Sunday, October 29, 2023

Clearcut comes to the Cinematheque: UPDATE ON MERCH

UPDATE:

Severin films will be present and selling merch at the Friday screening of Clearcut. The folk horror box, All the Haunts Be Ours: A Compendium of Folk Horror, which packs 19 feature films (including Clearcut) and countless extras, will be available for $150. It starts on Severin's website at $249 US, which is already a discounted price, so $150 is a pretty amazing deal (see my interview with Severin's Kier-la Janisse about it, linked below; I believe she will be handling the merch table herself...).

If you already have the Severin box, or are on a budget, standalone blu-rays of Clearcut will be $20 (again, packed with extras). That will also be the price of Kier-la's authoritative documentary on folk horror, Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched, also on the box, but a must-see. Barring some impossibly lucky thrift store encounter, you will not find physical media of these films for less. Ample links below, and again, the merch table will be present on the Friday, November 3rd screening only. 


End update! As I had written in the initial post, I am so glad that Clearcut is getting its day. It couldn't be more timely. If you have somehow missed it, the film is a potent, confrontational, violently political survival horror film, shot on location in temporal and geographical proximity to the Oka crisis, about how it is not enough just to have the right liberal opinions about Indigenous issues; you also have to DO something. There's also, of course, a spiritual/ folk horror element to the film, which enriches it further and got the film included in Kier-la Janisse's superb documentary, Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched (discussed here). The first-ever official North American digital release of the film was on the epochal Severin All the Haunts Be Ours box set. Picked by many as the standout film in the box, it is now subject to a standalone blu-ray edition with all the extras included. 

As Alienated in Vancouver followers know, I've been advocating for the release of this film for a very long time now, starting in about 2012, but I have run out of new ways to plug it; I am very grateful that Severin made a long-wished-for prayer of mine come true, and that I got to be involved in it (thanks, Kier-la!).  Here's a big blogpiece I did with tons of screengrabs from the film, about my involvement; there's also Adrian Mack interviewing me about the last theatrical screening in town, back in 2015, which I organized and hosted, and which article was essential to Kier-la's reaching out to me (she didn't realize at the time that I would have a commentary track with director Ryszard Bugajski, pictured below, on offer). Whatever more I can say about the film, I will be saying in front of the November 3rd screening, one of three at the Cinematheque in November (our second attempt to present the film, note, after the previously-scheduled one, back in 2019, got cancelled due to a certain pandemic).

Clearcut director Ryszard Bugajski

Though I sure am glad it happened, note that that 2015 screening was off a considerably weaker source  than what the Cinematheque will be presenting. There *IS* a surviving film element in Toronto -- one of two prints known to exist, the other being in Poland -- but believing they had the only surviving print, the TIFFpeople were unprepared to share it with us. I can understand that, but with no choice, at the Vancity Theatre in 2015, we played a German DVD prepared from the Polish print (the director's own 35mm copy, also impractical to ship). That German DVD was the only way to see the film at the time that wasn't just a rip off the shitty-looking pan-and-scan VHS. It looks okay, but is very dark, with lots of visual artifacts and the contrast set way too high. It looks WAYYYY the hell better as presented by Severin; we'll be screening, at the Cinematheque, their new restoration based on a 4K scan of the same print of the film (Bugajski's own). It looks beautiful. If you've only ever seen the film as a bootleg or on Youtube, which was basically your easiest option prior to Severin's involvement, trust me, the widescreen restoration is a vast improvement. This is a very good-looking film! 

Of course, people who really want to prepare for the screening, who want to see it in the context of Bugajski's whole career, which is discussed on one of the commentary tracks for the blu, might also find The Interrogation, his previous feature, quite interesting; that came out on a nice region-free blu through Second Run this past year (there's a not-bad version of that film on Youtube, note). It's an angry anticommunist film with a feminist aspect, very different from Clearcut, but very powerful. Neither film is for the fainthearted; both include scenes of torture. Neither one is gratuitous in that regard, however, or exploitive. Bugajski (who died in 2019) was very concerned as a filmmaker with our inhumanity to each other, which also comes up in the features he made after he repatriated to Poland, like The Closed Circuit, General Nil and Blindness (none of which are available in North America, alas).  

For the Cinematheque screenings on November 3rd, note that besides the Severin merchtable (see above), Shane Harvey, the composer who scored Clearcut and several of Bugajski's later films, will also be on hand to answer questions; I will be there too. Do not miss this film -- even if you can't be there on the 3rd, you have two more chances thereafter. It's essential, and screens far too infrequently.

RIP, Ryszard! (You would be very happy). 

Halloween at LanaLou's: The Mants, Sugarwash, Rocket #9, plus a Nov. 10th gig tip

I went to LanaLou's last night to put up a couple of John Otway posters and to check out Ed Hurrell's other other band (MeBats/ Stab'em, the Lulu's, Rocket #9: what am I missing, Ed?). And of course, I wanted to see the Mants. I had sent the Mants some questions, because I can talk ant-themed horror movies any day, but they didn't have time to get to them; between their busy lives and mine, it was not to happen. Seriously, Mants, I will do something the NEXT time you play Vancouver! 

I liked the Mants, and shot video of their first two songs, but I also was glad to say hi to Ed Hurrell again. I like Ed! I am glad that the Lulu's are going to play again (with MeBats and Crummy) on November 10th (at the Princeton). I saw the LuLus once with Tony Lee on drums; their actual drummer was ill that night, but apparently is back in the saddle and bringing a real Moe Tucker vibe to the band, Ed says, by which I don't think he means she's going to post cranky "Republican nutbar" stuff on social media (I tried following Moe Tucker on Facebook for awhile during COVID. I love Moe, but that's some crazy shit she was posting. You can sorta see the germ of it in some of her later solo stuff. That is still a great goddamn album, tho', as is Life in Exile After Abdication). 

