Nine Feet Underground

I'm reading this book, 'Good Night and Good Riddance', about the influence John Peel and his radio shows had on music and cultural life for over 35 years.  It's a great book that I'd thoroughly recommend and, despite the book's subtitle, it's no hagiography, and casts a critical eye at times, even though, on balance (and I'm up to 1979), it pretty much confirms what fans, including myself, thought of him and his maverick musical taste. This post, however, is not a book review - that'll appear on goodreads after I finish it - it's about a question that gets raised in the book when the story reaches the mid-1970s.   [Oh, and in case the title of this post misled anyone, this is not going to be about the Midlands grebo band, affectionately referred to as PWEI aka Pop Will Eat Itself: this is not the article you are looking for.] My question - and it's not posed as a question in the book - concerns the state of rock music around ...

Nostalgia has featured a lot in my life lately - a 40th anniversary school reunion next year is generating lots of social media chatter with associated memories and Mr and Mrs 9Feet Underground have been enjoying a 22nd wedding anniversary - all of which has prompted me to write this piece on music and nostalgia. Let's get straight to the point: when it comes to music, in general, I'm not keen on nostalgia.  Let me expand on that.  I don't mean that I don't listen to any music that was written / recorded / released in the past. Far from it.  To me "new music" just means music I've not heard before, whether it was recorded yesterday or before I surfaced, screaming, onto this planet.  The key thing is to not only be open to new music but to actively seek it out; I'm not interested in the view that all the good music was made in the sixties, seventies, eighties, or whatever period happens to coincide with the speaker’s youth. There always has been go...

Today would have been John Peel's 76th birthday were it not for his untimely death in 2004.  As a small note of respect for the man who introduced me to more new and exciting music than any other person, here's a musical tribute. I'm not 100% certain whether it was John Peel or Alan "Fluff" Freeman who first brought Captain Beefheart to my attention.  If it was Alan Freeman, then the first track I heard would have been 'Big-Eyed Beans From Venus' - I know I heard him play it. If it was Peel, then I really have no idea - he played so many of  Either way John  Peel remained a huge fan of the man, regularly including tracks in  his radio shows and was the person who first brought Captain Beefheart and The Magic Band to the UK This is one of my favourite Beefheart tracks: Happy Birthday John. Gone but not forgotten.

An article published by  Uncut magazine suggests that people cease to take an active interest in new music once they hit their mid-thirties.  I certainly know people whose musical taste has frozen: they only listen to music from the sixties, or the seventies, or the eighties or perhaps the nineties.  Typically the era in question coincides with the years when they were in their teens or twenties. The Uncut article is a summary of research into the listening habits of US Spotify users published in an article titled ‘ “Music was better back then”: When do westop keeping up with popular music? ’ . Putting to one side the source and coverage of the data used, for me the premise is a flawed one.  My approach to music is more aligned to that of John Peel who said: “People do find it curious that a chap of my age likes the things that I like but I do feel that it's one of those situations where everyone's out of step except our John, because in e...

The 25th October 2014 marks a decade since John Peel died of heart attack, at the age of 65, whilst on a working holiday in Peru.  I first heard of his death on that day on my way back home from Leeds.  When I got off the train at Kings Cross I had to walk to the tube station via the street (there were building works going on) and on my way I passed some 'Metro' stands and the headline caught my eye, so I picked up a copy and read the bad news.  A lot of words have already been written this month about John, his legacy and what he meant to many of those who met and worked with him.   I didn't ever meet John though did see him near Broadcasting House one evening in the 1990's - just didn't have the bottle to say hello. Apart from having influenced and broadened my musical horizons for more than 30 years – from teenager to father of three – he also introduced to some of the artists and bands I still love today.  This post i...