mum’s parents, my grandparents as it were. Understandably, they didn’t have a lot of toys but they did have an old VHS of the 1975 animation, Tubby The Tuba. For those of you who aren’t up on your cartoons about brass instruments, it tells the tale of a tuba who goes on an adventure to find a song of his own. He’s a vicious and podgy little narcissist but aren’t we all at some stage.
We watched Tubby every time we were there. I never really appreciated the brilliance of it at the time. I heard the opening spiel on 6Music recently and it brought all these memories of my grandparents flooding back. This track is the sound of the orchestra gearing up. It reminds me of the opening of Moonrise Kingdom too, which can only ever be a good thing.
2. What’s The Frequency, Kenneth? – R.E.M
To this day, my parents swear that we would always listen to Automatic For The People but this is the opening track of Monster and I know what I’m about, son. As kids, we holidayed for two weeks in the south of France every year. Mostly because my dad is scared of flying. There, we would stay in a caravan and try and make friends with French kids, by shouting at them in English.
These holidays involved driving through the whole of France, listening to cassette tapes. I remember The Beautiful South, Joseph & The Technicoloured Dreamcoat soundtrack and R.E.M. As the opening track of the album, it always signaled a change in tone. I was too young to know that R.E.M. were fucking cool but it definitely set a tone for my tastes in music.
Listening to them always invokes these mad stories of our time together as a young family. Accidentally getting an enema from sliding down the flumes over and over again, falling in love with any girl who dared make eye contact with me, my father in drag for some reason, reading Lord Of The Rings, mum flicking butter at our next door neighbours, stealing my brother’s chips until he noticed and cried, watching my other brother get split in two by a bungee trampoline. Ahh, the good old days.
3. With A Little Help From My Friends – The Beatles This was the first song I learnt to play on the piano. I had lessons when I was very young, before I really appreciated what my parents were trying to do. I used to visit this old woman in a block of flats for lessons. Her name was Mrs Udaman. She was fascinating and terrifying. She used to give me cherryade and tell me stories about riding on the backs of elephants in Africa.
That aside, she babied both my brother and I in our lessons. It seemed forever before I went from learning Catty, Ducky, Eggy (C, D, E) to an actual, recognisable tune. That tune was With A Little Help From My Friends. It was a real lesson in what music could do and how creating noise could make you feel. It’s obviously from one of the most important albums of all time but this song in particular has a deep message about friendship and love too.
I can’t find the studio version on YouTube but look at them!
4. I Know It’s Over – The Smiths
As Nick Hornby says, via Rob in High Fidelity; “what came first, the music or the misery?”
I believe Morrissey came first. There’s something about The Smiths and the time you come to that band that very heavily influences you. The first time I heard The Smiths and remember it impacting me was when my friend Sam used Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me as the soundtrack to a short film we shot at college. I can’t remember the details of the film but he was adamant we used the song. I was hooked. It felt like Steven Patrick Morrissey was reaching into my heart and soul and understanding just how misunderstood I was. I appreciate now that’s it silly. In the same way that my book of choice isn’t really for the me I am now, that’s why I continue to listen to The Smiths. I can imagine this being played in my funeral. What a better opening line for that day. It touches something in the loner and allows them to belong. What better way of indulging in your own masturbatory pursuits while adrift on a desert island than listening to this?
5. Claude DeBussy – Clair De Lune I used to spend a lot of time with this girl. I don’t know what happened there but we used to lie in her bed and listen to piano moods. I was in my early twenties and I didn’t think I had any time for piano moods. It didn’t fit in with what I was feeling or who I thought I was. I don’t even know if this is one of the songs that we would listen to but there’s something about the vibe of it that has stuck with me. It also featured beautifully in Wes Anderson’s Darjeeling Limited. Why can’t I take one film with me onto the island? That’s the real question here because it would definitely be that. There’s something about the mood of this piece that I absolutely adore. I’ve spent hours with this piece of music playing on repeat as I try to fathom my way through something I’m writing. That’s why a bit of DeBussy makes the cut, it helps you to turn off from everything else and just zone out for a while. It’s intricately beautiful. It drives something up from within me that contemporary music can’t. Sometimes it’s nice to pretend you’re swanky with some piano moods.
6. Boys In The Band – The Libertines
Going from one extreme to the other, this song reminds me of the best part of my coming of age. I will never forget the number of times I have bounced around, clad in leather and denim, arms around someone I love, screaming every sloppy lyric in their ear. I will always love this band and I will always love this song.
