Saturday, May 4, 2019

Dave McCullough speaks! (RIP) (A Dave McCullough Archive)






































































https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/bobcast/episodes/2015-02-12T21_46_53-08_00






From 1983, Sounds legend Dave McCullough appears on something called Greenwich Sound Radio, as the guest on a regular item called 'Creatures What You Never Knew About" (someone talking and playing records from their collection - worth digging through the archive as there's people like Robert Wyatt and Green Gartside guesting on other episodes.

McCullough sounds exactly how I'd imagined - sparky, lippy, opinionated, very decided in his opinions.

 A lot of what he says is total bullshit...  even contradicting himself within minutes  - but he says it in such a beguiling spiky yet silver-tongued way that I'm utterly charmed.

Biggest contradiction is the narrow view of rock history he outlines (Elvis>>>.Stones>>>Pistols/Jam/Clash/Buzzcocks>>>Fall>>>Smiths..._ versus the much wider and more interesting sense of music that is evident from what McCullough actually plays on this show. Half of the selections are people like Peter Hammill, Hall & Oates (who get two tracks!), Dory Previn, and Tim Buckley (and Sefronia-Buckley too - sickly ornate horror!) and most of the rest is well-wimpy early offerings from Hurrah!, Microdisney, the Pastels plus a Devotosolo ("Cold Imagination" off Jerky Versions of The Dream).  Jackson Browne gets a namecheck as well. 

Only tracks by The Fall and the Jam fits the historical narrative McCullough supposedly adheres to and upholds with every fiber of his writing being.



our Dave walking with The Clash (looks like Leicester Square)

I could only afford one music paper, so always used to buy NME, but I did spend a lot of time standing up in W.H. Smiths speed-reading the other papers. 

And with Sounds mostly I was looking for Dave McC’s stuff.

He had a great idiosyncratic style - very much Sounds's own equivalent to Morley - funny, playful, quick-minded... and he had unusual quirky taste. Sometimes he would take against things that logically you'd think he ought to be into, judging by his past preferences profile. Or he would take violently against things that he'd once fervently been into.

It’s funny how things stick in your head.

I can remember him reviewing The Fall post-Hex and saying how they'd gotten stuck in a dour rut and should do something unexpected like work with an orchestra.



"How I Created Modern Music - by D. McCulloch (a weekly serial)" - M.E.S. takes a playful swipe at our Dave, former Fall champion turned scourge, via NME"s Portrait of The Artist As A Consumer column. And isn't McCulloch referenced in an actual Fall lyric? Or am I imagining that?




























And what do you know? Another appearance of Sounds journalist Dave McCullough in the NME's Portrait of An Artist As A Consumer column!!! This time The Birthday Party, whose Nicholas Cave places our Dave on his Deathlist! Wonder what he did to piss Cave and crew off?

Looky here, he annoyed Siouxsie and the Banshees sufficiently (why? he slagged off a Lydia Lunch concert?) that  Sioux and Severin challenged him to be interviewed BY THEM. Although reading it, I'm not 100 percent D McC didn't write this up himself, including all the insulting bits about him









































Dave McC seemed to loathe The Cure and their audience, for reasons I can’t remember.  Thought they were middle-class sheep, I think. But then again I found a review somewhere that was gushing about  the first Cure album. And a review that's fairly positive about Pornography. He seemed to flip around a lot in his views! 

I remember he was a big fan of an obscure Scottish postpunk group called The Visitors.

Very early - the first, in fact? - to write about The Smiths and all the Scottish Postcard stuff, obviously.

And Joy Division. 



It’s a shame he disappeared. There was a brief stint working at Blanco Y Negro, alongside Geoff Travis and Mike Alway. I'm told he also did some reviews for City Limits. And then....  silence.

I wonder what propelled his withdrawal. I read somewhere he went back to Northern Ireland and became a teacher. If so, probably an English teacher judging by the many literary references in his writings (he compared Kajagoogoo's "Ooh To Be Ah" to Joyce!) and his emphasis on lyrics in the radio show above.

