LINK TO INDEX

So, did everyone manage to get their Glastonbury tickets? I hear it only took 90 minutes for the event to sell out. That's quicker sales than a captive seaman's adventure story. I dare say younger revellers must get fed up with 'old-uns' banging on about how commercialised the event grown over the years. Well, as a grudgeful old-timer myself, I do honestly feel the event has improved with age. It's certainly been interesting to see the days of bad hash, hippies and Hawkwind gradually being replaced by affluent suburbanites from Middlesex, sipping Perrier and and clutching the Daily Telegraph. But let's face it folks, what other festival could sell out in under two hours when the bands haven't even been announced? It just goes to show that the 'vibe' of Glasto is just as important as the bands, no matter who is playing, and we Norton folk are simply very lucky that the mother-of-all-festivals is practically on our doorstep. So, see you there folks! Well OK, perhaps just on Sunday. I'm afraid my camping days are over since the notorious 'Trench-Foot Years' of the late 90's. Mind you, I'm sure you'll agree if I suggest that Radiohead's legendary Glasto appearance of 1997 wouldn't have been the same without the accompaniment of such gruelling weather. My boots are still there, somewhere!

Anyway Dear Reader, never mind the festival season, because we've had a egg-ceptional itinery of live music here at The Wunderbar over the Easter period. ('egg-ceptional' - geddit?) Easter Saturday saw the wonderful Venus Bogardus perform at the Wunderbar.

This three-piece outfit, partly from Bath and partly from Austin Texas formed about a year ago, and it certainly makes you wonder how they arrange their rehearsals! Anyway, hats-off to any trio. It's not easy without a second guitarist to hand. Venus Bogardus deliver their riff-laden art-rock with speed, conviction and effortless style. Their intellectual garage-punk approach is punctuated by warm, fuzzy guitar drones reminiscent of Sonic Youth and The Psychedelic Furs, with a courtesy nod to London's legendary 'Riot Grrrl' scene for good measure. Their songs boast some rather intelligent lyrics too. Indeed, the band's debut 7" single entitled 'Jacques Rigaut' is presumably inspired by the French surrealist poet of the same name. It's a shame the Bar wasn't as packed as it ordinarily would've been, but after all, it was a Bank Holiday weekend. Let's hope Venus Bogardus make a welcome return to the bar soon.

Now, for anyone who prefers something more challenging than your straightforward guitar, bass and drums set up, then maybe Panic Number are the band for you. This hard working local four-piece have carefully considered their sound, offering something a little more diverse than your average no-frills rock combo. Panic Number augment solid guitar-driven songs with layers of sequenced keyboards and electronic rhythms, the drummer carefully playing along to a 'click-track', giving the band a soaring electronic edge. OK, so that's been done before I hear you say! Well, Panic Number's trump card is that they don't go over the top, allowing neatly sculptured synthetic nuances to float gently over the band's gritty guitar backdrop only when it suits. The result is a repertoire of songs which are as exciting as they are unpredictable.

Many discerning songwriters will tell you that a sure sign of a great song is when it can be broken down to the bare minimum and played on nothing more than an acoustic guitar (remember Left Side Brain's legendary 'Wunderbar unplugged' anyone?).

Well, this is where Panic Number continue to demonstrate their quality. Over their past few appearances here at the Wunderbar, the band have been just as likely to show up with nothing more than acoustic guitars as with a van load of drum cases. If the band's dabblings with rock-electronica weren't convincing enough, their well crafted songs could still sound electrifying during a power cut.

Panic Number's Easter billing at the Wunderbar was given added interest with the addition of support band Souls. Both bands were formed from the ashes of Submatrix, a young local band who were around during the late 90's, a time that saw a healthy abundance of fresh young bands forming in the Norton Radstock area. Today however, listening to how Souls and Panic Number have each evolved since going their own ways, it's interesting to see how very different the two bands are - Souls veering towards rock with attitude, and Panic Number preferring melodic song writing with sonic experimentation. Let's hope Panic Number return to the Bar soon. As to whether they'll turn up with just acoustic guitars or with more treats than an Iranian prisoner's goody-bag, perhaps they'll just keep us guessing for now. Anyway, great gig guys!

Finally Dear Reader, have you ever noticed how indie compilation albums can generally be a bit hit and miss? Well, Bristol's coolest new indie label 'The International Lo-Fi Underground' have just released a compilation which is absolutely top notch throughout. 'Honey The Dog's Home' released on April 30th, features artists from around the world, including Bristol bands Girl From Headquarters, Forest Giants and Beatnik Filmstars, as well as local newcomers The Westfield Mining Disaster. What's more, proceeds from the album go towards Bristol Dog's home. So, if you like animals as well as great music, this could be just the album for you.

Anyway, I'm off to buy myself some new boots in good time for the upcoming festival season. Thing is, I've never understood why Boots don't sell them!

Until next time, Take care.

Hey Readers, I think 'The A Team' have just moved into our street. I'm half expecting B.A. Barracus to knock on the door requesting a cup of sugar. A sensible 4x4 people-carrier is obviously a worthy asset for any growing family unit. However, does anyone else find it rather absurd to see shiny steam-cleaned pick-up trucks being driven around town by smartly dressed fashion-victims flaunting well manicured nails and the latest Reeboks? It seems that these heavy duty vehicles, designed specifically for tough driving on rugged terrain, have been steadily adopted as the latest must-have fashion accessory, required by their owners simply to collect the groceries from Planet Tesco. I could well understand Michael Eavis driving one, or Grizzly Adams for that matter. After all, if we lived deep in the forest, or somewhere in the remote outback where a mammoth-sized vehicle would be required to collect cattle carcasses and felled trees, then fair enough, but seeing jet-washed pick-ups parked on suburban driveways seems utterly comical! It seems that the war of needless fashion over planet-saving economy, is being won by fashion every time!

Now then, has anyone else noticed how many other live music venues keep reminding us of acts that have passed through their doors on their way

to the top? We here at Wunderbar HQ have, by contrast, remained quietly modest about our pedigree of soon-to-be stars in the making. Well, maybe that's because we care more about music than hype. Anyway, among the latest stars on the rise who cut their teeth here at The Wunderbar, is the lovely Gareth Paisey of 'Los Campesinos' fame! In 2005, Gareth's acoustic twee-pop trio 'Les Pwe Blo' caused a stir here at The Wunderbar. Now relocated to Cardiff, Gareth's latest band 'Los Campesinos!' have found themselves creating a media storm, gaining repeated attention of the tabloid music weeklies, and ultimately bagging themselves a deal with major players Wichita Records. The seven-piece ensemble deliver a quirky brand of angular guitar-pop come post-rock, fuelled by duelling vocals, violin, frantic glockenspiels and melodia, nestling somewhere between Arcade Fire and Pavement. The band's first date on a whistle-stop UK tour during March was a low-key show at Bristol's Louisiana, and it was a real treat to see Gareth's trademark poetry, still unmistakably his own, getting the success it rightly deserves. Amidst all the media attention, it does make us rather proud knowing that Gareth's first review was here at Wunderbar.co.uk! So, come on NME - keep up with the times! The first release by 'Los Campesinos!' is the wonderful 7" single "You Throw Knives, We Throw Parties" issued on sparkling yellow vinyl, complete with a pop-up paper-chain of the band inside every copy! I for one, wish them all the best with their continuing success and their on-going tour.

Personally speaking, 2006 was one of the worst years I can remember for the good old-fashioned 'decent album'. Plenty of fashionable stuff was being thrown at us, but precious little of anything innovative or inspiring in my humble opinion. Let's face it folks, is anyone seriously bothered about another Arctic Monkeys album? Personally, I only got three tracks into the first one. And please don't get me started on Razor-shite! How reassuring it is to know that 2007 is already off to a redeeming start for must-have album releases. Isn't 'Neon Bible' by Arcade Fire just fantastic? At last, here's a band who prefer writing a decent song to dressing up like The Strokes. How many post-graduate wannabe punks from leafy Berkshire all cluelessly name-dropping The Slits on their MySpace profiles have we had to endure before a band who can deliver substance over style finally show us a decent, well crafted song? Not that decent music has to be about 'traditional' songwriting in my opinion.

After all, my 'official' fave band at present are LCD Soundsystem. OK, so they're probably everybody's favourite. An upbeat Pavement for the 21st Century? Who knows, but I do think James Murphy is a genius at what he does, and so clued up it almost makes you sick. With the simple refrains of 'North American Scum' being nothing short of a dancefloor-punk anthem for an entire generation, Murphy cunningly taps into every conceivable genre that New York has been famous for over the years - punk, disco, techno, you name it, all mixed up with a liberal helping of Eno-period Bowie and John Cale production style for good measure. It's not just about beats though. Just check 'New York I love you, but you're bringing me down', the final track on the band's stunning new album "Sound of Silver". A ballad by design, and a far cry from the disco-punk-chic for which LCD Soundsystem are better known, this song boasts the triumphant rowsing chorus line 'Take me off your mailing list, for kids who think it still exists!', a sneering mockery of current music hype that even Mark E. Smith would be proud of. Speaking of the great Mr. Smith, The Fall have recently delivered one of their best albums in years to add to the ever growing list of top notch albums of 2007 so far. The Fall's "Reformation Post TLC" sees Smith backed by an all-new American band, boasting two bass players and a fresh playful abrasiveness.

Mark E. Smith's arguments and on-stage brawls with band members have been well documented over the years, but something I've always admired about the man is that in the face of adversity, he always comes bouncing back. How many people could rebuild a band so quickly after parting company with the entire line-up? (Well, unless you're Chris Valdez of course). The Fall may have notched up more recordings than a Steve McClaren excuse book, but thirty years into their career, the Manchunican (and now Pan-American) stalwarts can still show their young imitators how things should be done.

Anyway folks, sorry there's no review from the Bar's live music itinerary this time round. However, you were all there, so you already KNOW what a great schedule Wilb lovingly provided for us all last month. But for anyone who missed the recent gigs here at The Wunderbar, just take a look at the stunning photo page here at wunderbar.co.uk presented by our extremely talented resident photographer Simon 'Sketch' Richardson. Any up and coming band would do very well to have some of his work in their gig portfolio. So much for those 'other' venues boasting, eh?

As for those shiny clean pick-up trucks blocking up the estate, maybe I'm just jealous. Having just struggled to cram the weekly groceries into the boot of our modest hatchback, our neighbour gave me a courteous wave from behind the wheel of his gleaming Mitsibushi Warrior. Ah yes, here come the shopping bags. Was it Tescos or the gruelling off-road trek to the nearest Asda?

9 2 7

I've noticed this week, a huge delivery of large red envelopes filling up the in-tray here at Wunderbar HQ. So, may I begin this month by saying a big 'thank you' to all you lovely female readers of the Pickwick's Pop Page for your gratefully received Valentine's cards which I shall, of course, endeavour to open once the big day arrives. As always, amidst the array of pancake wrappers and jiffy lemon bottles, my esteemed boss Guv'nor Black has again been resigned to erecting an extension to the office throughout February in order to store the burgeoning amount of amorous well wishing which has been heartily forthcoming in my name. Either that, or those red envelopes are final demands from the brewery which the Guv'nor has decided to let me handle. Hmmm.

Anyway ladies, if you're hoping for lavish gifts from your partner on Valentine's Day, be careful that he isn't giving out fakes. Scientists have discovered that even in the animal kingdom, hopeful males will hand out so-called 'nuptial' gifts prior to copulation, that are all too often worthless. Steven Heydon from the Museum of Entomology in California explains: "Males take some risk in hunting for a gift. They could be eaten by a bird or become prey themselves" Heydon said. "Also, the time they spend hunting can't be spent mating."

Now then, let's face it Dear Reader, the Eighties are not the most fondly remembered decade, either musically or politically, depending on your political preference of course. When Bath based four-piece Red Light Go took to the stage at The Wunderbar last month,

initial impressions would leave you thinking that the band's flamboyant attire and keyboard drenched electro-chic offered a somewhat questionable nod to that much maligned decade. However, closer investigation of the band's high-octane stage show reveals a cleverly calculated pastiche of influences from either side of the Eighties, but arguably, not totally from it. Red Light Go's art-punk presence and towering hook driven melodies lean towards the last few years of the Seventies, a time when many of punk's original icons, tired of the genre's limited creative scope, began experimenting with fresh ideas. Howard Devoto had already turned his back on the Buzzcocks to peruse a more intellectual approach with his legendary band Magazine. Likewise, former Sex Pistol John Lydon had dropped his debasive 'Rotten' persona in favour of the experimental dub rhythms of Public Image Limited. Many of these 'New Wave' bands from the time were seeing the potential of keyboard driven sounds, an art-rock approach which the first generation of punk hadn't really allowed. Whilst one side of Red Light Go fits neatly in late Seventies art-punk territory, the other fits readily into early Nineties electro. Indeed, the band's squidgy keyboard arpeggios that dominate their colossal sound come by way of a '909' emulator - a machine that didn't truly surface until the Acid House years around 1990.

I can picture Red Light Go's hook laden electro-pop being ideally suited to a movie soundtrack - somewhere between Derek Jarman's sci-fi punk-noir classic 'Jubilee' or Bowie's drug infused 'Christiane F.' What with enough vintage gear to make even a hardened Branscombe beach-comber cower with jealousy, Red Light Go's dynamic stage presence never fails to deliver satisfaction to the Wunderbar gig-going faithful, both musically or visually. All in all, Red Light Go aren't just your average soul-lacking nostalgia seekers. Instead, their cleverly interpreted influences give them a marked style which, in today's generic-guided climate, is not only fresh, but also truly their own. Nice work guys. I only wish I'd worn my loafers.

