O Woe to you Oh Earth and Sea...

Following on from yesterday’s prophetic(ish) title I’m stealing from Revelations 12:12 as the introduction to what is widely regarded as one of the greatest heavy metal songs ever by a band who, in my opinion, are hard to beat as a live act. Iron Maiden’s The Number of the Beast. This is another of those records that filled my formative years. I remember buying it one lunch time, taking a £5 note to the shop around the corner from me and coming back with the album in a brown paper bag. I rushed upstairs to my folk’s bedroom, the temporary home of the record player during redecoration of the living room, and got the album on and playing loud as I could without getting in too much trouble.

The Number of the Beast opened the second side of the album, and that makes me feel old to say that! A creepy Vincent Price type voice quietly spoke the introduction of Bible quotes from the Book of Revelation before the guitar riff kicks in followed by the slightly desperate, breathy opening lines from Bruce Dickinson “I left alone, my mind was blank, I needed time to think to get the memories from my mind...” culminating at the end of the first verse in a very guttural scream.

As you can imagine in the early 80s our conservative cousins across the pond decided that this was all terribly demonic, a celebration of evil sent to corrupt the youth and eat puppies...or something. There were many protests to disrupt the supporting tour in the States and declarations of the band being “Satanists”. So what’s the song actually about? Well it’s was inspired by two things. One was a nightmare about being trapped in Hell that the band’s bassist (and founding member) Steve Harris had after watching a horror film and then based it around the story told in Robert Bruce’s 18th century poem Tam o’Shanter. It is certainly a tale of warning, of being trapped by the evil he sees but is unable to decide is just his imagination or something that is actually happening to him. To me it’s a song that works in it’s simple storytelling style coupled with Bruce giving an appropriate voice reflecting the emotions of the character from the disbelief through frustration and fear and finally to vengeance once he is finally trapped.

So what about the band? Iron Maiden certainly aren’t the darlings of the airwaves. They’ve never had a lot of airplay yet still managed to sell over 70 million records and sell out tour after tour after tour over the last 30 odd years. What do they have? For me it’s the fact that they are pretty much the man in the street. They have no egos to speak of and are not spoken of in the press as scandal makers mired in drink, drugs, woman and everything else that gets tied up with the Rock n Roll machine. For many years now they’ve taken their families on tour with them and even held paying jobs! Bruce Dickinson is a qualified commercial pilot and works for Astraeus airlines. This led to a tour in which the band chartered a 757 (Ed Force One), piloted by Bruce, where they could take the show to places that in the past bands could never get to (mainly due to the accountants). I met Bruce at Sheffield railway station on the afternoon they were playing at the City Hall. I was sat waiting for some friends passing the time drinking coffee and reading my book. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a chap in a bright orange jacket walk past me and meet with his wife and youngster who were sat behind me. I was certainly rather taken aback at this as it’s not what you expect from such big stars.

They now have a line up with three guitarists Dave Murray who has pretty much been there since the start, Adrian Smith and Janick Gers so have a really great, deep sound and with the longer songs there is plenty of space in them for all their skills to be heard. Nicko McBrain has been playing the drums with them since 1982 – and he really can play! Nicko certainly makes it into the top ten percussionists for me and is looked upon by other drummers as an influence – Tommy Lee (Motley Crue) once described him as an octopus after watching him play. I remember Nicko appearing on the Sooty Show (Sooty was a hand puppet) when Sooty wanted to start a band. Since then a Sooty puppet has regularly attached to the front of his kit.

The last member of the band is Steve Harris. Steve started the band in 1975 and is certainly a very strong driving force. He has written the lion’s share of the song and lyrics with a myriad of subjects and influences. From the books of Dune by Frank Herbert (To Tame A Land), Poetry (Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Dance of Death), Wars (Tailgunner, The Trooper, Paschendale), religious zealotry (Holy Smoke, Montségur) to fantasy/sci-fi type numbers (Seventh Son of a Seventh Son). Steve also has a readily recognisable sound from the flat-wound strings he uses (and changes daily to keep the bright sound). Many of the bass lines gallop along – very appropriately demonstrated in The Trooper about the Charge of the Light Brigade.

I’ve seen Maiden play many, many times. I first saw them in 1988 when they headed the bill at the Monsters of Rock festival at Donington. I’ve seen them in places like Whitley Bay Ice Rink, Wembley Arena and Sheffield City Hall and never, ever been disappointed. From the second they hit the stage to the final encore you know they are giving it everything they’ve got.

