Exciting developments today. Here’s what came in the mail:
And here’s what I did to celebrate:
To the small number of you unfamiliar with the to-ing and fro-ing involved in releasing short runs of vinyl, the pressing plant always send a few test copies of any forthcoming release (five in this case) to whoever is ‘responsible’ (love that word) for producing it, before ploughing ahead with the order. This is so you can listen carefully to their work so far and ensure that there are no errors or faults with the record and that your own high standards have been maintained. A kind of Man-From-Del-Monte sort-of scenario (if you’re old enough to remember that – which I’m not), which means it’s extremely important to listen to each copy very carefully on as many different turntables as possible. This would explain why I’ve just returned from barging into Hannah Brown’s house and commandeering her hi-fi. You remember her? She took all the amazing photographs for the Ghosts Of Bush promotional video. Here it is again:
I know, I know, you’ve already seen it. But it’s almost at 1,000 views now and I’m really hoping it will tip over the edge sometime soon, as these days having a thousand of anything is something to shout about. Thanks again, Hannah. Sorry for spoiling your dinner.
Returning to the subject of vinyl, thanks also go out to all of you who have reserved your copy by email, it will be put aside for you (along with a pretty reasonable discount) once the stock arrives and I’ll send further instruction. For those of you still wishing to reserve a copy, please send an email to robinthefog at gmail dot com with the subject ‘Vinyl Please!’ I’m giving you until the end of this week to do so. After that you’ll have to pay full-whack like everyone else!
“Here’s a weird thing. This is weird. This is just weird…” So begins another exciting chapter in the snowballing tale of hauntological tribute album The Ghosts Of Bush.
In an attempt to clarify, let me first pose a conundrum: What’s the connection between Cliff Richard‘s ‘The Young Ones’ and Christina Perri‘s ‘Jar Of Hearts’?
The answer, I’m incredibly proud to report, is FOG! But how is this possible? Have I been named-checked by David Letterman? Have I ruined Wimbledon for everyone again? The actual answer is far more exciting:
Last week I received an email from one Mr. Alan Clifford of BBC Radio Nottingham. Alan is BBC Radio Nottingham’s drivetime presenter, announces his biog, but once upon a time he did farmyard impressions for a living. ‘Well, that’s good enough for me’, I thought, and read on to discover that listening to the album had apparently re-awakened some long-dormant ghost of his own days in Bush House; and that he had been kind enough to talk about the release and play a couple of extracts on a recent edition of his show. Needless to say I’m hugely grateful, especially as my list of things I thought would never happen almost certainly includes becoming a staple of drive-time FM radio or indeed the filling in a Cliff Richard and Christina Perri sandwich. Alan, I salute you! Listen to him weekdays at 16.00 on BBC Radio Nottingham, via FM, DAB or the internet!
Then, in a development possibly even more exciting than sharing a playlist with the man who brought us ‘Wired For Sound’, I was interviewed by one Laurie Tuffrey of award-winning magazine The Quietus as part of a very complimentary feature on the album, which you can read in full here, but of which a short extract follows, just in case you’re in a hurry:
[A]tmospheric noises are slowed down and looped, with the help of some of the World Service’s ancient reel-to-reels, to form a piece of beautiful, warm spatial exploration. Chords swell and harmonic patterns emerge out of the building’s crepuscular creaking or Robin’s whistling, using the labyrinthine Portland stone corridors of the building, at one time the most expensive in the world, as a giant reverb tank.
With one of the predominant trends in British experimental music over the past decade frequently tapping into the BBC’s sonic history – both in terms of its broadcast content and the pioneering work of the Radiophonic Workshop – The Ghosts Of Bush House feels like an unusually direct take on the ‘hauntological’ spaces mapped by the likes of Ghost Box, Mordant Music and Demdike Stare. That it’s specifically linked to the World Service, a hugely important aspect of the BBC’s broadcasting remit for the past eight decades, lends it an unusually forceful emotional resonance.
As if that wasn’t enough, Mr. Simon Reynolds one of all my all-time favourite music writers and the genius responsible for such classic works as ‘Energy Flash’ and, more recently, ‘Retromania’, picked up on the Quietus article and featured it on his own highly respected Blissblog, speculating that‘[Ghosts of Bush] may well be the ultimate hauntological artifact’.
You hear that? ULTIMATE!