We impoverished pen pushers here at Wunderbar HQ try not to feature too much of the same bands on these pages. That's fair enough. After all, we wouldn't wish to be compared to the Daily Mail's repeated barrage of the reformed licensing hours now would we? However, when it comes to Bath based band Bloody Tourists, we're prepared to make an exception!

Bloody Tourists followed last year's tradition by being the first band to take the Saturday night slot of the new year, and what better way to shake off the January doldrums than by 'upping the dosage' as singer Lee would say, with another fix of the trio's debasive, pop punk prowess. The band's latest outing at the Wunderbar delivered a taster of the band's new material, neatly juxtaposed with their staple live favourites. As always, voyeuristic, twisted tales of lust, degradation and erm, masturbation (sorry Ed) are woven over shamelessly raw, yet helplessly addictive tunes. Drawing on influences ranging from Jimi Hendrix to The Pixies, Bloody Tourists excel in a brand of new generation punk refreshingly devoid of the usual clichés and self parody which has blighted the genre as a whole for many years. Furthermore, Bloody Tourists manage all this without being awkwardly arty or uninspiring slaves to fashion. Fantastic gig guys. Just one thing, let's hope we don't have to wait until January 2008 to have you back!

Now Dear Reader, you may have noticed a marked improvement in the band's photographs appearing in the column this month. Well folks, that's all thanks to the extremely talented Simon 'Sketch' Richardson who regularly photographs the artists performing here at the Wunderbar. You'll be pleased to see more of his rather excellent work by clicking the 'photographs' link of our home page.

Finally, a personal pick from local releases during January is a new EP by Bristol based lo-fi exponents Beatnik Filmstars.

Although the Beatnik Filmstars themselves have never played the Wunderbar, various members of the band are no strangers to Midsomer Norton's long standing music scene. 'Curious Role Model', a six song platter, is the latest addition to the band's prolific back catalogue which has been growing since they formed way back in 1990. I'll admit to being old enough to remember attending the band's first ever gig, and since then, the band have evolved through various line-ups, cultivating their unique brand of quirky, angular pop.

'Lo-Fi' is one of those fashionable phrases often foolhardily banded about by major label signings with big studios and equally big recording budgets at their disposable - hardly 'low fidelity' at all when you think about it. Beatnik Filmstars however, truly deserve their Lo-Fi tag, opting as they do, to drop conventional studios in favour of recording everything themselves. Mind you, Lo-Fi music doesn't necessarily have to be uncompromising or difficult to listen to. Far from it. Indeed, the band's latest offering boasts some cleverly crafted song writing, ranging from the breezy summery pop of 'Life In The Country' to the huge soaring melodies of 'Rough Traders'. It's nice to see a band offering good advice to their listeners too - the EP ends with the excellently titled 'Look After Your Feet'. Good advice for us all.

Darn! I've just taken a closer look at that big pile of Valentine cards... they're ALL addressed to bloody Hobbs! Oh well, I mustn't grumble. At least I'm not likely to be hunted by man eating birds for a while!

Until next time, J'taime! (That's French - apparently).

Happy New Year readers! Firstly, I hope you're all better at keeping up those New Year resolutions than I am! I'm ashamed to say, that in recent years, things have been far from committed here at Wunderbar HQ. In 2004, I vowed to stop eating sweets and visit the dentist. In 2005, I promised to have my cavities filled. In 2006, I vowed to have my root canal work done. As for 2007, I've wholeheartedly promised to get rid of my bad denture breath! Oh well. Maybe it's just best for me not to make any resolutions in future.

Anyway Dear Reader, despite enjoying a joyful holiday period, I was frankly quite appalled to learn that Paul Hewson, the Irish rock singer and recently turned anti-poverty campaigner otherwise known as 'Bono' was to receive an Honorary Knighthood at the New Year's Honours!

Tony Blair maintained the reward was well deserved for the star's 'remarkable' humanitarian work. OK, so no-one would deny that speaking up for Africa isn't a worthwhile cause. Of course it is. However, let's not forget folks, that the 46 year old multi-millionaire has been accused of hypocrisy after U2's business operations were 'conveniently' moved abroad just weeks before new Irish tax laws came into force. It seems our humanitarian friend Bono is asking Governments to donate tax revenue to charity, yet denying the government the very resources to do so! It's OK to use OUR taxes, but NOT his?

Despite a career of creative decline, U2 were bizarrely, the world's biggest musical earners in 2006, raking in a cool £145m. However, the band's business operations are now handled in Holland where, rather conveniently, there is almost no tax on royalties. Personally speaking folks, if Bono had announced that all money saved from U2's tax dodging exploits would go to Africa, I would say 'fair play' to the bloke. It still wouldn't excuse his band from being mediocre to say the least, but his good willed campaigning would at least, keep him away from singing for a while!

Now then, during 2006, local reggae label Pop-A-Top Records continued to expand their chain of excellence in December with their fifth release 'The Erin Bardwell Collective Vol. 2', showcasing, as Erin himself describes in the sleeve notes, 'New Sounds In Reggae Time'. Wunderbar regulars enjoyed a rare guest appearance by Erin Bardwell at the venue recently when the acclaimed Swindon based musician treated revellers to a memorable DJ set which rounded off the 'Pop-A-Top Allstars' evening in November.

Throughout Erin's new album, painstaking efforts have gone into creating the authentic 'old'

sound synonymous with ska and rocksteady music from the 1960's. The crude recording techniques employed at the time may have been the staple diet of Jamaica's recording studios during the Sixties, but the passing of time and the lure of nostalgia have added an etheral 'magic' to recordings from that classic, bygone era. Listen to any old vinyl record from forty years ago or more, and the 'top end' of the EQ will almost certainly sound distorted through years of use. Erin has even taken great lengths to replicate this 'flaw' of ageing vinyl to convincing effect as the album's opening track 'Stole Your Mind' clearly boasts.

'Volume 2' isn't just a courtesy nod to retro-production chic though. Indeed, the thirteen track CD has some cracking good songs on it too. 'Swindon Train' is my personal favourite, a swooping, slow tempo instrumental, and a worthy contender for any of the timeless genre-defining instrumentals penned by the likes of The Upsetters or Harry J & The Allstars. Instrumentals aside, Erin Bardwell's latest offering also boasts some well considered lyrics too, most notably 'We Are One', a stark observation of worldwide political corruption at the hands of drugs trafficking.

Since the Pop-A-Top label was launched in 2003, co-founders Erin Bardwell and Johnny Rench have stuck to their principals and maintained a reassuringly high standard throughout the imprint's ever-growing back catalogue. I'm sure they already have more treats in store for 2007. In the meantime though, 'The Erin Bardwell Collective Vol. 2' is available direct from the label's website. File under 'Excellent'.

As well as many decent album releases, 2006 seems to have been a great year for re-issues too. Indeed, October saw the re-issue of the highly acclaimed 'Avon Calling' Bristol compilation album. Conceived by Heartbeat Records in the heady days of '70's punk rock, this legendary compilation showcasing local talent of the time, has remained an essential (yet, sadly long since deleted) part of the west country's rich musical heritage.

Heartbeat Records, based in Clifton, had the honour of being Bristol's first ever independent record label. Set up in 1978 to provide a platform for a vibrant generation of punk and 'new wave' bands from around the city, the fledgling label soon became home to acclaimed acts such as The Glaxo Babies, Vice Squad, The X-Certs and The Europeans. The label was

initially co-founded by two local musicians Simon Edwards and Tony Todd, the latter going on to run the now legendary shop 'Tony's Records' on Park Street (later Imperial). With several singles already under their belts, Heartbeat Records went on to encapsulate Bristol's vibrant new-wave scene with the flagship 'Avon Calling' compilation released in 1979. The 15 track platter quickly generated well deserved critical acclaim, giving Bristol's wealth of bands an audience far beyond the west country. John Peel even hailed Avon Calling as "The compilation by which all others should now be judged".

Heartbeat made a brief reappearance in the mid 1990's releasing material by international acts, most notably, an album by American 60's psychedelic legends The Electric Prunes. Older Wunderbar regulars may also remember Paulton's very own new-generation punk hopefuls The Merics, whose wonderful single 'Imaginary Girlfriend' released in 2000 was another addition to the relaunched Heartbeat Productions back catalogue.

Complete with pages of local commentary from the time, The CD re-issue of 'Avon Calling' boasts a bonus disc which chronicles the complete Heartbeat Singles back catalogue, forming a well documented, tastefully packaged testament to Bristol's rich musical heritage, a must for fans of punk rock and local music historians alike. Don't be put off by the near thirty-year-old age tag. In today's ever-predictable climate of corporate-sponsored pseudo-skater-punk, this healthy slice of local music history still sounds truly refreshing, nearly three decades on!

Anyway folks, sorry there aren't any live music reviews this time round. Let's face it, you were all there. You already KNOW how good the Festive Season's entertainment at the Wunderbar was! You don't need the meanderings of a fanatical idiot babbling on about it. Hmmm. Maybe that's one New Year's resolution you might be pleased to see me KEEPING! Anyone seen my teeth?

OK folks, who fancies making a quick buck? I only ask Dear Reader, because
in September, the Evening Post revealed that a local teacher had won a
£115,000 compensation payout from Bristol City Council after tripping up on
loose carpeting. The disclosure came a week after the paper reported that
the Council had sent letters to hundreds of flat tenants telling them to
remove doormats from the hallways outside their front doors for health and
safety reasons. Compensation claims against the City Council amounted to
£780,000 in the past year. So come on folks, if anyone out there has an old
frayed carpet that they wouldn't mind me 'accidentally' tripping up on, why
don't we simply split the money between us?

Speaking of costly slips up, I felt really sorry for Las Vegas casino mogul
Steve Wynn last month when he ripped a hole through his prized Picasso
painting. Oops! Mr Wynn, known for gesturing profusely with his hands while
speaking, was showing off the painting at a cocktail party in his office
when he struck the canvas with his right elbow leaving a gash the size of a
Dollar bill in the exhibit. To add to the trouble, Mr Wynn had just

finalised the sale of the 1932 painting entitled 'Le Rêve' to art collector
Steven Cohen for a cool $139m. Needless to say, the deal is now off. Well
readers, if Picasso went through his famous Blue Period, then I guess
Steve Wynn is going through a blue period of his own at the moment!

Now then, I'd been eagerly awaiting Santa Dog's September appearance at the
Wunderbar for quite some time. Despite a disappointing turn out for what was
for me was a hotly tipped billing, Santa Dog nonetheless shone through with
an intimate performance of their sunny-side-up thinking-person's pop. In an
ever predictable climate of macho-minded indie-rock, it's so refreshing to
see a band who cleverly balance slick style with pure, unashamed 'pop'. The
Bristol based four-piece rekindle a nostalgic spirit of big jangly guitars,
bristling melody and cool girl fronted charm. Personally, I've taken a real
shine to this band since hearing their rather excellent self-released
Chemical EP from last year.

Santa Dog aren't your average shambling twee-pop band though. No. Instead,
their bright, summery pop is punctuated with a dark sinister twist,
resulting in glorious pop songs, accessible to many, yet reassuringly
intellectual to boot. Think Blondie meets One Thousand Violins. They even

play an Undertones cover that ISN Teenage Kicks - how refreshing is
that! These guys are seriously good musicians too. Indeed, guitarist Rob
Williams cranks up his vintage AC30 playing in a jangly style akin to The
Bunnymen or Johnny Marr. The band's line-up has recently been augmented by
bassist Rob Ash, who Wunderbar regulars will remember from fellow Bristol
popsters The Mighty Stars. Santa Dog resolutely place the capital P back
in Pop with cool, effortless charm. Let's hope they make a welcome return
to the Wunderbar soon.

Now folks, it's funny how history has a habit of repeating itself, and I
don't just mean the ever recurring vacancy in the Swindon Town Manager's
office! In the crazy world of pop music, it seems that the old phrase 'what
goes around comes around' also rings true. C86, a term used to denote a
do-it-yourself indie genre some twenty years old, is once more being
banded about by hip kids and industry insiders alike! It seems, Dear reader,
that good old-fashioned 'indie pop' is suddenly trendy again, only this
time, ironically enough, fully endorsed by the music industry mainstream.

The term 'C86' was spawned from a cassette given away free with the NME back
in (yep, you guessed it folks) 1986, in the days when the weekly oracle was
more of a socialist tabloid compared to it's present day glossy successor.
The cassette showcased a batch of new anyone-can-have-a-go scratchy
indie-pop bands epitomised by basin haircuts, anoraks, jangly guitars and
a cute sexual feyness, all simultaneously being championed by John Peel. The
early careers of bands such as The Wedding Present, Half Man Half Biscuit,
Fuzzbox and an embryonic Primal Scream (before they wanted to be The Rolling
Stones) were kick-started by their appearance on the tracklisting.

Thanks to the West-country's own 'DIY' record labels such as Subway and
Sarah Records, Bristol soon became regarded as a national hub for indie-pop
during the late '80's. Many aspiring John Peel bands travelled from further
afield to play at the now legendary Tropic Club in their fledgling years
(Bristol's possible only answer to CBGB's), including bands such as My
Bloody Valentine and The Soup Dragons, before they went all baggy on us and
ultimately bagged a number one hit single in the process.