In the audio interview, Dave McCullough talks about being more interested in motor cars and pedigree dogs than music! So perhaps that was the onset of a great disillusionment. Although he doesn't sound disillusioned - he sounds full of fire and spirit. 

If anyone knows... let me know.

























Dave McCullough namechecked in this Saint Etienne song about a lifetime of music obsessiveness, "Over The Border" (from Words and Music)



^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

For the full story about that McCullough interview at Greenwich Sound Radio, check this blogpost I did around interviewer / radio host / tapezine man Bob Pearce

And here also is a tribute to/reminiscence of McCullough that John Carney aka Kevin Pearce did for Tangents back in the day.


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^



Below you will find an enormous - and steadily growing - disorderly archive of McCullough pieces from Sounds... starting with this hilarious slag-off of bitter rivals NME's C81 cassette with Rough Trade - despite the fact that it is crammed full of the exact music that he himself has been championing at Sounds. (Clearly Geoff Travis held no grudges when it came to McC working at Blanco Y Negro)





postscript July 2021: news has reached me this year, from two separate sources, that Dave McCullough died in 2013, aged 55.  No word yet on the circumstances (or what he had been doing in the years since dropping out of the music journalism game). 55 - that's way too early. How sad. RIP. 

































































































































I am continually adding to this repository of DMcC clips, many of them sourced from Soundsclips the twitter archive,,,,, from Matthew Worley.... from Zounds Abound (another Twitter archive) ... and other random sources. 




