Thank you, Laurie! Thank you Simon! And speaking of Ghost Box….
I’m quite sure many of my regular visitors will already have accumulated a decent wedge of the Ghost Box back catalogue, having been drawn in by their distinctive aesthetic, both musical and visual that recalls clunky public information films about the dangers of throwing frisbees into substations; or those slightly surreal programmes for schools with titles such as ‘Science in Action’ that I’m just about old enough to remember. Suffice to say that their reputation in the hauntological field proceeds them (though I believe they shy away from the term) and that if you’re going to put out a record that falls somewhere near their remit, you’re going to want them in your corner.
So you can imagine just how excited I was to discover the Very Rev Jim Jupp, label co-founder and creative force behind Belbury Poly has featured the album in his much admired Belbury Parish Magazine! He writes:
“The Ghosts of Bush” is a beautiful monument to the work of the World Service during its 70 year tenure here and more importantly perhaps to this awe inspiring building. Declared the most expensive building in the world when it was built in 1929 and said to be the inspiration for Orwell’s Ministry of Truth. The soundscape is more mournful than ghostly to my ears, really capturing a sense of loss – with beautiful moments when mechanical and ambient sounds swell out with an almost choral or orchestral feel. All the more impressive when you consider no artificial reverbs or other digital effects were used. I get the sense that this love letter to a building has been recorded and presented with great humility by Robin – light on concepts, ego, mission statements and artifice (unlike a GB project ) and topped off with a pleasingly daft tip of the hat to Eno and Byrne in the title”.
‘Although not an official BBC recording, I think its fair to say that this may be the very last piece of true Radiophonics that will ever be produced’.
Did you hear that as well? TRUE RADIOPHONICS!
Jim Jupp – his word truly is gospel
These are by far some of the nicest things anyone has ever said about my work. It really is enough to make a chap’s head swell. Even in the time it’s taken to write this I’ve just discovered DJ Food has also been blogging about the project too. Good grief!
I’m going to have to send out a lot of thank-you letters, including one to Estonia, where Tiit Kusnets added two tracks from the album to a recent edition of Fantaasia, a nightly live show on top Estonian Radio (E.R.R)’s Klassikaraadio channel that ‘ventures out into the realms of World Music, jazz, creative pop and rock, electronics and beyond’; and is available Mondays through Fridays, 2200 EEST. A broadcaster himself of some twenty year’s standing, Tiit very kindly emailed to share some fond memories of listening to the World Service back in the 80s and 90s, including jazz and pop/rock in both Russian and English, particularly the late John Peel: ‘Just 30 minutes every week of him’, he writes, ‘but even that was something really extraordinary back then…’ Would he still find such a wealth of eclectic programming on The World Service today? Hmm, I wonder.
I’d like to doff my cap in gratitude to all of the above and to everyone else who’s listened to the album, ordered a download, pre-ordered a vinyl copy or just got in touch and said hello. We’ve raised quite a bit for chosen charity BBC Media Action so far, so please keep spreading the word. As for me, I’m off for a cigar and a lie-down. All this excitement has gone straight to my head….
Hello. It’s been rather a long time since I last wrote, and to the small-but-vocal minority who demand regular updates on my waking moments, I can only apologise.
But the fact is, everything’s been a bit of a blur, almost entirely as a result of the closure of Bush House on July 12th, and the corresponding release of my tribute album ‘The Ghosts Of Bush’. Tracks from the album have received airplay on Resonance FM (always first on the list!!), Radio 4‘s Broadcasting House and my two favourite 6Music programmes, Gideon Coe and Stuart Maconie’s Freak Zone. It turned out that Gideon was himself a staffer at Bush House not so long ago and on the building’s historic final day opted to close his show and the day’s programming with an extract from ‘London Ta Ke Kira’.
In addition there were plugs for the album on the Today Programme and The World Today, as well as a slide show on the BBC World Service website featuring the photography of Bogdan Frymorgen and a re-adapted version of Emma Crowe’s ‘Bush House Nights’ with an extract from my stairwell recordings floating away in the background like a sort of ghostly undertow. Provided they haven’t taken it down yet, it should be available by clicking here.
Moving on, for those of you not already well-versed in Arabic, have you ever wondered what your voice would sound like translated into that noble language? Well, thanks to BBC Arabic cultural programme ‘XTRA’ running a feature on ‘The Ghosts Of Bush’, I finally got to find out. This could well be the proudest single moment of my career to date, and huge thanks to super-producer Rihab Khatab for making it happen. I’m thinking of starting some sort of campaign to have my voice translated into as many languages as possible, what do you reckon?