A little known scene even at the time, 'C86' was loved by some, loathed by
others. For it's critics, it was a case of The Smiths being shamefully
responsible for spawning a thousand shambolic bedsit-bands in their wake.
For it's devotees however, it was an invigorating time when the spirit of
punk had been reinvented with all the camp style of early '80's icons such
as Orange Juice and Aztec Camera. Either way, the impending rise of
'Madchester' and the indie-dance epidemic of 1990 was to ultimately usher in
another new generation of indie bands. 'C86' was subsequently resigned to
the dustbin of post-punk nostalgia.

Bizarrely, the original cassette has been changing hands on Ebay for
ludicrous sums recently. Given that this is a mouldy old cassette, and some
twenty years old at that, the exaggerated price tags seem absurd! Remember
Dolby anyone? So readers, maybe it's worth hanging on to those often
annoying free cover-discs given away with magazines. You never know, just
like Steve Wynn's Picasso, they could be worth a bob or two in years to
come. In the meantime, for the discerning pop-picker wishing to hear ŒC86¹
bands in a more 'modern' format, somewhat inevitably, a re-hash of the
original compilation titled 'CD86' has just been released by Castle Records
in good time to make Christmas stocking fillers. That's assuming of course,
that today's pop-kids still wear stockings!

Now, one disappointment from an otherwise fantastic live music schedule at

the Wunderbar last month was a cancellation by Forest Giants due to 'drummer problems'. (Incidentally folks, why do drummers take all the stick? - Stick? Geddit?) Anyway, Forest Giants, another Grade 'A' pop band from Bristol, may have missed their Wunderbar gig recently, but luckily enough, they DID leave us a promo copy of their latest album 'Welcome To The Mid-West'. Needless to say, this 11 track scorcher has been pumping from the Wunderbar Press Office stereo regularly ever since. Throughout the album, driving rhythms with big fat bass hooks are glazed over with warm, fuzzy guitar and shamelessly simple deadpan vocal melodies. Think New Order meet Yo La Tengo. The synth-driven pounding of 'Planes Fly Overhead' is worthy of competing with anything you're likely to hear by today's chart topping indie-bands.
Meanwhile, the shoegazing 'Closure' boasts sharp, scathing lyrics reminiscent of McCarthy, delivered on a thick carpet of warm guitar drone.

So, was Forest Giants front man Tim Rippington influenced at all by C86?
Afraid not. He helped CREATE it! Yes, Tim's been making music (as well as
following the best team in Bristol) since the 1980's. Likewise, bassist Ruth
was in the mighty Blue Aeroplanes. Not surprising then that 'Welcome To The
Mid-West', released by Cherryade Records, comes with a healthy 'thumbs up'
Wunderbar seal of approval. Nice one Guys. We just hope you get your gig
rescheduled soon!

Well folks, that's about it from me, other than to wish you all a great
Christmas. Wilb's been working hard to get a December itinerary that's second
to none, so see you there! 'Yule' be glad you came! (Sorry, Ed).

With September's mild chill gently punctuating the air and the shorter
evenings marking the last breath of summer, it's a time for reflection as
the glorious long summer holidays finally draw to their inevitable close.
After a more than fair summer hiatus here at Wunderbar HQ, generously
granted by our Guv'nor whilst the offices were closed for renovation, my
esteemed colleagues and I have enjoyed a much appreciated break. So,
apologies dear reader for the lack of updates over the past few months.
Inescapably though, it is time once more to expectantly return to work,
sharpen those pencils, iron those collars and fill our notepads once more
with journalistic scoops from our 'what we did in our summer holidays'
experiences. In a diligent effort to create the right impression in the eyes
of our much respected boss, I also have in my possession, a freshly picked
apple, neatly wrapped in a white napkin, and packed carefully in my satchel,
ready to present to the Guv'nor upon my inevitable return.

A personal 'pick of the pops' from the summer live music itinerary at The
Wunderbar were The Elephant Rescue Plan. This three-piece from Newport,
South Wales, deliver hard-edged pop tones similar to Mega City Four or The
60ft Dolls. Their razor-sharp songs are driving, dynamic, and best of all,
shamelessly simple.

'Blowing smoke rings in the afternoon, leaning out the
window of your sister's room' beckons the voyeuristic slant of their opening
song 'Fifteen', an infectious punk-pop gem about everyday life and teenage
apathy. Meanwhile, the excellently titled 'Trophyless Season' (hope that¹s
not a dig at us Gasheads guys) delivers a high octane riff-o-rama similar to
Smashing Pumpkins or Soulwax. The Elephant Rescue Plan cleverly tread the
fine border between cool pop sensibility and slap-in-your-face rock. It's
especially good to see decent out-of-town bands making an appearance at The
Wunderbar, adding a balance with our own home-grown talent. I only hope that
when these guys made their long way home, they stuck to the 'trunk' roads.
Geddit? (Sorry, Ed!).

OK pop kids, if you like your music raw as a tray of warm sushi, then check
out a new single released by those clever people at 'Killing Moon'
promotions. The club night has been running regular punk-pop showcases in
Bath and Bristol for the past few years now. Recently though, Killing Moon
have expanded their empire to becoming a record label as well. The first
release is a split seven inch single featuring two tracks a piece by top
Bath bands Rusty Springfield and Bloody Tourists. Firstly, hats off for
deciding to make this a vinyl offering. As any regular gig goer will know,
many bands are simply resigned to giving away CDs at gigs these days. Vinyl,
by contrast, has become more of a 'must have' souvenir for the discerning
collector. How refreshing it was then, to walk home from the September's
Rusty Springfield / Bloody Tourists double header at the Wunderbar, eagerly
clutching a shiny platter of good old fashioned vinyl in my hands. Great
stuff guys!

Rusty Springfield experienced a personnel shake-up earlier this year,
recruiting new drummer Ed who was formerly with the rather magnificent Green
Guns. The line-up change has marked a pronounced new direction for the band.
The trio now augment their shouty garage-punk with a newly acquired skeletal
rockabilly twang. Think "Off The Bone" by The Cramps played by the Jon
Spencer Blues Explosion. Rusty Springfield's two cuts on the seven inch
single, 'Trash' and 'Gorilla', are pounding lo-fi gems that accurately
capture their raw live edge.

On the flip side, Bloody Tourists, a band much praised here at
wunderbar.co.uk kick off their half of the record with a great new song, the
sharp witted 'Funland' proving that the band's lyrical debasement is simply
getting better than ever. 'Steve the pornographer knows my girlfriend'
shouts singer Lee on the song's shamelessly catchy garage-punk hookline. The
trio's other inclusion on the single is their degenerate live favourite
'Gram And A Half', captured here on vinyl at last. If the quality of Killing
Moon's first release is anything to go by, let's hope they have more
releases in the proverbial pipeline soon.

OK, so who¹s caught a bus recently? I only ask dear reader, because it seems
that a bus journey these days firstly involves the strangely old fashioned
idea of getting 'cash' to pay for your ticket! Indeed, on my discerning
gig-going travels of late, I've found myself rummaging through the piggy box
at home for loose coins, knowing that the cheerful driver on my impending
journey would scowl at me if I didn't produce the exact coinage to pay for
my fare. Why can't the bus companies join the chip and pin revolution like
everybody else? A simple card reader placed by the door would surely
alleviate the unnecessary stress caused to our weary bus drivers who
otherwise face the dubious task of counting piles of coppers in their
collection trays before pulling off (if you'll once again, excuse the
expression my friends).

Approaching the bus stop with pockets jangling louder than a Charles Kennedy
bottle bank, I readily decided to check the arrival time of the next bus
bound for Bath. It was reassuring to discover that vandals hadn't (as I had
almost expected) attacked the bus shelter and ripped the timetable away from
it¹s frame. What a relief - or so I thought! Unfortunately, it quickly
struck me that some clever person from the bus company had placed the WRONG
TIMETABLE at the bus stop! This was in fact, the timetable designed for the
bus stop on the opposite side of the road! Confusing huh? Anyway, whilst
waiting for the bus, I began dreaming of a sophisticated hi-tech future when
Google Earth steps into 'real time' and we could all wait at the bus stop,
open up our Korean built 'Wi-Bro' wap phones, log-on to Google Earth and see
exactly how far down the road the bus is - all in live motion! I'm sure its
coming, that's assuming of course, that public transport is still around in
the future. Let's face it folks, in the golden age of steam, long before the
devastating axe of the Beeching Report, it would've seemed absurd to think
that a rail link between Norton Hill and London, then no-doubt taken for
granted, would've one day been rendered obsolete. Oh well. Beggars can¹t be
choo-choo-choosers I suppose!

Now, last month saw the release of an album which has been a very long time
in the making. 'The Drift' is the first album by Scott Walker in eleven
years. Finally completed, it was released by 4AD label in August.

In the early 1960's, Scott Walker was part of the world famous Walker
Brothers. Originally from Los Angeles, the trio soon relocated to London
where they gained worldwide success with timeless pop ballads such as 'Make
It Easy On Yourself' and 'No Regrets', many of them written by the
legendary song writing partnership of Burt Bacharach and Hal David.

Mental health problems led to The Walker Brothers splitting up in 1967.
Scott Walker had everything by this time - fame, wealth and a worldwide
audience. However, he turned his back on the trappings of success, opting
instead for an uncompromising solo career that would take his music far awayf rom the commercial appeal that had given The Walker Brothers their global success. Scott had discovered the dark intense music of Jacques Brel, a
composer who would eventually lead Walker to experiment with a dark mixture of cabaret, folk, cinematic orchestration and deeply emotional lyrics
delivered in a voice reminiscent of Frank Sinatra. Walker produced four
eponymous albums with Jacques Brel between 1967 and 1969, all of
which are regarded as noir classics, and name-checked to this day by artists
such as Pulp, Divine Comedy and Radiohead.

Renowned for his reclusive nature, Walker's activity was sporadic during the
1980's. The highly experimental album "Tilt" emerged in 1995, which in my
opinion, is one of the most 'difficult' and challenging albums I've ever
heard. Scott later went on to produce Pulp's 'We Love Life' album released
in 2001 as well as curating the London South Bank Centre music festival in
2003. Walker signed to 4AD in 2004 and "The Drift" is the first album from
rock's private maverick genius in eleven years. There's nothing remotely
commercial or compromising on the album. Indeed, in places, conventional
instruments have been abandoned altogether, recording instead by hammering
joints of meat to create percussive sounds and rhythms! If you like your
music challenging, this album could definitely be for you. With Scott Walker
still looking great at the grand age of 63, it goes to show that cutting
edge music isn¹t necessary a young person's game.

Finally dear reader, I see that South Korea, the world's most 'wired up'
country, is rushing to turn science fiction into everyday life. Apparently,
the government has assigned an army of scientists and business leaders to
turn household robots into full members of society! From next year,
residents of Seoul, the South Korean Capital, will be living with domestic
robots capable of relaying messages to parents, teaching children English
and entertaining family members when they are bored. These domestic robots
are scheduled to enter mass production by next year. Outside the home, they
are designed for public duties such as guiding customers to post offices and
searching properties for intruders. Oh Sang Rok, Manager of the Ministry's
intelligent service robot project, declared - 'If all goes according to
plan, robots will be in every South Korean household between 2015 and 2020'.
In the meantime, if Midsomer Norton gets anything as sophisticated as a
change machine on our local buses, I guess we should be thankful.

Until next time, Ching! Ching!

Does anybody here understand those strange sports in the Winter Olympics? I'm blowed if I do. I always assumed that Curling in Turino was some sort of gyrating bowel movement. As for racing down a tunnel of ice on a doormat, I'm sorry, but that looks positively scarier than a shooting trip with Dick Chaney.

Stranger still, is that public display of record industry improvidence known as 'The Brits'. Now, with all last year's talk of music helping to raise awareness of poverty in the developing world, I can't help wondering how many African orphanages could've been funded by the costs of hosting this shameful display of wasteful extravagance, not to mention the tab for all that back-stage coke to which the security staff had to no doubt turn a proverbial blind eye. Normally, I would do my utmost best to avoid this sensational TV entertainment at all costs, but seeing as our very own Wunderbar A&R Manager Wilb received an invite to this year's Award Ceremony, I thought it prudent to show some sort of interest. So, I hastily switched on the television to see if I could spot the illustrious Wilb flaunting his TV dinner jacket, once again rubbing shoulders (and maybe that's not all folks) with the musical elite. As you no doubt already know Dear Reader, Wilb has acquired quite a taste for the hi-life recently, especially since attending Sir Elton's Wedding. To add to the sheer decadence of things, I understand he'd even secured a seat on the Brit Awards table plan alongside fellow judge-of-all- things-rock Gene Simmons. What a roller coaster ride of events those Brit Awards turned out to be, especially with ex-army Officer James Blunt scooping something equivalent to an Oscar. I wonder why this irritatingly pleasant little man isn't still in the army? Maybe singing 'You're Beautiful' to barracks full of muscle-clad marines was too much for even the toughest of boot camps to handle. Personally, I haven't heard of a singing soldier since Windsor Davies and Don Estelle sang 'Whispering Grass' in 1975 on the classic TV series 'It Ain't 'Alf Hot Mum', two uniformed crooners who, to be honest, I feel were far more worthy of Award winning status.