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































June 4, 1983 issue of Sounds.
DAVE McCULLOUGH is smitten by The Smiths
DESPERATELY scrambling for something "new," the music business and the music press don't (as is normal) realise that something new IS happening. It might appear quiet, low lying, polite and very obscure, but it isn't.
First there was punk (!), then post punk, the funny name groups like Echo and Teardrop, groups who used traits of psychedelia nicely. And who only now, three years too late, are being (successively) ripped off by Tears For Fears et cetera. The funny names keep coming and they are useless and way out of time.
This year already you've had a new crop of groups, The Wake, The Smiths, The Box and a recharged Go Betweens, who present a new urbanity, a new sensibleness amid the attempts to shock and the attempts to block (the future).
Music BEYOND punk rock.
Smiths say: "Don't mention punk in this piece. We feel that is far behind everything we're about. It's ancient history..."
This polite, sensible and unflash approach shouldn't hide these groups' true allegiance to '76 and all that, nor, especially in Smiths' case, the very IMPOLITE state of their art.
Smiths are no ordinary name in a paper.
SMITHS look tremendous, they have the cool. Guitarist Johnny Marr plays a red Rickenbacker type machine gun in best early Jam fashion. He looks a HANDSOME Costello but denies the resemblance strongly.
Singer Morrisey (sic) has a history stretching back to '77 punk and writing for fanzines. He is reputed to be the "last great Devoto figure out of Manchester". He has the cool down to a tee, flinging flowers about on stage and writing lyrics which deal with sex as you've never heard apparent "confessors" like the mixed-up Marc Almond write about it.
The subject of child molesting crops up more than a few times in Smiths songs. They are hilarious lyrics, more so because they will suddenly touch on the personal.
Smiths have a grand "Freebird"-like (!!) finale to their live set. This and the Costello and child molestation claims they will reject out of hand, this is all part of the Smiths plan. Gonna be huge.
Smiths are signed to Rough Trade, a nice angle this, not only because those Smiths' lyrics must therefore be brought into question vis a vis Will Geoff Travis APPROVE? but because it raises the question, will Rough Trade be able to make this exceptional new group the stars they can very likely be?
Morrisey is a wonderfully arrogant pig ("I crack the whip and you'll strip (sic), but you deserve it, you deserve it"). Quite simply, funnily, they KNOW the talent that the Smiths possess.
How good are you?
Morrisey: "I tremble at the power we have, that's how I feel about the Smiths. It's there and it's going to happen."
Are Rough Trade the best label for immediate stardom?
Morrisey, enigmatic smile on handsome face: "What we want to achieve CAN be achieved on Rough Trade. Obviously we wouldn't say no to Warners, but RT can do it too."
I know Factory wanted you. Wouldn't they have been cooler?
Johnny: "We'd be stuck in the 'Manchester scene' then. What we're thinking of isn't even in terms of national success. It's more like world wide..."
Morrisey: "Factory aren't really interested in new groups. Factory have been good, but they now belong to a time that is past. Look, we had a great social life, Factory has been great, but let's leave all that behind us now."
"Look, the quote that best sums up the Smiths is from Jack Nichells' book Men's Liberation: 'We are here and it is now'. I feel really strongly about NOW. I don't want to wait around, I don't care about two years time, things have got to happen RIGHT NOW for the Smiths. And I think they will."
LET'S sort this sexual thing out.
I get a traditionalism from Smiths that is almost HM (that Skynyrd finale). It's certainly an aggressive sexual stance they've got. Morrisey goes Oscar Wilde:
"I'm in fact very anti-aggression. Obviously I'm interested in sex and every song is about sex. I'm very interested in GENDER. I feel I'm a kind of prophet for the fourth sex."
"The third sex, even that has been done and it's failed. All that Marc Almond bit is pathetic. It sounds trite in print but it's something close to 'men's liberation' that I desire."
The fourth sex! Excuse me, but I'm still in a metaphysical state about it. It will come. With every Smiths appearance it comes closer. Off stage, in bed, in bed alone. It's coming...
"I just want something different. I want to make it easier for people. I'm bored with men and I'm bored with women. All this sexual segregation that goes on, even in rock 'n' roll, I really despise it..."
Smiths share with this year's best new groups an anti-boredom stance, an aura of breaking through to completely new territory. A sexual neutralism that rejects the Bowie/macho/wimp norms. It is hard to identify because it is so radically different.
Everything I call the Smiths is wrong because I still place them in an old context: hard when they are soft, immoral when they are moral:"... We do not condone child molesting. We have never molested a child."
Traditionalist macho, when they...
Morrisey: "... I just so happen to be completely influenced by feminist writers like Molly Haskell, Marjory Rose and Susan Brown-Miller. An endless list of them!"
"I don't want to GO ON about feminism but it is an ideal state. It will never be realised beyond that because this society detests strong women. You just have to look at the Greenham women. This is a society that only likes women who faint and fawn and want only to get married. I'm not neurotic about it, but it is an integral part of the way I write."
Why the importance in carrying flowers?
Morrisey: "They're symbolic for at least three reasons. We introduced them as an antidote to the Hacienda when we played there; it was so sterile and inhuman. We wanted some harmony with Nature. Also, to show some kind of optimism in Manchester which the flowers represent. Manchester is so semi-paralysed still, the paralysis just zips through the whole of Factory..."
Your finale tells that "(Love Is Just A) Miserable Lie". Do you believe it, that people are totally separate, even from an ultimate state of love?
"Yes. Unfortunately. But there's an optimism in admitting it... Explain? Oh I could tell you of years of celibacy when I just couldn't cope with physical commitment because it always failed. I suppose I'm unnatural in the general scheme of things, because I have these feelings."
Morrisey is a self-publicising weirdo, in other words a lover.
"I want a new movement of celibacy. I want people to abstain... explain? Howard Devoto I know quite well and I know he formed a group in order to make friends (he'd never had any). I can only say I'm the same, and gather from that what ye will."
JOHNNY mentions the Ramones in passing. There is a Ramonish tint in Smiths that is only the beginning of what they are about. A nihilism, the molesting scam that soon leads into a fierceness and a morality-despite-it-all that is more Fall-like.
Morrisey: "These are desperate times. But I don't think we should join in with the desperation. We should conquer it. I'm fed up with this depressive attitude people have."
What about your humour?
"There are many really desperate characters from literature who had amazing senses of humour. Stevie Smith wanted to kill herself at nine. That's wonderful. I can relate to that. Sylvia Plath, just before she killed herself, had this incredible sense of humour in Letters Home..."
Is having or not-having a job important in Morriseyland?
"Not in the least. Jobs reduce people. One of our lines goes 'I've never had a job because I don't want one' : jobs reduce people to absolute stupidity, they forget to think about themselves. There's something so positive about unemployment. It's like, Now We Can Think About Ourselves. You won't get trapped into materialism, you won't buy things you don't really want..."
Smiths are an anti-stance group in the grand Fall tradition. An Alka Seltzer to a binge of Heaven 17s.
Morrisey: "We're fed up with people who won't talk about the press, all this New Order crap. They probably REALLY haven't GOT anything to say. I believe that's the truth..."
Johnny: "We're unique because we really rate the press. Putting out papers every week when there is so obviously very little good music around except the Smiths must be really hard..."
Morrisey: "The British music press is an art form."
Garry Bushell?
"There is always an exception to a rule, Dave."
Is it crucial being H.A.N.D.S.O.M.E. in Smithland?
Morrisey: "Absolutely."
Johnny: "We find it just finishes off the package nicely. It just so happens we're handsome. We didn't rope in good-looking chaps on bass and drums, it just happened that way..."
Doesn't this rule out 95% of the world from Smithland?
Morrisey: "Probably. But we genuinely want a handsome audience above everything else. I can predict that in six months time they'll be bringing flowers to our gigs..."
But what happens if you're ugly as sin?
Morrissey, waving a vague finger about: "Oh I'm sure they can arrange it somehow. They can, ah, learn to LOOK handsome. With great training of course!"
Of course. Expect a plastic surgery boom in '83.



































































































