But I digress. Rocket #9 (I wonder if people read that as "Rocket Hashtag Nine" now?), who bill themselves as "minimalist garage rock," are a fair bit less primitive than I expected -- they were actually pretty musically satisfying, in a straight-up rock kinda way, as Adam (my gig buddy, seen on the left margin below) observed. I enjoyed Ed's basslines, but it turns out that the guitars are the real draw for this band. I shot some vid there too. Matching NASA outfits; fun! 


Of course, it didn't hurt the night that Lana's was full of people in costumes, including the members of Sugarwash, an Edmonton-I-think trio who played snotty punky rock with a grungy riot grrrl vibe. I am not feeling very grungy these days, truth be known, and I kinda feel weirdly Daddish when watching punks in their 20s, now (since I'm 55: "aww, look at the kids havin' fun"), but Sugarwash had great stage presence, fun costumes, and they were funny and rude as hell. At one point, joking about their name, they riffed on actually not being washed, unless golden showers counted, or something along those lines. The drummer seemed the rudest and crudest of them, so of course was my favourite member (she should be aware, tho', that any reference the concept of Daddy Issues will just make everyone think of Betty Bathory's band, who also played last night, which is presumably why LanaLou's wasn't so full!). 

Sugarwash also put a post on Facebook that was kinda fun, riffing on their costumes: 

Shot some vid there, too. I have no great insights into the music that was played, but LanaLou's has a fun community vibe and I enjoy everything I go to there. They kinda need a dessert menu and I was sad to discover they were out of Guinness, because I just really did not feel like de-alcoholized Beck's (which is what I ended up with). Might I suggest Phillips Iota? The Rickshaw is stocking it. The Princeton is stocking it. It kicks Beck's ass. 

The poutine was damn good, though, as always! 

Oh, I also quite enjoyed opener MaNic's quickly-strummed cover of "Hurt" and his other songs that touched on addiction and such, but I haven't much to say and I didn't get a good photo. As for the audience, it was fun to see Cam of the Imperial and the Bad Beats and Adam Payne (who is in Bishop's Green) out for the night. Didn't get a photo there, either. But here's Ed!

And here's Ed's next big gig! (Hey, Ed -- in terms of covering somewhat later Lou, I think the Lulu's would knock this one out of the park, no? Or what about "Warrior King" or, HELL yes, "Hooky Wooky?" Man, that would make me happy. It's even more fun when you realize that the girl he's singing to is Laurie Anderson.)

Anyhoo, see some of you at LanaLou's next Saturday, I hope, for the John Otway event. I see that tickets for that are listed as "going fast." Act now or miss out! (I AM on the list for that, right?).  

(Right?)

Saturday, October 28, 2023

John Otway interview: "Rock'n Roll's Greatest Failure" on URGH!, Pete Townshend, "Cheryl's Going Home," his ambidextrous guitar, and his second full gig in Vancouver since 1979!


John Otway and a cute female fan at Toby's Open Mic

When UK cult musician John Otway performed last winter as part of brief shock-and-awe appearance at an open mic at Toby's Social Pub in North Vancouver, press materials that were circulating said that he had played over 5000 gigs. Before he took the stage, we were chatting, and I asked, "So will this count towards that list?" He grinned mischievously and said, "I'll tell you after."

Interviewing him earlier this month, I bring the question up again: had it counted? "I'll have to look on my spreadsheet to see if I've added it." How many shows are we up to now, anyhow? "Last year was my 5000th gig," Otway reports,  "and there's been about 120 since, so we're up to 5,120." (There have been more since).

So when did Otway actually start counting gigs? He used to entertain his school chums at a very young age, we gather, but Otway doesn't include on his official lists "the times when I did an odd song. But I had decided I would have a concert, a whole show of my own, in the drama room at my school. I've still got a recording of it. It's quite nice, because you can see just how much I haven't improved! I invited all these first-year girls that I sort of liked, that got to be Otway fans, to come to the show, and you can hear them screaming all the way through it..." 

That's where the spreadsheet starts. Otway was 18 for that show, so that was in 1970. 

That first official show consisted mostly of covers, but "there is one Otway song in there" ("Enjoy, It Just Won't Last," which -- again, if I understand correctly -- is the first song Otway ever wrote). "All the rest are covers, things like 'If I Were a Carpenter,' 'House of the Rising Sun,' a couple of Bob Dylan things."

Gig or not, some 5000+ shows later, the North Van four-song open mic appearance (viewable online here and here) was arranged by uber-fan Ian McClelland, who follows the exuberant first-gen punk online. (Actually, Otway's repertoire is a bit more complex than just punk, also including, with the occasional help of Wild Willy Barrettearnest folkie ballads, disco spoofs, a BTO cover, and at least one very silly version of a Beatles song, but let's call him a first-gen punk for now, even though he predates punk rock by some margin, more on which below). McClelland learned Otway would be passing through Vancouver en route to a tour of New Zealand and Australia, and found a way to for him to make a brief public appearance. Otway told Toronto promoter Gary Topp, of long association with Otway, that it would be happening; Topp in turn informed Al Mader (a big fan of Otway's, and on the bill next Saturday). Al called me; I let other people know, and Otway ended up with a small but devoted cheering section, who no doubt confused the hell out of the Toby's regulars: "Who the hell is this guy? What's with the entourage?" 

One of the people in the audience that night was Zulu Records' Grant McDonagh, who had seen Otway perform in Vancouver on July 27th, 1979, opening for Pere Ubu at a venue in Robson Square on his first North American tour. I made a point to introduce McDonagh to Otway, which encounter both men remember: "It was great that people turned up that had seen me all those years ago. I've always had very fond memories of Vancouver, based on how well we were received the first time we played there."

