tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-166513112024-03-12T18:19:07.748-07:00Confessions Of A Closet-FolkieThe comings and goings of transplanted English singer/songwriter Steve RobinsonSteve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.comBlogger98125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-25387910848016974202023-01-31T19:34:00.001-08:002023-01-31T19:34:18.007-08:00I Don't Hear a Single<div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYO1CfwuqekllKoCNcr4FUkr9Mj9frsuPRnowEirXYHXYWZzDNxvXCztu14zhGbqcle2FXDDxTWm2yoa8jia_eI9rahMBHhoaPBJurjbBFeFwBN2s_AmhoqpBdQ3qcN6ejSXsA4eF9tNPqgRMvnCHwLLciH4vfx2mkFQqh2IPsYBlBy1aSog/s1655/W204_Robinson-Woltil_Shadow-Play_front2.JPEG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1497" data-original-width="1655" height="361" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYO1CfwuqekllKoCNcr4FUkr9Mj9frsuPRnowEirXYHXYWZzDNxvXCztu14zhGbqcle2FXDDxTWm2yoa8jia_eI9rahMBHhoaPBJurjbBFeFwBN2s_AmhoqpBdQ3qcN6ejSXsA4eF9tNPqgRMvnCHwLLciH4vfx2mkFQqh2IPsYBlBy1aSog/w400-h361/W204_Robinson-Woltil_Shadow-Play_front2.JPEG" width="400" /></a></div><br /> </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Aside from having one of the best blog (and blogger) names out there, Don Valentine is the cool bloke and astute writer behind the "I Don't Hear A Single" site. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">With a dizzying array of indie music reviews, it's obvious that he loves the music he writes about, and feels a kinship with us struggling artists out there who persist in this whole music-making lark. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Obviously, releasing albums with a view to making money is a bit of a fool's errand, so speaking for myself, it's all <span style="font-family: inherit;"><a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;" tabindex="-1"></a></span>a bit of a labour of love. I simply want to create records that I can be proud of; let the chips fall where they may. The reality is that it can be a lonely and frustrating endeavour out there putting these things together on miniscule budgets and struggling to promote them (ask anyone with "Independent Musician" in their bio!), so having someone who values what we bring to the table and takes the time to shine a little light on it, is really encouraging and much appreciated. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Have a look around his site and see for yourself, and while you're there have a look at his kind words about <a href="https://hearasingle.blogspot.com/2022/12/steve-robinson-ed-woltil-shadow-play.html?fbclid=IwAR1OeAjG1jfdnYg7qFHs7KbYDrsGc3w8YBc4V06zN2IC-bWvjFhgLScjJtM" target="_blank">Shadow Play</a></div>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-12164625695537539082023-01-06T06:33:00.002-08:002023-01-06T06:33:56.257-08:00Life On A Trampoline<div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/hJMpAhCY6G4" width="320" youtube-src-id="hJMpAhCY6G4"></iframe></div><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Robinson sisters (Steve and Emma) on background vocals; XTC's Dave Gregory on his trusty SG; Ed Woltil on loads of stuff, including his beloved Looney Tunes timpani drum. (Don't ask)</div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">It's a scream...it's Life On a Trampoline!</div>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-19545372049099927092022-10-11T18:50:00.001-07:002022-10-11T18:50:51.310-07:00Read Listen Watch<p><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"><img alt="Robinson & Woltil Shadow Play review" class="attachment-twentyseventeen-featured-image size-twentyseventeen-featured-image wp-post-image" height="508" loading="lazy" sizes="100vw" src="https://i0.wp.com/readlistenwatch.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/220921-07.jpg?resize=940%2C788&ssl=1" srcset="https://i0.wp.com/readlistenwatch.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/220921-07.jpg?w=940&ssl=1 940w, https://i0.wp.com/readlistenwatch.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/220921-07.jpg?resize=300%2C251&ssl=1 300w, https://i0.wp.com/readlistenwatch.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/220921-07.jpg?resize=768%2C644&ssl=1 768w" width="552" /></p><p>A heartfelt thank you to Andres Kabel, for his rather eloquent review of <i>Shadow Play</i>. It's the first one out of the gate and it's a beaut. Thank you sir!</p><p><a href="https://readlistenwatch.com/2022/shadow-play/" target="_blank">https://readlistenwatch.com/2022/shadow-play/</a><br /></p>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-923075861955758762022-10-07T19:42:00.001-07:002022-10-07T19:42:16.936-07:00What we did on our Covid holidays...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglBcUldROxRmrSQnfrPPVma2QGWSJMhKX11gtv59N-07ceAzLgOUG5oL4TQclOkvHAamye9kJAgaxolg3ie5dP3oilEMOX0QN-lwb5X9VTIuMRph1DQB83yyFGfQKe1AUhAeUmMPDZ8de53MnJbXWt4XITPkZxOJpXNEG8fMSCWo-_XKJrUw/s1655/W204_Robinson-Woltil_Shadow-Play_front2.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1497" data-original-width="1655" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglBcUldROxRmrSQnfrPPVma2QGWSJMhKX11gtv59N-07ceAzLgOUG5oL4TQclOkvHAamye9kJAgaxolg3ie5dP3oilEMOX0QN-lwb5X9VTIuMRph1DQB83yyFGfQKe1AUhAeUmMPDZ8de53MnJbXWt4XITPkZxOJpXNEG8fMSCWo-_XKJrUw/s320/W204_Robinson-Woltil_Shadow-Play_front2.JPEG" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><i>Cycle</i>, the last Steve Robinson & Ed Woltil release back in 2015 holds a special place in my heart. A fair amount of blood, sweat, tears and grinding of teeth went into it. As I remember, we originally envisioned it as a bloated double album set; almost a willful attempt to be as unbearably pretentious as possible. Ultimately, common sense prevailed as we jettissoned several songs and a rather pompous instrumental segue section, ending up with a rather more sensible 12-track album (13 tracks, if you count the opening 20-second prelude that somehow eluded the editing scissors.)</div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><i>Shadow Play</i> proved to be an altogether smoother affair. Songs came together quite quickly and it seemed like we zoomed from exchanging early sketched song ideas to hashing out final mixdown decisions in the blink of an eye. I really can't take much credit for this; much of it was down to Ed's alarming work ethic and otherworldy musical focus. His instincts are such, that instrumental touches he adds to our songs almost always seem to hit the mark. He does it so quickly too. I mean, I'm really quite happy with my musical contributions to a slew of the songs we've worked on together, but I also know they're usually a result of considerable trial and error. I'll add and replace guitar and vocal parts over a few weeks until I feel I've landed on the right approach. Ed, on the other hand, will receive a song of mine via email, and the next day he'll toss it back painted with instrumental colours that I didn't even realise I wanted. Mental.