 





































































Dave mccullough The Clash and the Slits live, Sounds, 6 January, 1979

A love that burns


The Clash/
The Slits
Music Machine

White, red, yellow, black. The Clash straddled the Music Machine stage like they meant it.
A white shirted Jones, a red shirted Strummer, a yellow clad Headon and a black shirted Simenon. The place was packed fairly solid and the atmosphere was good and friendly, which is pretty unusual for the Mornington Crescent Cool Club.

The Slits had just trudged off stage. I only saw two numbers, both impressive in a loose and spontaneous way, the new(ish) drummer Budgie providing the guts and gruel playing that was perhaps missing in the past. Their version of ‘Femme Fatale’ was particularly memorable. Ari Up doing the dizzy dervish but ruining her performance slightly, I thought, by playing the sex cat at times. They’ll be up among the leaders in ’79.

The Clashers were obviously out to improve on their rather lacklustre and clinical performance at Harlesden the last time they played London. White, red, yellow, black, the three frontmen still shaking with the threat they felt in, uh, the past. Really, there’s very little to say about The Clash when they’re on this sort of level of live excellence.

‘Safe European Home’ exploded the set to action; the sound crisp and fresh, if slightly unco-ordinated, with Jones’ lead receiving particularly unsympathetic treatment in the mix. ‘I Fought The Law’ again featured a magnificent band performance in terms of their sheer determination to overcome or, at the very least, to compensate for the shortcomings of the sound. But it was the presence of these technical errors early on in the set that enhanced and emphasised the band’s gradual acclimatisation to the conditions they faced.

The turning point came about mid-way through the set with the rousing ‘Tommy Gun’, Strummer spitting out the words like an angry sergeant-major, the left leg pumping up and down like an angry piston. It’s The Clash’s standard approach to the rock and roll live chore these days that is the predominant aspect of their stage performances; they feel and generate rock and roll energy in the same way that the Stones did (I assume: they were before my time) and in that sense the band has moved out of the New Wave theory of the shock, anti-establishment steam. What we have now is steam replaced by an attitude of total attack. The jet-fighters are still sitting ominously on the runway. Only now they take with more assurety and less uneasy resolution.

It’s a wonderful progression and it’s conveyed most vividly in the moving ‘Stay Free’, where the band veritably shine and sparkle with the experience and maturity they’ve accumulated. And then they can burst in into the stinging stock-Clash stamped ‘Guns On The Roof'(it burns live, whereas it doesn’t quite come off on record) and the hilarious “hi man!” relief of “Judy”. And so, a stunning gig. A gig with real atmosphere (a rarity these days). A gig where I pogoed for the first time since joining Sounds.
























