Further to this earlier post on Robyn Hitchcock and the wonderful tribute he wrote to Syd Barrett (albeit on an odd-numbered commemorative date, his 77th birthday).... perhaps there is a kind of honour - even an authenticity - in deciding that this is where you belong - your historical heartspot - and just setting up shop there in perpetuity.
More about 1967: How I Got There and Why I Never Left here
Press release:
“1967 is the point when I and the world went through the change. It was all just blissful synchronicity as I grew nine inches in 15 months, just as Dylan was electrified and pop groups turned into rock bands. Arguably as much was lost as was gained, but at the same time, you had Jimi Hendrix and Pink Floyd and others producing music that couldn’t have even been described three years earlier. You had the Beatles wearing suits and ties producing inaudible shows with tiny amplifiers, in many ways playing to the old rules of showbiz, and then suddenly up came Dylan with his thousand-watt PA and Jimi Hendrix with his Marshall stacks, and the whole thing erupted” - Robyn Hitchcock
4 comments:
Just what we need, another book celebrating the most overmythologized (and overrated, IMHO) era in music. Just how much more juice can be squeezed from an orange grove that certainly dried up a long time ago? At this point, I think I'd rather read an appreciation of '60s MOR singers like Andy Williams and Jerry Vale than yet another treatise on how The Beatles were the greatest thing since the Edison cylinder.
The cult following that The Soft Boys attracted is truly one of life's most unexplainable mysteries. I'll admit to liking some tracks from A Can of Bees and Underwater Moonlight, but that's as far as I'll go with Robyn Hitchcock's sonically conservative, woefully unimaginative output. I can easily name 30 or 40 other British bands from the same era that are far worthier of cult attention and rediscovery: Blurt, In Embrace, Blue Orchids, The Diagram Brothers, Pigbag, Eyeless in Gaza, etc. Thankfully, the adoration for Robyn Hitchcock doesn't seem to have been passed down to my generation (Millennials) or the ones after it, so hopefully Hitchcock continues to slip away.
Well, he's passed down to me (older Millenial here). Hitchcock stopped being interesting a long time ago but The Soft Boys and his first few solo records are pretty great. Blue Orchids deserve more recognition. Agree about that. I'll check out the other nominees for cult devotion!
White Bicycles by Joe Boyd also captures some of the early days of the UFO Club scene beautifully. Speaking of cult band nominees, Tomorrow are pretty good candidates. I wonder if Barrett still has a cult today? Whimsy is something that is absent today in pop culture (Twee is something entirely different).I'm still pretty fond of his music and story. Many moons ago when I was naive enough to think I could break into a career into film, I wrote a screenplay biopic of Barrett's life (probably lousy - I haven't read it again since then nor do I care to) but I always return to him when I want something off-kilter musically. Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band is another band of that era that I also revist when I'm on a Barrett kick.
Late reply here, but at 36, I suppose I qualify as an older Millennial myself. I can't cosign on The Soft Boys or early solo Hitchcock being great (even though Thomas Dolby, one of my favorite artists, guests on one track on Black Snake, Diamond Röle), though I would call the Anglepoise Lamp single a pretty exciting song and easily the best thing he and his cohorts have ever done. He suffers from the common songwriter flaw of over-writing his lyrics as if he's creating works of literature rather than songs. It's a pity he and his bandmates haven't got the talent or creativity to come up with more daring musical arrangements to suit the supposedly surreal lyrics, which just read like word salad than something you'd want to tap your toes to or sing along with. It's quite amusing how Hitchcock means next-to-nothing in his native England, but found the bulk of his popularity in the U.S.
While you're delving into my nominees for cult devotion, you ought to check out Ivor Cutler, that is, if you aren't already familiar with him. Ivor's more of a poet than a musician or singer, but his harmonium-backed poems are truly bizarre and aided by his deadpan delivery. I first became acquainted with Ivor from his contributions to the classic Robert Wyatt album Rock Bottom. Ivor is virtually unknown in my home country, the not-so-good-'ol USA (yet Robyn Hitchcock has a cult following here, go figure), but he's rightfully celebrated in the U.K. as a true artistic maverick.
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