</div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;">Now, I don't know if this album is better than <i>Cycle </i>(whatever that might mean) but for me, I think that making this one might have been even more enjoyable, in a way. Whether it's due to getting older and more sappy, limping through the jarring stops and starts of the pandemic/lockdown, or simply the realization of just how special it is to have a musical foil like Ed to work with, I'm really not sure. I do feel like our hearts are in it though, and I just treasure it. </div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;">The album will soon be available at the usual streaming sites (iTunes, Spotify, Apple Music etc) and hard copies in a swanky gatefold CD wallet with lovely artwork courtesy of Ed will also be available at Bandcamp. Speaking of which, we’re set up for pre-orders of <i>Shadow Play</i> at the Bandcamp site. You get 2 tracks now (a power-pop nugget called <i>Kickstart</i> and a rather bouncy, Beatlesque gem called <i>Life On a Trampoline</i>, which features XTC’s Dave Gregory on guitar duty), plus the complete album the moment it’s released. Have a listen here: <a href="https://steverobinsonedwoltil.bandcamp.com/album/shadow-play" target="_blank">Shadow Play</a></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-16828276103876445252021-08-22T19:28:00.003-07:002021-08-22T19:30:08.114-07:00Highly recommended, apparently...<p> <img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBzg8652wJ9Gl1Rsc3wpXb_ERxwtltDCXRHFcoNIV4uGynB5FfeigQ1B0MJOzKy_KWSSiet6ef4tu7PoEklybyzhhnV-uLasa3_Dz8NY42GdwRY69zATZq6TGxyNXm4pH8L4bL/w640-h640/2.jpg" width="280" /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">"With The Headlights connection, it will probably be labelled Folk Pop, but Swallowing The Sun is more Pastoral Pop. It is a beautifully arranged album, gentle, magnificently moody, whilst still being melodic. Plenty of hooks, but far more it is about a vibe." - Don Valentine, <i>I Don't Hear a Single</i></span></p><p><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Really kind words from Mr Valentine, for sure. Don't know if he hears a single or not, but I'll take it anyway...</span></p><p><a href="https://hearasingle.blogspot.com/2021/08/steve-robinson-swallowing-sun.html?m=1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">https://hearasingle.blogspot.com/2021/08/steve-robinson-swallowing-sun.html?m=1</span></a></p>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-47583217716176166982021-07-14T18:44:00.001-07:002021-07-14T18:44:49.028-07:00Wild God<div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="1r4aq-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="1r4aq-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="1r4aq-0-0">When I was a kid, religious people were towering figures, rather than cowering ones. Being a good Christian was hard; it was a lofty goal that took a lot of work, commitment and, well…goodness. For starters, you were expected to look after your fellow man without lusting after his wife, tend to the poor and infirm, forgive those who would do you harm, and be able to drop all manner of biblical verses into casual conversation. When asked for your favorite bible quote, answering, “5 Corinthians walked into a bar...” probably means you're not up to the task. </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="5pqt0-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="5pqt0-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="5pqt0-0-0"><br data-text="true" /></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="9f0c9-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="9f0c9-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="9f0c9-0-0">Now, despite my smart-arse attitude and assorted moral failings, I always respected those who called themselves Christians and did their best to live up to the ideals of their faith. I still do, despite the preponderance of loudly hypocritical bible thumpers in the political realm who wield their holy book as weapons of a culture war of their own creation. </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="e70lr-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="e70lr-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="e70lr-0-0"><br data-text="true" /></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="1iptc-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="1iptc-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="1iptc-0-0">Those who attend church and quietly follow the teachings of Jesus Christ with kindness and love in their hearts are inspiring; fetid prosperity-gospel charlatans fleecing the vulnerable, and dog-whistling politicos spouting out random bible verses to justify their hideous deeds and rampant cowardice is just nauseating. It’s so far away from what I was taught about the Christian faith, that I can’t help but think that if Jesus were to return (and assuming he could get through immigration), he would kick their sorry arses.</span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="7r2p3-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="7r2p3-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="7r2p3-0-0"><br data-text="true" /></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="88h1s-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="88h1s-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="88h1s-0-0"><br /></span></div><div data-offset-key="88h1s-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="88h1s-0-0"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/OnM-aXv5skg" width="320" youtube-src-id="OnM-aXv5skg"></iframe></div><br /><br /></span></div><div data-offset-key="88h1s-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="88h1s-0-0">Wild God (lyrics)</span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="6ji1g-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="6ji1g-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="6ji1g-0-0"><br data-text="true" /></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="91k2m-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="91k2m-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="91k2m-0-0">Heading south with butter melting in your mouth </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="72dqa-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="72dqa-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="72dqa-0-0">It’s drawn and quartered messenger for tea </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="e9cc2-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="e9cc2-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="e9cc2-0-0">Egos grazed and voices raised and there’s no doubt </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="69k2k-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="69k2k-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="69k2k-0-0">You exhale and I’ll forget to breathe </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="430u0-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="430u0-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="430u0-0-0"><br data-text="true" /></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="er91f-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="er91f-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="er91f-0-0">Deva