 Bobby Gillepsie riposte in the Letter Page re Dave McC's Generation X slag-off
























































































































































































































































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Wednesday, February 20, 2019

kodwo kolumns #2

























the first batch posted in 2017










Thursday, August 16, 2018

Lost Soul





from NME, July 12 1982

in celebration of the reissue of Barney's Say It One Time for the Broken Hearted: Country Soul in the American South.

Friday, March 16, 2018

- this is not actually the first piece by Roy Hollingworth on The New York Dolls - he wrote an earlier one for Melody Maker, in July 1972, which appears to be the every first piece on the Dolls anywhere, beating all the local American critics to the punch. I don't have that one to hand, but this later celebration is very much of a piece with its spirit: a proto-punk exaltation of incompetence and the superiority of attitude over accomplishment, no doubt influenced by reading Creem.  

THE NEW YORK DOLLS

Melody Maker, November 24th 1973

by Roy Hollingworth

This is the story of the last rock and roll band. The New York Dolls. There won't be another. They are the last of propellor aircraft. What follows will mean nowt.
For the Dolls… Well, I would travel to Sydney, Australia — for they are the remnants of what it was all about.
Holiday Inn, Atlanta, Georgia. Clarissa was 19 when she first saw the New York Dolls. That was last night at Richards, Atlanta. Now she is 27, and knows everything about everything.
"They were like taking a legal drug man. I thought rock and roll was the Allman Brothers. It ain't. It's the New York Dolls."
After breakfast, and a cup of Chivas Regal whiskey which spread the tongue like acid, I wandered to the hotel bar.
Slaves
Two Georgia musicians sang scenes from Sgt. Pepper. The lead singer sang "How many moles in Blackburn. Lancashire." I laughed, and told him later that they don't have moles in Blackburn but holes.
"Why? said the singer, scratching his checked cowboy/John Wayne/Gene Autrey/Shirt.
"Because moles were banned from Lancashire in 1887 by Henry Plimsoll of Derby, who also invented white painted lines to put around the hulks of ships so they would not sink under the weight of slaves."
Ah! Slaves. Georgia. Where the main percentage of people who serve upon other people are Black. Some civil war!
"I want a slave" said David Jo Hansen, lead drinker of the Dolls.
It is 3.15 AM and I am stood on a street corner in Atlanta, and it is pouring. I am very wet. But as I wait for a cab, I am very happy.
Happy 'cause I just danced my thighs three inches thinner for the Dolls.
They crawled on stage. Arthur "Glib" Kane, Johnny "Nine Legs" Thunders, Sylvain Sylvain, Jerry Nolan, and Mr. Ego 1984 David Jo Hansen.
You know, my chums, this band makes Alice Cooper looks like the Bronte Sisters.
In other words, they are awful — in the truest and most beautiful sense of the word. Johnny Thunders left the stage in Chicago the other night and retched into the dressing room table of flowers. Now that is rock and roll.
Bombed
Audience seated sipping large drinks of vodka, mixed with pills and other luxuries.
"The critics really bombed us in Chicago," said David Jo Hansen, lead singer. "But we love criticism. We're not just masochistic about being put down. We're something else."
Lights on. Arthur Kane, bassist, mild as the very finest washing up liquid, stands. Arthur. Blond. He looks like a mutated Marlene Deitrich. But he plugs in and goes blmmm... blmmm... blmmm...
Sylvain Sylvain plays just one bloody chord and the blood runs. And that club moves.
Jo Hansen singing like a newspaper seller. He rips his shirt open and there is a white waistcoat and skin, and he bites the top off a bottle of California wine, and drinks it down, froth, bubbles and all.
And then he sucks the bottle. "WOW" say the girls close to the stage.
But I thought we were all singer songwriters now? I thought rock and roll was over? I thought when John Lennon sang 'All I Want Is The Truth' that it was the end and we'd all start singing Tom Paxton numbers again?
But nay. Here on this stage battles a baggage of balls and trousers and high-heeled shoes; and drunkeness and unwashed hair; and untuned guitars and songs that musicians would call a mess.
But a rock and roll child would say "God Bless You — You are so necessary!"
Rock and roll is sex. And the Dolls played on. And they played sex. Non-stop.
They scratched and broke picks and played licks that were sick and copied and had been played before. But never like this! Never like the Dolls played it.
And then there was the lovely looking lady who shook her lips and danced 'Personality Crisis'.
Robbery
She dances, and falls, and the guys around her laugh. It wasn't funny. I picked her up. The Dolls jive on. Jive like there was never, ever again to be a tomorrow. And in this case there wasn't.
My head aches, with enjoyment. 12-bar boogie, chords struck like a lumberjack struck a tree. Who are we?
There was a television in the lounge. There was a bank robbery this very evening. And you know — this was the worst bank robbery ever. There was a live film of it.
They — the Georgia State Police — put 48 bullets in that robber. And when his body started to fall apart they stopped shooting. We heard the shooting. We saw the body.
Ever and anon, like a cigarette smoker takes a cigarette to his lips, we went back and danced to The Dolls. The Dolls. Now a pigsty of sweaty smell and stale alcohol. But they still play.
No! No messages. No instructions through song! Nothing to think about. Nothing to admire. Few words rhyme, or for that matter mean anything.
But when spewed by David Jo Hansen — then they are rock and roll. No! No protest songs that mean anything. Just... Just... Protest.
The hottest thing I've seen. Hotter than 12 pokers thrust in your eyes. Hotter than Marlene Dietrich — is the New York Dolls.

