Being fashionable has never been something I’ve ever been particularly good at. When I started in music, I would regularly extol the virtues of artists like The Band, Jackson Browne, Warren Zevon, and Bruce Springsteen – all genuine influences, drip fed to me by my parents’ record collection whilst growing up in the west end of Glasgow – only to be greeted with blank expressions and hushed advice that hurried to tell me I wasn’t quite “down with the kidz”. So, when I released my first album Bookmarks in 2007, featuring Kris Kristofferson and Eddi Reader, there was a general sense of not fitting in with the scene. Angular guitar pop was the measure of the day, and there didn’t seem to be much room for an album that was decidedly old school in its approach. And yet, the music scene at the moment is notably full of bands going back to basics – Laura Marling, Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros, Dawes, Father John Misty, even acts like Arcade Fire – and that fills me with great hope. For whilst my own music has evolved and changed with each passing year – for better or worse – it serves to remind me that whatever course you may be on, you should stick to it no matter what.
Last weekend I hooked up with that nocturnal BBC Radio Scotland dweller Ravi Sagoo to go and see Monkees legend Mike Nesmith play one of his first UK gigs in aeons at Glasgow’s Oran Mor. Ravi was driving (more on that later) and I was indulging in a few minor refreshments, so we were teed up nicely for what we hoped would be a grand musical nostalgia-fest (we even considered wearing bobble hats in honour of the man and his work). And yet whilst Mr Nesmith was perfectly good, and in fine voice, there was something jarring about his choice of musical accompaniment. Mike stood centre stage with an acoustic guitar, but flanked by two musicians with laptops who triggered pre-recorded loops and beats to play along to. We didn’t have to wait too long before technology flexed its considerable muscles and began to wreak havoc on Mike and his band’s sense of timing. Frantic looks were exchanged, buttons were pressed, and the whole thing groaned under the weight of just trying that bit too hard to be “fashionable”. Still, the man deserves credit for attempting something different – but give me just a voice and a guitar any day.
So tonight we visit the work of a man who laughs in the face of fashion. So cool is he, so utterly accomplished in all he does, that he even got away with changing his name to a squiggly line for a few years (though maybe not the best move if you want to be part of the electoral register). I talk of course of Prince, who is our Undercover Writer on the show this week, and so adept is he at writing in almost any style that even my own uncool influences have covered his work. Tune in for Warren Zevon’s take on one of the purple suited chameleon’s great pop songs.
And as for Ravi’s driving? Let’s just say it’s a mix between Jensen Button and Mr Magoo. But I suppose he does work awfully late nights.