fly on broken wing </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="abtl6-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="abtl6-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="abtl6-0-0">Church of rage and idiot king </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="53qe3-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="53qe3-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="53qe3-0-0">Sing again </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="398ie-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="398ie-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="398ie-0-0">Eat your words and spew your junk </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="bi3g4-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="bi3g4-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="bi3g4-0-0">Fill your boots till you’re all sunk </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="an20q-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="an20q-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="an20q-0-0">Drunk on wild god </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="d1he3-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="d1he3-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="d1he3-0-0"><br data-text="true" /></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="iku-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="iku-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="iku-0-0">Silk pajama dramas by the kitchen sink </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="56go9-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="56go9-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="56go9-0-0">You kill all conversation with your thumbs </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="4730k-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="4730k-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="4730k-0-0">There’s no shame, there's no taboo, just doublethink </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="ret3-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="ret3-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="ret3-0-0">Gift the kool aid knowing they’ll succumb </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="4sf41-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="4sf41-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="4sf41-0-0"><br data-text="true" /></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="2msds-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="2msds-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="2msds-0-0">Deva fly on broken wing </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="939r2-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="939r2-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="939r2-0-0">Church of rage and idiot king </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="7q003-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="7q003-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="7q003-0-0">Sing again and again </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="5rc7b-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="5rc7b-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="5rc7b-0-0">Eat your words and spew your junk </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="cvq9i-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="cvq9i-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="cvq9i-0-0">Fill your boots till you’re all sunk </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="db99c-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="db99c-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="db99c-0-0">Drunk on wild god </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="avg31-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="avg31-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="avg31-0-0">Drunk on wild, wild god </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="8l2s9-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="8l2s9-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="8l2s9-0-0"><br data-text="true" /></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="c3e6q-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="c3e6q-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="c3e6q-0-0">Look who’s crawling out from underneath his stone </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="9rh9g-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="9rh9g-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="9rh9g-0-0">Loosey-goosey stepping as he goes </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="84nk6-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="84nk6-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="84nk6-0-0">There’s no rest for the wicked or the innocent </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="e27ia-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="e27ia-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="e27ia-0-0">in sad saluting, empty suited rows </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="7f1tv-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="7f1tv-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="7f1tv-0-0"><br data-text="true" /></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="5ervq-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="5ervq-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="5ervq-0-0">Deva fly on broken wing </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="5r030-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="5r030-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="5r030-0-0">Church of rage and idiot king </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="6pjk0-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="6pjk0-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="6pjk0-0-0">Sings again and again </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="bm4fm-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="bm4fm-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="bm4fm-0-0">Eat your words and spew your junk </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="5iak9-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="5iak9-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="5iak9-0-0">Fill your boots till you’re all sunk </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="70q6p-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="70q6p-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="70q6p-0-0">Drunk on wild god </span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="dqgat" data-offset-key="a1jo1-0-0" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px;"><div data-offset-key="a1jo1-0-0" style="direction: ltr;"><span data-offset-key="a1jo1-0-0">Drunk on wild, wild god</span></div></div>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-54700750556948846492021-06-07T18:59:00.002-07:002021-06-08T18:17:17.315-07:00Living in the moment?<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WMnT1hvmgrU" width="320" youtube-src-id="WMnT1hvmgrU"></iframe></div><br /><p></p><div>Another silly one from <i>Swallowing The Sun; </i>one totally deserving of a little silly visual accompaniment.