Fish and Chip Shop, Hoxton

 

God Is In The TV Review of The Chefs

Great review for The Chefs!
But how did they guess that Mary McCookerybook is not my real name? 😂

(it's been changed now)

https://www.godisinthetvzine.co.uk/2024/10/23/the-chefs-records-tea-the-best-of-the-chefs-and-lost-second-album-damaged-goods/ 

First Airplay from Showtunes from the Shadows: Three Cheers for Gideon Coe!

Three Cheers for Toytown was played by Gideon Coe last night!

Listen here: https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m0023w7r

And the album is here: https://helenmcc.bandcamp.com/album/showtunes-from-the-shadows

Time To Move On

 

Three Priests On The Underground

 

Just Arrived: Showtunes from the Shadows Puppet Badges

Buy one or a whole choir!

Spookily Hallowe'enish, not by intention.

https://helenmccookerybook.bandcamp.com/merch/showtunes-puppet-head-badge

Goat Does Not Want To Be Washed, Rothesay Country Show, Isle Of Bute

 

A Friendship of Bus Drivers, Blackpool

 

Stephen Appleby at Space Station Sixty Five

Tucked away in a yard off Kennington Lane is Space Station Sixty Five, an airy little gallery with exceedingly friendly staff. If, like me, you wondered what happened to Steven Appleby after apparently disappearing from the pages of The Guardian newspaper, then this is the exhibition for you. It's the exhibition for you even if you didn't wonder that. It's full of funny, warm and often slightly disturbing art that massages your sense of normality while quite comfortably straddling the boundaries between that, and what some people would regard as deviance.

There is so much to see and be inspired by here. Steven's line drawings seem to have been drawn with a pin: wiry black lines on a white page, sometimes with a smudge of colour flown in. Sometimes, they read from left to right, sometimes upside down and the right way up, sometimes tempting your eyes to dart about, as though it is you yourself having these thoughts and daydreams in your mind's eye. 

The text is part of the whole, playing with words and ideas (why didn't I think of that? Maybe I did, but Steven has articulated it in real life). Everything is challenged, just when it's looking really cosy. The work is sexy, sexual, real, and dreamy all at once, with a 'normality' in the representation of humans and a sense of humour underpinning the whole that makes you laugh your way into hidden areas of your soul.

Steven's been working as an illustrator, graphic novelist, musical collaborator and practically anything else creative you can think of. I bought his graphic novel after being riveted by just a quick glance inside it. There is much more here than just the line drawings, too. What a breath of fresh air he/she/they is. He doesn't care what you call her: what a wonderful reaction to the screaming bigots! 

It made my day seeing this. 

I messaged the Offsprogs straight away to go and see it. I'm going to go again (it's on till December), because it turned that frown upside down, especially because we went to the Regency Café for a late lunch afterwards. 

And the sun was shining too.

Official Release Day: the Chefs Compilation

Big thanks to Damaged Goods, Alison Wonderland, Lee at Yuba and not forgetting Claire Barratt whose photograph graces the front cover.

https://damagedgoods.co.uk/discography/the-chefs-records-tea-the-best-f-the-chefs-and-lost-second-album/

Man With Book And Golf Clubs On Tube

 

A Hi Five From The Barnet Bee

 

Twang Twang!

Four days to go!

https://damagedgoods.co.uk/discography/the-chefs-records-tea-the-best-f-the-chefs-and-lost-second-album/

The Cardboard Luthier Strikes!

 

Jesus Is Lord, Stratford, London

 

Gigs, Gigs, Gigs, Gigs, Gigs, Gigs, Gigs

Let's start with last Sunday at the 100 Club in Oxford Street, London, where The Irrepressibles were playing to promote their album Yo Homo!

Apologies in advance for my poor photography.

