Unsung Songs #3: Ben Watt – Some Things Don’t Matter

I’m guessing it was around February 1983 – it was definitely a Sunday afternoon and I had Radio 1 playing while I was doing my best not to complete a homework essay, the topic of which could have been:

a) Some sort of creative writing piece in French

b) An analysis of some aspect or another of Bertolt Brecht’s play, The Caucasian Chalk Circle

or c) Peter The Great (without mentioning his introduction of a tax on beards, which whilst a highly amusing fact, would according to our History teacher, not earn a mark in an A Level exam).

As it wasn’t yet evening, my level of urgency to get the essay finished would have been low and it wouldn’t have taken a great deal to distract me. And distract me a piece of music did. Something that sounded just perfect for a rainy (probably – I was in Stockport) Sunday afternoon in February. A guy singing softly over an acoustic guitar and a lovely saxophone bit, exactly where it needed to be. The pen was put down and I listened transfixed, hoping that there would be a mention of the artist and title at the end of the song, as I’d not been listening that closely prior to the song playing.

I had a tiny spiral-bound notebook during the early 80’s, in which I kept a list of songs I’d heard on the radio that I liked. This book without doubt contained the neatest writing I’ve ever managed (*1) (*2). The name of Ben Watt and the title Some Things Don’t Matter were duly added when the song did indeed get its back announcement. At this point in time, I had no idea who Ben Watt was and for a few months, the song was just a memory, logged in my notebook.

Forward to July 1983, and I’m in my first week working for a firm of auditors in Manchester during my summer holidays. I’ve got some work there via George who lives round the corner. George chats to my father a lot and between them they have decided that some exposure to the accountancy world would be very useful for someone studying French, German and History at A Level. It’s a small firm and I soon notice that George is actually a bit of a joke in the office. His arrival at 9am on a Monday with me for my first day has his colleagues open-mouthed. I barely see him again after that as he’s always late, at lunch or leaving early – “visiting clients”, I’m told by said colleagues, who can barely supress their laughter. Everyone else in the office is old (i.e. over the age of 30), apart from Nigel. He’s delighted to see a younger person and talks to me a lot. He’s in his mid-20s, and the only mention of music that passes between us is him telling me how great he thinks Yes are.

Nigel reappears after popping out for lunch, complete with an HMV bag. He’s very excited and tells me that he’s just spent 99 pence on a brilliant album. I make some comment about prog rock albums and clearance sales. Undeterred, he gets out an album that’s called Pillows & Prayers and tells me to look at the the track listing. My eyes home in on Side 1, Track 5. “Wow! Have you heard that Ben Watt song? Were there any more copies of this album? That’s worth the price on its own!”, I gibber excitedly.

I take my lunch break and return with the same album. We share an office with Audrey, who looks like she should have retired a couple of decades earlier. Audrey tuts all afternoon as Nigel and I discover a shared love of John Peel shows and do next to no work.

It’s coming up to 40 years since I purchased that album. It’s been played a lot, well – parts of it have, none more so than Some Things Don’t Matter, which has never lost the ability to transport me back to a rainy Sunday afternoon in February 1983.

Maybe I’ll write about Pillows & Prayers at some point in the future, although I’d imagine most people reading this will be familiar with it. But this is Ben Watt’s moment of glory on this blog, and the point at which I humbly apologise to him for never purchasing the parent North Marine Drive album. Sure, I was relatively skint in 1983, but I’m ashamed to say that the first time I heard it in its entirety was via a streaming service. Maybe one day….

(*1) My handwriting is appalling. It’s so bad that I wasn’t allowed to use a pen at primary school – I was kept on pencil so that I could rub things out and try to make them legible for the teachers. Even now I can’t use a biro and have any hope of reading what I’ve written a couple of days later. A fine-nibbed fountain pen just about does the trick, and has marked me down as mildly eccentric with younger colleagues. I have been described as “lacking fine motor skills” for most of my life. Actually, “clumsy” is the word that’s usually used.

(*2) A list of really stupid things that I’ve done would include, somewhere near the top, the disposing of said notebook around 1988/89. As someone who is a self-confessed hoarder, this was totally out of character. As I recall, my logic was that I’d most likely never again hear those songs I’d not bought by then, so the book was just taunting me about missed purchases. Luckily I can still “see” some of the entries in my head (obviously the “neat” writing helped) and a number of them were acquired when iTunes became a thing.

TGG

June 21, 2023

Seen ’em Live #5

It’s taken longer than I anticipated to pull this piece together – I hope I remember everything I wanted to say.