</div><div><br /></div><div>Emptying your head in order to become fully immersed in the moment sounds simple enough, but it's a royal struggle isn't it? I think it might be a little easier to do in a song than in everyday life. That is, until your dog barges into your studio during a vocal take. As you can hear, I left in Finley's contribution at the close of the song. It seemed like the zen thing to do. Or something.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-30916619710117533512021-06-07T13:29:00.001-07:002021-06-07T13:31:02.281-07:00Can you dig it?<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">"Robinson’s regal melodies offer the essence of a timeless treasure, with each track as absolutely effusive as the next. This </span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Sun </span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">shines brightly indeed." - Lee Zimmerman</span></i><br /></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisnZu_p7V8SjEDnPwdpQh400FHRLGderRWzwMvMKMGoLy2uqgX3LXEuwXk-teC_QlYc7AqrAea0hRiii2dMbqNZT7sVXvsDOdeChD04NNK5eiQeIiqIuShn9Yy2pa84_BbVWFZ/s225/Goldmine.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisnZu_p7V8SjEDnPwdpQh400FHRLGderRWzwMvMKMGoLy2uqgX3LXEuwXk-teC_QlYc7AqrAea0hRiii2dMbqNZT7sVXvsDOdeChD04NNK5eiQeIiqIuShn9Yy2pa84_BbVWFZ/w337-h400/Goldmine.png" width="337" /></a></div><p></p><p>As befitting a self-confessed music nerd, I've perused many a copy of Goldmine Magazine over the years, so I was more than a little chuffed to see that Lee Zimmerman had written a few kind words for the publication in question: <a href="https://www.goldminemag.com/columns/indie-spotlight-steve-robinson-brian-dolzani-evvan-and-others">https://www.goldminemag.com/columns/indie-spotlight-steve-robinson-brian-dolzani-evvan-and-others</a></p>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-66686572467391696822021-05-03T19:29:00.003-07:002021-05-04T19:00:52.725-07:00Raising a glass to an old friend...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/xEc35pm6Vho" width="320" youtube-src-id="xEc35pm6Vho"></iframe></div><br /><p>It's tough to know where to begin when talking about my old Headlights bandmate, Steve Connelly. Over the years, his influence on me has been quite immense. </p><p>In the summer of '82, I left the UK armed with a couple of guitars, an armful of XTC, Jam, and Echo & The Bunnymen records, a clean change of underwear, and the vague notion of finding a band who might be in search of a foreign singer with no concrete plans, limited funds and no work permit. Looking back, it was all a bit ridiculous; a venture doomed to failure that would see me scurrying sheepishly back home when the money ran out. But, when you arrive in a strange land and you're in your early twenties, you pay no mind to such trivialities and get straight to the job at hand: you go to the pub.<br /><br />In this case, it was Clancy's, a local Irish-themed hangout that somehow managed to avoid selling draught Guinness anywhere on their premises, but did serve up live music 6 nights a week. Someone had suggested going there to see a band called The Headlights; one of the area's best they'd told me. So, I went along to have a look. Truth be told, they reeled me in rather quickly.</p><p>They were a tight and polished band, to be sure, with a big-voiced female singer fronting the band, a swaggering bassist with quite the gift of on-stage gab, an overly talented singing drummer, and a skinny Les Paul-clad lad who played guitar like he couldn't put a foot wrong if he tried. </p><p>During one of their breaks, I approached said guitar player, introduced myself and casually asked if I could give him my number in case he heard of anyone who might be in need of a singer. As it turned out, it was a bit of a life-changing moment, because he chuckled at my suggestion, told me that their singer would soon be leaving the band, and that he'd call me to set up an audition.<br /><br />I don't remember too much about the audition really, but it must have gone well, because I was playing shows with The Headlights within a few weeks, and would continue to do so for the next dozen or so years. As twee and trite as it may sound, the fact is that over time, the Headlights just became my family. Over the years, we'd come to see each other through assorted bereavements, marriages, divorces, births and even an ill-advised attempt to cover Prince's <i>Purple Rain</i> (don't ask).</p><p>Now, it's quite obvious to anyone who has watched Steve Connelly play, that they're watching a special talent. Calling him a great guitar player is akin to saying that Dylan has a way with words, or that Paul McCartney can carry a tune, and quite honestly, no matter how many years pass, listening to him can often be an eyebrow-raising experience for me. There have been so many times, both on stage and in the studio, where I've even found myself on the verge of laughter at the sheer impudence of some of his musical forays. If the mood struck him, he might lurch from an Albert Lee-like countryish chicken-pickin' solo, into a few windmilled Townshendian power chords before shifting into some sort of Richard Thompson-like workout with scales that sounded like they were coming from Istanbul rather than Nashville. He would pull this sort of stunt off almost nightly, and he made it look effortless. </p><p>So, here we are, closing in on 40 years later, and while people still love to see Steve Connelly's on-stage guitar heroics, in my view, Steve has become a more subdued and thoughtful kind of guitar player. Oh, he's still capable of dropping jaws and melting faces and all that, but these days, he seems to have more of an interest in getting to the heart of the musical matter at hand. To my ears, his parts seem more measured and emotionally direct. It's just another layer of the man's talent coming to the fore, I suppose, and it's a beautiful thing to behold.</p><p>During the tracking for <i>Swallowing The Sun</i>, my friend and producer, Ed Woltil, had been quite encouraging about the song, <i>Skinful</i>, after I'd expressed doubts about it. It was a bit of a weird one for me, and I wasn't sure about it, but as Ed began to add a few of his own sonic touches, it started sounding pretty good, and I began to feel like it might be a worthwhile addition to the record. I did feel, though, that it was missing a lead instrument of some sort, and so we decided to ask Steve if he might care to add some pedal or lap steel to it. </p><p>Good move. </p><p>Steve ended up sending a couple of beautifully restrained, emotive takes for us to listen to, and Ed took both of them, crafting a mix that when I first heard it, gave me a real lump in the old throat. <i>Skinful</i> went from a hesitant contender to my favourite track on the album. Whether the song is really good, poor or somewhere in between, I don't really know. What I do know, is how it makes me feel when I hear it, and I'm just dead chuffed that for some four minutes and thirty-four seconds, I feel in sync once again with a beloved family member.