Miles Davis

It really wouldn't be fair to put jazz on at this time of night, but jazz is what I have been listening to lately, Miles Davis to be specific. A while ago I found my soul resonating to blues, really old 1950s stuff. I appreciate blues, but somehow I have connected with jazz, at least I am starting to. It is the moodiness and sublimeness which pipes into my soul, the trumpet. I have learnt Miles Davis was an early mod icon, that the early mods identified with his Brook Brothers/ Ivy League style. Thanks Paolo Hewitt for the learning curve. Yeah the hipsters thought Britain very dull in the post war malaise, and an underground club scene sprang up in London, where a sharp suit counted. Modern jazz was appreciated. Somehow, the teddy boy scene, and the trad jazz beatniks did nothing for some, those who longed for colour. And a sped up, sexier life. It was a new culture born from the doldrums, exciting and inspiring to me now. The trumpet melodies of Miles Davis speed by so fast it is the soundtrack to Kerouak's On The Road, played faster. Technically, I respect MD for his prowess, but it is really only a means to music, technical prowess, that is. This is something a million rockers ought to realise, and don't. Driving in my car at night, Miles can transfigure my soul. It isn't easy music, but I feel sure I have led the uninitiated responsibly to a special place, by talking about the trumpet playing of Miles Davis. He was a prolific artist, and his music is easy to come by. My latest cost £6 on CD, for a 3 CD pack. Music is the language of the soul. Therefore, it is extremely important, and, bad music must not be tolerated. However...

Mark Lemon

I do not think the British music scene is bereft of talent. The biggest bands deserve a good measure of success. Kasabian, Kaiser Chiefs and Arctic Monkeys have substance and content. Paul Weller gets deserved recognition, Liam wears fantastic clothes and cuts a style. And yet, like the man himself, I always look back over my shoulder, to a bygone age, and seek to discover the diamonds of music which, unless identified, could fade. Here at this blog, I reflect on my fave 60s bands and solo artists, my favourite 45s, and of course I talk about vintage comedies. I talk about my Village Green Machine project, as well.

Village Green Machine is going well, in all respects, with recording, production and the video coming along well. I wrote a 60s garage style tune on Sunday, it was recorded on Monday. A good song, one of my best recent ones, and really fast for me. Loads of organ, and tremolo guitar. Called Come On. The production is taking a step forward as I get my head around reverb on tape. It sounds different than just when the music is recorded onto computer. Sartorial Of England is the new song here; a weird waltz time one, with fairground oompah style organ, and an Eastern style riff, also at the end we are experimenting with backwards vocals and guitar, dislocating these in time from the track. It is like 1966. The video is looking great, I was surprised as I had not liked the footage when I first saw it but David is doing a great job piecing the best parts together. Filmed in Port Merion. Looks like Italy, of course.

I am not allowed to plug this blog, on one forum in particular. I don't think it is helpful to shut the door in my face and be so blunt as they have been, since I do this for other people, for no pay. And a couple of the contributors were rude and unpleasant, so I am upset about it and will not be returning. I am one of the people around who can really inject some life blood into the 60s culture scene, and I get treated like that. Its certainly true you find out who your friends are. Never mind, I have a job to do and shall continue for the benefit of those who are interested.

Carry On Matron

Carry On Matron is just what the doctor ordered to make me smile again. It is perhaps my favourite Carry On, a classic of its kind. Hattie Jacques-"I want to be wooed", Kenneth Williams "you can be as wooed as you like with me". I think the pairing of these 2 is symbiotic comic genius manifest. Kenneth is a paranoid hypochondriac senior doctor, terrified he is suffering with every ailment under the sun. An x ray reveals he has a feminine pelvic cavity. Seeking reassurance of his "manhood" he decides he has to prove himself, and visits matron Hattie Jacques in her private room. The trouble is, she already has a man in the wardrobe, improbably enough Charles Hawtrey, who for some reason is smoking a cigar. In the wardrobe. He had been visiting matron to watch their favourite tv medical soap, but she thought something far worse would be suspected so shut him in the wardrobe when the door was knocked. See below for a great clip.

And see you next week I hope


Reading Village Green Machine's ezine. Miles Davis
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