Stky Fngrs Prt 2
All going to plan, we shall be in preproduction for The Heat’s new record today. As I write this, I have a small brown paper Moleskine book (different from my go-to black lined reporters pocket edition) on the desk next to me, edging out an Eggz shaker and a triple shot fix of caffeine. The book is open to a page marked ‘Polaroids From The House Of Leaves’ and I think that might be a title. The lyrics are there, as are those for a further three tracks. There is also a fifth song that does not yet have a title, mainly because it does not yet have lyrics and I’m not panicking at all. Words will out, at least that’s been my experience for the past twenty years or so, which is roughly how long I’ve been at this shit. There is a tiny, tiny voice at the back of my head that is adamant that words shall abstain, that I’ve already written my last ditty and that it’s all going to crash and burn. I don’t believe him, mostly. At least not today.
Lord Sony dropped a fresh trailer for ‘The Last Of Us Part II’ last week and everyone seems very obsessed with how violent it is. I don’t know. It is violent. What I mean is, I don’t know how you could do a gritty, character driven, third person, post-apocalyptic action/adventure [we could be here for a while] game about love, revenge and that/those coin(s) without getting a bit up close & personal with a shank. I think that’s part of it and I challenge anyone to be legitimately surprised, given just how intense the first part got at times. The combat was pretty great and this looks better, which surely needs to be the aim apart from a compelling story and Naughty Dog isn’t one to let us down there, as a habit. There are games that are for other people and I’m okay with that. This one might be for me and I would hope that those other people could find it under their soap boxes to live & let die. Ellie’s love interest looks as though it could be the setup for quite a fall and I look forward to seeing what happens after the After the After, if you get me and it looks like we don’t have long to wait, it coming in February and all. Oh, Joel.
M’s passion for that band known as The Rolling Stones knows no bounds. Most select, for him, is their ninth British studio record, 1971’s ‘Sticky Fingers’ (Decca), partially because the production and track list is banger - ‘Brown Sugar’, ‘Wild Horses’, ‘Can’t You Hear Me Knocking’ and that’s just side one - but mainly because of that Warhol zipper cover. I love it because it has always sounded like the Stones taking things back to basics. Sure, Bobby Keys plays a mean sax and there are any number of legit keys players on the record but Jimmy Miller, their long-time producer, cut to the heart of the band with drums, bass and guitar and it’s a zero percent fat thing. That’s the sort of thing that’s inclined to make your music age gracefully. Funnily enough, for an album that could have been a touch on the risky side at the time, it would appear as though ‘Sticky Fingers’ is doing just that.
It was also Mick Taylor’s first full run with the band and he deserves way more credit than he ended up with. Listen to ‘You Gotta Move’ and tell me I’m wrong? It’s been known but I don’t think I am in this case. It was the first step away from working with Brian and perhaps that’s why they decided to go back to their musical Delta roots and focus on their core motives as a blues band. This is the real deal - an original pressing - and there are a couple of jumps here and there on side one but it’s fine and we don’t mind that. It’s part of the buy-in. Besides, by the time you get to ‘Bitch’ on side two, you will have forgotten about whatever it was that irked you in the slightest. There is little on this record that I couldn’t live for; even slow by-any-other-standards rote numbers like ‘I Got The Blues’ are just so beautifully done and that crackle and pop doesn’t detract from that in the slightest.
This week on Channel Tmax [not a thing, it’s a gallery and you can’t just invent stuff], there’s a nice grainy bar shot nabbed in BrewDog’s place just off Brick Lane. I applied some serious crop and blew the shot up to the very fine point of disintegration, a la Haskins and I like the light. It fleeting. There are also some guitars that live in that part of the world, courtesy of the chaotic neutral spirits that inhabit Lucky Fret and - being a Jaguar man - this is probably my best wall. The canal has always been a wonderful place to walk away time in between rehearsals at Kafri, during the better weather, naturally and so you can have another one of those today. In the actual weeds, I finally caught Elias in savage flow and I'm unable to decide what it is about the positioning of his tongue that I find so disturbing and so enthralling in equal measure. Someone did ask for it and for that reason, there is a second forced candid of Syd, taken just outside the studio while he was definitely on the phone and didn’t want to be photographed at all. I’m a pain in the ass.
Mind you close the door on the way out and travel safe, ya hear?
JD - TACOCAT