Helen McCookerybook

Thursday, April 30, 2026

Also

A few years ago, Joly McFie from Better Badges (I used to work for them back in the day) got in touch with me because he thought I should offer this song to Hollie. I did, and she was very nice about it but pointed out that she already had a song-writing team to collaborate with.

A near miss! Perhaps I should change my name to 'Near Miss Helen' instead of Dr Helen.

Now there's a thought.

https://soundcloud.com/mccookerybook/3-steal-you-away

Hollie Cook at The Jazz Café

Hollie used to sing with the New Slits; she was part of Ari's musical collective, and lived the surreal onstage fun of that band with a hundred percent commitment. It was wonderful to hear her own music being played by Riley and Coe on their BBC6 show, and I bought her vinyl album straight away.

Alas, her next gig was in the deep south of London- buses and unreliable train services from the cold north meant that it looked like a dodgy journey and I didn't go. How wonderful to see her at the Jazz Caff, a mere stone's throw down the road.

I went stupidly early but that gave me a chance to listen to the reggae tracks being played beforehand. What fantastic production! Some of the music was so old-skool you could hear where the volume knobs on the mixing desk had been physically turned up and down to control the dynamics of the guitar-playing. The endless appeal of reggae is the way the instruments talk to each other across space; rather than putting together an instrumental arrangement and mixing it afterwards, it's almost as though the space is respected first, and then the music appears as an afterthought, assembled around the space to show off its beauty.

I was Shazzaming like crazy, although I did recognise Carlton And His Shoes. There's something about the ultra-diction in the way he sings, and also the way the music is so casual it sounds as though it's almost falling apart: I wonder if there are any albums of their stuff. As the playlist moved on to Lover's Rock, it was apparent that the production values are completely different in the Jamaican versions of that music genre (although not the English tracks produced by Dennis Bovell, for instance). The instrumentation is much more clustered-together, and in the case of Susan Cadogan's Hurts So Good, the sound is positively mushy. It was Pete Waterman who 'broke' Hurts So Good, thus kick-starting his career.

There was one track played earlier on where the horn section was so woefully out of tune with the rest of the track that I looked at the DJ as though he could have done something about it, before realising that of course, he couldn't!

In itself, the first part of the evening was very listenable; those roots reggae tracks are so beautifully sonically crafted, although in more than a few of them women don't get off lightly. Awful beings, aren't we?

Not Hollie, though! As soon as she came on to the stage, she brought her own atmosphere and her own aesthetic to the evening. As her set progressed, the appeal of her singing voice became more and more apparent. She has that rare thing: an utterly unaffected delivery. No vocal fry (urgh, I hate it!), no vibrato, no swoopings or cooing 'sexy' breathiness (those copious music degrees stuffed with ancient jazz fellers have a lot to answer for). She sounds like herself: pitch-perfect, fresh and confident.

Being a long-term fan of Lovers' Rock singers like Carroll Thompson and Janet Kay (whose voices I also love) could make me hyper-critical of a new singer on the block, but she really is a fabulous performer. I was trying to think of a way to describe her vocal timbre, and all I could think of is that it's the sound of sunshine. Her voice works an instrument that fits perfectly into the very well-rehearsed reggae band she has. The band is notably good, especially the backing vocals performed in perfect falsettos by the keyboard player and the guitarist. The only other man who I've seen do this so perfectly and unobtrusively is Rachel Love's keyboard player from her band the Loveables. Like his, their vocal tones were gentle, neat and completely in tune. The trombone player was also very good (trombones are definitely having a moment- Laetitia Sadier was playing one with Stereolab a couple of months ago). A well-played trombone is like a friend who exaggerates: over perky at times, over lachrymose at others. It was nice that he didn't dominate the music; he was essential to the sound but he didn't overplay.

All I can say is- buy the record! The only thing I didn't like was the packedness of the venue and it's inevitable braying young men who thought what they had to say in loud hooting voices was more important than the music. Some of them also thought pushing through the crowd with hands full of drinks was what the evening was all about. It wasn't. Stay at home next time.

What else? Hollie's parents were there in the scrum listening intently, and I think I spotted Paul Weller, although it could have been his doppelganger, Saul.

