VIV STANSHALL & SEAN HEAD SHOWBAND -Labio-Dental Fricative

(PS)

Much has already been written elsewhere about the bizarre and unpredictable career of Viv Stanshall, with good reason. His best-known work with the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band was, if never really ground-breaking, frequently interesting and highly amusing; especially with belters like Can Blue Men Sing the Whites? which brilliantly skewered the late 60s British blues boom, or the Noel Harrison-esque Canyons of Your Mind which took that poetic imagery one step further from the ridiculous to the sublime. During a Bonzo’s hiatus, his short-lived bIG Grunt project was one of the oddest things ever broadcast on TV and went to prove that Stanshall wasn’t pretending to be a loon, or hamming it up for effect: he really was that odd to his very core. 

Released in February of 1970 Labio-dental Fricative came shortly before the bIG Grunt episode and I love it because, much like Stanshall himself, it doesn’t really fit anywhere. It sort of has one foot in either decade, straddling the 60s and 70s; perched on some sort of fence separating them like Mr Slater’s Parrot, bobbing its head between the two. Also Stanshall and Clapton weren’t exactly natural bedfellows, how the hell did that collaboration come about? 

The song has the hallmark of Stanshall’s irreverent Bonzo lyrics, with the alliterative tongue twisters tripping along like an Edward Lear poem, but still rooted in the 60s with lines like “Big fat Fred sticks fur to his head, cos he thinks fur makes him freaky”. Silly, but great fun. The line “I got up at eight, it was half-past two” is also perhaps a window into Stanshall’s personal situation – I mean, we’ve all been there after a heavy night out, but you get the sense it was more a way of life for him. And when was the last time Max Bygraves got a namecheck in a pop song? Over the other side of the fence and there’s a vague sense of the nascent 70s vibe coming through as well, with the Willie and the Hand Jive-type chucka-chucka sound that became all too familiar with Clapton’s early-mid 70s records; but there’s that middle eight right next to it that absolutely reeks of the late 60s with its dream-like lyrics, leading into a solo that wouldn’t have sounded out of place on the Blind Faith LP from the previous year (by the way, those who say that album was a failure couldn’t be more wrong, it’s a masterpiece).

Incidentally some may see this as sacrilegious but I regard this as one of Clapton’s last decent recordings, released some months before his first solo LP and Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs. Evidently hitting the hard stuff during his time with Derek & the Dominos and his subsequent crippling coke & booze addictions took their toll in terms of quality output. People may argue he released material worth listening to after 1970, but again, they’re largely wrong. Anyway, back to the single: of course, it didn’t trouble the charts; the record-buying public’s mind was elsewhere. Perhaps it was asking for trouble being released on Friday 13th, but it was nowhere near the zeitgeist of the period; for comparison, Black Sabbath’s debut album was released the same day and it's hard to find an LP that better sums up the mood of 1970 than that one. I don’t care though, I love it – it’s joyous, silly, fun and makes me grin from ear to ear whenever it comes on (ok, whenever I put it on). There’s not enough genuine eccentricity in music for my money, everyone seems to be engaged in some sort of vain popularity contest. And when did that turn up anything interesting?

(MS)

And here's an excerpt from " Frank and The Captain's Big Night Out" with Terry-Thomas on vocals!!

THE SPECIALS - I Can't Stand It

 (MS)

In the summer of ’81, we had a family holiday on the Broadwater Farm Estate in north London. The previous summer Jerry Dammers had filled that big gap in his smile with this delightful swing into Muzak; a song that somehow manages to be both genuinely affecting and wilfully ironic. 

A highlight of the More Specials LP it commenced the exploratory direction he would soon be sending his re-imagined Special AKA Orkestra and at Wood Green Shopping City I first heard it via a Twofer Double-play cassette that combined it with the band’s eponymous first LP. Guest vocalist Rhoda Dakar sings this in a pastiche call and response (ED: not really) like a shell-shocked bar maid who’s just been asked to fill-in 'cos the singer's not feeling very well, but she carries it off with un-tutored aplomb. For years I thought she was the girl ambling about the Leamington Spa canteen pictured on the LP sleeve but it’s not her. That slight warble in her throat gives a foretaste to the unspeakable horrors so graphically outlined in the following year’s “The Boiler”, one of the more unlikely singles to grace the top 40 and not one I’d recommend listening to late at night. At the other end of the duet is Terry Hall the monotone-faced blank expression of the whole Coventry scene. A Fun Boy One grimly drifting on towards the terrible revelations he would later reveal about a valium-numbed childhood induced by abuse at the hands of an international paedophile ring. Bookended by the dark lounge of “Stereotypes” and “International Jet Set” the song is best heard as part of the bigger concept of the LP, which like all the best things can be viewed as having if not an all embracing theme…at least an all-embracing mood. But in isolation there is much to enjoy in those Pearl & Dean backing vocals, Jimmy Smith organ stabs and the verdant and intoxicating jungle ambience of the exotica rhythm track. I often reflect that a few years later all the Twofer Double-play cassettes got looted from Wood Green Shopping City.

Anyway thanks for this one Rhoda.

(JF)

As usual from The Specials a great sound full of energy and you can understand why they remain a popular live act to this day. It can be no coincidence that the group had several black British members and it is interesting to reflect on the musicality and politics of the personnel.  Without them I suspect it might be the case that the social consciousness of the sound would be reduced to a rant, reducing the band to more of a cult sound. The songs are delivered in the usual sardonic fashion associated with the band and I think this in itself is part of The Specials mass appeal and longevity

(PS)

Hmmmm... This came at me out of left field somewhat, so I’ve had to quickly scrabble into the late 70s/early 80s section of my vinyl and give it a dust off. Finding only the first Specials LP there, I gave that a couple of spins and then followed it up with an introduction to the second LP online… and at this stage, I remain unconvinced. 

When I think about what defines The Specials for me, it’s those earlier tracks that spring to mind (Rudy, TMTY – although definitely the live version over the album one), with the addition of the non-LP single Ghost Town… those were great, memorable songs that get your toes tapping and fingers popping even 40 years on. More Specials had less of those for me, possibly because of the new musical directions the band took after their debut. 

I get why a band would want to do something different on their second LP, in fact that should be widely applauded – but I do feel that some of the tangents taken on More… were less successful than others, and I Can’t Stand It is one of those lesser ones to my ears. Firstly, it seems like a couple of different songs stitched together: I like the opening bass riff and drum pattern, but after it all goes a bit bossa nova it stops working for me. Also the structure of the song is a bit sprawling, with the vocal lines and harmonies getting lost at times. The melody isn’t catchy enough and the whole thing seems neither here nor there, ending on a bit of a whimper with the goodnights from Rhoda and Terry… maybe that’s the point of the song, but it just felt a bit ‘meh’ to me. 

Where I think the new directions on the LP do work, songs like Rat Race, Sock it To ‘Em JB and Pearl’s Café – by the way, the latter’s refrain of “It’s all a load of bollocks” could’ve been written & sung by our very own GV – there’s a kind of South London vibe flowing through them that gives it them a real charm. Enjoy Yourself would’ve been a highlight too, if Jools Holland hadn’t permanently ruined it for me – I can hardly blame that on the band, but still.  

I’m afraid that the easy listening sound just didn’t do it for me though.