Thursday, February 15, 2018

D-Generation starring...


D-Generation are highly influenced by '60s mod and freakbeat. This Manchester trio took their name from The Eyes' "My Degeneration", a parody of The Who's anthem. D-Generation love the psychedelic/psychotic intensity of freakbeat bands like The Eyes, John's Children, The Creation, but they don't want to recreate it. Psychedelia means abusing technology, they argue, and today that means fucking with samplers and sequencers, not guitars.

Unlike These Animal Men and Blur, D-Generation haven't forgotten that mod was short for modernist. The original mods wanted to fast-forward into the future, not replay lost
golden ages. So D-Generation's "psychedelic futurism" draws on ambient and jungle--music that's absolutely NOW, absolutely BRITISH. And instead of the usual iconography of swinging London or English whimsy, D-Generation pledge allegiance to a "dark, deviant tradition"
of Englishness that includes The Fall, Syd Barrett, Wyndham Lewis, Powell/Pressburger and Michael Moorcock.

D-Generation's atmospheric dance is like a twilight-zone Ultramarine--lots of English imagery, but instead of bucolic bliss, the vibe is urban decay, dread and disassociation. On
their EP "Entropy In the UK", "73/93" rails against the "Nostalgia Conspiracy", using Dr Who samples of "no future". D-Generation call their music "techno haunted by the ghost of
punk" and on 'The Condition Of Muzak' that's literally the case, as it samples Johnny Rotten's infamous taunt: 'ever get the feeling you've been cheated?". Originally, the target was
rave culture itself, but this has widened out, says band ideologue Simon Biddell, "to implicate the entire culture of cynical irony." Then there's "Rotting Hill", a stab at "a 'Ghost Town' for the '90s"; Elgar's patriotic triumphalism is offset by samples from the movie Lucky Jim--"Merrie England? England was never merry!".
D-Generation, says Biddell, are dismayed by the way "young people are content to embrace a rock canon handed down to them, and seem unable to embrace the present, let alone
posit a future." But they're optimistic about the emergence of "a counter-scene, bands like Disco Inferno, Bark Psychosis, Pram, Insides, who are using ambient and techno ideas but
saying something about the 'real world', not withdrawing from it".

Add D-Generation to the list of this nation's saving graces.





and the sequel act