And still there’s more! In addition to all this very welcome exposure, positive feedback has been pouring in by the sack-load. Here are just a select few of my favourites:
“..Just listened to your thing on 6music and it went well with breastfeeding, in case you need to know.” – Ein Petit Gibbon
“Proper authentic Radiophonic Workshop vibes, what’s not to like?” –Datassette, Ai Records etc.
“By making this album, […] you went from being a bloke who works at the BBC to being part of its creative legacy.” – Qntm Ntvs, Mantile Records etc.
“Evocative” – Peter Horrocks, Director of Global News, BBC
“Robin The Frog? I’m going to write that down” – The Kronos Quartet – ALLEGEDLY
“Some tracks, particularly the first one, have quite large DC offsets on them. […] Best regards and good luck” – STEVE
So, with all this excitement I’ve decided that what’s really required here is a limited run on VINYL. Indeed I’m delighted to announce that The Fog Signals will shortly release a very limited run of 200 LPs with full colour sleeves and deep, dark, haunting grooves in which to place your needle. As we speak the lacquers have been cut and I’m awaiting the arrival of test pressings. And just in case that wasn’t excitement enough, here’s a sneak preview of the sleeve, using the beautiful photography of Lisa Hack:
More news to follow soon, much more hopefully. In the meantime, is it too much to hope that all of this activity might result in some sort of trophy? I need something for the mantlepiece…
Recent listeners to ‘The World Today’ on BBC World Service might just have heard some curious noises escaping their radio sometime around breakfast. Radio producer and fellow World Service denizen Emma Crowe has produced a wonderful sonic portrait of a night spent at Bush House, exploring the depths of the building and talking to some of the people who have called the place home over the years. Including this one guy she found mucking about in the basement:
This is merely an extract from a much longer piece, which I have cut out purely for selfish promotional reasons; and I urge you to listen to the full eight minutes, which can be found here.
But what become of all that subterranean, nocturnal sonic tinkering, I hear a small-but-vocal minority cry? Well, after six months, numerous tape-related blow-outs, several worried phone calls from the control room, a lot of scrubbing powdery oxide residue from various appendages (hands, mostly), an awful lot of 5am tea from the canteen plus a few jumpings out of my skin thanks to unexpected visitors (who knew that the bins needed emptying at that hour?), here’s the finished product, my tribute to the building – Ghosts Of Bush:
I designed the cover using photographs by Lisa Hack and Hannah Brown. I am very lucky to know so many talented people!
Entirely produced on site at Bush House, using field recordings made within the hallowed hallways, two elderly reel-to-reel machines and not that much else, I’m happy to say that it’s now ready for your perusal, and is also the second official release on my newly-launched micro-record label ‘The Fog Signals’. Some might call it a vanity label, but I’ve long-since stopped inviting those people round my house.
To accompany the album I’ve also produced this video using the sounds of Bush House and the beautiful photography of Hannah Brown, celebrated lomographer, designer, blogger, DJ and all-round good egg. Her own website is http://wowandflutterblog.blogspot.co.uk. Why not pay her a visit? Actually, let’s watch the video first:
On a serious note, all proceeds from the sales of ‘Ghosts Of Bush’ will be donated to the charity BBC Media Action (formerly The World Service Trust), supporting their work empowering communities and transforming lives around the world through broadcasting, which I think we can all agree is a most worthy and appropriate cause. Incidentally, if anyone would be willing to assist with promotion of this album through sharing contacts or spreading the word, please do get in touch. I’ve included the Press Release here, just in case you’re one of those people that loves to read press releases, as I don’t doubt for the slightest second that you are:
Ghosts Of Bush’ was created entirely using the natural acoustic sounds of Bush House, the iconic home for the past seven decades of the BBC World Service which will shortly be closing its doors for the last time. All of the sounds were captured in the small hours of the morning in empty offices, corridors, stairwells and other hidden corners by a Studio Manager working overnight. These recordings were then dubbed onto quarter-inch tape in the basement studio deep in the bowels of the South-East wing using two of the surviving reel-to-reel machines.