What with cheeky Britpop newcomers The Kaiser Chiefs singing their anthemic 'I predict a pay-out' to an audience of Middle Class fat-cats sipping champagne in tuxedos and ball-gowns, it hardly seems the environment that such a crazily anarchistic tune would suggest. Even stalwart performer Paul Weller was seen adorning a well groomed Jennifer Aniston style haircut. I was glad to see him get a Lifetime Achievement Award though. The bloke deserves it in my book. After all, 25 years on, there still aren't many song lyrics that can stand up to the sheer angst and razor-sharp observation of 'Eton Rifles' or 'Down In A Tube Station At Midnight'. It seems that these days, mainstream British music has become a ghastly mirror-image of Hollywood, where image, gossip and celebrity sleaze have become just as important as anything to do with, well, music. Maybe we should host a Wunderbar Award Ceremony next year? I'm sure the booze-fuelled back-stage antics of our home-grown local talent would make for good reading, that's assuming of course, that the local Paparazzi would be prepared to cover something that isn't directly associated with the Cheese 'n' Grain.

With the most popular Christmas present of 2005 being the portable MP3 player, I suppose my trusty cassette 'Walkman' bought in 1983, boasting it's then hi-tech fast-forward, rewind and eject features should finally be resigned to the loft after all these years. It's not that I'm embarrassed about any lack of 'street cred' (after all, the only styles I knew about as a kid were the things you climbed over in the country), it's just that I don't want to drop the bloody thing on my foot! Besides, attempting to carry it around whilst performing the Jane Fonda fitness workout proved to be almost impossible at the best of times! With many recording artists now receiving as much money from a download of their songs as a conventional retail sale, I guess it's hardly surprising that the technological revolution of downloading has been readily embraced by the music industry. However, with iTunes currently charging 79p per track, regardless of how long or short that track may be, the download isn't necessarily the cheaper option for the consumer though. Let's take for example, the latest album by Boards Of Canada, which at 79p per track for 15 tracks, works out at £11.85 to download the album from iTunes. With the average retailer selling the CD for £10.00, you get deluxe fold-out artwork as well as a superior audio quality for almost £2 less! Although it does mean having to make that weary trek to your nearest record store.

Even the once hi-tech rival to good old fashioned vinyl - the compact disc, seems to be an old-fashioned format now as far as new generations are concerned. Cumbersome record boxes, ugly pine-effect speakers, burgeoning wall-brackets and trails of tangled phono leads tacked around the skirting board are, it seems, no longer necessary requirements for the discerning home music enthusiast, especially when an entire music collection can be neatly filed away on your PC or iPod. Personally speaking, whilst I'd rather have the special gatefold embossed artwork, not to mention some sort of pizza-sized platter to lovingly caress before carefully placing it on a gently revolving spindle, it is nonetheless, easy to see how attractive new technology is to today's more techno-minded music fan. Indeed, according to the IFPI, the 'digital' market has quite notably, already overtaken the value of the entire global singles market!

The whole idea of the single may be in decline, but it's good to know that some musicians, even our own local acts, are helping to keep the spirit of vinyl alive. Pop-A-Top Records, based partly in Midsomer Norton and partly in Swindon, have begun resurrecting the spirit of vinyl with a recent release by multi-talented reggae maestro Johnny Rench. Hot on the heels of last year's 'Man Cool Rides Again' album, Johnny has come up trumps again with his follow-up 'You're The One' which has been pressed exclusively as a seven inch single.

Johnny and The Pop-A-Top Allstars have gone to painstaking lengths to re-create the original lo-fidelity recording techniques associated with those original ska and rocksteady records made in Jamaica during the mid 1960's. The result is a truly irresistible 'rocksteady' style tune centred around a thumping trumpet hookline and a stunningly simple heart-warming vocal melody. This is great stuff!

Reggae has it's roots in the American rhythm and blues records of the 1950's that would be imported into Jamaica to play at record-hops, sort of early day sound-systems. Outdoor dances took place where revellers would travel from the outskirts of Kingston and beyond to witness 'the selector' (or DJ) playing all the popular hits. Jamaica soon began producing it's own music by taking these blues rhythms and adding a stabbing back-beat to the second note of each bar, giving reggae it's

characteristic sound. The hi-energy up-tempo nature of 'Ska' as it was first known, was soon thwarted by an unusually hot summer in 1966 that led to the music being slowed down due to the intolerable heat. This led to a slower version of the music known as 'Rocksteady'. Many of Jamaica's pioneering artists from the 1960's, names such as Laurel Aitken, Prince Buster and Derrick Morgan remain highly respected today, and reggae music in general has been a huge influence on everyone from Stevie Wonder to the Rolling Stones and beyond.

Midsomer Norton's very own Johnny Rench has done extremely well with keeping the earthy feel of his new single totally accurate to those fledgling days of the great reggae era. The fact that it's on seven inch vinyl, complete with an instrumental version on the flip-side, only adds to the sheer authenticity of this lovely little release, and watching it revolve on your turntable, rather than simply sliding away into a CD tray, only adds to the music's irresistible charm. 'You're The One' is just the first in a string of seven inch singles that Johnny plans to release during 2006, and they will all, no doubt be a worthy addition to anyone's budding vinyl collection. Being strictly limited edition too, it's all the more reason to grab a copy while you can. The record is available now for a paltry £3 from The Wunderbar, from BA3 in Midsomer Norton High Street, or direct from www.popatoprecords.co.uk

With new technology changing the way we listen to music in this hi-tech digital age, it's great to know some record labels and bands who are prepared to take the risk, are still seeing the values of old listening formats in a new 'retro' cool kind of way. Hey! maybe I won't put that old Walkman in the loft just yet after all. C-30, C-60, C-90 Go!

As usual, by the time February approaches, most of those new year's resolutions have already been forgotten. The 'new year's resolution', that great symbol of human resilience, encourages us to set goals for self-improvement, maybe to stop smoking, lose weight or get fit. However, studies suggest that only a third of us who make these resolutions actually keep them. Indeed, my own resolutions to give up taping people's doorbell's down with duct tape, slipping anti-shoplifting tags into people's jacket pockets, and hiding Jer Hunt's pint when he goes to the loo, have already fallen by the wayside, and I hereby apologise to Stew and Wilb for any embarrassment that may have been caused to the Wunderbar patrons by my lack of resolve. However, it's good to know that we can all look to President George W. Bush as a shining example of good 'house cleaning' during the new year. Indeed, reports claim that the President has fixed the burgeoning US economic problems by arranging to hand ownership of hurricane-torn Louisiana back to the French!

In the year 1800, colonial Louisiana became the possession of Napoleon's France after the American Seven Year War. However, in 1803 the United States carried out the famous "Louisiana Purchase" gaining ownership of the territory, and most notably, the settlement of New Orleans. Today, a senior US economic adviser has apparently revealed that the White House will offer to give Louisiana back to France along with a full refund for the famous Louisiana Purchase two centuries ago. There's nothing like a clean sweep for the new year is there?

Now Dear Reader, imagine the scenario. It's the summer of 1978, punk-rock's limited scope has become the very catalyst for it's quick demise, and a new breed of post-punk bands are quickly filling the void in punk's wake. We're jam packed into a dark sweaty corner of the Roxy, London WC2 waiting for a band to take the stage. Maybe Wire? Maybe Magazine? Maybe Slaughter & The Dogs? Well, actually it's The Wunderbar on a cold January evening, nearly thirty years later. Tonight's band? 'Bloody Tourists'. The word 'punk' is so readily quoted these days, but pub-level punk has often ended up as a comical parody of itself over the years.

Bloody Tourists however, are the real thing in my book. These guys really do sound like they could've been playing at The Roxy or the 100 Club all those years ago. In recent years, members of Bloody Tourists have appeared in many guises at The Wunderbar, including Moneyshot and Cognito, and it seems these guys simply love performing, whether it be in covers bands or playing their own exceptionally good tunes. Bloody Tourists, the latest incarnation, is three peice band formed in early 2005. The band's rough, spiky punk-pop bears all the abrasiveness of Pere Ubu's classic "Modern Dance" period and is delivered with a skeletal rawness, both shamelessly simple and feverishly provocative. The drummer chooses to ditch those cumbersome tom-toms in favour of a back-to-basics two peice kit which always scores instant Brownie points in my book. The band's outstanding lyrics are voyeuristic observations, comfortably set in the depths of personal depravity, stories about drug dealers, hookers, domestic violence and cheap thrills. The debasive "Shanghai Low" recounts a sordid tale of "China Red in her underwear, leading me up three flights of stairs". Likewise, the degenerate "Gram And A Half" kicks off with "In a block of flats not far from here, lives my girlfriend with a dealer". Bloody Tourists take us to a harsh world of brutality and degradation.

What set that first generation of punk bands in the Seventies apart from their successors was surely their influences. Later generations of punk bands already had the blueprint written for them, but the original punks were true innovators who drew their influences from spheres far beyond the realms of guitar wielding rebels. Many bands such as The Ruts and The Clash leaned towards reggae, whilst other bands like The Undertones and The Jam were influenced by Motown as their later albums clearly show. This first wave of punk was a true melting pot of influences that came together to form an intoxicating rock 'n' roll hybrid. However, that initial momentum, like most 'shock' events, became watered down over the years, swallowed up by the mainstream, commercialised and repackaged for consumer-friendly mass appeal. It means that these days, 'punk' seems to be about MTV pumping out mainstream American pretty-boy college brats posing as rock 'n' roll outcasts, all of whom are of course, on the corporation payroll.

Bloody Tourists however, much like those original punk bands, steer well clear of any quick-fix punk-by-numbers template currently in vogue. Indeed, there are elements of Hendrix and The Velvet Underground as well as The Stooges and MC5. I wonder whether these guys have a copy of 'Pink Flag' in their record collections too. Even a well chosen cover version of the Talking Heads chart anthem 'Road To Nowhere' not only lends itself well to the Bloody Tourists set list, but also highlights the Talking Heads roots in the New York punk scene of the Seventies - a seemingly squeaky-clean chart topper broken down into it's base elements reveals what is essentially, still a punk rock song at heart. I'm sure even David Byrne himself would have approved of this invigorating version! Great stuff. Some of those new year's resolutions may already have been forgotten, but it looks like the calendar of events on the Wunderbar's live music schedule is as strong as ever. What a great start to 2006!

Now, with rather suspicious marketing techniques holding back the Arctic Monkeys debut until people's first pay cheques of the new year arrive (rather a strange coincidence don't you think?), let's not forget some of the lesser hyped, but equally well deserving releases to have hit the stores recently. One eagerly awaited release on my shopping list was the DVD documentary 'Honky Tonk Blues', celebrating the life of Hank Williams. If ever there was a TRUE rock 'n' roll outcast, a TRUE contender for the spirit of the 'punk rock' ethic, then Hank Williams was surely it. However, in Hank's time, rock 'n' roll hadn't even been invented! Without him though, the course of history towards the ensuing rock 'n' roll revolution would've been very different. I've often heard Hank Williams described as the first true hero of country music, and his short, much troubled life it seems, became an inspiration for Elvis Presley and everything that followed.

Williams sang endearing simple songs about his own life. Titles such as 'Your Cheatin' Heart' have become timeless standards, whilst sorrowful tales such as 'You Win Again' and 'I'm A Lone Gone Daddy' openly bear the misery and heartache inspired by William's turbulent marriage with his wife come manager Audrey Williams.

Born in 1923, Hank Williams suffered from spina bifida, a birth defect that was to leave the performer with constant back pain leading to a dependency on alcohol, morphine and other painkillers that would ultimately spiral out of control.

His drink and drugs dependence reached such a point that he would regularly miss concerts or would show up too drunk to play. On January 1st 1953, Williams was being chauffeured to a gig in Canton, Ohio. It would be his last. Before leaving, he took an overdose and left carrying a bottle of whiskey. The chauffer later discovered Williams had died en-route in the back seat of his Cadillac. He was just 29, yet his legacy is ageless. Personally speaking, Hank Williams is one of my favourite songwriters, simply because you can feel the raw emotions from his heart calling out to the listener from these simple, woeful songs. Hank Williams was surely music's original 'rebel' and makes the behaviour of today's Pete Doherty and pals seem somewhat slapstick in comparison. 'Honky Tonk Blues - The life of Hank Williams', originally made for BBC2's 'Arena' series is available on DVD now, sadly not stocked at your average record store, but readily available through internet stores. Yee-har!

New Year may be seen as a time of change, but it was a bit of a shock to turn up at the Wunderbar News Office bright and early on Monday morning to find a young Mr. Hobbs sitting at my desk, readily helping himself to my treasured Lapsang Suchong, throwing my copy of the Arctic Monkeys Bootleg into the shredder, and preparing an outrageous travel expense claim from Firstbus. Changes? As if things weren't already strange enough, especially with the Alker Seltzer losing it's battle against a hangover the size of a Byzantine empire.

"Great!" I thought. After all, I'd been trying to secure an interview with local pop supremos The House Of Lords for some months now, and here we are, the lead singer drops in at the press office for a one-on-one (if you'll forgive the expression). On closer inspection, I noticed he had even pushed aside my trusty typewriter, replacing it with one of those shiny hi-tech computer note books. Shocking! I mean, aren't they supposed to be called 'lap-tops'?