That first Vancouver gig actually was a standout show from that 12-or-so date tour, backing Ubu. "That was with a guitarist called Ollie Halsall. It was one of those wonderful performances... I was walking onstage and tripped up and did a pratfall, basically, and got this huge applause from the audience." *(Otway's theatrics are usually deliberate but sometimes accidents work in his favour, too). "We actually stormed that gig, so I've got a really strong memory of it, and I thought, on the Pere Ubu tour, it was going to be brilliant, now; but the next gig was San Francisco, and we went on to do our first set, and as we started the show, there was this cry of, 'Get the phony English accents!' from the audience. They had tomato ketchup sachets, and they started throwing them onstage, so we walked offstage covered in what looked like a great deal of blood. It was quite funny, [to go from] the glory of Vancouver to the ignominy of San Francisco."

Otway also recalls the shooting of his live performance of "Cheryl's Going Home," which appeared in the concert anthology URGH!: A Music War, alongside footage of the Cramps, the Dead Kennedys, XTC, John Cooper Clarke, and many other artists active at that time. "I think we'd just come off an American and Canadian tour" (but not the same one as that first Vancouver show; this time, for his second venture onto the continent, Otway had brought a full band, which you see in the homecoming footage). "It's an interesting film, because the director just thought he'd pick a lot of acts that were current at the time and make a movie out of it." The Otway clip was shot at Portsmouth Polytechnic, in England. "They were choosing a song from each band, so we did a few numbers and that that's the one they chose." 


For a few of those who made it out to Toby's, URGH! had been their introduction to Otway's body of work, for some the sole representation of his oeuvre. I had picked up his two Canadian anthologies, Deep Thought and I Did It Otway (the cover of which shows him playing a vacuum cleaner, but note, this is no Eugene-Chadbourne-style homemade instrument, no electric rake; it's just a gag for the picture). So I knew there was more than that one song to his repertoire, as befits someone with a 50+ year career.  


But "Cheryl's Going Home" is, in fact, a cover. It was still appropriate, Otway says, for the filmmakers to pick it, because of an episode a few years before on the British music show The Old Grey Whistle Test, which helped make it a signature piece.  "It was the reason I became famous in the UK, because" -- running about the stage and leaping in the air, as Otway is prone to do -- "I landed astride an amplifier and landed on my testicles with an audience of five and a half million watching. And that shot me to stardom! So it's always been a favourite."

Actual image of Otway remembering landing on his testicles

"What's quite nice," Otway continues, "is that Bob Lind, the person that wrote it, wrote to me quite a few years ago and said, 'I understand you've done my song.'" Otway -- who really does have an English accent, which makes it occasionally challenging to decode what he's saying. so I miss a few words here -- then apparently replied to this letter, saying, "'Not only have I covered your song, I've played it at nearly every single gig of my career'... In an interview [Lind] did quite recently he said that my version of 'Cheryl's Going Home' is his favourite, which is quite nice." 

Another early cover, a version of "Where Do You Go to My Lovely," by Peter Sarstedt, gets significant mention in Otway's hilarious (first) memoir, Cor Baby, That's Really Me (which you can order from his website). Otway did it at that first gig, then performed as part of a bill with the Aylesbury Youth Orchestra (a version of the song seems to appear on some versions of the Aylesbury Goes Flaccid compilation but I don't think it's that one). Otway's memoir, somewhat eccentrically written in the third person, tells the story of the event, also from very early in his prehistory. Excerpting from pages 21-22:

After toying with various ideas, [Otway] decided to try and sing "Where Do You Go to My Lovely," add as much drama and emotion as he could, and use the 'Yelling Voice' he had tried at Queens Park playground. Basically, he thought, "I'll just get up there, sing this song and go completely over the top." 

John's performance that night followed some chamber music and an oboe solo. The audience was quiet and politely applauded our young star as he walked on the stage and hammered out the first few chords of the song. 

After the first line of singing, a couple of the younger members started giggling with embarrassment, to be joined very shortly by several more. As he hit the first chorus, and the first high note of the song, which meant screwing up his face into a contorted shape and forcing all the air in his lungs through his vocal chords as fast as possible, the whole audience erupted. Tears streamed down the faces of that orchestra and one woodwind player actually fell of his chair clutching his sides.

Otway got his first ever standing ovation that night. No one had ever seen anything quite so ridiculous and funny on one of these courses. 'I loved that silly singing you did," they said afterwards to a beaming Otway. Even Tony Freeth, who was organiser and conductor, thanked John for a very entertaining piece. 

So that was another important song in terms of Otway's history -- "the first time I ever cracked an audience," Otway puts it to me, "and the first time I'd realized that that sort of humour onstage could reap rewards." 

Otway does "tend to pick the covers for the humour element in them," but "Cheryl's Going Home" "wasn't ever done as a funny song," he explains. It entered his set during the time when Otway was performing regularly at Wild Willy Barrett's folk club in the early 1970s, where he'd been regularly doing "Where Do You Go to My Lovely." "It used to go down quite well, but Willy, after about the third week, said, 'If you want to play here again, you'll have to play a different song,' so I had to try to find a different song, and there was this song that was on the B-side of [Lind's] 'Elusive Butterfly,' and I'd always liked the track. I managed to discover that I could actually work out the chords to it. So I did the same thing I did with 'Where Do You Go to My Lovely,' and added this whole middle section which is full of drama."

The funnier, more outlandish material Otway does balances quite nicely with the sincere romanticism of some of his covers (including a version of "The Highwayman" that rivals Phil Ochs' for sheer drama) as well as some of the songs he's written (like "Geneve," his second single, which puzzled fans of "Really Free," his previous hit, to no end). "I've always tried to write well, and I've never found a difficulty going from something that's completely ridiculous to something that's really nicely written. I've never felt that you need to warn or tell people or do anything, you just play a nice song. Something that I think is nicely written is a song called 'Poetry and Jazz' on the Premature Adulation album, that I spent eighteen months writing. It's a lovely song. I try to write as well as I can. Even the amusing stuff, I try and do my best."

In terms of Otway's originals, I've grown particularly fond of "Louisa on a Horse," which was produced by Pete Townshend. The story of that encounter is entertainingly told in Otway's first memoir, including a studio encounter with an impressed Mick Jagger, whom Otway fails to recognize: "What did Mick Jagger say?" Otway's friends ask him. 