A few months ago, I got rather excited. An act that I have followed since 1974 were going to be playing in Manchester. On what would be my 57th birthday. A band I only saw for the first time in April 2022 at a much-rearranged show. That April 2022 gig ranks with both me and Mrs TGG as one of the best shows we’ve ever been to. The band would also be releasing a new album on May 26th, the day prior to my birthday and the Manchester show. This is the title track from it – featuring a celebrity fan in the video.

Their first (and biggest) UK hit was #2 in the Charts on my 8th birthday. As with many playgrounds at the time, the band’s appearance on Top Of The Pops was a talking point, particularly the “scary man on the piano”. We thought he looked like the teacher who took all of our primary school’s classes for music and who had mastered a disapproving look when he played the piano prior to assembly and we loudly chattered over whichever classical piece he’d chosen to play. (*1)

This Town Ain’t Big Enough For Both Of Us has remained a favourite ever since and I’ve always managed to somehow keep up with what the Brothers Mael have been up to, without necessarily purchasing everything at the time. I loved their 1979 work with Giorgio Moroder, was probably the only person on our student radio station to play anything from the Music That You Can Dance To album, went into a buying spree during their reacquaintance with the charts and the airwaves in in the mid-90s, bought their 2015 collaboration with Franz Ferdinand as a download and they are by far and away top of my Spotify play count.

The April 2022 gig was at the Albert Hall in Manchester, a venue I’ve mentioned previously. What was evident was the love that the crowd had for Russell and Ron, and they seemed genuinely humbled by the reception that they received that evening. We certainly weren’t expecting that they’d be back in the city so soon, and this time going “upmarket” and playing at the Bridgwater Hall. We did wonder how the move to a venue with comfy seats might affect the show, but obviously we bought tickets.

The first thing I noticed was the age range of the audience. It was huge. I saw a primary school age child (admittedly an outlier), plenty under the age of 40, right up to the ages of Sparks themselves (mid-70s). I suppose an band with a 50+ year career who have constantly evolved their sound and have never been truly “in fashion” will attract that demographic.

First of all was a brief support from Mr B, The Gentleman Rhymer. Eccentric is probably the best word to describe his style. We all joined in shouting “All Hail The Chap” during one of his own ditties and his own take on various Sparks songs (including a lengthy medley) signposted some of the songs we wouldn’t be hearing later on in the evening. His website came up with a security warning when I tried to visit, so here’s his Wikipedia page, should you wish to know more: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mr.B_The_Gentleman_Rhymer

Only about a third of the setlist from April 2022 was retained for this tour (and I’ll come to some of those songs in due course). Last time, it almost seemed like a career-spanning Best Of, given that it had been a couple of years since the release of A Steady Drip Drip Drip. This time, with the new album just released, it featured heavily, with 7 songs taken from it. At least in Manchester, we’d had a couple of days to acquaint ourselves with it, and I was already familiar with some of the catchier elements as I’d had it pretty much on repeat for two days.

One song that stayed was the opener, So May We Start, taken from the 2021 soundtrack to the film Annette. I have to say that Russell Mael has remarkable energy for someone his age, and his vocals are still very good, but at both shows, there’s been a pause for Ron to step out from behind the keyboard and give his kid brother a break whilst delivering 1986’s Shopping Mall Of Love in a deadpan manner. The new songs seemed to be well received – even the Kraftwerk-y sounding Escalator, which has been described as the new album’s weakest track by some critics. I disagree.

I think initially the audience was a little more reserved than at the Albert Hall, but as the show went on, that love for the band was coming across in much the same way. And by the time the crowd pleasers came along (Music That You Can Dance To, When Do I Get To Sing “My Way”, No 1 Song In Heaven – complete with obligatory Ron dance and This Town…), the comfy seats were given up and everyone was on their feet. With typical Sparks humour, the main set finished with the closer from the new album, Gee, That Was Fun.

The three song encore was once again rounded off with 2020’s All That (probably as close to a phone-waving song as Sparks have ever got). There then followed several minutes of cheering, responded to be several thank-yous from Russell & Ron. Once again, they seemed genuinely humbled by the response they were getting. For me, any concerns about getting a less intense experience by moving venue just up the road were well and truly dispelled.

My favourite track from the new album did get played:

As a postscript the new album has entered the UK Album Chart at #7, their third consecutive one that’s got to that position. It was also #1 on physical sales. To be that relevant after 50 years is some achievement.

(*1) Subsequently I discovered that this teacher was a lifelong vegetarian, very unusual back then – I assume he was around 50 when I was at the school, so that would put his birthdate in the 1920s. He also never owned a car and cycled 10 miles to and from school every day on a bike that looked as old as he was, wearing his suit and a tatty looking raincoat, long before people wore cycle helmets. He seems to be very fondly remembered on the various “memories” social media – I actually feel bad for chattering through his piano playing now.

TGG

June 5, 2023