Adjusting the playback speed of the spools and ‘bouncing’ the recordings between the two tape machines lead to the discovery of a number of interesting phrases and sound textures which were then looped, layered and fashioned into rough compositions. Over time the tape would start to degrade and alter the nature of the sounds, while occasional echo was created by recording and playing various loops simultaneously, feeding the sound back into itself. The entire album was produced using these simple methods, and no other effects or studio trickery have been used. Thanks to the sonorous quality of Bush House’s Portland stone walls and high ceilings, the natural resonance of the space was all that was needed.
When talking of historic buildings it’s become something of a cliché to say ‘If these walls could speak…’ I like to think that on ‘Ghosts Of Bush’ we come close to hearing them sing!
I hope that this album not only captures the size and the grandeur of this now largely empty building, but also a sense of its history too. As well as being produced in a rapidly disintegrating studio using equipment that was decommissioned years ago, buried deep within the mix are call-signs or ‘idents’ from a number of the BBC’s Language services, many of which have also closed down in recent years. By working in this way I wanted to create a sense of poignancy in the gradual winding-down of Bush House’s facilities, the emptying of its spaces and the departure of its people, as well as commenting on the passing of time and the impermanence of all things.
This very personal project was created partly to mark the dying days of a bygone era, as a last hurrah for obsolete equipment and a studio that will soon fall silent forever. It’s the sound of many sleepless nights spent isolated in a labyrinthine basement surrounding by a crepuscular soundtrack of creaks and crackles. It’s an attempted homage to the work of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop who crafted the most incredible of sound-worlds from the most basic of sources. But mostly it’s my way of saying goodbye to a building that I and so many people have loved. A former hive of industry that now stands almost deserted. I really hope that on this album the listener gets a sense of all these things.
Robin The Fog, June 2012
The best feedback so far? A comment from one listener that I had earned my ‘Radiophonic Workshop Badge’! High praise indeed! So, there we have it. Six months work and finally it’s out there. Perhaps now I can at last get round to tidying my room?
Well, one step at a time…
Geeky post-script: As you can see, I’ve broken the album down into six tracks to make it more palatable, although really it’s supposed to be consumed as two separate sides of continuous music. For that very reason there will be a limited cassette run in that not-too-distant future, so keep your ears peeled if, like me, you hate the slight jump that occurs when skipping between tracks that are supposed to flow into each other. Indeed, if you have already downloaded a copy of the album yourself and are finding that very thing irksome, then get in touch and I’ll send you an additional copy of the album as two separate files. Or a cassette. Whichever you prefer.
After all that excitement last week involving my rapidly growing Norwegian fanbase, it’s time to hurry up and finally put this whole Bush House album to bed. It’s probably just as well that the project is drawing to a close as poor old Studio S6 is on it’s last legs. I’m the only one that goes down there now, and something else tends to fall off every time I pay a visit (I’m referring to the studio, of course). Anyway, here’s a tantalising glimpse from today’s ‘Ghosts Of Bush’ mastering session. Though I’m sad to see the studio go, it does cheer me slightly to think that these will most likely be the last sounds this old desk ever makes:
I know, I know. It’s only 35 seconds. But seriously, have you ever tried sitting still for that long? Plus my camera has a tendency to get upset if I make it do anything for longer than that. Anyway, here it is, the master tape! I think we could well be finished!
I’m sending this off to the manufacturers first thing Monday morning. I just hope they have a machine that will play it…
I know that a week or so ago I perhaps stretched the boundaries of plausibility and even the patience of my legions of admirers by suggesting that I might have been on the front page of The Wire, when in fact it was somewhat further inside the issue; but I maintain that this was hardly bending the truth, merely flicking it back a few pages, and that there really was no call for certain individuals to start throwing the F-WORD* about so liberally. Anyway, now the smoke has had several days to clear, I’m hoping it won’t affect the public reception of my latest absolute non-whopper. Last month I not only did (really, genuinely) appear in The Wire, I also briefly and even more genuinely appeared on the Norwegian equivalent of Radio 4! You could NOT make that up!