Regular readers will know that it's Jamie McDermot's encouragement that got me back performing music in 2005 as a an artist. I was his University lecturer, and I'd been going to see all the bands that the students had formed that year. The Irrepressibles were coming out on top of a very high standard of student music and songwriting, and I stopped him in the corridor to ask him when their next gig was. 'Why not come along and support us?' he asked. I could think of a million reasons why not, including the fact that I'd only ever played solo twice, it was more than 25 years since I'd played guitar on stage, and my guitar was in its case under my bed covered in a thick layer of dust. But I also felt that I wasn't a proper lecturer if I wasn't prepared to do exactly what the students did; I said yes, and did my first proper gig as a solo artist trembling with fear and playing the only three songs I could play without a band in front of students whose songwriting work I had marked in the past. Stress.

Going to see this latest incarnation of the band at the 100 Club in London was a no-brainer and to my great pleasure, Joe Davin from Brighton was playing bass with them too, joining a line-up of guitar, cello, viola, violin, grand piano, drums and Jamie also on guitar. Jamie has possibly one of the most beautiful male voices on earth (next to Kenji's) and always sends shivers down my spine when I hear him live. The band is multi-sexual as befits Jamie's philosophy, and the audience was a very safe space for gay people to feel comfortable. My favourite song was the one described as a country song, but with its pizzicato strings and harmonies it reminded me of the very best of 60s girl group songs. There was another, Destination, the first of the inevitable encore, that was a sure-fire hit in my estimation. They are on tour at the moment, a definite 'band of the moment to see and hear'. It's probably silly to say this but I feel massively proud of Jamie.

On Wednesday, I treated myself to seeing Joan as Policewoman at the Union Chapel in London. I love her early songs, and I've been listening to her more recent music on Riley and Coe's shows on BBC6. There was a very odd etiquette at the venue; people had reserved swathes of seats with their coats and bags, almost all of the 'good' seats, and it was embarrassing to wander around looking for somewhere to sit when it looked as though seats were empty. This was a level of passive aggression on a level with people reserving sun-loungers around the swimming pool at holiday destinations. I can understand the relaxed attitude of the staff because it is, of course, a church most of the time. But for someone like me going to a gig on my own, if felt hostile. Luckily I found a seat in front of a pillar, and was able to see most of it. Next to Joan's fantastic voice (at times like an extended dog-bark in timbre), she had a remarkable drummer. I watched him damp his crash cymbals so he didn't overpower the dynamic of the songs, and his flexible playing was a marvel to watch. In one song, he picked up on the rhythm and cadences of the main vocal and lyrical line in the song, and played with impeccable tempo throughout. This made listening to the music really relaxing (one of the bad things about doing a lot of recordings and the constant use of a metronome is that you become really conscious of variations in tempo when you both see music live and play it yourself, unfortunately. You become very tuned-in to unintended wobbles in timing). The whole level of professionalism was astonishing and gave the impression of ease, and a flow to the songs that was inspiring. There were of them on stage: Joan on vocals, piano, guitar and synth, and additional guitarist and the drummer both of whom sang, and they created a lush soundscape. At times they veered towards jazz, but then they returned to the off-the-wall melodies and rhythms that Joan is so well known for. I left with a smile in my heart. No photographs, I'm afraid- I was too far away.

Then this weekend started with The Wouldbegoods, Panic Pocket and me at The Water Rats in London's King's Cross, a gig organised by Bizarro Promotions who have a knack of matching up bands and music to maximise the pleasure for their punters. Being first on can be tough, but the sound engineer got me a good sound and enough people came early to make it feel well-attended right from the start. It goes to show how important the 'vibe' from the audience is to getting a good show from the artists they come to see; if people are listening and smiling, the whole feel of the gig goes up a few notches. 

Panic Pocket had a full all-female band this time around (they sometimes play as a duo), but their vocals were still to the forefront. They sing along in unison a lot of the time, which gives their songs a pleasingly bratty and assertive sound albeit presented in a very good-humoured and melodic way. It's something about the fact that they are really glamorous too, and have excellent songs. We were dancing, in our little corner. The photo is from the sound check.