Otway is terrific at portraying himself as a bit clueless, even if you sense that he's actually a fairly savvy, clever character; it's quite a charming combination, actually. 

So does Otway still run into Townshend? "Our paths have crossed occasionally. When he played Toronto in the 1980s, I met up with him and we went to the Toronto show." Not long ago, as well, "we did a direct-to-disc version of the first album and Willy sent him a note and got a nice note back saying he couldn't help out but wished us the best with it and said to 'say hi to John for me.' He's obviously aware that I'm still around!"

I observe that it's curious that Townshend is not mentioned in the Otway movie. "What happened with the movie was that, I wanted to start it off with what will probably always be the best I gig I've ever done, which is the one in the Aylesbury Market Square after the first hit. And we had lovely footage that was shot for a television company on 16 mil film, and these days you can blow that up and do some work on it and it looks absolutely wonderful. And when we started making Otway: The Movie, I wanted to start off with the market square with 10,000 people in it, and me doing a song, because it makes such a strong statement; and then we basically told the story from there. And when I got up to writing the first book, I went right back to when I was born and did everything that led up to that concert, and carried on from there. But the film was long, and I noticed that it upset the narrative quite a bit. So everything leading up to that concert, including all the Pete Townshend stuff, got cut, to make the narrative tell one linear story. And Pete Townshend didn't want to be in the film, so we didn't have footage of him talking about me, which obviously would have made the film."

As for "Louisa on a Horse" -- rather hilariously represented live here, in footage from 2003 -- the song has some autobiographical significance for Otway: "White Leaf Cross is a beauty spot just outside of Aylesbury where I was born, and when my parents kicked me out of home, I lived on White Leaf Cross in a tent for a little while, and my first girlfriend [Sue Reese] lived near Princess Risborough. A lot of the references are all about that time. And when we recorded it, Pete Townshend said, 'I think I should put a bit of guitar on it,' and he was three feet away from me; there was a track playing, and Pete Townshend  played on my track literally three feet away from me, doing these wonderful Pete Townshend power chords. Funnily enough, I wasn't a huge Who fan at the time, but I remember watching him do that, thinking, 'Oh, he's quite good!'" 

I also asked about "Beware the Flowers ('Cause I'm Sure They're Going to Get You, Yeh)," the b-side of Otway's first and biggest hit. "Beware the Flowers" was voted England's 7th favourite song lyric in a BBC poll, as Otway explained with a very entertaining anecdote at the North Vancouver open mic (also reported in the Independent; it's a story that can be more fully researched by watching the movie about him, which itself was voted a favourite film in a Guardian poll, based on his fan's interventions). I have no shortage of theories as to where the central lyrical conceit might have come from, from the Star Trek episode, critiquing hippie passivity and drug use, showing the crew of the Enterprise stoned on the exhalations of dangerous alien plants, to Day of the Triffids, to a general mistrust of the cliched tokens of romantic love; but asked about the inspirations, Otway doesn't weigh in conclusively. "It's not one of those songs you can say, 'Oh, it's about this.' But amusingly, there's a list of songs that people can choose for their funerals, and it's on there, because people have chosen it. You can understand why!"  

As for "Bunsen Burner," his second hit -- "given" to him by his online fans as a 50th birthday present, which story there is also a great deal of entertaining background about in the movie -- the video features a very unique guitar, hinged in the middle, and designed so that you can trade off whether you are playing left- or right-handedly; two people can play it at once, as well. When I first saw it in the video, I thought it was a visual effect, a gag, some sort of mirror image stunt. It may be a gag of sorts, but it's also a physical object and a real, functioning guitar, which Otway will have with him, along with his Theremin, a vocal sampler, and a few other doodads to enhance his solo show. "Almost every song's got some sort of humorous attachment," he quips. 

This is not an optical illusion; that's a real guitar.

I ask Otway what that particular guitar is called, and he jokes, "It's a 12 string," pausing a beat to see if I get it; more usually, he refers to it as his "ambidextrous" guitar: "It folds up and it takes a lot of room, and you sometimes think, 'Is it worth carting something that big around the world for a three-minute gag; then you go, 'Yeah, yes it is.' Nobody else has got one!"

Otway explains to me how this unique instrument came to be: "Ollie Halsall, the person I played the Vancouver gig with, was a left-handed guitarist. And I'm left-handed. I mean, the first instrument I learned to play was the violin. I make a joke about it onstage, but you never get left-handed violin players, because when you're in the orchestra, the bow goes in the other person's eye. I'd love to see a symphony orchestra with one left-handed violin player, d'you know what I mean? All these people with OCD would go 'NO! Kick him out, he's driving me mad!' So anyway, because I did right-handed violin, I did right-handed guitar, but when I was working with Ollie, he would always ask me, 'Oh, could you tune up my guitar,' so I would tune up his guitar and found out that I might have been able to play the left handed guitar better. And it did make me realize I could play chords both ways round."

As Otway planned designs for the guitar, he realized that without a hinge, "the case would need to be this big":


"I thought, to make is smaller -- there's no strings going down the middle, so why not put it in two halves and hinge them together? And then I realized, 'hang on, you can make it flap!'" Otway moves his elbows back and forth to demonstrate. "It became a great source of humour." Otway had mocked up "a rough one," sawing up two Gibson guitars, whereupon he discovered that if you saw up two right-handed guitars, "they're not mirror images of each other," one of them clearly being upside-down. "I decided I wanted a proper one, which  meant getting a guitar maker that made both right- and left- handed guitars to make it. I told him about hinging them together and put a note to get a thick, rubber vacuum cleaner belt to go between them, so that it would flap. He went, 'I'm sure that we could do better than a vacuum cleaner belt.' And I went, 'As long as it flaps, that's fine.' And it arrived, and it had a vacuum cleaner belt! ...which makes it spring backwards and forwards."

