Thursday 30 April 2009

Tim Butcher "Blood River: A Journey To Africa's Broken Heart"


Tim Butcher’s book has divided opinion since it was published in 2007. Richard and Judy loved it, or their researchers did, and made it one of their featured titles. That, in turn, took it to the top of the bestsellers list, but I’m not sure whether it was entirely warranted. Basically it’s two books in one. First off, it’s the story of Butcher’s journey along the Congo river, recreating Henry Stanley’s trip a hundred and thirty-odd years earlier. The differences are startling. Stanley took 999 days, travelled mainly by foot or dugout, and the death toll amongst his colleagues and porters was considerable. Butcher relied on hitching lists with the UN and various charities, didn’t move a click under his own auspices, and moaned constantly all the way. The man has no sense of humour at all, and any attempt at levity from whichever Samaritan has taken pity on him is, at best, met with confusion. There’s no getting away from the fact that it was still considerable achievement travelling through a huge area where the concept of law and order is long forgotten, armed militia are out to kill everything that moves and, as Joe Strummer so succinctly put it, ‘every white face is an invitation to robbery’. Still, no need to be such a fuckin’ grump about it. The book’s other aspect is a serious attempt at explaining the history of this huge African country. Some of his conclusions are puzzling, but it’s still a well informed piece with plenty of first hand insights into the ongoing tragedy which is The Congo. He’s in the Middle East now. I doubt he’ll find much to chuckle about there, either.

Wednesday 29 April 2009

James Blackshaw "Waking Into Sleep"

I heard James Blackshaw on Radio 4 a couple of days ago and I knew I had one of his CDs tucked away somewhere. Well, it took some digging out, but here it is. Released on the Kning Disk label in 2006, Waking Into Sleep was recorded in Gothenburg during May of that year and features 4 longish instrumental tracks. Blackshaw’s a master 12-string guitarist, very much in the style of John Fahey and his Takoma posse. Jack Rose would be the closest contemporary comparison; both display remarkable finger dexterity, and as Blackshaw explained in his interview, repetitive strain injuries are not uncommon. There are close to ten albums available by Blackshaw, and you can find great reviews online for all of them, but this is the only one I’ve heard and I like it very much. Fans of Fahey and the new weird folk music would do well to investigate.

www.myspace.com/jamesblackshaw

Sunday 19 April 2009

David Griffith "Saucepan Bach"


Stiff, in its prime, was the sort of label that could inspire whole movements. They’re certainly partly responsible in kicking off the UK independent scene, so it’s no small compliment to Aussie singer-songwriter David Griffith that Saucepan Bach would have fitted right in with the various old pub rockers and punk popsters that Stiff peddled in its heyday. Mr Griffith’s got it going on. "Walk This Way" is vintage pub fare, circa 1976. Best enjoyed with a pint of light n’ bitter and one of your big brother’s rolys. Things calm down later, and songs like "Beyond The Bliss" bring out Griffith’s inner Nick Lowe to good effect, and suggest a genuine depth to his words. I don’t know who’s buying this sort of stuff anymore, but someone ought to. They don’t know what they’re missing.

Tuesday 7 April 2009

Fahrenheit 451 / Brave New World

After nearly a dozen years, Culture Vulture is no more. We used to distribute our little magazine, free of charge, around the local record shops and venues and all was well. People liked our reviews, bought the records and went to see the bands. Everyone was happy, love flowed and the music played. Then they shut the record shops, and the people were sad. They started downloading their tunes, and buying their CDs online, which made them a little happier, but they missed seeing their friends on a Saturday afternoon, because the only recommendations they received now were from the computers at Amazon and iTunes (based on previous purchases...). Then they closed the venues down, and the people were even sadder. They couldn’t see their favourite bands play live on a Friday night, and they had to go to festivals instead, sleep in a tent, eat lots of chips and get smelly. They couldn’t pick up their copy of Culture Vulture either, so they began to think it was all right to start liking U2 again. So Culture Vulture is no more because there’s nowhere left to stock it. We took all the old copies into the yard, splashed petrol on it, and burnt it good. We’ve embraced the future. When the going got impossible, we started blogging. It’s a pitiful excuse for what went before, but this is all there is.