</p><p>How's that for twee and trite?</p><p><br /></p><p><br /><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>. </p><p><br /></p>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-43787111203427319922021-04-18T20:37:00.001-07:002021-04-18T20:37:38.828-07:00After ever happily...<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Bm_TvzrEXh8" width="320" youtube-src-id="Bm_TvzrEXh8"></iframe></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Some of my songs might be a little on the serious side. This is not one of them.</span></p>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-68743507617889903992021-04-11T20:50:00.001-07:002021-04-12T16:50:36.324-07:00These things take time...<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/hnqiWQ4gOpc" width="320" youtube-src-id="hnqiWQ4gOpc"></iframe></div><br /><p><i>Needle in The Red</i> had been around, in some form or another, for a couple of decades or so before it finally saw its release on <i>Swallowing The Sun</i>. I'd actually written it during my time with <i>The Headlights</i>; we'd even played it live a couple of times and recorded a demo of it at some point. For some reason, it never became a regular part of our setlist and I suppose I just filed it away for a rainy day.</p><p>One day, when Ed and I were assembling songs for our <i>Cycle</i> album, it happened to be pissing it down... so I decided to have another crack at recording the song. After basic tracks and vocals were done, I invited Dave Gregory to play on it to see if he might help breathe new life into it. He did. </p><p>Frustratingly, the new recording was beset with all sorts of technical problems (probably all my fault) and a protracted period of trying to work around assorted glitches, time clock issues and other headache-inducing concerns pushed my co-producers, Ed Woltil and Brian Merrill, close to breaking point. So, the song was shelved. Filed away for a different rainy day, you might say.</p><p>I hated the fact that a song that we'd worked so hard on might never see the light of day, so when I began work on <i>Swallowing The Sun</i>, I always hoped that <i>Needle in The Red</i> might find a way to poke its head out from between the rain clouds and make a belated appearance. Since Ed was tasked with the bulk of the production duties, it fell on his shoulders to wade through old files, discarding problematic ones and insisting upon the re-recording of others. Despite coming perilously close to donning a straightjacket at one point, he somehow managed to get the song ship-shape, and on to the album it went. Now you know who to blame...</p><p>So is it a snarky song about religious beliefs, or is it perhaps my clunky effort at an anti-drug song? Buggered if I know; it's been way too long since it was written for me to recall. It's probably best just to ignore my plaintive bleating and simply languish in the glory that is Dave Gregory's guitar playing. </p>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-80147033136379518492021-04-08T19:31:00.005-07:002021-04-08T19:34:21.278-07:00Swallowing The Fun...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><p style="font-size: 15px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvYDaG3R_AnkWZSuYkU5RJl3iTCAs2DWo10xbhE2Rs3GW9m7P0NTv_MVSdaLO_ZdHJfZLo-NCnkhR2EIZseXV6fVm3nfCsUZDq6CIqqvLtjPqtBWP7qscMv3K1OHWr-QwicavS/s1200/Robinson_STS_coffeetable+copy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1200" height="453" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvYDaG3R_AnkWZSuYkU5RJl3iTCAs2DWo10xbhE2Rs3GW9m7P0NTv_MVSdaLO_ZdHJfZLo-NCnkhR2EIZseXV6fVm3nfCsUZDq6CIqqvLtjPqtBWP7qscMv3K1OHWr-QwicavS/w606-h453/Robinson_STS_coffeetable+copy.jpg" width="606" /></a></div><br /><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><p></p><span style="font-family: inherit;">An English writer living in Sventorp, Sweden, reviewing an album by an English songwriter from Scunthorpe, England, living in Western North Carolina, USA ... for a Scottish-based music site? Sounds like a set up for lame jokes aplenty doesn't it?</span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">See if my album is funny (it isn't) right here: <a href="http://pennyblackmusic.co.uk/Home/Details?id=26666" target="_blank">Pennyblack Music</a></span></p>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-11568994592324630352021-03-29T19:31:00.002-07:002021-04-08T19:35:12.732-07:00Sorry Amsterdam<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/wZ0r1ABIng0" width="320" youtube-src-id="wZ0r1ABIng0"></iframe></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;">Because he's a clever swine who can do just about everything well, my mate Ed Woltil crafted this lovely lyric video for the opening track from my Swallowing The Sun record.</span></span></p><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So, is the song an aural love letter to mildly morose Mancunians, Morrissey & Marr? Or is it simply a self-indulgent reflection on a personal musical journey in his adopted homeland? Maybe a bit of both...</span></div></div>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-83776398459921740462021-03-21T20:13:00.001-07:002021-04-08T19:35:36.143-07:00Make You Mine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/sX-9v2g23Kg" width="320" youtube-src-id="sX-9v2g23Kg"></iframe></div><br /><p><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Someone mentioned to me that <i>Make You Mine</i> from the new record reminded them of The Hollies. It caught me by surprise, but after thinking about it, I think I hear what they mean, in the melody, if not the instrumentation. </span></p><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yes, for those of us of a certain age, it's very dificult to hide from the melodic influence of the bands from that era isn't it? Whether it's The Stones, The Kinks, The Beatles or Bob Dylan, it's just an unavoidable fact of our musical lives.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Although I might be little more flattered at the mention of Andy Partridge or Richard Thompson, personally, I think it might be closer to Peter Noone and Herman's Hermits. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Good enough...</span></div>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-6214034211064346852021-03-16T18:58:00.002-07:002021-03-18T19:00:38.664-07:00You may leave Scunthorpe, but Scunthorpe never leaves you, etc...<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPU2FV5bjyYRstFpji2WvkVo6x-nE8W4mNC85zNOQy_rN3b5IFUhv2Ctb6suaak7QwI_rhETihaHWAkRfmQAj1UqjIxTyWum5GOdn-6NjMkx7Ftbps_kgWUPNTS-NXlhW9Dzhr/s360/atb-logo.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPU2FV5bjyYRstFpji2WvkVo6x-nE8W4mNC85zNOQy_rN3b5IFUhv2Ctb6suaak7QwI_rhETihaHWAkRfmQAj1UqjIxTyWum5GOdn-6NjMkx7Ftbps_kgWUPNTS-NXlhW9Dzhr/s320/atb-logo.png" /></a></div><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(15, 20, 25); color: #0f1419; white-space: pre-wrap;"><p style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 23px;"><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(15, 20, 25); color: #0f1419; font-size: 23px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;">The latest review of the new record, courtesy of At The Barrier, contains the phrase, “Steve Robinson is an amiable, self-deprecating Scunthonian”. </span></span><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(15, 20, 25); color: #0f1419; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It goes without saying that "Self-Deprecating Scunthonians" makes for a hell of a band name, and I'm wondering if I should also print some business cards emblazoned with that very slogan.