7. Kooks – David Bowie This track is from one of my absolute favourite albums. I have my parents to thank for that. I remember listening to it on vinyl when I was very young. I would run my finger along the contours of his face on the cover. The wonder of records was that you paid so much more attention to the artwork because it was so big. The album sounded completely different to anything I had ever heard before and this track is sublime. It has a touch of madness to it which I believe is linked to his feelings about his brother. I can relate.
It’s like a nursery rhyme to me and was the start of my love for David and my love for vinyl. If anyone asks, I grew up with three parents; Trace, Si and Bowie.
8. Road To Joy – Bright Eyes.
So this is my last song. I’ve placed it last because it is the closer on one of my all-time favourite albums. The way this song drives and the bombastic ending with the trumpet wailing and the hoarse way Conor shouts the words over it all kill me every time. This was an album that my friend introduced me to. He’s one of those people who is always into cool stuff before anyone else seems to have had the chance to have heard it. He’s always a cut above. I remember going for long, roaming drives with this on as we smoked roll ups and talked about our dreams.
A book?
Do I still have to take a bible? If we are talking works of fiction, there are others I would much rather switch it out for. I know I get the complete works of Shakespeare as well. If anything, this will be a good opportunity for me to read them. I’ve never really committed to it. I hope I can find a way of relating them all to something else, in the way that I can only process Hamlet by thinking about The Lion King.
My choice though, my favourite book of all time, is actually tattooed on the back of my leg. It’s a cliche I know but it’s Catcher In The Rye by Jerome David Salinger. Like The Smiths, it was a piece of culture that smacked me between the eyes at just the right time. I read it at least once a year, usually around Christmas time. I would be only too happy to do the same on a desert island. Sure, there are parts of Holden’s personality that I now find insufferable, but that’s only ever going to be because I am becoming more phoney as I grow up. I can still see what I saw in that book then and that’s what I hold now. It’s a work of absolute genius. It’s one of the most important works of the 20th century. I know he grew to despise the way people treated him because of it but J.D. Salinger shaped a lot of people and it would be my absolute pleasure to be adrift with his work.
A luxury item?
Can I have two? They go hand-in-hand, literally. A bucket and spade. Every day I could go down to the beach and create something. The tide could take it away and then I could just begin again. That would satisfy me greatly and the fact that I would be repeating the same process every day and looking for a different result is the first sign of madness. What a beautiful place to go insane.
From the opening strains of Show, it is clear that Southend-on-Sea’s very own Carousel have a goal in mind, and that’s to lift you up. There is nothing to stop the smiles spreading as their sublime vocal melodies explode and their joyous mix of folk and blues push on like clockwork. Their take on Americana is infectious. Carousel are Thomas Eatherton, Chris Hobart, Sarah Holburn and Toby Shaer
It takes a lot to stand out in this age of music being available everywhere and nobody giving a shit about artists who are actually doing something, playing instruments, trying hard. It’s not particularly “in vogue” to be in a band. There are plenty of bands doing it, especially locally, so when you hear something that actually makes you feel feelings, makes you feel like you might be an actual human being, why not go for it.
You may be familiar with Dead Horse, which has been doing the rounds on Facebook ahead of the EP launch. It sounds like a road trip soundtrack song. It drives itself and you should too. Again, the vocal melodies rise up during the chorus which features painfully relatable lyrics.
Porcelain, the middle child of the Carousel EP family, is the slow, considered ballad in the midst of the thriving city soundtrack. Like the title’s subject matter, it’s beautiful and fragile. Sarah takes the lead on vocals to devastating effect. I’m not crying, there’s just something in my eye. It’s followed up by Throw Me To The Wolves, the polar opposite. Packed with distorted guitar and a layer of scuzz to the vocals, it’s a stand out track for me. It’s all well and good to be able to craft something melodic and sublime, but to show you can still have an edge is an exciting prospect. It’s Carousel Go Electric.
Comfortable Skin closes the EP like it is wishing you goodnight, Thomas’s lyrics about staying true to oneself matched in tone with backing melodies to make your hair stand on end.
If you’re looking for range and you’re looking for treatment, then you’ll want to get in with Carousel.
Carousel EP is out on 22/09/2017.
You can find out more here.
Earlier this year I was out for a drive with my best boy Scott Rose. We were listening to a bunch of rough demos I had recorded for what I planned on being my second album. The songs were ok and I had spent a reasonable amount of time on them so when Scott said that he didn’t think they grabbed his attention enough I realised I had put them together for the sake of it and could do a lot better.
The conversation moved on to pop music, and if I thought I could write something cheesy and popular and give up any kind of credibility I had for myself. I decided to conduct some kind of test and ended up writing thirteen songs where I attempted to bridge the gap between what I do and nonsensical pop.