This was the ideal venue for the Wouldbegoods in terms of sound. I've seen them too as a duo, and also as a full band at The Bush Hall and The Betsey Trotwood (great sound there, but oh so crammed!). Here, you could hear everything and although it was pretty full by the time they came on to the stage I could see Andy Warren playing bass (yay!), and hear everything else. Their songs are incomparable, really, spanning French pop influences, The Sweet, gentle indiepop, and their own 'world' of songwriting. This is pure quality, and I would be very jealous if I was not so admiring of their sound and style! Every time I see them I find more to hear in their songs, which is the best possible thing you can say about a band. They were simply wonderful, and the encore delivered yet more fabulous song-smithery. I hope this bill is repeated again some time: it felt completely energising to be part of it. The audience included members of The Dollymixture, The High Span, The Loft, and numerous other musicians (hello Kath Tait!) and producers (hello Ruth Tidmarsh!) of note who had come to drink in the magical silver songwriting moments of the evening. Three cheers for the song-writing underground, and all who sail in her!

And so to last night, yet another evening of good music at the Aces and Eights in Tufnell Park. Again, I was the first on, but I was lucky to be playing to a listening room with no background rumble of chat to contend with. Lester Square and Jo came along and Peter Tainsh, too. I felt brave enough to play The Ginger Line for only the second time (breaking in new songs is tough). The second band was The Alter Moderns, a Brazilian duo with a woman drummer/singer Ananda, and a riff-tastic male guitarist/singer, both dressed in red and incredibly energetic. Their music is deceptively intricate: you hear sheer power, then when you listen in to it, the parts are linked in to each other in a really sophisticated way. We made friends! Again, the photo is from the sound check.

The lovely Micko who organised it all was the headliner. In this incarnation of his band, the songs sound on the punky side of power-pop, which is apt considering he writes about subjects like noisy neighbours. My favourite song of theirs is the one about Joe Meek. Micko is a local to Holloway, and has a natural fascination with Meek and his ouevre. The Melletronics got the room dancing and played a well-deserved encore to a crowd of devoted fans. The photo shows them tuning up before they started to play.

Well, that was a full week of music listening and music playing. In between, I managed not only a couple of grim things (don't ask), but also a visit to my brother James's to re-record the guitar parts for 24 Hours and Food as we complete the four tracks for The Pop-Up Chefs E.P., and sent a track to Jem from Asbo Derek requesting him to write and record a miserable rap for the song I wrote about them being missed-out in a live review, The Band That Time Forgot.

Oh music, I love you.

Man Plays Cello On Train To Exeter

 

Biker at Ullapool Harbour 2023

 

Showtunes From The Shadows

Want to take a listen? https://helenmcc.bandcamp.com/album/showtunes-from-the-shadows

October/November Gigs

Erratum: the Betsey Trotwood gig is on Saturday 23rd November. The Big However confirmed for Bristol!

 

Woman, Child, Toy Monkey And Giant Giraffe On The Train

 

Woman Being Interviewed At May Day March, 2022

 

A Post With No Pictures

Ah blog, I haven't forgotten about you! I have been going to galleries (the Turner shortlist at Tate Britain, which I thought was brilliant despite the snooty reviews), and Come as You really Are, an intriguing collection of collections in East Croydon. While we were in the area we tried to find the Pollocks Toy Theatre pop-up shop in the Whitgift Centre, which alas is a parody of a dying shopping centre: sprawling, enormous and deserted. The shop was nowhere to be found, and nor was a map of the centre or an information person either. So instead we hopped on the train and went to see my brother and talked about food we didn't like, which was a 'curated conversation' of our own, and tremendous fun.

On Sunday, we went to Brighton and visited the Fisherman's Museum, which to my great glee had a few examples of Sunderland Ware without saying what it was. The Sunderland Ware said what it was though: 'Wearside Bridge'. It would appear that even museums are telling lies these days. I remember at one of the Universities where I worked, the course leader was so untruthful and I inadvertently caught him out so frequently, that he started each sentence with 'I'm not lying, Helen...'.