</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(15, 20, 25); color: #0f1419; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Read the full review here: </span></span><a href="https://atthebarrier.com/2021/03/14/steve-robinson-swallowing-the-sun-album-review/" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(15, 20, 25); white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">At The Barrier - Swallowing The Sun</span></a></p><p><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(15, 20, 25); color: #0f1419; font-size: 23px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-76568450039325955342021-03-15T19:50:00.005-07:002021-03-15T19:52:01.638-07:00Powerpopaholics of the world unite...<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZT0T_tstmI6oAj4NtnIfOqW4yDL5oaV_mfrbHkVffirZG3bC3dgkANsJKvVfbPxuuBpw8tE5oz4zVDQW2S4iGC0T_H9VKqrGUDmXnEPA0QR4MnMzxRQ7NIdkj6pd1wsSo-5u/s180/21430410_10155696682173205_3364053425186708771_n.png" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="200" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZT0T_tstmI6oAj4NtnIfOqW4yDL5oaV_mfrbHkVffirZG3bC3dgkANsJKvVfbPxuuBpw8tE5oz4zVDQW2S4iGC0T_H9VKqrGUDmXnEPA0QR4MnMzxRQ7NIdkj6pd1wsSo-5u/s200/21430410_10155696682173205_3364053425186708771_n.png"/></a></div>
Kind words from Powerpopaholic. Have a look-see:
<a href="https://www.powerpopaholic.com/2021/03/steve-robinson-and-my-life-as-a-dog.html?fbclid=IwAR0Y1NMyYq_83ut5K8d6IBiglz0BQYG7Lh6Spbn6FvQLV4r0sD-R5q6YNZ8">https://www.powerpopaholic.com/2021/03/steve-robinson-and-my-life-as-a-dog.html?fbclid=IwAR0Y1NMyYq_83ut5K8d6IBiglz0BQYG7Lh6Spbn6FvQLV4r0sD-R5q6YNZ8</a>
Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-48930490177886469442021-03-09T18:33:00.003-08:002021-03-09T18:37:26.056-08:00I must not sleep in class, I must not sleep in class...etc<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2p5XhKpmHsO3TIS85fplhYrmdPm6QOx5ukfq0waXZ7nBVFd475F4sHE1LnXRCpFpAuK3ZsM3JRjSVMKiLdlSXLD4AXy8oaYBYidLPyX-7FOUtcKaTh9ibbXrAJkAoByKklbgv/s600/s26_logo_2020_600.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2p5XhKpmHsO3TIS85fplhYrmdPm6QOx5ukfq0waXZ7nBVFd475F4sHE1LnXRCpFpAuK3ZsM3JRjSVMKiLdlSXLD4AXy8oaYBYidLPyX-7FOUtcKaTh9ibbXrAJkAoByKklbgv/s320/s26_logo_2020_600.jpg"/></a></div>
One of my French teachers at school would often get quite exasperated by my total lack of interest in learning the language he so dearly loved. The more he declared that it was a thing of unparalled beauty (often by pounding violently on the desk), and that I should really embrace it, the more my disdain for it grew. He once shook me from a deep classroom slumber to let me know that one day I'd come to deeply regret not learning this beautiful language and have it greatly enrich my life.
That day is now. Maybe if I'd listened and not been such a loathsome little prat, I'd be able to fully appreciate this review written by Matthieu Grunfeld at Section 26:
<a href="https://section-26.fr/steve-robinson-swallowing-the-sun-sunshine-drenchy-records/?fbclid=IwAR06s8Lsu1ZnKKWBuqjQN5wIp9MbhFzFPEqfva6GO0Gp-tT58uC1ZvJ5Yfs">https://section-26.fr/steve-robinson-swallowing-the-sun-sunshine-drenchy-records/?fbclid=IwAR06s8Lsu1ZnKKWBuqjQN5wIp9MbhFzFPEqfva6GO0Gp-tT58uC1ZvJ5Yfs
</a>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-48087262320247387082021-03-01T18:32:00.003-08:002021-03-01T18:32:55.753-08:00Swallowing The Sun and Paper Boats<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_JhGLP1gtC7QV9-v8HIyVN5J-7YlDVQ9HFwmCnOXc9p_xgEZJlkO-Wg9Dfjn4d-VyApemvwC_9mScDpe6M8NpT_PxW9oRl-E-5PROwDzAEWlFz2JX7ecAOpCxCffH1bcydjFw/s1024/PaperBoats.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="526" data-original-width="1024" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_JhGLP1gtC7QV9-v8HIyVN5J-7YlDVQ9HFwmCnOXc9p_xgEZJlkO-Wg9Dfjn4d-VyApemvwC_9mScDpe6M8NpT_PxW9oRl-E-5PROwDzAEWlFz2JX7ecAOpCxCffH1bcydjFw/w400-h205/PaperBoats.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">"</span><a href="https://steverobinson.bandcamp.com/album/swallowing-the-sun" rel="noreferrer noopener" style="font-family: arial;" target="_blank">Swallowing the Sun</a><span style="font-family: arial;"> just gives me a good good feeling, like a snatch of warm sunshine somehow embedded in song", so says t</span><span style="font-family: arial;">he lovely and talented writer, Dennis Pilon over at</span><i style="font-family: arial;"> PopRock Record.</i></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Dennis is a fine and cultured gentleman from Toronto, Canada, and apparently he wrote that (of his own volition no less!) about this distinctly uncultured layabout from Scunthorpe, Lincolnshire, which pleases me to no end. He also had understandably complimentary things to say about my friend and musical partner, Ed Woltil. You can read the article right here: <a href="https://poprockrecord.com/2021/02/21/this-is-steve-and-ed-swallowing-the-sun-and-paper-boats/">poprockrecord.com</a></span></p>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-37961543810210578722021-02-25T13:19:00.003-08:002021-02-26T09:56:09.828-08:00Quiet One...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/lP4zxAFZj1k" width="320" youtube-src-id="lP4zxAFZj1k"></iframe></div><br /><p>On <i>Cycle</i>, my duo album with Ed Woltil, we'd been fortunate enough to have XTC guitargonaut, Dave Gregory, on board for a trio of songs. On one of them (<i>Elastic Man</i>), Dave had sent over a lovely slide guitar track that made me think of George Harrison. </p><p>I've always loved George's slide playing, and I suppose there was something in both Dave's tone and the way he was playing, that to my ears, was reminiscent of the quiet Beatle. So, while working on the song, <i>Quiet One</i> - a fairly obvious nod to George - I knew I had to ask Dave if he might be interested in lending his formidable talents to it. </p><p>Thankfully, he was on board, and I have no qualms about admitting that when I first heard his playing on it, I got a little emotional*, choked up, even. I mean, I was chopping onions at the time, so who knows? (Ahem). Either way though, it sounds like he's channeling George to me, and it just makes me so happy.</p><p>* Yes, I do understand that admitting to getting emotional is akin to renouncing my British citizenship. So be it.</p>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-26022075982100776352021-02-23T12:13:00.001-08:002021-02-23T12:13:59.453-08:00Big down under? (oof!)<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx3105GUuuCvcqcm28bokG9nfeGHi5XmQzj6jIE7HEg5uOwqCHEJtp_De_qalBY84ML5wWQNHtJL9QIxsF-ruNhM3Fx468o4ZRPYUNVepgAKH-yWMLBbWGTPvpxcJEJSjj6lK6/s783/ReadListenWatch.