So, why do they still sit on the desk? Adding to the disturbance was one of those little white walkman things that doesn't play tapes - but instead, magically reproduces music from some sort of electronic file. Even the seemingly harmless biro looked a little suspicious. I was half expecting the young scallywag's ball-point to be some sort of fibre-optic camera, capable of broadcasting a pixel map of my tonsils onto his flat-screened monitor, and I dare say, to all of cyber-space as well. "We should be thankful though" I sighed. After all, not even Wendy Walker and the notorious Wessex Paparazzi enjoy playing with these kind of gadgets - and they're PROPER journalists with an office in the High Street's ultra-chic 'Cottle's Corner' (Norton's discerning equivalent to Fleet Street).

Once the Guv'nor arrived, bringing with him a sense of stern, yet fair authority, he produced from his bulging briefcase a well polished Granny Smith, bundled in a neatly wrapped white handkerchief. He preceded to hand it to the young Hobbs. The Guv'nor explained, "Hobbs is going to be working with us Pickwick. Is that OK with you?" Well, of course that's OK. In fact, it's a pleasure, even if the Lapsang had been somewhat diminished since the pre-Christmas stock-take. After all, we could have lost his journalistic prowess to The Frome Standard. The young Hobbs might then have been earmarked to review Wishbone Ash at the Cheese 'n' Grain, a top journalistic assignment if ever there was one. What a sacrifice for the young reporter to make, just to join our fledgling team. Welcome aboard my son! Just one thing my friend, how do you turn this bloody lap-top on?

Now Pop Pickers, if you've ever wondered why Wilb's Rock Page is a little slow on the updates at times, it's because his desk here at Wunderbar HQ is rarely occupied. His phone however, never stops ringing, his in-tray is always burgeoning under the weight of CDs, demo tapes, record label promos and bribes the size of a Bruce Grobbelaar match fix, not to mention the kind of hip party invites that only executive members of the Tate Modern would otherwise be privy to. However, his absence is not without good reason. He's always out and about, scouting for young musical talent, whilst naturally, enjoying the spoils of the rock 'n' roll high life, rubbing shoulders with the musical elite and hanging out ( if you'll pardon the expression again my friends ) with a general 'who's who' of the entertainment industry. The rest of us meanwhile, remain here at the news room and take his calls. His tireless social hob-nobbing does however, ensure that you and I get our twice weekly fix of 'on-the-pulse' live music at The Wunderbar. I must give Wilb his due, November and December 2005 saw a calendar of events at the bar that was absolutely top notch! Left Side Brain's now legendary acoustic set, The Big, The Dirty Whites and Les Pwe Blo are just a few highlights from the end-of-year

schedule to mention. One of my personal favourites of the season though, came by way of Midsomer Norton's very own southern-fried rockers Angel, Isles & Morris.

Firstly, hats off to any three-peice band. It's jolly hard work, and there's no room for the 'let the other guitarist play the correct chords if you've forgotten them yourself' let-offs that more personnel can offer. Over the past few years, we've seen Angel, Isles & Morris steadily get better and better, firstly in their embryonic guise as 'The Stitches', then earlier this year, in a brief incarnation as 'Mia West'. Choosing to settle for their more recognised 'A.I.M.' moniker, the trio can boast a very reassuring 'NOW' sound to their music, just ripe for mass appeal in my book. An eclectic melting- pot of influences helps to define their sound - from Crosby, Stills & Nash to The Who, from The Small Faces to the Velvet Underground, these guys obviously have half-decent record collections, and fundamentally, a broad-minded musical education to draw from. A.I.M.'s trump card however, is their mesmeric stage presence. They simply ooze with confidence and self-belief. And why shouldn't they? With shockingly simplistic hooks-to-die-for, mouth-watering harmonies, and an almost effortless grace, they're one band that cannot be overlooked easily. They aren't afraid to 'crank-it-up' an extra notch too. Indeed, Ben Angel's wall-of-noise guitar soars throughout the four walls of the bar thicker than a Hemel Hempstead bonfire, amplifiers locked firmly in overdrive, delivering those oh-so-catchy power- riffs, both bluesy and soulful, with towering effect.

Personally speaking, I've always loathed any element of competition within music, especially those

dreadful 'Battle Of The Bands' type of affairs. Competitive spirit? Leave that for the sports field, that's my philosophy. Nonetheless, I found it very impressive to see that Angel, Isles & Morris won the FOPP West of England unsigned band awards for 2004-5. As a result, the band were able to produce a neat 3 track EP entitled "From The Shore To The Core", released with some all-important retail backing. It's always a treat to see these guys play at the Wunderbar, and If A.I.M. get any better, who knows where they'll be playing in the not too distant future. Just one thing guys - don't forget to tell us if you change your name again! Highly Recommended stuff.

Now, whilst on a last minute lunchtime dash to get everything ready for the holiday period, I embarked on a rare trip to low-budget supermarket emporium Lidl. I just needed one item. Easy - or so I thought! To my horror, I discovered there was no express checkout in site! It was now a case of waiting in a twelve deep queue of heavily trolley-laden shoppers making their annual Chancellor-sized bulk-buys of unbranded German lager (or maybe it was cat food in those dull looking tins). With only half an hour to go before the Guv'nor expected me to report back for duty (and so as not to create an impression on the office new boy that we have no sense of time-keeping at Wunderbar HQ whatsoever), I decided to abandon my purchase altogether and instead, point the proverbial purse-strings somewhat begrudgingly, in the direction of Planet Tesco. To my dismay, I found plenty of express check-outs, but no-one operating them. It seems that 'self-service' has even replaced the checkout staff, which for an ageing techno-phobic like myself, is rather daunting. I suppose it's no wonder the Young'uns are taking over! Oh well, at least I got to replace the Lapsang Suchong.

Happy New Year Pop Pickers!

Traditionally, November seemed to be the busiest month of the year in Midsomer Norton's bustling calendar of social events. As a young boy, I looked forward with intrepid excitement to the week that the fair came to Welton, punctuated by the sickly-sweet smell of candy-floss, the crackling buzz of neon, the crisp autumnal air, and of course, the obligatory mass-scrap, not to mention groups of school boys waiting under the big wheel for their first glimpse of a girl's underwear! Not only was the fair in town for a week, but it coincided with Carnival night on the Thursday, all back in the days before the procession migrated south of the river to Westfield. Now, Dear Reader, I'm not implying that our humble parish had a bad reputation, but the Fair never returned to Norton after an entire hot dog stand was overturned by a gang of hot-headed revellers during a huge brawl! Our chilly November evenings have seemed somewhat uneventful in comparison ever since.

Of course, November 2005 saw the arrival of Sainsbury's to our ever expanding

metropolis. However, not even Midsomer Norton was deemed worthy enough to warrant an appearance by Jamie Oliver to cut the proverbial ribbon on the opening day! Maybe he was forewarned about the town's troublesome reputation and bottled out for fear of getting his camper van nicked. Possibly, he may have read travel writer Mark Moxon's recent account of the town's culinary regression and decided that tossing a Mexican spicy salad in the air whilst dancing around to Britpop stalwarts Toploader was just too much of a culture shock for us local townsfolk to handle. No Jamie Oliver? No Toploader casually dancing in the moonlight? Hey, maybe things ARE looking up for Norton after all!

At least top ska band The Big didn't see fit to miss a visit to Midsomer Norton during their busy schedule. These guys make me believe that live music (as opposed to it's recorded counterpart) simply cannot be beaten. Their sharp witted, infectious brand of ska is delivered with an effortless professionalism and it's not surprising to learn that the band have already notched up around 150 gigs this year so far. They have a wealth of experience to draw from too. Indeed, members of The Big have played alongside Bad Manners, Neville Staple and the whole band have guested on stage with The Beat. In addition to supporting such names, The Big have also performed with Desmond Dekker, The Selecter, The Skatalites and The Buzzcocks amongst many others.

As the band take to the stage, singer Ed Rome tells us 'It's good to be back in the

West Country where people actually speak to each other!' He stands an impressive 7ft tall and sings in a voice like Ian Dury. His huge stature was the very reason behind the band's rather apt name. Despite being conceived at Exeter University in 2000, the band's home base is Hockley in Essex, and their local area has provided the inspiration for some of their very witty, defacing lyrics.

The Big's invigorating cocktail of upbeat ska and witty social humour not only satisfies the fans of the 2-Tone revivalist era, but a fantastic choice of covers doffs the proverbial cap to the original Jamaican ska of the early 1960's too. Indeed, a fantastic punk-edged version of the early Peter Tosh classic 'Shame and Scandal' fits seamlessly amongst the band's own songs of similar subject matter. Meanwhile, the time-honoured Prince Buster favourite 'Whine And Grine' is another guaranteed crowd pleaser for fans both young and old. The band's own tunes are as strong as any of the choice covers here though. Titles such as 'Essex Wanker' and 'I Love Trains' as well as songs about teenage pregnancy and 'people from London with silly haircuts' ('They pretend to be in such a hurry, even though they were born in Surrey') are among many favourites pulled out of the bag for us tonight. Personally speaking, this has to be one of the most memorable Thursday nights at the Bar this year. Nice work guys!

Another much welcomed return to the Bar was by way of local post-rockers Blueneck who have been concentrating on a series of 'away gigs' recently. There was a time when the band's sheer amount of on-stage gear, together with the technical difficulties in operating it all made a live show by Blueneck quite a rare occasion. However, since the four-peice became part of the ultra-credible 'Don't Touch' label

roster, they've been given that all-too-important push towards taking their show on the road with more regularity, and as a result, the band have probably played more gigs in the last six months than the rest of their career put together! Concentrating on venues sympathetic to the type of music they purvey, Blueneck are now establishing themselves as fresh hopefuls in the UK's underground 'Post Rock' genre. Thanks to this growing, self-sufficient scene, Blueneck have been sharing a stage with similar minded bands across the country lately. Anticipating a recent gig in Manchester, singer Duncan Attwood revealed to me that he was concerned about the band coming across as 'Southern Softies!' On arrival though, his concerns couldn't have been more needless. Blueneck's driving, atmospheric stoner-rock has been greeted with unanimous enthusiasm wherever their schedule has taken them.

November's return to The Wunderbar served as a true homecoming for the band. Delivering a dynamic harder-edged set, much of the band's earlier 'floaty' ambience has now been superseded with a darker, menacing edge, most of which is taken from their current album 'Scars Of The Midwest'. Blueneck graciously make no compromises whatsoever with their music, and as a result, their creativity seems more personal than ever, but without danger of being self-indulgent. Ironically though, the band chose to end their Wunderbar set with a rare performance of their highly popular cover 'Eye Of The Tiger'. Dropped from their live set some two years ago, their unique rendition of Survivor's soft-rock anthem was given that certain 'Blueneck treatment' to take the song a million miles away from the original - a truly original cover, if that makes any sense! Blueneck may well be making waves further afield these days, but they haven't forgotten that they still have a devoted following close to home. Indeed, the band are making another appearance at the Wunderbar before the end of the year, playing an evening of Christmas songs, with support from Les Pwe Blo and guest appearances by members of Left Side Brain among others. In the meantime, if Blueneck ever get worried about being seen as 'Southern Softies' when they're playing up north next - just remember one thing guys - you're from the town where even the fair is TOO SCARED to come!

As 2005 draws to a close, my favourite news

story of the year concerned Mr. David Greenlaugh, Project Manager of the Spinnaker Tower in Portsmouth. Now, I guess we're all fed up of hearing the woeful tales of the notorious Bath Spa project. However, It seems that BANES isn't the only council saddled with the burden of a Millennium project gone horribly wrong. Indeed, the city of Portsmouth has endured it's own share of unprecedented financial burden (and I just don't mean Harry Redknap's payoff deal). The hi-tech architectural splendour of Spinnaker Tower in Portsmouth has become another ill-fated Millennium millstone, and another troublesome construction spiralling out of control at local taxpayers expense.

The magnificent Spinnaker Tower was however, finally completed just in time for the city's celebrations to mark the 200th Anniversary of Trafalgar. On 17th October, the tower was finally opened to the public, five years late and embarrassingly over budget. But what happened? The elevator shaft got stuck on the opening day, leaving none other than Mr. David Greenlaugh, the Project Manager, stuck inside the lift for over an hour! Wonderful stuff. Needless to say, when Her Majesty the Queen arrived in Portsmouth the following week for the Trafalgar Bi-centenary, she didn't venture anywhere near Spinnards Tower!

At this year's computer expo in Chicago, Illinois, Microsoft mogul Bill Gates gave a speech comparing the computer industry with the car industry and declared "If General Motors had kept up with technology like the computer industry has, we would all be driving twenty-five dollar cars that gave us 1000 miles to the gallon."

In response to these comments, General Motors issued a press release stating that "If GM had developed technology like Microsoft, we would all be driving cars that would, for no reason whatsoever, crash twice a day! Occasionally, your car would die on the freeway and refuse to restart, in which case you would have to reinstall the engine. Next, the airbag system would say 'Are you sure? before going off. Furthermore, Every time GM introduced a new model, car buyers would have to learn how to drive all over again because none of the controls would operate in the same way as on the old car. Finally, you'd press the 'Start' button to shut off the engine! So, who needs technology?'

