It's going to take a while folks, but I'm determined to sift my way through the A-Z of Albums that have touched me or moved me in such a way that they deserve mention. There will be stuff in here from the 50's through to the present day since my musical tastes know no boundaries. Any fascism I once had regarding music has gone and left me. I hope that if you have time to spare in your busy lives to read this blog, you may one day be inspired to pick these records up and, like myself, become enlightened by the power of music.

Monday 22 February 2010

Ocean Colour Scene Moseley Shoals, Meetings, Gigs, and my mad mate Glenn




"I see double up ahead / Where the riverboat swayed beneath the sun /

Is where the river runs red........."


Ocean Colour Scene really are my band. If we are talking about a specific sound, a specific look, a certain style, and a definitive list of influences, these guys have always been on the same page as me. I'd have to list them as the band 'I grew up with.' Their music is melodic, guitar based Rock, drawing on the likes of The Who, The Small Faces, and Paul Weller. They were a vital part of the Britpop movement in the mid-nineties, and have managed longevity through the power of their anthemic songs. Steve Cradock, a long-time member of Paul Weller's touring and studio band, has somehow managed to pioneer his own wildest dreams. He has his own band of almost twenty years still making great records, and has become a close confidant of his own hero in Weller. It's a remarkable story, and one that I hope carries on for many years to come.


Ocean Colour Scene have seen several line-up changes since the making of their majestic album, Moseley Shoals, though this particular lineup - consisting of Simon Fowler, Steve Cradock, Oscar Harrison, and Damon Minchella - will always be considered their classic. Released in 1996, and named after the birthplace (Moseley) of Simon, Steve and Oscar, it went on to reach number 2 in the charts, and was voted the 33rd greatest album of all-time in a poll by Q Magazine in 1998. I first found the album after their name continually cropped up wherever Weller's did; thus I had no choice but to investigate. Also, to add to that already outstanding attribute, Chris Evans (who is in a lot of ways chiefly responsible for the band's eventual success) insisted on using The Riverboat Song as the theme tune to his hit TV programme TFI Friday, which propelled the band into the public domain. I vividly remember people at school constantly asking "who sings that song on TFI?" I suppose it was a cheats way in, but a way in all the time. God bless Chris Evans for his foresight.



I ordered Moseley Shoals through the mail order Britannia Music Club, which has a story of its own that I may one day tell, and I remember ripping the cardboard away on the night that I arrived home from school to find it lying in the porch. This was really cool shit - I'd be able to tell those people who asked the TFI question that I had the album, never mind knew who it was. Bravado aside, I had no idea the quality of the whole record that lay inside. The Riverboat Song is a thumping guitar riff of the same ilk as Satisfaction. It is what is - a great song to put on to get the adrenaline pumping before a night out, or equally as good to thrash about to when relieving some pent up, teenage frustration. The Day We Caught The Train is your typical singalong gig anthem - energetic and pumping, it confirms the album's upbeat, dynamic entrance. The Circle - which is more a songwriter's lament - is equally as commanding when sang live in the singalong sense. This band has a knack for writing songs designed for the live arena - although in that bracket, Moseley Shoals stands alone.



The beauty about this album is that there isn't a bad track in sight. Lining Your Pockets is a virtuous slow song in which Fowler sings charmingly. 40 Past Midnight is a belting, raunchy rocker. It's My Shadow demonstrates the band's alluring ability to find an enchanting chord sequence. Policemen & Pirates, which boasts superbly witty lyrics ("but it doesn't really matter / when the judgements are said / 'cos we all take our chances to find out romance is in some others bed") is sparkling and animated. The real gems in my opinion are, however, the fantastic, dreamy Fleeting Mind, which provides a platform for Cradock's ingenious guitar playing. Harrison also lays down a one-off drum track. There is also One For The Road; a moving account of a young death, and a testament to the human spirit in the aftermath. This is a tear jerker whilst filling you with a strange sense of hope. A true highlight.



The Downstream and You've Got It Bad are often overlooked, but are equally as subversive and spirited as the rest of the tracks on Moseley Shoals. The bluesy Get Away, featuring some sublime harmonica work by Fowler, is the rousing, ethereal, and in latter points crashing ending to a brilliant contemporary record. I say contemporary forgetting that it is in fact nearly fifteen years old, yet it still sounds fresh enough to have been released yesterday. Brendan Lynch, who contributed sleeve notes to the album, hinted at the power of OCS's live performance when he stated: "There's so much nuance in music, it's difficult to get it right with technology, capturing those moments that make something unique and exciting. Music is made to just go out into the air. . . . ." I have had the pleasure of seeing the band four times over the years, although to be honest they are a form band. My first experience was back in 2001 in Manchester Apollo Theatre on the mechanical wonder tour. We got drunk, sang our hearts out, bounced round in the moshpit at the front, crowd surfed, and had a thoroughly great night. The band were on fire, and I'll never forget the storming version of The Baker by The Small Faces that they ended with that night. A nod to their heroes as we nodded to ours. It was pure magic.



Our second meeting back in Sheffield City Hall in 2003 was less than impressive. Mind you, it didn't begin well when, as a young member of the student magazine, I arrived really early in search of an interview only to find Steve Cradock and Oscar Harrison wasted in the bar on Stella, arguing angrily with a security guard. Needless to say I avoided approaching them, and was less than impressed with their shabby, drunken performance. The third time I shared a room with them was five years later in 2008, again at the Manchester Apollo Theatre. This whole day became a story in itself. I went with two mates - Johnno, who can only be described as a drunk, and Glenn, who is as mad as a box of frogs, and, on the drunk front, even worse than Johnno. We arrived in Manchester very early that day - inevitably too early - and sat in the Apsley Cottage Pub next door to the Apollo ALL DAY. By tea-time we were all absolutely wrecked. Glenn was throwing ale down his neck like it was going out of fashion; me and Johnno just couldn't keep up, which is a position neither of us are used to. We had to resort to drinking shorts which fuelled the fires even more, so come 6pm we were a collective waste of space.



By this time the pub had filled full of OCS fans catching a beer before the gig, including the most disgustingly ugly, gobby bird I've ever had the displeasure of seeing in my life, who, on Glenn's rather loud and slurred instructions, decided to get her tits out in the middle of the pub. Then came 'George', the renowned, full-of-shit con artist who goes round befriending people and claiming he is collecting for a charity. He came over to tell us all how he used to be an ex-wrestler, but soon gave up when he realised we couldn't string a sentence together. Then, as if by magic, Steve Cradock himself rocked in for a pre-gig beer and ended up in a photograph with the three of us without any choice in the matter. I'd love to say the anecdotes end there, but I'm afraid not. After meeting two other mates, Rich and The Gingerbread Man, we entered the Apollo and carried on boozing heavily. At 8:50pm, ten minutes before OCS were due on stage, Glenn turned to me cross-eyed and said something like "I've no idea.....what the fuck......where am I?......I'm getting off," and preceded to zig-zag towards the exit through the crowd. I just about managed to regain my senses, stop him, and explain to him why we were there.




He must have listened because he stayed and OCS rocked the joint. A great gig, as was Steve and Simon's acoustic set in The Hard Rock Cafe, also in Manchester in 2009, where we got our memorable photo with Steve signed. The beauty is that we're all still here - Glenn included (just) - and that these nights will happen again I'm sure. Moseley Shoals is the type of record that will never lose its appeal - it is a formidable statement by a band at the height of their powers. Long may these third generation Mods reign supreme.

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