How is this possible? Well, it began as these things so often do with my hiding in a basement all afternoon. A few weeks ago I was down in my usual place in the bowels of Bush House tinkering with some loops (not, license-fee payers take note, at the expense of something I was actually supposed to be doing); when I was surprised to receive a visit from one Trygve Sørvaag, a freelance journalist and managing director of the London-based Scandinavian Press Agency. He was working on a piece about the World Service leaving Bush House for Norwegian programme ‘Ekko’, a two-hour daily show focusing on science, history and society; and to that end was being given a tour of the building’s hidden corners. Well, although you can probably hear in the following extract that I clearly wasn’t expecting visitors and hadn’t yet got round to memorising (or indeed writing) the press release, spooling up a few sounds for his approval was the work of a moment. Here’s how it went out:
I’m very proud indeed to have been featured in the programme, but entirely selfishly have included here just my own small part in a feature that was actually over twenty minutes long and proved a fascinating listen even if, like me, your language skills aren’t up to the job. Speaking of which, Trygve has kindly provided a translation for his voiceover, which I include below partly for clarification and partly to prove that at no point does he refer to me as ‘this idiot hiding downstairs who claimed he was in The Wire’:
This is the sound of another BBC employee saying goodbye to Bush House […] Studio Manager RW has recorded the natural sounds in the old building. A creaking door handle on 5th floor and the peculiar resonance in the marmot stone at 4am when the building is quiet. […] The recordings are then played back on old tape machines and repeated in various speeds. This is how a “sound man” [meaning sound engineer] says goodbye to Bush House.
Trygve tells me that this piece was commissioned by NRK (The Norwegian Broadcasting Cooperation) and that this edition of ‘Ekko’ was broadcast on their channel ‘P2‘ (roughly the equivalent of our own dear Radio 4 – perhaps we could even call it Radio Fjord – actually, no that’s rubbish) on 25th May 2012. If you’d like to hear the whole thing it was made available on iTunes as a free podcast, which should hopefully still be available by clicking here. But for now my huge thanks go out to Trygve for including me in his programme and I urge you to go and visit his website. Partly because the man has a list of credentials as long as your arm with over fifteen years working as a journalist, broadcaster and photographer for Norwegian Radio, Sky News TV and more; and partly because he’s looking for someone to help him re-design it!
Meanwhile, work on my Bush House project is now entering the final phase, which is just as well, as Bush House is entering a final phase of it’s own. In less than a month I’ll be leaving for the last time. Fortunately my beloved basement studio hasn’t fallen silent just yet, although I did come quite close to blowing the speakers late last Friday evening while working on this latest piece. It’s made using an ident from the opening of the BBC Cantonese Service’s weekly programme and all the sounds were created by running the Greenwich Time Signal through my faithful old tapeloop, which has probably just about travelled to the moon and back by now, but, like the studio, is still hanging in there:
I’m hoping to spend this week putting the finishing touches to the album, which is shaping up to be a limited edition gold(!) cassette plus the usual downloads. I’m also working with photographer and Lomography ace Hannah Brown who has taken some amazing photos for the project, including this one below which might well end up being the cover. We’re getting awfully close now. Let’s hope I can finish before the lights go out and won’t be forced to do any more creative subversion of the facts in order to do so.
This month I am literally speechless with excitement (though I’m sure I’ll soon recover) as top alternative music magazine The Wire has devoted a significant portion of it’s June 2012 issue to discussing the recently released ‘Notes On Cow Life’ album!
Disclaimer: I might have adapted parts of this image
Yep, a copy of the cassette fell/was pushed into the hands of one Mr. Byron Coley of the ‘Size Doesn’t Matter’ column that specialises each month in reviewing new music released on unusual and obscure formats. And look – there we are in the prime spot of second column, fifth paragraph down on page 66! The last time I was this giddy (or included in a magazine) was that time when a thumb-nail image of me appeared on page 166 of an issue of ‘Q Magazine’. Simple mathematics therefore suggests that I am now exactly one hundred pages more famous than I was then! Wowsers!
I was literally mobbed on the street when this first came out…
So, what does Mr. Coley think of our inaugural release? Well, for those of you too remote or too stingy to purchase your own copy, I’ve reproduced it below. I’ve also made it nice and big to really emphasise our star-billing:
Note: This isn’t life-size. He didn’t like it that much!
What do you reckon? A good review? Not bad overall, I reckon, worth the £20 note I slipped into the jiffy bag as an incentive. I must add, however, that I was momentarily troubled by having my contribution seemingly described as ‘slight’, possibly the first time that adjective has ever been used in connection with your humble scribe. ‘Slight effects’? What could this mean? Naturally I took it personally and spent several minutes sobbing in the newsagents. But having spent the past week repeatedly analysing this paragraph, I’ve made my peace with it and also decided that for the next album I shall increase the level of effects from ‘slight‘ to ‘pronounced‘. And the cash incentive to £40.