Brighton was blustery and alternately sunny and grey with lots of fresh air, a terrifyingly volatile-looking multicoloured sea, and a new one-pound charge to get on the pier ('It's so cheap, nobody will mind'). What an astonishingly mean-spirited mini-charge! There was nothing new on the pier that justified the charge, and we looked longingly over at the skeleton of the West Pier whose rueful structure said 'Capitalism will do this to you too, Palace Pier!'. How strange of the council to allow an observation pole to be built that already looks tatty, when they could have built a new West Pier complete with conservation centre, breeding programme for sea birds, and arts centre! Now there's something that might have been worth a quid. Anyway I'm being a bit pensioner about that, aren't I?

Really I meant to write about my records. The Chefs vinyl album will be out on the 18th of October, and my solo album will be out in November. It's all gone off to be manufactured, and it sounds absolutely amazing even to my hyper-critical ears. I will have to organise some sort of launch and I've been scoping out venues for that, but there are a few other things to sort out first. Life has flung a few lemons my way recently and also the way of some of my friends and relatives; in fact, going back to food conversations, I think I prefer to say hardboiled eggs because I hate them, and I do like lemons. So life has thrown a few hardboiled eggs across my path, and I'm gingerly picking my way through them because to step on one would release the most horrendous sulphurous stink.

Roll on record release days!

Man Feeds Pigeon and Other Birds In Park In Reading

 

Rail Workers Ascend Escalator At Tube Station

 

Sad Boy Style

 

Jonny Hannah at Greenside Primary School

I first came into contact with Jonny when I contributed some stories about Wylam to his Northumberland Folk project a few years ago; later, Offsprog One and me went to an exhibition of some of the work he made for that project in Hexham.

Jonny was doing a talk on Bawden, Ravilious and an Outsiders View of Englishness at Greenside School in west London. there was also a print fair, and guided tours of the school (designed by Goldfinger, with a mural by Gordon Cullen) as part of the Open House Festival.

It was the talk wot did it though-plus the opportunity to say hello to Jonny.

The tiny school hall was packed with all sorts of interesting stalls, including a Pollocks Toy Museum one, and another where you could get large type set and printed while you waited. We had a quick tea'n'cake, talked to Pollocks man who was eating his packed lunch out of a Tupperware box, relieved ourselves in the miniature and authentically grubby children's toilets, then went to the Year 6 classroom for Jonny's talk.

Blow me, I was sitting next to Emerald's mum, Sally. It was lovely to see her again. 

The talk was entertaining and gently funny. Born and raised in Dunfermline, he talked us through his fascination with Englishness with an accompanying slideshow. Thankfully, Only Fools and Horses wasn't on his list, but the Kinks were, and so was George Orwell. Born in 1971, Jonny is too young to suffer from good-old-days-ism, which was a relief. 

There were some graphic design classics that had been an obvious influence on his illustration/type style. He has contributed a piece to an Edward Bawden exhibition in Bedford, which looks really good and which I must go to. He raised a laugh with his story of taking a model of a six-foot plywood cutout cat in a boxing ring up to the exhibition on the train.

Afterwards, I bought the 12" EP by his band The Postmen from his wife Sharon, who is also an illustrator. Just as we left, who should we bump into but the creative duo behind the Wouldbegoods in the school playground!

It was all so much better that sitting at home watching repeats on the telly, believe me. The little school was a weird gem of the west and even the giant raindrops that accompanied us on the way home were a magical addition to the day.

Why Not Make Your Own Record?

 

The Chefs Album Now Available To Pre-Order

Here: https://shop.damagedgoods.co.uk/

Matthew's Fundraiser

On the way back from Canterbury, I met a group of chaps who were getting ready to run to raise money for Sheffield Orthopaedic Hospital. Here are two of them, including Matthew who set up the charity. 

The donation page is here:

https://www.justgiving.com/page/matthew-lawrence-1724484145071?