I ended up with a ten track album I’m calling Sell Sell Sell, after what I plan to do with copies of it which simultaneously references that great scene in Trading Places. A lot of the songs are about love. There are terrible rhymes and even a spoken word piece. If you’re a fan of Paul Schiernecker then why not download Sell Sell Sell now.
On 27 July I was lucky enough to attend the album launch of my good friend Davey Hal. As far as I know, I have never been to an album launch. It couldn’t have been for a kinder and more talented artist.
I’ve known Davey Hal for a few years. If memory serves me correctly we were introduced when we both on the same bill at a Play By Fear gig at The Alex in Southend. We have had many a cuddle since. Earlier this year, Davey asked if I wanted to review his album prior to the intended release date. Eager to get my hands on the first album from someone I knew had the talent to put an album of brilliant material together, I volunteered. The resulting review seemed to mean a lot to Davey and gave a boost to my stats so we were both happy.
Due to personal circumstances, Davey delayed the album until recently. The album launch took place at Metal HQ in Chalkwell Park, a venue not known for its ability to be a venue. I once performed at a spoken word event there and felt like I was talking about cunnilingus in someone’s lounge. Not for the first or last time. The album launch was no different. Unless you hit the sweet spot, it was difficult to line up in the space to see his support act Lillith and I was then lucky enough to see percussionist bear Benjy Adams play alongside his friend, while I tried to squeeze further into the room. Davey introduced the launch with Soothe The Grey and closed with Your Stone, both beautifully composed piano pieces that served to remind me why he is so good at what he does. In between he was joined for a full band for version of Nightwalking, Fingertips and Run With Me. I was in love.
It’s nice to see your friends but it’s even better to see your friends do so well.
My thanks to Davey Hal for bringing the album to us and for giving those songs the respect they deserved by playing them live. It was a joy to be a part of and something I won’t be forgetting any time soon.
It would be fair to say that our little seaside town is not short of talent. That’s why I was pleased to see that one of the most prominent voices on the local scene, Davey Hal, was working on his first solo album, and enthralled when he asked me to give Materials Logic an exclusive listen.
From the piano run on Soothe The Grey, the opener, you are invited into Hal’s world, a heady mix of late night love stories in a cocktail lounge. The harmonies present are ethereal, almost medieval in tone, grand. It’s strong without ever being overstated. The piano accompanies and underpins lyrics on royalty and death. This is immediately followed by Night Walking, a song with so much jazz club funk to its bassline that it forces a waltz quickstep into your feet as you attempt to move to the beat. It’s here that Hal’s voice is given the chance to sour, on a chorus that has been stuck in my head for at least the last fortnight. The song that was played on TIME107.5FM last week, finally bridging the gap between those who love Materials Logic and those who are yet to hear it. It has a In The Wee Small Hours.
White Walls sounds closer to the Davey Hal you might have seen at one of the many performances he blesses upon our town. A simple guitar track, with a strange likeness to something High Flying Birds would produce. It’s a song of attempted escape, an ode to love. The album takes a moment to recover with the instrumental track, Berdou, before Davey can pick up his guitar again and ask you to Run With Me. It’s the first real pop song of the album. It sounds like an instant classic, something beautiful and familiar. There’s a Paul Simon influence in there at times and yet another chorus worthy of being sung back by thousands of voices. Album title track Materials Logic slows matters down considerably, like a villain’s exposition in a performance, Hal’s voice starting out in a low chatter that sounds like it’s creeping before he soars, showcasing his range, crying out for an answer. The key change into the final refrain is particularly chilling.
“Head up, left foot against a wall” he begins on Fingertips before listing attributes of a lover in a seaside town. It’s equal parts affectionate and scathing, figuring that the subject is human anyway and does her hair while he’s asleep. Your Stone is close in tone to the title track, again going through the trials of some mystery woman Hal is observing and inspired by. Up Into Her Clouds is a straight-up love song, drawing on weather in the way only an Englishman can in order to explain his amore for anyone. The jaunty piano solo in the middle is reminiscent of something on Rubber Soul before Hal reveals that his admiration proved too much and turns the mood sour in the way love often does.
Dear Mary creeps in like another performance piece, sung in the early hours and utilising everything Hal has to explain the situation to his Mary to the point of his own frustration. My Senses ambles in after her, the final thoughts of a man who has given everything of his own over eleven tracks and 42 minutes. It is close to Turner’s Submarine EP in production, nothing to overcomplicate and draw from the raw talent that is Davey Hal and the showcase of this that is Materials Logic.
Paul Schiernecker 