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="783" data-original-width="557" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx3105GUuuCvcqcm28bokG9nfeGHi5XmQzj6jIE7HEg5uOwqCHEJtp_De_qalBY84ML5wWQNHtJL9QIxsF-ruNhM3Fx468o4ZRPYUNVepgAKH-yWMLBbWGTPvpxcJEJSjj6lK6/s320/ReadListenWatch.png" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Nice early review of <i>Swallowing The Sun</i>, from Andres Kabel at <i>Read Listen Watch</i>, by way of Melbourne, Australia. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">You can read it here: <a href="https://readlistenwatch.com/2021/swallowing-the-sun/" target="_blank">https://readlistenwatch.com/2021/swallowing-the-sun/</a></span></p><div><br /></div>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-66770288549292479202021-02-17T20:21:00.008-08:002021-02-24T14:41:11.923-08:00It's not rocket science...or is it?<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-D-Kz9idE6B1aujA1C0hm-TU97sEIGeFZUnfqInPyxGZQhyphenhyphen8AV9lFOiRgsFBbfcnaP4fKrbXUV7AEsFzWpnMOdp6eY9FJeG36cjG8mKn-jRsLEEJPh05hgTFCFGY5tAnyAUa/s2000/Swallowing+The+Sun+Front+Cover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-D-Kz9idE6B1aujA1C0hm-TU97sEIGeFZUnfqInPyxGZQhyphenhyphen8AV9lFOiRgsFBbfcnaP4fKrbXUV7AEsFzWpnMOdp6eY9FJeG36cjG8mKn-jRsLEEJPh05hgTFCFGY5tAnyAUa/s320/Swallowing+The+Sun+Front+Cover.jpg" /></a></div><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">Well, it may have taken the better part of four years (five), but I’ve finally managed to put the finishing touches to my latest long player. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">Swallowing The Sun</span></i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"> began its long and torturous life in my old hometown of St Petersburg, FL, was interrupted by an out-of-state family relocation, and finally came to fruition here in my new hometown of Hendersonville, NC, in the Blue Ridge mountains. It wasn’t actually recorded<i> in </i>the mountains, of course; it was recorded in my house. I mean, I’m not John Denver.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">Truth be told, I’d still be working on the bloody thing for another couple of excuse-filled years if not for the heroic efforts of my arse-kicking friend and co-producer, Ed Woltil. Aside from producing, mixing and musical hand holding, Ed’s instrumental prowess plays a major part in the proceedings and I'm perpetually indebted to him, both for his friendship, and for the fabulous and tasteful playing he contributed to this project. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">So, what does it sound like? Well, it has a dizzy love song (<i>Dizzy Love Song</i>); an earnest love song (<i>Proud of Our Love</i>); a song about being in love with family and treasuring those times when you manage to just catch yourself living in the moment with them (<i>Mr Empty Head</i>); as well as a gentle Beatle-ish ode to quietism (<i>Quiet One</i>) that features a stunning George Harrisonesque slide guitar cameo from XTC's Dave Gregory that would probably elicit a wry smile from the quiet Beatle himself<i>. </i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">So it’s a sappy and contentedly happy album then? Er, not so fast...there are also morose lyrical references to drug addiction (<i>Needle in The Red</i>), a stinging rebuke of religious pretenders and fiery demagogues alike (<i>Wild God</i>) as well as sneering metaphorical allusions to overindulgence and feelings of disillusionment, depression and mental exhaustion (<i>Skinful)</i> just to even things out. Sounds like fun, right?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">What? None of the usual sentimental and nostalgic hazy memory lane trips? Don’t be daft; of course there are... fish & chips, Gilbert O’Sullivan, Robertson’s jam jars, and the word, <i>radiogramme</i> are all included in just <i>one</i> song written about growing up in a northern English town in the 1970s (<i>Milk & a Dash</i>).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">Parental Advisory</span></i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">: The aforementioned song features the phrase, “the smell of baked beans & spam”. A tough one to explain to the kids. Or anyone, come to that. </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">Gluttons for punishment can listen to, and read more about the new record here at <a href="https://steverobinson.bandcamp.com">https://steverobinson.bandcamp.com</a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">Note</span></b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">: <i>Swallowing The Sun</i> can also be streamed at Spotify, iTunes, Apple, Amazon, and all of the usual streaming sites that continue to pay a royalty rate that has been known to cause feelings of disillusionment, depression and mental exhaustion. Side effects also include depression, irregular heartbeat, fever, constipation, diarrhea, nausea, fear of heights, fear of plumbing emotional depths, unexplained rashes, the occasional gnashing of teeth, and an irrational fear of releasing records.<o:p></o:p></span></p></span>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-83335628296790639962020-11-12T18:36:00.014-08:002020-11-12T18:40:35.504-08:00All in Good Time<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/eYivscwnsyw" width="320" youtube-src-id="eYivscwnsyw"></iframe></div><br /><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;">My overly talented friend and musical companion, Ed Woltil, recently released "One in My Tree". What is it? Just another collection of masterful and blissful pop, that's all. How beautiful is this song? Well, I'll tell you...it's beautiful enough that it almost scuppered my plans to release my own record. It's like Andy Partridge-level good, to my ears, and it made me feel more than a little insecure; like I should go back to the drawing board or something. Of course, I don't actually have a drawing board, but if I did, you can rest assured that I'd be going back to it real sharpish. Not that I'd be able to compete with this, so I'd probably just bang my head on it, but still...</span></div>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-69078083105542154732017-09-12T11:06:00.000-07:002017-09-12T11:06:07.111-07:00Waiting for Irma<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Despite living very close to Tampa Bay, a friend of mine opted to stay
at his home during Hurricane Irma. His wife, son, daughter and one of
their dogs, stayed with us for the duration. <br /><br />
Sometime during Irma's
approach, he'd sent over a goofy little video he'd just recorded of
himself cradling their other dog and dancing to the strains of Julie
Andrews singing "The Sound Of Music". It was absurd, and probably a
little out of charact<span class="text_exposed_show">er for him, but it brought the house down, so to speak.<br /> </span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show">This daffy little clip was our response to him; his daughter, Alexandra
getting in on the action with a couple of blanket twirls for good
measure. Although it certainly gave us all a laugh, it's not really
comically absurd at all, so he bested us in the Pythonesque department.