Now I’m 22 years older than my first concert experience with them and now my kids are regularly exposed to Iron Maiden in the car, my eldest has Can I Play with Madness as a ring tone on her mobile phone and they’ve watched the videos on YouTube and from DVDs. So I’m really looking forward to the end of next month when we go away to the Sonisphere Festival at Knebworth as Maiden are closing it out on the Sunday night. I have a feeling they are not going to disappoint.



Woe to You Oh Earth and Sea for the Devil sends the beast with wrath
because he knows the time is short


Let him who have understanding reckon the number of the beast
for it is a human number its number is six hundred and sixty six.


I left alone my mind was blank
I needed time to think to get the memories from my mind
What did I see?  Could I believe?
That what I saw that night was real and not just fantasy
Just what I saw in my own dreams
were they reflections of my warped mind staring back at me?
'Cause in my dreams it's always there
the evil face that twists my mind and brings me to despair


Night was black was no use holding back
'Cause I just had to see was someone watching me

In the mist dark figures move and twist
was all this for real or just some kind of hell
6-6-6 the Number of the Beast
Hell and fire were spawned to be released


Torches blazed and sacred chants were praised
as they start to cry hands held to the sky

In the night the fires are burning bright
the ritual has begun Satan's work is done
6-6-6 the Number of the Beast
Sacrifice is going on tonight

This can't go on I must inform the Lord
Can this still be real or just some crazy dream?
but I feel drawn towards the chanting hordes
seem to mesmerise...can't avoid their eyes
6-6-6 the Number of the Beast
6-6-6 the one for you and me

I'm coming back I will return
And I'll possess your body and I'll make you burn
I'll have the fire I'll have the force
I'll have the power to make my evil take its course

Nostrodamus Ate My Hamster

I’ve been musing about another book to write about but I’m unable to chose just the one from this author. So I’m going to write about him instead! I always remember reading a comment in, I think, The Time Literary Supplement which suggested that everyone should at least read one of his books in their life time. My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen I give you from the Order of the Golden Sprout Mr Robert Rankin.

(the orignal image and other great images can be found here)

Whilst living in the East End of London a chap by the name of Tony, who attended the same martial arts class, recommended a trilogy of books in a sci-fi/fantasy/humour genre worth reading. These were The Antipope, The Brentford Triangle, East of Ealing and the Sprouts of Wrath. Yes, there are now more books in what is known as The Brentford Trilogy but these were the first ones I read. The stories are based around the London Borough of Brentford (over to the west) and the home of Robert Rankin. The main participants in the various odd goings on are two anti-heroes, John Omally and Jim Pooley, who seem to spend most of their time in the bar of the Flying Swan. It’s tough to describe in a short(ish) blog post the bizarre situations that the two seem to find themselves in.

These books set the scene for the ones that follow. They are a heady mix of insane characters from Hugo Rune, a Guru’s Guru through to Neville, the full time part time barman of the Flying Swan via Elvis and Barry, a time-travelling sprout who lives in Elvis’ head. The tales themselves using urban tales, conspiracies and bizarre locations to drive the reader onwards wondering who on Earth he’s going to pull an ending together! There are many, many running gags that extend across the tales as though they are a tradition or an old charter or something and an obsession with the small green vegetable, the Brussels Sprout. He also uses the art and style of steampunk in some of his novels. Steampunk being that “alternate” reality where steam is still king. The machines are reminiscent of something that would have been built during the Victorian era (and you would probably find in the writings of H G Wells or Jules Verne).

I certainly think the first books are the place to start but amongst the others I particularly like are the Armageddon series (Armageddon: The Musical, They Came and Ate Us (Armageddon II: The B Movie), and The Suburban Book of the Dead (Armageddon III: The Remake), Sex and Drugs and Sausage Rolls and A Dog Called Demolition.

The great man himself is celebrated by his fanclub – The Order of the Golden Sprout. His biographies on the book covers as humorous (and ludicrous) as the stories themselves. He describes the style of writing as “Far Fetched Fiction” in the hope of getting his own section in the book shops. I live in hope that Robert’s work shall eventually be spoken of in the same circles as his contemporary author (and resident man of wackiness) Terry Pratchett. However, I suspect that his works are never going to grab the general public quite like the novels of the Discworld.

You don't get as long for murder!

Happy Anniversary to my Mum and Dad!  50 - yes 50 whole years!