Certainly not bands such as 'Les Pwe Blo', especially when you can use a selection of children's toys instead! Local newcomers Les Pwe Blo are the kind of treasure that you want to selfishly keep to yourself - they're just perfect for the cosy, intimate venue - like a best kept secret amongst clandestine friends. It's no surprise then, that this kind of band are so very much appreciated at a place like the Wunderbar. The bar's regulars, many of them musicians themselves, know a good band when they see one - and know a bad one too. Rarely though, have I seen so many beaming smiles on so many radiant faces as I did at Les Pwe Blo's eagerly anticipated return to the Wunderbar in August. 'It wasn't supposed to be this packed!' singer Gareth Paisey politely remarks as they take the stage. But his observations are simply proof that the word of their genius had spread since the last time they played.

When Les Pwe Blo played their first gig at the Wunderbar back in the Spring, they had me thinking about the past - particularly, about the 'twee-pop' bands of the late '80's and early 90's, rooted in fanzine culture (before the internet was around) and the home-grown bedsit record labels of post C-86 indie, spearheaded by bands like The Field Mice and White Town and labels such as 'K Records' and 'Spinart' in America and Bristol's very own 'Sarah Records'. Les Pwe Blo's stage debut left me in a very happy, retrospective frame of mind - acoustic guitars, musical poetry, social comment and a wonderful 'lo-fi' approach. On the band's recent return to the bar, the closer I listened, the more I could see that Les Pwe Blo actually point as much to the future as to the past. Indeed, lyric writer Gareth sites bands such as Mouldy Peaches, Architecture In Helsinki and Daniel Johnston among the names who he'd like his band to sound like. All of these are from a new generation of underground 'indie pop' that is very much as exciting as their 'twee-pop' forbearers were before them. Gareth's sharply observed social patter and darkly humorous lyrics are complemented by his sister Kim, who plays a variety of instruments including keyboard and recorder as well as some more unusual 'instruments' too - many of which are toys-come-percussion. Kim also plays for a school folk band. Completing the three-piece is Guillaume (affectionately known as 'Gui') on acoustic guitar.

Keeping things 'in the family', the trio are occasionally joined by younger sister Amy, adding a lone snare drum to the band's acoustic flavour with augmentative effect. Gareth strums a plastic toy guitar for their opening number, then holds a Grundig 'shoebox style' cassette recorder to the microphone for another song as it crackles out a taped football commentary at the beginning of 'Down With Petty Nationalism'. This is calculated naivety bordering on sheer genius. Further into the set, 'What This Company Needs' is a sneering lyrical revenge at a previous employer's grievance about Gareth's self-confessed 'MTV hair'. Meanwhile, another highlight from the band's songbook is, 'I'm so fickle', a satirical look at youth trends and one which anyone who appreciated The Smiths will readily fall in love with. Favourites? The list is endless.

With lo-fi bands, there is always a worry that the naive genius captured in their infancy can be lost when they become tighter with experience and decide to pursue a more polished approach. You can't help wondering whether those glitches and imperfections you love about 'home- ade' recordings are just things that the band themselves would rather see corrected, given the chance. Personally speaking, this is why I love every different 'take' of a Velvet Underground song. Each different run-though, each different rehearsal, with it's unique imperfections, is in itself, as interesting as the version ultimately committed to tape. Indeed, I take my hat off to bands like Josef K, who scrapped their 1980 debut album 'The Only Fun In Town' because it was too polished, ultimately releasing a more raw-edged effort in it's place. I'm sure though, that Les Pwe Blo will hang on to their simplistic, 'naive' edge. The band's 'work in progress' style demos capture an embryonic genius. "Hide In My Headphones, Sleep With My Phone On" is a spiralling self-assault, with desperate lyrics "I'm going to go now, listen to Elliot Smith, and cry" accompanied by a haunting, discordant violin scratching it's way alongside - an effect as spine-tinglingy gorgeous as John Cale's violin accompaniment on Lou Reed's classic "Heroin". As rough as they may be, the demo versions of Les Pwe Blo's songsmithery are just perfect, capturing the band's lo-fi genius in an undiluted way.

Anyone who is a regular visitor to this website's forum will already know that Les Pwe Blo have sparked off much debate among the local musical fraternity. Not many bands have been talked about as much as these guys, especially after what was only the second gig of their career so far! Les Pwe Blo are planning to make a return visit to the Wunderbar at Christmas with yet more songs and yet more instruments. Indeed, Kim has just acquired a full-sized Hohner accordion which will no doubt be making an appearance next time. What a great Christmas present to look forward to.

Now, as we reach the first Anniversary of John Peel's death, it's satisfying to know that various gigs and tributes have been organised around the country to mark what is termed as the first ever 'John Peel Day'. I'm sure many thousands of music lovers, like myself, would happily say that no-one has shaped their musical education over the years better than the late, great John Peel. Let's face it, we're probably all deeply indebted to him. Being a young teenager, I felt a sense of excitement at 10pm on weekday evenings, tuning in the 'tranny' under the bed sheets (if you'll forgive the expression) to 'Peely', listening to punk, dub reggae, new wave or whatever else he chose to promote. Back in the days when I was a young wannabe musician, I was even lucky enough to have one of my own records played on his show - something to which I feel truly honoured.

To be honest though, I don't understand why Elton John has chosen to muscle in on the 'John Peel Day' occasion! Even I'm too young to remember whether Peely liked the bloke or not, but let's face it, another appalling rendition of 'Candle In The Wind' isn't quite the teenage kicks I had in mind. Meanwhile, as good a cause as 'Make History Poverty' truly is, the whole idea of Elton John preaching to us about poverty, when he is the living epitome of wasteful extravagance, is somewhat embarrassing.

As for General Motors, their press release concluded that 'If Macintosh made cars, they would be powered by the sun, would be more reliable, five times as fast and twice as easy to drive. The only trouble is, they would only run on five percent of the roads!'

All in all, Chief Editor Guv'nor Black is a fair boss, but when I failed to show up on Monday morning to submit the latest hot scoops for the website's pop page, he was none too pleased! Leaving my dishevelled desk empty, those typewriter keys rusting, the editorial deadline breached, and (most worrying of all), the office coffee pot unbrewed, my name was shamefully, a proverbial shade of mud. Try explaining to your boss that after spending a crazy weekend in sleepy Timsbury, I waited at the bus stop to catch the 178 flyer to downtown Norton only to find that the service had been scrapped! Well, this predicament is exactly what has happened. Those shameful people at the bus company have axed the Timsbury leg of the 178 route in order to save a mere two minutes off the journey time from Bristol. Misers! Firstbus argue that the Council does not help sponsor the route. However, they forget that it was the impoverished Village Council who recently spent their pitiful allowance putting up bus shelters to serve the buses in the first place! Meanwhile, residents have been issued with a letter explaining that any queries should be made at Manvers St. Bus Station in Bath. The only trouble is my friends, how does one get there?!!

The thought of spending another Saturday night trapped in Timsbury, drinking at the Guss & Crook is all well and good, but watching a drunken karaoke rendition of 'Born Slippy' isn't quite the weekend live entertainment I had in mind. Thank goodness I made it back to the Metropolis in time to catch the long overdue return of Valdez at The Wunderbar.

Formed in March 2001 and taking their name from the Exxon Valdez oil disaster, Valdez are one of the area's hardest working bands. Every time they've appeared at the bar, they've progressively got better, and after a string of European dates, they came back to Midsomer Norton last year with a confidence that only har

dened gigging under your belts can give. However, trouble hit the band last year when personnel problems rendered singer/bassist Chris Valdez as the only member left in the band! Chris however, is a man of total conviction to his band and his music. It's this level of commitment that makes them so appealing. When he explained the line-up issues to me last year, he sounded surprisingly optimistic about a problem that would leave most bands in tatters. Well, after an absence of just over a year, those difficulties are now well in the past. Valdez returned to The Wunderbar earlier this month with a brand new line-up and an all new confidence. The new line-up, together since September, sees Chris joining forces with faces who have been in the business for years. Guitarist Matt is from 'The Spartans' and previously 'Four Letter Word' whilst other guitarist Jamer and drummer Matt both play in 'The Surfin' Turnips', arguably the best West Country themed band since The Wurzels! Their experience shows. The raw, relentless energy of the all-new Valdez is delivered with effortless charm. Thankfully, they've chosen to stick to an 'old school' style of British punk - heads-down, no-nonsense rock, mixing politics, cider and a smattering of humour for good measure.

Valdez don't waste time. They've already finished recording their forthcoming album 'Exception Becomes The Rule'. Expected to see release in October, this raucous ten track platter has accurately captured the energy and sound of the band's live set in a way that previous releases never really did. Highlights from the bands live repertoire such as 'Dying For Oil' and 'Street Warriors' are given the justice on record that these songs deserve. Also in the pipeline is the release of a split 7" single with New Jersey punk stalwarts 'Electric Frankenstein', planned for release in January on American label Antidote Records. As well as local gigs over the next few months, the band also plan to play shows in the US next summer. Just one thing guys - I don't know whether you do requests, but if you do, can I request you make another visit to The Wunderbar real soon!

Now, with the rise of fashionable art-school bands such as Interpol and Bloc Party, I guess it was only a matter of time until we saw a renewed interest in their post-punk forefathers too. One much welcomed resurgence is by way of 'The Glasgow School', a compilation of early Orange Juice tracks recorded for the seminal Postcard label in the early 1980's. These classic pop gems have frankly, never ceased being both highly cool and highly

collectable. This month though, saw them re-released as a neat 23 track compilation, giving these highly prized collectables a whole new lease of life. No longer resigned to the high price tags of record fares and ebay auctions, they are once again available for off-the-shelf consumption, this time by a whole new generation.

Orange Juice created some of the most 'daring' music of their time. They 'hopped genres', melding the scratchiness of the Velvet Underground with the style of northern soul and disco. OK, so the punk-goes-disco trend was already happening in New York with bands such as Blondie and Talking Heads,
but what made Orange Juice so 'daring' was that they had the sheer balls to 'camp things up' amidst a climate of post-punk machismo. As Elvis Presley was the first performer to bring sex appeal to rock 'n' roll, so Orange Juice were the first band to bring 'style' to post-punk, bringing with it, a twee, romantic longing and self-defacing wit. 'Sorry to moan, but it's what I do best' declared singer Edwyn Collins on the classic 'Lovesick'. Their short, sharp, soulful songs oozed with gorgeous melody, while scratchy guitars frantically struggled to play them. This ramshackle sloppiness made the band¹s attem

pted sophistication all the more charming. The sense of adventurism in these three minute pop gems is boundless. 'Wan Light' and 'In A Nutshell' are so rich with warm, smooth soul that they could've been written for Al Green. 'Breakfast Time' on the other hand, is so abrasive and spiky, it could¹ve been a Gang Of Four number.

By the time the band released their second album and huge hit single 'Rip It Up' in 1982, their sophisticated white-boy disco was just ripe for '80's mass appeal, yet still retained a sense of punk irony. Everyone from The Smiths to Franz Ferdinand is deeply indebted to them. Edwyn Collins, accomplished as a solo artist for many years now, has been seriously ill recently having suffered a cerebral haemorrhage in February. Thankfully he is recovering now. In the meantime, 'The Glasgow School' by Orange Juice, recently released by Domino Records, is a neatly packaged slice of history that still sounds as fresh today as it did over twenty years ago. Personally, I can't stop playing it.

As for the next twenty years, if the 178 bus shows up in Timsbury, I guess we'll be lucky!

Now as a rule, I try not to go into McDonalds. There are times however, when the inevitable call of nature over-rides even the stubbornest of principals, especially when you're dying to use the McToilet! In these times of ever-demanding consumer convenience, I was half expecting to see one of those ever-popular fast-food retail outlets at 'Glasto' this year. Just imagine it - those golden twin arches towering triumphantly over the Pilton skyline, complementing the silhouette of Glastonbury Tor in true architectural splendour. That majestic motif could even be critically juxtaposed so that at sunrise on the Summer Solstice, those mighty twin arches cast a long

shadow lining-up the ancient Tor and the Ciderbus, the mystic significance of each location thus being highlighted, one for it's Arthurian legends, the other for it's deep healing properties!

Maybe in June 2007, we¹ll see the timely launch of Mickey Dee's feastly 'McGlasto Whopper', a recipe that might be somewhere between Mississippi Mud Pie and one of 'Uncle' Ben's fudge cakes. Perhaps we'll even see Microsoft sponsoring the main stage at Ashton Court, or even Adidas endorsing the beer tent at Reading? Imagine ordering a pint of 'Three Stripe' instead of Red Stripe - or a round of three Red Stripes might then be three pints of Three Red Stripe? Arrrggghhhh!

Anyway, the first band to play at the Wunderbar after the usual Pilton 'half term' break were Forest

Giants. Now, before we go any further into reporting on this gig, let's take a brief trip back in time to about 15 years ago...
Forest Giants is the new band fronted by Tim Rippington who was an instrumental figure in the Bristol 'indie pop' scene of the late '80's and early '90's. This thriving period not only helped put Bristol on the musical map of coolness, but led to the city becoming the national hub of the entire 'Post C-86' indie generation thanks to regular club nights such as the 'EEC Punk Rock Mountain' and the legendary 'Tropic Club'. These showcase nights attracted fledgling acts from across the country such as My Bloody Valentine, Primal Scream, Pop Will Eat Itself and The Wedding Present, all of whom were just starting their careers at the time. Nationally, an entire network of bands, fanzines and bedroom-based record labels kept a completely self-sufficient music scene alive and well, a far cry from the major-label sponsorship of today's pseudo-indie guitar music. It was the local Bristol bands however, The Brilliant Corners, Chorcazade and Blue Aeroplanes to name just a few, who kept the city's vibrant pop-scene alive week-in week-out.
Tim Rippington

was involved in several of these local bands including The Five Year Plan and The Beatnik Filmstars. He also endured a spell in the (not so good) band The Flatmates, where he was ultimately involved in an on-stage brawl with loathsome bandmate and label boss Martin Whitehead, an event much publicised by the national music press at the time, and one which leaves Tim fondly remembered in the eyes of many. (Think of this incident as a prequel to the Jarvis Cocker vs. Michael Jackson brawl - just on a smaller scale!) Nice one Tim!