Now, if we'd have had Julie Andrews involved somehow, it might have been
a different story.</span>Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-61655039130853567852017-06-22T11:50:00.000-07:002017-06-22T11:50:45.910-07:00Fathers, daughters, brothers and neighbours...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As a young, pasty-faced teen, I discovered the Everly Brothers via our kindly neighbour, Pete Morris. Chock full of Elvis, Little Richard, Everly Brothers and Buddy Holly LPs, Pete's abundant record collection quickly betrayed his obsession with 50s American rock 'n roll, and fortunately for me, he was keen to share his wares.<br />
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One fateful day, he loaned my dad the Everly Brothers eponymous debut album, and despite the fact that the songs on it had all been recorded before I was even born, the pure sonic attack of their conjoined voices was a complete and utter revelation to me. I suppose it was the first time I became really aware of harmony singing, and I was hooked at first listen.<br />
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Looking back, it was a bit of an unlikely discovery for me. I mean, it <i>was</i> the early 70s after all, and being fully immersed in all things glam-rock, my time was spent fixated on Bowie and Bolan rather than Boudleaux and Bryant. At the time, the strains of those two-part bluegrass-inspired harmonies delivered by two quiffed brothers from Kentucky, were probably as alien to me as Ziggy Stardust and Electric Warrior were to my dad's generation. No matter though, hearing those impossibly crystalline voices ringing around our living room just left me wide-eyed, and it sort of re-shaped the way I heard music.<br />
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It's strange, I already had a guitar at that point - I couldn't really play it, but it did have lots of glitter glued to its body so I could look cool (daft) lip-syncing away to my T.Rex 45s - but I don't really remember ever trying to sing, prior to instinctively grasping for those Phil Everly harmony parts. Fortunately for me, my dad was quite a handy singer himself, and despite my mother's protestations, he and I would often try and emulate their singing. Some of my fondest memories involve the two of us having a go at "All I Have To Do Is Dream", "Wake Up Little Susie" and Bye-Bye Love" in our old living room. "Hey dad, you be Don and I'll be Phil!" (I'm embellishing; let me have this one, ok?)<br />
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Rose-tinted reminiscing notwithstanding, it <i>is</i> telling that the only time I've ever waited around for a post-show glimpse of any of my musical heroes was at an Everly Brothers show here in Florida back in the mid-90s. I'd gone prepared too; a reissued copy of that classic Everlys LP under one arm, and a sharpie in the other, and at the evening's close, I giddily left the venue with it signed by Phil and Don. <br />
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The following year, I returned to England for a brief visit, and the highlight of the trip for me just might have been seeing the look on the face of one Mr. Pete Morris when I knocked on his front door and handed him a belated thank-you note in the form of a signed copy of the album that he'd inadvertently schooled me with, some 25 years previous. <br />
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So here we are in 2017, and their music sounds as sublime as ever to me and much to my delight, my daughter seems to concur. Having her join me on this past Father's Day for a "Long Time Gone" singalong certainly brought a few of those fuzzy old memories of my dad and I singing together, into sharper focus. <br />
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Confession: It honestly didn't strike me until sometime during the writing of that last paragraph, that the album from whence this song came was actually titled, "Songs Our Daddy Taught Us". Given the backstory and the fortuitous Father's Day timing, it's probably way too cloyingly cute to mention it, but it's done now. <br />
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<br />Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16651311.post-91025048090965790292016-11-29T12:30:00.002-08:002016-11-30T06:58:37.217-08:00Ooh La La...<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3pE73GOtt-Y" width="560"></iframe>
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I always fancied having a go at a Faces song. Unfortunately for me and my lacklustre vocal range, the mighty Rod Stewart was their lead singer, so I steered well clear. Tackling a Rod vocal is akin to taking on a Paul Rodgers tune, or if you're really insane, a Steve Marriott one. Best not to attempt it and risk embarrassment or injury.<br />
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So, I took on <i>Ooh La La</i>, since it was the only Faces song that Ronnie Wood sang. I love Woody, of course, but vocally, he's no Rod Stewart. He's not even a Ronnie Lane, to be fair. Ah, I love 'em all though, and I always loved this song.<br />
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Actually, I shouldn't remotely have a go at Woody; I tried singing this song in the original key that he sang it in back in the day, and I couldn't remotely manage it. Came a cropper, actually, so I had to lower the key to a safer zone for me. Not only that, I messed up the words in the last verse when it came to singing it on the night. Well, it was supposed to be fun and impromptu like, but on reflection, it might have helped to rehearse it. Oh well, I wish I knew then, what I know now...etc.
Steve Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15371032044182275074noreply@blogger.com0