A lot of female singers could learn from Hollie's complete unaffectedness. She smiles, she is charming, but she is also guileless. It's probably a blessing that she isn't as famous as she should be. Voices like hers are extremely rare, and it felt like a complete privilege to be able to listen to her at such close quarters. Rock royalty in the making!

Wednesday, April 29, 2026

Interview with Israel Sanchez Fuster, from Valencia

https://www.ivoox.com/en/cactus-radiozine-27-abril-2026-helen-mccookerybook-audios-mp3_rf_172501927_1.html

Sour Things. A Bored Musician Writes.

I've stopped recording for a bit. I am thinking instead; all the dross that would have been passing through my mind while I was concentrating on playing my guitar has surfaced, and is taxing my thoughts.

There are two sour things that people like; I'm not sure which is which, but they do both begin with the letter 'K': kimchi and kefir.

I don't even like yogurt (what's the difference between yogurt and sour milk?) but I don't mind some sour things. It's just that these two sour things beginning with 'K' are relatively new, and seem to exist in order to encourage us to feel as though we are one of the in-crowd.

A neighbour gave me a tumbler of the milk-based K-thing, which was apparently a culture. She was very good about the fact that I didn't like it, actually. But why would I want to put sour milk in the fridge? I know there are things about gut health, but if you don't eat horrible food, surely your gut will be healthy anyway without putting sour things into it.

The other thing is a cabbagey thing which I had once as part of a vegan meal. Some vegan food is lovely, but this particular meal felt like a punishment. Round and round the plate I went, trying to find something that wasn't tart. I was starving. I tried combos of one thing and another: maybe this plus that would equal 'nice to eat'. But nothing worked.

Luckily, these things go out of fashion fairly quickly. I'm waiting for sourdough bread to go out of fashion too. It doesn't seem possible to buy anything else at the moment. I don't mind it sometimes, but it is a bit like eating a nylon bath sponge with a leather crust; an interesting experience, but not quite as nice as a good stodgy malted granary that sheds seeds all over the kitchen.

Speaking of which, I've just found a small ant on my nose.

A Day Of The Opposite

Yesterday I started recording in the morning, and somehow missed the time I was supposed to go swimming. I belatedly went on my way; it was cold and grey, and despite knowing that the pool would be nice and empty because other people would be put off by the weather too, I turned back and resumed what I was doing.

One of the guitar parts was so bloody difficult it was causing me loads of stress; I still haven't got it right, but that's because it's a new way of playing and my fingers are annoyed with me for introducing something they're unfamiliar with.

For most of the rest of the day, I felt terrible because I hadn't done the weekly swim, but at the mid-afternoon point my recording energy was exhausted, and I listened back to what I'd done.

Instead of a waste of time, the day had been surprisingly productive. When you have to drive yourself, it's difficult to pitch the pressure at the correct level. The deep concentration worked, and despite the clumsy playing and some 'off' lyrics, there is plenty to work with.

I feel that this particular set of songs has been inside me for years. Most things that I write have an element of introspection in them, even the songs that seem casual, but these songs say things that have been buried for a very long time, and make sense of a lot of other parts of my life. I'm in them, but also watching them from a vantage point.

Next, lots of guitar part practising to get the feels right- and lots of walking and thinking to get the words right. In the end the day turned out to be the opposite of what I'd felt it was.

Tuesday, April 28, 2026

Ari, Unfinished

Ears Rest

Gah! Gah! Command save!

I've got Driving Test-itis this morning. I failed four tests before understanding that I was fine until I thought 'I haven't made my mistake yet' and then made my mistake and failed. At the fifth one, I tricked my brain and managed to pass, despite the fact that I was nine months pregnant with Offsprog Two.

I've been recording guitar, and making a mistake every time I've been waiting for a mistake.

I've realised that what I hate about studios is constantly making mistakes in front of the engineer, who then gets further and further into the realms of passive-aggressive 'patience', which of course makes the playing get even worse.

Remedy? You have to know what you're doing before you get there.

At the kitchen table, I've been trying to play something that I can't play well enough yet, and expecting it to record well. Being your own engineer, you are able to blame yourself thoroughly for all this.

The other important thing is that the more you play something, the better the feel is. Even when I've played it correctly (I have), the feel is wooden and clumpy. Oh, I still have such a lot to learn, old thing that I am!