To add to the pedigree of Forest Giants, bassist Ruth Cochrane was a member of the Blue Aeroplanes, Keyboardist Paula Knight was previously in Girl Boy
Girl and drummer Tom Adams was previously in the excellent, but short-lived band Quinton who featured a young Steve Yabsley of Radio Bristol fame on guitar! So, with their feet firmly rooted in the family tree of Bristol's home-grown pop music history, how do Forest Giants stand up compared to a younger generation of bands breaking through?

Forest Giants play laid-back, minimalistic, fuzzy pop tunes based on driving two or three chord guitar arrangements topped with with a liberal smattering of squidgy keyboard, electronic drum pads and deadpan vocal delivery, all-important ingredients for an 'old school' lo-fi sensibility similar to Flying Saucer Attack, 14 Iced Bears or The Pastels. The band have a new, neatly packaged CD entitled 'UFO Stories', a six track platter of melancholic ethereal pop, opening with the rather excellent 'Beards', a song as good as anything put out by the new breed of 'pop' contemporaries such as
British Sea Power. Whilst Forest Giants' on-stage T.V. visuals and deadpan presentation may seem somewhat nostalgic for the members of the audience old enough to remember the halcyon days of Bristol being 'punk rock city', it was nevertheless truly refreshing to see some proper guitar-pop played by people who have not only been making good music for years, but who still know a good trick or two. Let's hope they make another visit to Midsomer Norton soon.

Speaking of nostalgia, I remember Susy, a girl at school conducting a music survey and asking everyone in our classroom to list their five favourite albums. I remember listing 'Grotesque' by The Fall

as one of my favourites. It was 1982. The Fall had only done a handful of albums. Susy, like me, was a fan of Joy Division and we were probably the only two kids in the whole school who proudly DIDN'T own a copy of Brothers In Arms! 'Post-Punk' was exciting, but it wasn't called post-punk back then - it was called 'New Wave'. It was pre-Orange Juice, pre-Smiths, and The Fall, still youngsters

themselves, were creating what would in time, become the definitive
blueprint of everything 'indie'.

Today, in 2005, and 23 years since that classroom survey, I picked up the brand new neatly packaged CD re-issue of The Fall's 'Grotesque', finally having the chance to replace that mouldy old C-90 cassette tape that had been steadily deteriorating over the years. I couldn't help wondering how that 'old favourite' of mine in the school survey would stand-up after all these years. I¹m very glad to say, it does! OK, so a lot of the politics is now well out of date - Mark E. Smith going on about Gary Bushell for example (Bushell wrote for the music press at that time, before slumming it with the tabloids) and the band's fractured portrait of a Britain in the volatile hands of the 'Thatcher Era' sounds desperately bleak and depressing, culminating in Smith shouting 'If we had any sense, we'd all EMIGRATE!'

It's common knowledge that many bands have made a tidy living out of emulating The Fall's playful shambolism, persistent awkwardness and sneering political patter. Indeed, Smith's view on Pavement's Steve Malkmus is "That C***'s driving round in a Mercedes while I struggle to even pay my boys!'' But Mark E. Smith, unlike so many, is a man who follows nobody's rules other than his own. It's The Fall's relentless defiance of expectation that has made them British music's most respected establishment, not to mention being Manchester¹s second longest running soap-saga (only Coronation Street has been going longer!). The Fall's importance to my mind, is rather like a garden cane that supports a sunflower - people pay more attention to the flower, but without the cane, it wouldn't ever have grown. Take a closer look at some of today's art-punk hopefuls, and it's easy to see that The Fall are still as influential today as they have always been. Mark E. Smith may have earned a reputation for being a grumpy old sod and rather difficult to work with at the best of times (note the on-stage 'punch-up' on a recent American tour resulting in the whole band, except for Smith, flying home) but he's earned the right to be as 'difficult' as he likes over the years. They were John Peel's favourite band. Enough said. Imagine the history of British music without The Fall? Think coffee without the caffiene - palatable, but pointless. If I had to do Susie's school survey again, would I still put 'Grotesque' by The Fall in my top five records? Well, there have been many hundreds of records added to my collection since then, not to mention many other Fall albums. But, if you make it a 'top ten' rather than a 'top five', it would probably still be there! By the way, I remember Whitesnake being one of the most popular band in the school survey, but then again, you must understand, this was SOMERVALE!

Speaking of school days, since the digital revolution finally arrived in North Somerset, it's not surprising that 'Friends Reunited' has become an ever-popular way for tracking down those long lost school pals, even the ones who voted for Whitesnake! Such technology however, does have it's flaws. Indeed, apparently, I now live in the leafy heartland of Middlesex - Hendon to be precise. What's more surprising is that apparently, my sporting dexterity was good enough to make it onto the local football team... Hendon FC, founded in 1906, and one of the Ryman League Premier Division's longest serving members, can boast seven visits to nearby Wembley. Under the twin towers (and not the McDonalds ones I might add), Hendon FC won the FA Amateur Cup three times in five finals. However, the club's fortunes turned sour duing the 2000/01 season. The team produced comfortably their worst performance of the season on December 16th 2000, suffering a heavy 4-1 defeat by Chesham United, including not just one, but two own-goals by defender Paul Towler!

Remind me not to stop at McDonalds in Hendon for a slash, no matter how desperate I am. I'm likely to get lynched!

The people of north-west Montana USA, have been advised to be on the lookout for drunken bears! Black bears and 'Grizzlies' have been congregating along the tracks of the Burlington Northern Railroad, where a train carrying hundreds of tons of corn recently derailed. The corn, which started to ferment, began producing an aroma which is attracting the bears. As Wildlife biologist Loren Hicks explained: 'The bears are actually intoxicated up here, and a grizzly with a hang-over can be as cross as a bear with a sore head.'

On an equally grizzly note, being as unfamiliar as I am with some of the all-new continental shopping systems, I was embarrassingly confused on my first visit to Midsomer Norton's brand new Argos super-store. There I was, expecting my eyes to light up with child-like excitement at shelves full
of shiny, glistening gadgets, the latest electronic wizardry and an abundance of ever-useful consumer 'must-haves', enticing me to promptly hand over the plastic fantastic from the bowels of my wallet. To my disappointment though, all I discovered was a huge, empty reception area, a selection of catalogue books, together with not one, but three different 'stages' of having to make a purchase. Now, if this system wasn't frustrating enough for buying those ever useful consumables, imagine how annoying things would be if the same system was applied to buying beer at The Wunderbar! Let's check the scenario here. First, you trawl through the product information listing on the blackboard, trying to find a reference number that relates to the specific brand of lager you're trying so hard to acquire. Next, you need to queue at the back bar where you are asked to submit the relevant paperwork which informs the bar-staff that code number WB842

somehow corresponds with the exact product you are requesting. Next up, you need to leave the back room and desperately push your way to the front bar where you are then required to queue up all over again, this time in a bid to finally pick up your pint. Thirsty work indeed! It seems those bears of Montana have a good head start on the weekend revelling if you ask me.

Now, over the past year and a half, the reclusive Midsomer Norton based Blueneck have been locked away in deepest Somerset, working on their debut album 'Scars Of The Midwest'. This magnificent musical opus is finally due for release on Don't Touch Records later this month.

Let's get something straight here from the start - this is no 'ordinary' local offering. This is a modern day masterpiece, crafted right here, on our very own doorstep. Blueneck aren't your average local band doing the rounds on the well-trodden live circuit, simply committing a token 'xerox copy' of
their set-list to tape. Instead, the band have recently, almost abandoned playing gigs altogether, in favour of a studio environment where their music can be organically nurtured and allowed to 'evolve' at it's own pace, free from the trappings of the 'gotta-please-an-audience' mundanety of the local gig circuit. Vocalist Duncan Attwood says the band are now in a place they feel comfortable in with their music. Oddly enough, Blueneck played live more frequently in their earlier days. But, as their music evolved away from conventional song writing, the intricate technicalities of faithfully reproducing their music on-stage has meant it's too impractical to simply 'plug-in-and-play' at the drop of a hat. Instead, a rare Blueneck show is now a true 'event' of great magnitude, rather like a solar eclipse, only
darker. Much darker.

Locked away, deep on the Mendips, Blueneck have enjoyed the guidance of Corin Dingley at the controls, a musical visionary who leaves his 'stamp of genius' on everything he touches. He is one of the craftsmen behind the group 'Alpha', whose debut album, a cinematic wash of Bacharach samples,
trippy rhythms and heart-warming orchestration ranks in my personal top five albums of all time. Enough said. Corin Dingley's magic influence on Blueneck's stunning debut is in itself, well defined. Largely instrumental, Blueneck have dropped conventional song-structure in favour of a soaring
soundscape of pure dynamics. Opening with a single piercing piano resonating through a sparse, skeletal landscape, vast echoing chasms of ambient near-silence build and build, soon to be crushed by an avalanche of heavy, swirling crescendos. From the Eno-esque minimalism of 'UB1' to the pounding, thunderous drones of 'Judas! Judas!', most of the album is a dark, desperate journey of epic proportions. 'amoc' in sharp contrast, is uplifting, Ben Green's soaring guitars orchestrating a warm, numb tranquillity while nimble notes from a Rhodes keyboard gently pitter-patter down on earthy bedrock, giving an otherwise menacing album a moment of clarity. Bringing this opus to a close is the ebb and flow of 'Yesterday¹s Forgotten', a re-working of an early Blueneck song, now stripped-down and re-modelled to the point of being barely recognisable, the extent of change here showing just how much work the band can put into the studio rendering of a single track.

If you're familiar with Canada's undercurrent of ambient-stoner-rock bands from the roster of Constellation Records, then you¹ll find 'Scars of The Midwest' a worthy addition to your album collection. Blueneck's influences are clear, Mogwai to Sigur Ros, Godspeed to Brian Eno, but with all that time spent up in The Mendip Hills, left alone to grow and evolve, Blueneck have cultivated a hypnotic cinematic soundscape which is truly their own. It shouldn't be long before the world at large discovers deepest Somerset's hidden treasure. Just one word of advice guys, next time you're tucked up in those hills for a year and a half, bolt the windows, hide the Blackthorn and look out for those bears!

13 6 5
Veteran entertainer and familiar face at The Wunderbar Jeremy Hunt is tonight reported to be in a 'stable condition' after suffering severe trauma. His misfortune follows an incident at Mallards public house, Midsomer Norton involving an argument over money where the victim was allegedly short- hanged after purchasing a pint of beer. 39 year old Mr.Hunt, once popular among music lovers for his bird whistling, stage gymnastics and comic songsmithery also enjoyed a spell of notoriety throughout the early 1990's for his much-publicised off-stage troubles, most notably his playboy lifestyle and excessive partying.
This latest incident is thought to have happened during the late hours of Friday 3rd June and has left the troubled former entertainer suffering from severe depression. An eye-witness at the scene, Mr. Christopher Bennett told reporters "we were gobsmacked by the gobby gashead's gobbledegook". Tonight, wunderbar.co.uk can exclusively reveal that the former singer has withdrawn legal action in favour of an out of court settlement, reported to be a "considerable" sum. Meanwhile, Mr. Hunt's injuries have resulted in a notable absence from his regular Wunderbar haunt, ending an unbroken Saturday attendance record lasting over 21 years.
Now, as Pilton weekend fast approaches (or am I meant to refer to it as 'Glasto' these days) let's not forget the late Arthur Wellsley, for whose work the discerning festival reveller should be ever grateful. After the American Civil War, 'cowboys' wore whatever they could afford, or whatever they possessed following the war. One example was the 'Wellington', a boot of British origin dating from 1810 and popularized by Arthur Wellsley, the first Duke of Wellington, following his defeat of Napoleon at Waterloo. From the 1850's, the 'Wellington' was issued to American military officers. However, military boot orders were often filled by unscrupulous contractors, and troops stationed on the Frontier often found their boots fell apart quickly, especially in severe climate and terrain. Fortunately, the design has been improved over the years, leaving the ever demanding festival goer with warm toes whatever the weather has to offer.