In the meantime, copies of ‘Notes On Cow Life’ are now available as part of Sound//Space, a pop-up record store and community hub located within the V22 Summer club in The Biscuit Factory, Clements Road, Bermondsey. The latest project from the brains behind the excellent Sound Fjord Gallery, the shop stocks releases from a wide variety of obscure musicians and sound artists on tiny bedroom labels from around the globe, as well as a full programme of performances, installations, films and theatre pieces until the end of July. Check out their full listings here.
Don’t worry if you’re not lucky enough to be based here in swinging London, you can still pick up a copy from our label The Fog Signals’ website in limited-edition bright orange cassette and/or download. And of course The Wire magazine is available from all good newsagents, record shops and selected trendy bistros. There’s an interesting article about Bass Clef this month too. And a really good ‘Inner Sleeve’, which is always the bit I read first…
A video discovered on the internet. Two inappropriately dressed women from the north of England are standing in an expensive but sparse-looking kitchen, pretending to drink from impractical square cups. Presumably the director has asked them pass the time by ad-libbing, which would explain the following rapier-sharp exchange that pulls no punches and transports the unsuspecting viewer right into the midst of a white-hot drama rich in narrative and characterisation:
Girl 1: You’ll never guess where I’ve been today.
Girl 2: Where’ve you been, then?
Girl 1: I went to the shops and bought some nice skirt.
Girl 2: Did you? Did you spend a lot on it?
Girl 1: No, it were a right bargain.
Girl 2: Was it now?
Girl 1: Yeah.
(Knock at door)
Girl 2: Are you expecting someone?
Girl 1: As it happens, I AM expecting someone.
(After that it all gets a bit unpleasant)
Why am I mentioning all this? Because it’s time for another helping of Chips!
Ben, Clare, Scott and Michael at home yesterday. Mini Pops not in picture.
Yes indeed, everyone’s favourite freak-pop avante-garde funk mentalists have a brand new single out this week and it’s a corker. ‘Fistula’ and it’s B-side ‘Mobility Plaza’ were both recorded in a basement in Chicago by the legendary Bobby Conn, have received airings on BBC 6Music, and are available now on 7″ single and/or three-track digital download. Three-track? Oh yes, because customers will be happy to receive an extra digital bonus track with their purchase, a remix of Fistula by a certain Robin The Fog, which will hopefully sweeten the deal still further. In fact, here it is now:
Sensational.
Available now from Parlour Records and I would imagine all the usual places such as Rough Trade, i-tunes and what have you. And don’t forget to attend the single launch party at Power Lunches in London’s fashionable Dalston on 17th May, along with two other excellent bands, METHODISTCENTRE (homoerotic street punks) and EARL SHILTON (black metal). To avoid confusion I’d like to point out that this event will NOT be at lunchtime, it will kicking off at 19.30 or thereabouts in the evening. Just wanted to clear that up.
I have never been a particularly massive fan of The Beatles. Don’t get me wrong, I quite like that one off ‘Revolver’ that goes backwards and the other one about dragging a comb and catching a bus. But otherwise I can’t say they have played a particularly substantial role in my life up until now. But all that has changed! Because, gentle reader, I have finally hit the jackpot. My latest crate-digging mission in the flotsam and jetsam of recorded media culminated in the discovery of this miraculous item sitting sleeveless and forlorn in a Notting Hill charity shop; and fame and fortune could do nought but follow:
As you can see it’s a 7″ single of breakthrough Beatles hit ‘Love Me Do’, with the slightly lesser known ‘PS I Love You’ on the flip (obviously you can’t actually see that bit, but I’m assuming a little preliminary knowledge here). You may also have noticed, however, this is not just any old single. It’s a Test pressing! In STEREO, no less! Were my eyes deceiving me? How was this even possible? My already mounting excitement then took another giant leap forward after discovering a webpage discussing the top five selling vinyl releases on ebay, which claimed that a Parlophone demo of ‘Love Me Do’ with sleeve sold in October last year for a whopping $17,334.20. Despite the fact that the similarities between a demo and test pressing are somewhat blurred, and that this record didn’t come with a sleeve at all, I quickly realised that any record collector or Beatles fan worth their salt would pay through a succession of noses to get even a sniff of this treasure; and that I would comfortably be able to retire on the profits, perhaps building that little place in the country I’ve always promised myself; filling it with tape machines while engaging a kindly old butler to finally help me catalogue my BBC sound effects collection (and also make toast). All this for an outlay of fifty pence. Not bad at all.