It's delightful to watch, very funny, more than any mere optical effect could be. "I've always liked physical humour, and I've always been quite good at it, as people spotted my lack of coordination. People laugh at you if you're slightly un-coordinated. It's quite a handy attribute to have!"

Otway has a great sense of humility and humour about himself, as may be apparent, but he's actually a bit hard on himself in that book, no? 

"Ages ago, I had someone write a very disparaging short bio, and I just really liked the humour; I realized that banana skins are far more amusing than successes. My career, when I wrote that first book, was at a very low point, and I thought, 'Why not just write an amusing book where, instead of the artist being the good guy and the record companies being the bad ones, you have it the other way around, where the record companies are really doing their best, and the management is really doing their best, and this artist manages to screw everything up!' And unfortunately, when I looked back on all the decisions in my career, I could always find out where I'd gone wrong. I found it was an easy and amusing book to write, as long as I wrote it in the third person; if I'd written it in the first person, it wouldn't have been the same thing. And I could be a lot more cruel about myself than anybody else could possibly be!"

It's really all just a persona he's created. "It's an extension of me. The actual real Otway is basically boring. The Otway that I created is a lot more fun and exciting! And the other Otway fucks up a lot. I've always just imagined myself watching myself from the audience: 'Would I be entertained by this?' For me, the job of the entertainer isn't to travel the world persuading people you're a brilliant, wonderful person. It's to entertain them! It's character entertainment. So in the heckles for 'House of the Rising Sun,' the whole audience yells, 'Who's a prat?' and I go, 'I'm one!'" (Otway is not decisive as to whether a "heckle sheet" will be provided to mock him in the traditional manner for that song; a character named Deadly the Roadie may be on hand to help out on that front. But you can see some of the call-and-response at work in the Abbey Road sequences in the Otway film. Yes, Otway has recorded at Abbey Road!). 


Of course, back in February of this year, Otway's subsequent tour of New Zealand was impacted by a natural disaster, Cyclone Gabrielle, which ultimately meant that he had to cancel a couple of appearances, something he hates to do. That's why he decided to re-book a tour of the area, and why he's stopping over here again, with a bit of a better venue lined up (again with the aid of Gary Topp and a few of us who were at the Toby's show). The November 4th gig at LanaLou's has a cancellation of its own, in that Murray Acton of the Dayglo Abortions had originally been slated to round out the bill; he has to go back into hospital to deal with some of the leftovers of his recent cancer ordeal, so taking his place will be Stephen Hamm: Theremin Man. Which in a way is perfect, because Otway will also be packing his Theremin. There is discussion of a Theremin duet or duel or such (Otway has something in mind, he tells me; I can't wait to see what).  

Otway in North Vancouver

And if Otway isn't really a punk, he did (and does) have a trailblazing, punklike, DIY attitude: his first single, of "Misty Mountain" and "Gypsy," released in 1972, on CRS Records, was actually a self-release -- a very uncommon practice at the time; though they make it seem like a label, CRS is just the company -- County Recording Service -- where Otway (and Barrett, though he is not credited) got it pressed (a single copy is on sale on Discogs as I write this; with shipping, it would come to just over $108 Canadian dollars). The single came to the attention of famed DJ John Peel, giving Otway and Barrett "a bit of an early start. He was always looking out for new acts, and he picked up on the fact that there was this strange record that came out of Aylesbury that the artists had produced themselves, and it started playing on a major radio station, on the BBC. And then Pete Townshend got to hear of it, and that was a huge first step, to be a 20 year old, and Pete Townshend is producing some tracks for you... it's a great start!"

Was Otway punk rock before there was punk rock, then? "As I've said before, being shocking and playing badly suddenly became fashionable and caught up with us. But we'd been doing it for years! The problem is, a few years later, it became unfashionable, and we were still being shocking and playing badly."

John Otway plays LanaLou's on November 4th -- Facebook page here, Eventbrite here.  Contrary to previous reports, doors will be at 8 and the show will start closer to 9ish. Murray Acton will not be present; Stephen Hamm: Theremin Man (subject of a live review at LanaLou's on this very blog) will start the night, followed by a set from the Minimalist Jug Band, then a full! set! from Otway starting off sometime around 10:30. Not exactly sure what Hamm and Otway will have in mind, but you can likely expect some interaction -- both men are amenable!


Wednesday, October 25, 2023

John Otway gig: swap Murray Acton for Stephen Hamm! (Murray can't make it!)


More to come, but let's start here: Murray Acton cannot be at the Lanalou's gig November 4th. opening for British cult legend John Otway. Murray was definitely keen. He had been watching Otway videos (maybe even the movie about him; possibly this clip from Urgh! A Music War, maybe his big 1977 UK hit, and who knows what all else). He wrote, in one email to me, "I've been checking out this John Otway character. Holy shit. He is quite something. He is quite the performer and seems to play to some packed houses in the UK. It's an honour to play with someone of this calibre. He's funny as hell too, I'm going to have to bring some big league humour to this one."

I was really excited, too. Besides Murray, I'd be seeing the Minimalist Jug Band (also an Otway enthusiast, as discussed here) and getting my second ever chance to see Otway (who played a crazy, brief show in North Vancouver last year). And I have become quite a fan of Murray's. I've heard some of his new solo stuff - the Hearts of Stone, I believe, is the name of the project -- and it's quite dark, quite potent, quite raw. But there was -- we knew -- exactly one thing that would stop Murray from performing: having surgery booked, related to his tango earlier this year with cancer. 

Surgery has been booked! So Murray is off the bill - he is going to be recuperating from having his guts messed with (which we hope will all be done in time for the mid-November Dayglos tour; there is an Edmonton date November 25th, not sure what-all else but you can figure it out). 

In place of Murray, Stephen Hamm Theremin Man will be performing. I caught him at LanaLou's a couple years ago, and it was definitely a memorable show! 

And John Otway plays (and is packing) a Theremin, too! (But also a weird-ass ambidextrous guitar of his own design; more on that later). This could get very interesting! 