Despite bad weather being a constant threat to Pilton's festival faithful, most notably the notorious 'trenchfoot years' of 1997-98, it's reassuring to know that Pilton is in fact far dryer now that it used to be. Situated on the edge of the Somerset Levels, this area, although now drained, was once a shallow tidal lake. In Saxon times the village of Pilton, then known as 'Pooltown', was actually a harbour, and according to legend it is where Joseph of Arimathea landed in Britain in the 1st Century. Now here we are, twenty centuries later, anticipating the arrival of high-profile rock celebrities (oh, and Chas & Dave too), this time not by boat, but I dare say by air-conditioned tour bus. Well, let's just hope that a boat isn't an option that needs to be considered!
Now, anyone who has spent time at the Wunderbar will be familiar with the fantastic More Specials, featuring not only the Guv'nor himself, but also, another one of Midsomer Norton¹s most talented musical maestros, Johnny Rench. Away from his role as frontman for More Specials, Johnny's been involved with an up-and-coming Swindon based reggae label called 'Pop-A-Top'Records, establishing himself as a producer for the label. This month sees the release of Johnny's own CD entitled 'Man Cool Rides Again' which features some of his own songs as well as 'versions' (or re-workings) of other Pop-A-Top classics. The seven track mini-album boasts a healthy collective of on-board musicians including some mad 'toasting' by the Wunderbar's very own Tom 'The Captain'Harwood. A full write-up of Johnny's album will be featured on this website's all new 'reviews' page. Johnny Rench first appeared on the Midsomer Norton scene as drummer for short-lived cheeky popsters The Casswells, soon turning his talents to DJing. He's now part of the 'Shocks Of Mighty' Reggae Sound System. His first album not only adds another notch to his proverbial belt of talent, but adds another great release to the ever-growing Pop-A-Top Records catalogue of cool.
Pop-A-Top¹s brilliant debut, released in 2004, was an album by 'The Erin Bardwell Collective'. Erin has been in ska bands since 1993, including seminal group 'The Skanxters'. He was also the brainchild behind founding the 'More Specials' despite having now left the group. Erin's new band focuses on authentic 'rocksteady' style reggae with an early 70's feel. Meanwhile, hot on the heels of Johnny's 'Man Cool Rides Again', Pop-A-Top Records are also about to release an album by Recoldo Fleming. Originally from Anguilla, Recoldo toured the Caribbean throughout the 1980's with several reggae bands. He later emigrated to the UK where he joined forces with Erin Bardwell in The Skanxters. 'Recoldo Fleming's Kingston Experience', his brand new album, has been recorded in Jamaica and is due for release on Pop-A-Top in the next few weeks. In the meantime, why not grab a copy of 'Man Cool Rides Again' while you can. Copies are available from The Wunderbar.
As for Pilton, I'm sure many will agree it¹s very fitting that the festival organisers have re-named the 'Other' stage the 'John Peel Stage'. Respect where respect is due. Maybe next year, the Festival organisers would consider a long overdue appearance by Motown Genius Stevie Wonder. How about it? Well, if that's not possible, then The House Of Lords will do nicely. In the meantime, once the europhoria of the 'Glasto' Experience has passed, there's no need for Norton's pop-picking pleasure- eekers to be saddened. We've still got the Mardi Gras to look forward to!
Next time, I should at last, be reporting on debut album release by local reclusive rockers Blueneck. Hopes of the band finishing the project were hampered last month when bass player and football enthusiast Ben Paget ran out into the path of an oncoming cyclist whilst celebrating his favourite football team Liverpool FC winning of the European Champions League. Mr. Paget was unavailable for comment at the time of publication, but it is rumoured that his Bruce Grobbelaar impression is coming along nicely.

Everyone here at the wunderbar.co.uk office would like to wish both Ben Paget and Jeremy Hunt a speedy recovery from their injuries.

So there it was, a giant phallus, proudly emblazoned on the side of Old Mills Batch, it's gargantuous girth gashing through our otherwise idyllic countryside. Those towering testicles lasted through all winds and weather over the past few weeks, and I dare say thanks to the strength and durability of Dulux Weathershield. The mystic influence of the Batch on local townsfolk remains undeterred. Like some latter-day Pompeii, we seem to dwell unwittingly beneath this sleeping monster, about to erupt at any time, unleashing it's fiery anger to engulf us all, destroying everything in it's path (but hey, that's enough about Michael Howard). Since the arrival of this giant genetalia, the unsuspecting motorist making their way along the B3355 on their weekly trawl to Planet Tesco, has no doubt been resigned to total bewilderment! After all, Westbury's ancient hillside figure created in 878AD, is beleived to commemorate the battle of Ethandun in which King Alfred fought off Viking invaders. The historical significance of Midsomer Norton's recently unearthed fertility symbol is however, somewhat less clear.

Now, speaking of molten rock spewing frenziedly from a mouth of fury, May 28th saw the long-awaited return of Left Side Brain, perhaps the most talked about band at The Wunderbar in recent years. Now, in a justified world, these guys would already be enjoying the spoils of world domination, snippets of their riff-laden wall of noise would already be etched into a brass plate on the Voyager satellite, proudly representing the great acheivements of humankind as it hurtles its way over the cosmos. I like to think such justice will be done. So, what is it about Left Side Brain that makes them so awe-inspiringly amenable to so many? Maybe it's the fact that they aren't trying to be part of any particular scene or current short-lived trend. Left Side Brain have name-checked bands such as Therapy and The Wildhearts on their inspiration list. Their own music however, champions a whole new breed of British Rock. Many bands grow to master the riff-driven power-chord formula quite readily, but Left Side Brain deliver an extra sting to their punch - delicately woven melodies and triple-barrelled vocal harmonies, skimming nimbly over their overdriven riffs-to-die-for. Like the mighty King Kong, capable of crushing his fragile woman with the slightest wisp of his giant finger, the Brainer's delicately balance precision-tight, multi- layered harmonies over the toughest granite foundations - equals and opposites indeed. Furthermore, the band¹s lyrical content is hardly the territory of the well-thumbed rock rulebook. Instead, Gareth and Rich take it in turns to sing about the anxieties of everyday life, our fears, our weaknesses, our inner-turmoils, pouring out their hearts to us in a way that every single one of us can identify with.

Initially formed in Swansea, the band soon moved to Bristol where they earnt the highest respect in the good old fashioned way - solid, hard work. They've already played some of the darkest corners of the country, recorded their debut album in Northern Ireland and released it to undisputed critical acclaim as well as becoming regulars on the playlists of Kerrang and Scuzz TV.

Tonight's set, opening with "Silo Mentality", charged through much of the highly revered "Equals and Opposites" album, the high point for me being the ball-busting "Low Tide", arguably the grittiest guitar riff not to have been crafted on Jimmy Page's Gold Top Les Paul. With the band due to start recording their second album in October, tonight we were treated to the first slice of their new material. Given the working title "Exit Wound", this hi-velocity screamer delivered more octane than a John Woo action thriller, the band steering heavily towards a less-commercial, no-compromise approach.

Despite a few technical difficulties on the night, "String-breaker" Gareth going through guitars quicker than a Steven Gerrard score sheet, and the chance of any encores being scuppered by a broken bass-drum pedal, the Left-Side Faithful were nonetheless truly fulfilled having once again lifted their goblets of rock within the sweat-soaked walls of The Wunderbar. Let¹s hope world domination is indeed, just round the corner for Bristol's most invigorating band.
Now, in a month that sees the arrival of new offerings by major-players Oasis and Coldplay, I must admit to being as excited about these impending releases as anyone living South of the border enjoys Scottish football! No doubt these corporate giants will earn a good living just on the impulsive 'bung-in-the-basket' whims of the weekly Planet Tesco shopping run. Personally though, I'd rather say a big 'THANKYOU' to those very nice people at Matador Records who have just re-issued the elusive singles back-catalogue by those lesser known players Yo La Tengo.

Imagine if Teenage Fanclub had recorded 'Slanted and Enchanted'. This would be somewhere close to describing the sound of Lo Ya Tengo. Taking simplistic, often two-chord arrangements, delivered with the warm-fuzzy drone often associated with early My Bloody Valentine, together with the playful shambolism of Pavement, the New Jersey based trio were among the early innovators of the 'lo-fi' pop genre. Listening to these songs now, some of which were committed to tape as early as 1985, it's easy to see where the new generation of 'twee' indie bands such as British Sea Power draw their influence. Lo Ya Tengo's neatly packaged, well-documented triple CD set entitled "Prisoners Of Love" comes at a fair price to boot! I dare say Tesco won't be stocking this little treasure, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all.

Well, next time I'll be reporting on perhaps the most hotly anticipated local release of the year - the long awaited first album by reclusive sonic-stoners Blueneck. Now in the mastering stages, "Scars Of The Midwest" is due for release on Don't Touch Records next month. In the meantime, I can't help wondering what has happened to that phallic artefact on Old Mill¹s Batch? Maybe it's been carefully dismantled by some keen-eyed entrepreneur, shipped up to London for reconstruction at the Tate Modern and nominated for the next Turner Prize. Personally, I think it's in with a chance! I only hope the Left Side Brain guys stuck to good advice not to attend any of Jer Hunt's notorious after-gig parties! They'd soon have discovered that a giant painted penis isn't the only erotic etching to be unearthed in Midsomer Norton.

12 / 5 / 05
What a cosmopolitan hotbed Midsomer Norton has become of late. I mean, having to pay to use the toilet was something I always considered to be a trait of the Continent until the arrival of our very own super-loo. Now, I don't know if I'm alone on this one, but personally, I'm bloody paranoid about the thing. There you are, dying for a slash and you haven't got the appropriate ten pence coin to hand. So, an otherwise simple trip to the John firstly requires a desperate cross-legged queue at the Post office to obtain suitable coinage. Even once you're inside the bloody thing, you might have only gone in for a quick slash, but you end up wanting a crap as well once that heavy-duty iron cast door locks you inside. No bloody wonder no-one uses the thing!
This brings me to the matter at hand - a personal pick from the latest itinerary of amplified music at the Wunderbar. Boy, I had been waiting to see "The Green Guns" with baited anticipation, largely due to being involuntarily sober at their last two gigs in the Porterbutt. After all, rock 'n' roll 'n' beer has to be better than rock 'n' roll 'n' soft drink, hasn't it? Well, to my mind, Bath-based hopefuls The Green Guns offer so much more than your average heads-down punk-by-numbers formula that's trawling the current live music circuit of late. Instead, their twisted, skull-bashing sonic assault draws from a complex pastiche of influences - gothic-tinged rock 'n' roll, skeletal garage punk, brooding dirty blues riffs that even Jack White would die for, and a shambolic, yet calculated rockabilly edge to boot! What's more, all this is delivered by a mere three-piece! Personally, I always have full admiration for any threesome (no double entendre intended). After all, there's no backing away from the fact that any threesome needs to work so very hard to pull it off (oh shit, there's that non-intended double entendre again). And if all this debasive mayhem wasn't enough, they posess a formidable on-stage persona too, connecting with the audience with self-defacing wit and even introducing fellow bandmates in true 'cabaret' style with tongue stapled firmly in cheek! My only criticism, as if they deserve any, is that they keep playing support to Rusty Springfield. Even though this always makes for a truly poptastic double-bill, it does mean that Paul Martin never gets to see them!

On the recording front, this month saw the release of a brand new album by seminal pioneers of indie-pop, The Go-Betweens. Now, one thing for sure is that you won't read a bad review of their new album "Oceans Apart" anywhere! Over the years, The Go-Betweens have earned themselves a truly monumental position within the pop-music hierarchy. Their place in the rock 'n' roll history book may be somewhat understated, but without them, the evolutionary path towards today's crop of indie-guitar hopefuls would be significantly altered. Very few bands ever get to transcend the superficial "drag and drop" nature of today's typical music journalism. The Go-Betweens however, are undoubtedly the true 'Nelson Mandela' of pop - troublesome youths turned elder statesmen!

Formed in Brisbane, Australia way back in 1978, The Go-Betweens soon moved to London where they became a key addition to the seminal Scottish indie label "Postcard Records" roster. This ground-breaking label, hailing itself as "the sound of young Scotland" virtually pioneered the entire "indie" genre that was to follow, and in doing so, gave rise to other flagship post-punk "pop" innovators such as Orange Juice and Aztec Camera.

Drawing on the lyrical depth of Bob Dylan coupled with the nihilistic darkness of The Velvet Underground, The Go-Betweens' guitar-pop dexterity became the definitive blueprint for an entire decade of "indie-pop" disciples. The band later went on to release six albums throughout the 80's as well as some of the best pop singles never heard, notably the bittersweet "Streets Of Your Town", a minor hit in 1988. Re-formed in 2000, and certainly not your average money-spinning late career boost, the literary songwriting talents of Robert Forster and Grant McClennan (widely regarded as the Lennon-McCartney of the indie-underworld) effortlessly jangle into our hearts again, and this time, for a new generation too.

Having made several weary trips to London on my own to see their intimate live shows over the years, I can definitely say The Go-Betweens are technically, the most "basic" band I have ever seen play - no pedals, no effects, no gimmicks, just the bare minimum of gear, two clean guitars purring gently through Fender Twin Reverbs, a simple back-line and big woeful hearts worn firmly on their sleeves. In our present climate of tiresome pseudo-punk wannabes in today's chart racks, the return of The Go-Betweens makes such a refreshing change. As for Postcard Records in general, a good look at their back-catalogue reminds us all that maybe Franz Ferdinand aren't so original after all.

Next time, I'll hopefully be reporting on what is possibly the most eagerly anticipated gig of the year so far at The Wunderbar - the long awaited return of Left Side Brain (or should this be on Wilb's Rock Page? Or even with Stew's Fondue's for that matter?) Oh well, as long as I'm there for the show and not trapped inside the bowels of that iron-hulled public toilet waiting for an arc-welder to come and rescue me, I don't care! Anyone got 10p?