And yet as I admired the view from my freshly-purchased ivory tower, I spared a moment of pity for the poor sap who forsook all of this splendour by foolishly donating this highly covetable rarity to a charity shop only two doors down from Notting Hill’s Music And Video Exchange, possibly the most famous second-hand vinyl emporium in the whole of London. The poor man (and it’s always a man) could never have known what he had. So close to finding a profitable home for this treasure. And yet so far!
I must say my associates have been less enthusiastic about it all. There have been those who, no-doubt motivated by jealously, expressed frank doubts as to whether this was as genuine an article as my brief, sweeping glance had confirmed. Such nay-sayers are quick to point out that there is clearly an actual proper printed black label visible under the hastily glued-on white one. They go on to observe that the catalogue number ‘Parlophone 5148’ was actually a 7″ single by The Roulettes, entitled ‘I’ll Remember Tonight’, released two years later. And that an ‘actual’ stereo version of ‘Love Me Do’ didn’t even exist until 2009. And the fact that there is clearly a third track cut into the B-side. A ‘PPS I Still Love You’, perhaps?
‘Furthermore’, continued my so-called well-wishers as the butler politely-but-firmly attempted to show them the door, ‘What does the fact that you bought it for 50p in a charity shop lying in the very shadow of The Music And Video Exchange tell you? A little reading between the lines suggests that some pathetic attempt at espionage was afoot, but the staff at MVE quickly spotted it and laughed them out of the shop! You’re a fool, Robin The Fog!’
Dreadful people. But I must confess, as the drawbridge closed behind them, my natural scepticism did start to creep back. It’s true that it’s a little unlikely anyone would be so unaware of the 60s supergroup as to sling out their rare promotional material in the same way they would dispose of, say, Johnny Mathis or Russ Abbott LPs. But all doubts evaporated once I gingerly placed my needle into it’s astonishingly valuable grooves. Here’s what I heard:
That’s enough, we don’t want to wear it out. But I think you’ll agree it’s the Beatles alright. That’s definitely McCartney on the piano. This must be some incredibly scarce early demo of ‘Love Me Do’ perhaps created before their manager Brian Epstein convinced them to radically overhaul the song and add lyrics, guitar, bass and drums. Plus Ringo on the tambourine. It’s even rarer than I thought! And what a fascinating insight into the early days of one of our greatest bands as they explored their light-classical, easy-listening roots! Appalling inept forgery? I think not, I know what side my bread’s buttered. Even if I now have a Butler for that…
My asking price is £1,000,000. I can be contacted at the usual address. Please form an orderly queue.
Hello. Three cheers if you got here by clicking on a link on the Resonance FM website some time between the hours of 22.30 and 23.00 on Saturday 28.04.2012. Three cheers indeed.
I hope you enjoyed trying to guess whether the mystery item was a window, a wall, an orange or Mr. Benedict. Or hearing about the Benedict’s adventures ordering sherry. And if this is your first visit to my site, feel free to have a look round, and perhaps buy yourself a cassette. If, on the other hand, you have absolutely no idea what I’m on about, don’t worry. It was just my little attempt to use up thirty minutes of spare airtime with something silly. I’ll fill you in on the details later.
Anyway, here’s another teaser from my on-going tape-loop project in the Bush House basement, fresh off the spools from last night. Once again this piece was made entirely using two tape machines, a recording of a door handle and precious little else. As you can hear, the tape loop was suffering slightly by the end of the evening, and the title comes from the condition it was in once I’d finished. The poor thing has made several thousand trips round the machine by now, I’ll wager. At one point I almost thought we were going to have to abort, but it held in there:
Work continues on the project slowly but surely. Please also note the picture taken by celebrated Lomographer Hannah Brown, who was recently my guest at Bush House and took a whole roll of beautiful photos of the building in it’s final days as the home of a major international broadcaster. All will shortly be unveiled. Sorry to be continuously dangling the carrot like this. But I’m afraid I must dash as I have to lock up the studio early. Please excuse the mess.