The times listed on some online spots are incorrect, by the way. Show will start closer to 9. Watch this space for more! Wish Murray an easy time! And buy your tickets here!


Monday, October 23, 2023

Shopping for records at Value Village Boutique: Caveat emptor, plus how NOT to price things at a thrift store


Image: an actual fistful of records from Vancouver's new Value Village Boutique, which opened last Thursday. The Velvets reissue with the sticker was priced at $69.99 (you can buy the same edition new from Red Cat for $46.99). It Came from Canada Vol. 2 was $23.99, and gave me some pause (Discogs median $21.67, but it would be more with shipping, so I had to think about it. Do I have Deja Voodoo doing "Three Men One Coffin?" How much do I feel the need to own a Zamboni Drivers song?). In the end, the one I bought is the red one, by The Milkshakes, AKA Thee Milkshakes, an early Billy Childish band. It starts on Discogs for $7.50, but with shipping would be $40 CAD. I like Billy Childish, and they only wanted $18.99, pretty much exactly what I would pay for it at Red Cat, so what the heck. It amuses me to buy Billy Childish from Value Village. 


Apparently it was Alexander Pope who warned that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. 

I doubt he was thinking of thrift stores. While I doubt very much the knowledge imparted below will help thrift stores price their vinyl at a more reasonable rate, it might just save some of the readers from being abused, because -- as exciting as the vinyl selection at the new Value Village Boutique (on Granville near Nelson) might be, the pricing is something to be wary about, especially given that there are no exchanges, once you buy the record, and absolutely no apparent concern for condition; records very visibly wrecked were being sold at entirely unreasonable collectors' prices. So caveat emptor!  

For someone who knows a bit about records, thrift store prices are often ambitious to the point of hilarity, and none worse than at the most famous "for profit" thrift store, the one that barely donates any of its proceeds to charity -- which has been described as an "ethical nightmare," in fact -- Value Village. Before I talk about them, however, let's talk about thrift stores in general, while leaving aside the question of charity. My personal preference there, if I want my money to go somewhere worthy, is hospice or hospital thrift stores, which are also often the most reasonably priced; SPCA and Wildlife-themed thrift stores come in second; religious thrift stores are somewhat more distasteful, as they seem a bit more, I dunno, colonialist -- buying "Bibles for Missions" is not a priority for me, compared to respite for the dying or ill. But there are no thrift stores I eschew because I prefer one charitable cause over another. I'll still shop at Value Village, even though I find their pretext of being a charitable organization quite misleading/ offensive. But if the price is right...

...but therein lies the rub. More often than not, thrift stores fall into one of the following categories, especially in regard their pricing of books and records:

1. They don't know anything, they know they don't know anything, and they price everything accordingly, with an eye towards bulk sales. 

This is my favourite type of thrift store; it is definitely NOT the Value Village model. A few obviously deluxe items aside, almost all books, CDs, DVDs and records at such stores -- Wildlife Rescue in Vancouver is an example; the Salvation Army, in most locations, is another -- are a dollar or two. If what you want is a deal, there's no better experience. I snagged Jerry Jerry and the Sons of Rhythm Orchestra's stellar "Christian libertarian surf punk" debut, Road Gore: The Band that Drank Too Much at a Salvation Army for $2.99 once. You can't beat that. You might even feel a bit guilty, especially since I would have paid $20 for it happily, but what was I gonna do, pass it up because it was underpriced? 

Of course, you have to go fairly often to such stores, and be there when they unload the good stuff, because they're pretty competitive and deals tend to get hoovered up immediately, but if there is one such store in your neighbourhood, diligence is a small price to pay for, uh, the prices you'll pay, if you see what I mean. 


Image:
Powerslave by Iron Maiden, priced (in used shape with "no exchange") at $44.99 at the new VV Boutique; you can buy it new for $32.99 at London Drugs. Hm, which of those is the better deal?

2. Alas, the vastly more commonplace thrift store experience, especially when it comes to Value Village, is where they don't know anything, but they think they know something, and they price the wrong things quite high, while (often) letting anything actually valuable go for a song. 

Best as I can figure, the current extremity of pricing that one sees in the secondhand vinyl market directly correlates to the death of David Bowie. There are plenty of David Bowie albums available on vinyl, you understand. Before he died, you could get most used Bowie records for $15-20; even since he died, you can get most of his catalogue, new or used, for a reasonable price, if you shop at a store that actually specializes in records and take some time to do your homework. To pick a record I saw yesterday at the new location of the Value Village Boutique on Granville, Station to Station, you can order a brand new copy of it at Red Cat, on vinyl, for $34.99 (London Drugs, who do a decent job of stocking some new vinyl, but tend to be on the higher end in their new pricing, do not stock this particular title, but the Bowies they do have on vinyl are mostly $39.99). By that logic, if a used store that actually specializes in records were to try to sell it, a reasonable price might be $25 or less, depending on the condition. A first pressing might go for a bit more, but not everyone cares about such things; in many cases, recent pressings have thicker vinyl and improved sound quality, so between a used first pressing and a recent reissue I generally tend to the latter. 

But yesterday at the Value Village Boutique, the record was selling used for $39.99. Was it an early pressing? Probably not; they don't generally seem to pay attention to such things, that I can see. Was it in pristine shape? I did not check, because I was already out of the game as soon as I saw that it was priced for more than a new record, but even if it WERE in good shape before it was put on their shelf, they affix their stickers to the inside of the record, where there is no lamination, so even if it WAS in pristine shape, the act of removing the sticker will likely tear the cover, so it won't be pristine pretty quickly. Probably there were more than a few scuffs and surface noise too. 

But no matter what else we might say, a record should not cost more at a thrift store than it does at a record store. But thrift store or record store, when Bowie died, suddenly dealers everywhere marked his used records up, corresponding, I presume, to a huge sudden demand for his classic material on vinyl. Weirder, customers must be playing ball with it, because it has become the norm in pricing such items: I bet some kid will buy that Station to Station and think he's gotten a great deal, a real investment; he probably won't even have a turntable to play it on. It's not about that, it's about bragging rights: "Wow, look, ma, I got Bowie's Station to Station for only $40!"