Hastings, Barnaby's Lounge: to be rescheduled soon!

Gig cancelled due to unforeseen circumstances: will be rescheduled soon!

Playing With Picturebox At Canterbury Arts Lab Tonight

They are great- I love their songs.

This will be a relaxed night with tea and biscuits, please bring real money to make a donation to the musicians.

Scary Rabbit On Rubbish Truck

 

Bored Bulldog Waiting

 

The Chefs Album In My Hands!

 Out on 18th October

Leith Depot With David Lance Callahan And Daren Drummer

Photo filched from Facebook, by Andrew Tully

I got to Edinburgh mid-afternoon, checked in, and went for an all-day breakfast in the Royal Mile. As I sat outside the caff, I witnessed a young couple filming themselves using an obedient drone that whined like a mosquito. I hope the idea doesn't take off (ha ha!). Can you imagine the low-sky overcrowding, the collisions, the arguments, the court cases? Bring on the anti-drone kestrels that I understand have ruined the attempts to introduce drones for general purposes in The Netherlands!

The Leith Depot was rescued from development by a furious public campaign a few years ago, and three cheers for that. The anonymous beige slab buildings run out halfway down Leith Walk, where a human-sized parade of bars and shops takes over. There it was, still there, only this time the music venue had moved downstairs. I had a nice chat to the Onion Cellar crew, the promoters, before David and Daren turned up for their sound check. During that I went for a walk and found Argonaut Books just down the road, where I had a browse for half an hour. I could have spent a lot longer there, but had to go back before doors opened for my own sound check. At open doors, in came Alan McDowall (one time guitarist with So You Think You're A Cowboy), Neil Cooper the music blogger of note, Dot Allan the music tech lecturer and piano star, and Liz Tainsh, Refugee benefit organiser and dog walker extraordinaire. Pals! We caught up a bit before I went on stage. There weren't a huge amount of tickets sold, so Nicola, one of the promoters, had invited her son and a group of twenty-somethings to come along. They seemed to really like my stuff (well, so they said afterwards) and sang along lustily with everyone else when the time came. I even managed to play Things Like This, despite the song fighting back at every opportunity. Hooray for the youth of today, and their willingness to listen to new music from old people!

David and Daren played a fine, tight set that included a lot of the stuff from David's new album. They are very loud; the sound engineer came through the crowd and handed me a pair of earplugs, which was very considerate of him. I have done quite a lot of support gigs for them and now I know their songs pretty well; this was a successful night for them too. Afterwards, and after saying a quick video hello to Jerry Thackeray on someone's phone and a bit more chatting, it was time to wait for the number seven bus in the drizzle. Another nice gig in the bag... which reminds me: someone tried to steal from the back of my guitar bag and left it unzipped. Obviously my set lists and guitar lead were not appealing. But Edinburgh has a bit of an edge these days that it didn't have before. What a pity.

The hostel that I spent the night in was extraordinary: spotlessly clean, but unfortunately opposite an open-air nightclub that pumped loud bass-driven music into the humid air until 2 a.m., complete with raucously-singing punters. The music thundered through the open windows and bashed me on the head. Fellow guests checked their phones regularly, the random lights illuminating our insomnia. The last guest to arrive was sleeping on the upper deck of my own bunk. She clumped up the ladder and dropped a loud thing on the floor that she had to thump back down to find. The sheets on the bed were wonderfully fresh and crisp, however. I 'slept' cuddled up to my guitar with the sleeve of my jacket over my eyes to keep out the light, waking at 6.30 and deciding to go for a shower. It was shockingly, icy cold. I did not gasp, because I'm 'ard.

Big thanks to the Onion Cellar Presents for their support of live music in Edinburgh!

So that's about it: I'm home now. 