Now I only had to live with them for 20 years so I know that managing 50 years (600 months) is more than pretty good going.  Yep - 18,262 whole days of being together!  Three wonderful, talented, intelligent kids.  6 and 8/9ths grandchildren (all completely barking in their own ways and I'm sure that the upcoming arrival isn't going to be breaking that mould!).

So what can I say about them.  Speaking for myself - and I'm sure my siblings will agree - they have been great parents.  They've had to put up with the three of us who've all been made strong willed and pretty stubbon at times but still have fostered a strong sense of family.  We've had our disagreements (small and large) but that's all they've ever been.  Nothing ever seemed to last for a long time, grudges were not held.

Our house always seemed to be full of friends coming and going.  I'd hate to imagine how many meals and drinks have been happily shared over the years.  Many times, especially during summer, there would be three sets of friends descending like locusts on the supplies.  Again, something I think we've all taken away with us and made us pretty good grown ups (well as grown up as we get!).

But they've been there during the tough times too for us.  We've never felt like we were alone with a problem - they would do what they could for us.  We couldn't ask for more than that and are very grateful for it.  Sometimes we don't express it as clearly as we should and personally I often feel that I wish I could do much more than I do as I don't think I can adequately repay everything they've done.

So, Happy Anniversary to you both - I hope you have a good day and I think we're all looking forward to getting the family together in one place this weekend.

Summertime

It's that time of year again. The sun is out, the temperature is rising, clothes are shrinking and getting thinner and seasonal songs are getting played on the radio.
The song I always listen out for to singnal the start of summer is that great song by Don Henley, Boys of Summer (The music was written by Mike Campbell from Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.)  I remember buying the 7" single in the record shop, that now dying breed of retail outlet. I spent many hours in the record shops, flicking through the racks of vinyl searching for something to catch my eye. If it did I'd pluck it out of the rack and, if it wasn't too busy, I'd ask the guy behind the counter to play some of it for me. Those independent record shops were a treat. They always had an ambience to them. You know that the guy behind the counter, usually with coffee in hand, was there because they were an enthusiast too. An aficionado of music. They were someone that you could ask questions of. They would order you that obscure record from the thick catalogue behind the counter. They were always much more than a simple shop. See, I’m off on a tangent again!



The Boys of Summer was released in October 1984. This is one of the reasons that I always listen out for as the weather changes – it’s so out of place! Other summer songs are always bright and bouncy, enticing listeners to frolic and catch the rays whilst Boys of Summer is much more haunting.
The theme of the song is an introspective. A change between the ages of man, youth to middle age (a good reason that it means more to me as the years go on), and looking back. It also speaks of that permanence of emotion in the hook line of the chorus “My love for you will still be strong, After the Boys of Summer are gone”. When it first came out it struck a chord with the 15 year old me. I wondered about relationships, watched girls I was too shy to speak to spending time with the boys on holiday, thinking that I could, and would, offer that feeling for more than just a few weeks. Ah, that imagination of youth!
It is, without doubt, one of my favourite songs. I saw the Eagles playing Wembley Stadium in 1996. They were supported by the excellent Kenny Wayne Shepherd – a fantastic young blues player. Glenn Frey, Joe Walsh and Don Henley all performed a couple of numbers from their solo material. Needless to say this song was performed and pretty much made my day.



Nobody on the road
nobody on the beach
I feel it in the air
the summer's out of reach
Empty lake, empty streets,
the sun goes down alone
I'm drivin' by your house
Though I know you're not home

I can see you
Your brown skin shinin' in the sun
You got your hair combed back and your
sunglasses on, baby
And I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
after the boys of summer have gone

I never will forget those nights
I wonder if it was a dream
Remember how you made me crazy?
Remember how I made you scream?
Now I don't understand
what's happened to our love,
But babe I'm gonna get you back
I'm gonna show you what I'm made of

I can see you
Your brown skin shinin' in the sun
I see you walkin' real slow and you're
smilin' at everyone
I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
after the boys of summer have gone

Out on the road today
I saw a deadhead sticker on a Cadillac
A little voice inside my head said,
"Don't look back. You can never look back."
I thought I knew what love was,
what did I know?
Those days are gone forever
I should just let them go but

I can see you
Your brown skin shinin' in the sun
You got that top pulled down and that
radio on baby
And I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
after the boys of summer have gone


I can see you
Your brown skin shinin' in the sun
You got that hair slicked back and those
wayfarers on, baby
I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
after the boys of summer have gone