That's nice, dear.  

Of course, there were always two bands that have always been subject to this sort of ambition and greed, the Beatles and Pink Floyd, but with Bowie's passing, some sort of chain reaction happened, and suddenly dozens of other artists (the Stones, Bob Dylan, Led Zep, Leonard Cohen, etc) are getting marked up beyond what's reasonable, especially at VVs. It's the low hanging fruit of the vinyl world: if it is from a famous artist from the 60s or early 70s, Value Village are probably pricing it for more than you would pay for for at Neptoon or Red Cat or Audiopile or Zulu, and irrespective of condition, are quite likely charging more than the record sells for new, with "no exchange" if you're not happy with it. 

I like stores like this, however, don't get me wrong. A store that has a battered, ringworn, seam-split, and generally well-used copy of Pink Floyd's The Wall priced at $50, when you can buy it brand new for that price, might also price a genuinely scarce underground item, say (vastly more interesting to me) for $20 or less. If you want to know if you can get a good deal at a thrift store, in fact, seeing how they price Pink Floyd or David Bowie is usually a reliable index of whether it is worth your time. Is there a (warped, scratched) copy of Dark Side of the Moon with the corners of the cover having been eaten by rats, mould stains on the gatefold, a gouge the size of Commercial Drive on side B, and a $40 pricetag? That probably means that they have no clue what they're doing, are too overwhelmed with greed to actually do research, and/or think their clients are the same, so you'll do just fine as long as you avoid the common stuff, which is all they KNOW they can mark up. It's the stuff they've never even heard of that you can get for pennies. 

...And an added bonus is that if you see a thrift store that is exhibiting this sort of greedy and unreasonable behaviour in their pricing, you feel no guilt at all in taking advantage of them by buying the underpriced stuff. 

Of course, the really dumb thrift stores are the ones that overprice the Elvis, or worse, have some Barbra Streisand record marked up to $15 when you can get it at every other thrift store for fifty cents... but it's the same general principle. Many Value Villages are like this, when you ask to see the "collector's vinyl" behind the counter: "Yeah, right, Bachman Turner Overdrive for $29.99, good luck with that." But the new Value Village Boutique actually HAS desirable records; they actually HAVE Pink Floyd and Bob Dylan and Led Zep and Leonard Cohen and so forth on their shelves. They seem to have been hoarding the good stuff from every donation center with this grand opening in mind. Their Elvis might be overpriced, too, but I didn't check.  

Actual condition of a copy of the Beatles' Revolver, priced at $44.99 at the Value Village Boutique. This was a monaural pressing. Mono is the way the record was meant to sound, so this copy would be worth a fair bit more than $44.99 if it were in actually playable shape. Trashed like this, I wouldn't pay a dollar for it. They had a stereo copy, too, priced exactly the same, but I didn't check the condition. My favourite listing for a copy of the mono pressing on Discogs at the moment includes in the item description, "Record is truly marked up. It looks like some people wrote their names just directly on the grooves. Might play. Cover top & bottom seams mostly split, spine full split. Names written in marker, general yellowing. Cleaned with ultra and vacuum system." They are asking $7, but since there are 782 copies of it in mono for sale on Discogs at the moment, even $7 seems ambitious. $44.99 seems like someone was smokin' somethin'. "Might play," indeed.

This brings us to the most rare scenario in the world of thrift store record pricing. 

3. They actually know what they're doing. You should NEVER assume thrift store pricing is being done by someone who has their finger on the pulse of the value of the items they are stickering, but occasionally it does happen. I went into an SPCA thrift store in Victoria the other week, weirdly located in a strip mall, and was very startled: their vinyl was priced pretty much exactly as a real record store would price it. The junk was a buck, but they had lots of rather cool rock and such -- especially lots of Nirvana-related material --  priced for around the same thing that you'd find at nearby stores like Ditch or Supreme Echo. Of course, that's not why people go to thrift stores -- people go to thrift stores because they want a deal, not to pay the same price they'd be paying at a real record store -- but if they actually had had a record I would have bought at Ditch or Supreme Echo, I would have bought it happily from them, too. There would have been no deal, but no guilt either. I flipped through their stock and chatted with the owner, complimented him, and nodded a few times at seeing the prices he was asking; I would have done nothing differently. I also probably won't go back, but it was impressive to see a thrift store being run like a collector's shop, WITHOUT a bunch of predictably greedy, stupid mistakes; he probably does okay by the SPCA on his vinyl sales, compared to other locations (which tend to be more reasonable). 

But Value Village is not that kind of thrift store. The new location, as I say, has some vastly ambitious pricing. The millenials I could see poking around the vinyl section appeared to be excited just to see bands they recognized the names of. At one point, I overheard someone in all sincerity exclaim, "Look, it's a record by the Eagles!" while I was flipping through a different section. Really? A record by the Eagles! Well, that must be worth a whole LOT... Further, they seemed to be taking the pricing on good faith. Maybe their excitement is rooted in some sort of ignorant greedy speculation, too, like they're prospectors panning for gold, who can't tell the fool's gold from the real stuff any more than the seller can...? Maybe the exorbitant prices somehow validate their greed, lock buyer and seller in a little orgiastic fool's gold celebration, while the real prospectors go on about their business, unimpressed...?

My takeaway for millenials, I guess. is to JUST GO TO A GODDAMN RECORD STORE. You might be surprised to discover that that forty or fifty dollar copy of Nebraska you're thinking of buying at VV costs ten or twenty dollars less, in better condition, at a real store (one that guarantees their product, so if there is a warp or scratch or skip you didn't spot, you can bring the record back).  You might also want to check what the lowest-priced copy is on Discogs or eBay, or, if you are afraid on missing out on the sale ("what if I leave it, go to a store, and they don't have it, then I come back and it's GONE?" just PHONE a record store and ask if they have it, and how much it sells for. Neptoon, Red Cat, Zulu, and Audiopile are all reasonable. You might save yourself some money! 