But I didn't tell you about the French family on the way up in the train who discussed in the French language making me move seats so they could all sit together. Maman put on her best fake, charming smile to ask me but I'd wedged myself into the corner with my guitar, my breakfast and my book so said 'no'. It turned out that the seat was actually for their dog! I eavesdropped for the rest of the journey. Funny how they assumed that nobody could understand them. To add insult to injury, they opened a box of hardboiled eggs to eat for lunch and the ghastly pong filled the whole carriage.

Oh the adventures, the adventures!

Margaret Glaspy At St Pancras Old Church

Several months ago, I heard a session by Margaret Glaspy on the Riley and Coe radio show on BBC6. 

I have been drawing along to their show almost since the beginning of the year, escaping from television wallpaper that doesn't do anything for my heart and soul. I've got to know their banter, and got to know their musical taste, both solo and together.

One of the pleasures of their show is the different calibres of vocalist, all of them authentic-sounding and unique. Of course they are aware of this, but what a pleasure it is to hear Blossom Dearie, Joan as Policewoman, Amy Rigby, Laetitia Sadier, Pom Poko and La Luz, all with minimally processed voices and maximum authenticity.

Margaret Glaspy belongs in the same category of real singers, threatening almost to yodel but never getting there, always landing perfectly on pitch whether whispering or giving it full throttle, with the poetry of her lyrics slicing through the aesthetic beauty of her vocal timber, forcing you to double-listen.

It was a no brainer. Tickets for last night's gig were the first of many that I have bought as I listen to the Radio 6 show and as almost always, I travelled solo so that I could listen properly and in peace.

St Pancras Old Church is a very special venue. I've been there a lot, and despite its character it shapes itself to the sound of whoever is playing. The statues, the carvings, the striking clock, the mystical shadows... in this case the shape was that of Nick Hornby, who was the support act. 

He has been writing a musical with Margaret, and he read us a short story from a rather incongruous iPad, a story about a woman who moves from US neighbourhood to US neighbourhood sharing enlightenment with the local teenagers, until they quite simply grow out of her, at which point she stages a death ritual and moves on. It was an unusual support act which held its own because of the good storytelling, but I kind of hope it doesn't catch on. Everyone in the audience loved the story, but what would happen if you had a bad storyteller? It chills me just to think of it, trapped there on a wooden seat like at school...

Don't even go there; go back to the Church, where Margaret is approaching the microphone with a perfectly gorgeous parlour guitar. She is confident and calm, occasionally telling micro-stories about gigs she's played, but mostly just playing and singing. Live, that voice is a lot mellower in real life than on her records most of the time, though occasionally she throws caution to the wind and rasps and howls, yet never settling in the sine-wave area that can make Joni Mitchell's singing so unsettling. Confident as a guitarist too, I have to resist working out her chords because I'm an audience member tonight. I'm here to listen and enjoy, and so is the rest of the audience, who are occasionally invited to sing along. At that point I'm a stranger, although I do recognise a lot of her material. 

Please don't hum along in every song, man in the front! Someone must have nudged him: he's stopped. This is a lovely, cathartic evening. It is also inspirational, and it wakes a creative spark in me completely unexpectedly. I have to leave early, but I take the warmth and originality of the evening home with me, along with a postcard of the church signed in advance by Margaret, given to me by the doorman. 

Now there is an artist who cares.

Sometimes, a night out leaves a very meaningful impression. What a pleasure it is to experience an artist who is comfortable in their own skin, who has found their audience and found their level, and who can mesmerise an audience into (almost) total silence and create such an atmosphere of bonhomie!

Roll on live music, roll on forever with the musician/magicians who transport us away from our troubles and away from the harshness of real life. Three cheers for odd little venues that people want to go to, to sit on hard wooden seats with people they don't know, united in listening to a live performance that will never be repeated again in exactly the same way. The little mistake, the weather, the steeple bell striking ten halfway through a song as the church joins in with the show. 

Hallelujah!

Leith Depot, Edinburgh Supporting David Lance Callahan, Friday

Ticket link:

https://www.eventim-light.com/uk/a/656f3b4c9ccc0913cb57ba4f/e/66508a7b62f6e943bb511208?lang=en