By far my favourite find which I did not buy (but only because I already have it) was Mine Would Be the Sun, by the Suitesixteen, fronted by BUM's Rob Nesbitt, who I'm eventually going to write something major about; I have a long history with Nesbitt and find him a fascinating person, one of the smartest, most articulate people I've interviewed. And while Green Day-esque power pop is not, in fact, my go-to, musically, these days, I have a ton of respect for this record, which is an amazingly detailed, meticulously assembled labour of love on Rob's part, a  double album inspired in part by the Who's Quadrophenia, written about his first love, whom he met when he was a student at the same damn junior high school that I went to out in Maple Ridge (I knew him, back when). In a stroke of stunningly awful bad luck, Rob released the album just before COVID. He was never able to properly tour it, has not played a live show since the lockdown, and is basically sitting on boxes of it, not sure what to do with it this many years down the road. Record collectors with an interest in local music might want to snag it -- it's kind of a one-of-a-kind album that the collectors of the future will no doubt discover and find fascinating -- though if you're on the island, or are planning a trip, I would recommend LOOKING ROB UP and BUYING IT DIRECT FROM HIM, because the copy at Value Village costs the same damn price as he's charging (well, $59.99 vs. $60; it's a penny cheaper at VV). 

If you're on the mainland, mind you, well, at least you'll save on shipping.  

There were a few records I might have bought if the prices were a bit more realistic. The Cure's The Walk was something like $30; I might have played $15 or even $20, because you don't see it around very often (and it has a cool cover), but it only has six songs on it, and the two I like most, I already have on a Cure anthology. The English Beat's album with "Mirror in the Bathroom" on it kind of appealed to me, too, but I cannot for the life of me figure out why they were asking $39.99. It wasn't signed, didn't seem to be a particularly desirable pressing, wasn't sealed, believe it was just your standard North American "English Beat" version (not "the Beat," which would denote the UK pressing). A comparable copy costs $11 on Discogs (plus shipping, of course). I have no doubt that if I spent an hour, phoning around, I could get the record for $20 or less at a store; I would have happily paid $10 at a thrift store, but no more.  

After spending an hour or so there on Thursday, and another hour or so there yesterday, the stuff I finally did buy, besides the Milkshakes, is pictured below.  

The Holy Modal Rounders double album was $16.99, in really nice shape. I have reissues of both the albums it compiles already, but not the two pages of liner notes in the gatefold, plus I've always had a fondness for this Fantasy twofer, which a) was how I was first introduced to the band by BC musician Matt Rogalsky, and which b) makes the name of the band seem like they're Someone You Oughta Know, with which valuation I abundantly agree. Robert Christgau is a big fan of the Rounders, and especially of the surviving half of this duo-form version, one Peter Stampfel (who was also in the Fugs; you know the really screechy background vocal on "CIA Man," or the lead vocalist on the Rounders' "If You Want to Be a Bird," on the Easy Rider soundtrack? That's Peter). I've interviewed Peter a few times. He's still playing shows (age 84!) and working on new material; he's a bit of a musical hero of mine. And to be clear: I did not buy this to flip it, or because I thought it was worth a whole lot of money, above what they were charging (I'd be lucky to get my own money back, were I to attempt to sell it, but no matter, because I'm not going to). I bought it because I love the music on it, know the record, and do not have it. And because the price was, unlike almost everything else at the VV boutique, exactly right for what a thrift store should be charging for such a thing. $16.99? Done.

As for B.A.D., it was $18.99, which seems a bit much, but I have been looking for this since I found out how deeply involved Joe Strummer was in the project. I've only listened to it one time through but I think I like it better than Cut the Crap and maybe even Earthquake Weather (though it will take some time and repeated spinnings to know; so far so good, tho'). In my years of B.A.D. snobbery, I overlooked completely that Joe co-wrote five songs and produced the album; he might even do a backup vocal here and there? I guess I'm late to this party, because no store I've looked for it at has had it. But the condition was right, and now I can stop looking for it, even if $18.99 seemed a bit high. 

The Buffy Sainte-Marie albums were a bit stranger, in that they were quite reasonably priced at $5.99 and $7.99, they seem like I *could* possibly flip them, for trade at least, if I decide I want to. Really, it all comes down to the scratch on one side of the "best of" twofer. Hard to tell if it will affect play. It's pretty ugly-looking, but that's not always a determiner; sometimes you have to spin the record to see. But "Universal Soldier" is on the album -- my favourite song by her, of the ones I know -- and not on the bad side, and I don't actually have a copy of that song in my collection; so in the worst case, I've bought myself a Buffy Sainte-Marie album. And I do like her! And $7.99 is about the right price for a double record with a big scratch on one side, so what the heck. 

In sum: it's not impossible to find a good deal at the new Value Village, just difficult. I hope that time and experience teach them that if they're pricing damaged product for more than it can be bought for new, it won't pay off in the long term; that they have to consider condition when it comes to vinyl; and that they should at least check what the Discogs median is, or what completed eBay auctions have the album going for,  before they stick a pricetag on it (maybe with glue not likely to tear the cover?). In the meantime, in the interests of making sure that message gets through, if you're shopping there, be careful, eh? At the very least, CHECK THE CONDITION, because they didn't. If it actually looks playable, go to Discogs, find the album you are considering, make sure you're looking at the vinyl version (not the CD), and then look at the median price -- the average that it actually has sold for. For that Big Audio Dynamite, the median is $5.73, while the high is $26 or so. You might guess that a record store would charge $20 at best for an album like that, but more reasonably might let it go for $10 or $15. Paying any more than that is a bit dim, unless you personally have looked for it in half a dozen record stores and have not seen it, which is exactly the case with me and this record. 

Be aware, though: chances are whatever you are buying is overpriced, and since you won't be able to exchange it, examine it very carefully, eh?

Happy shopping!