All aboard the Paddy wagon

When I've been away for awhile, both physically and in spirit, I dust off a Paddy Reilly record and spin the old beauty on the victrola. There's just something about Paddy's voice that's so warm and reassuring, even when he's singinig about topics of the cheerless variety.

One of my favorite tunes by Mr. Reilly is his version of Johnny McEvoy's "Long Before Your Time." McEvoy once jokingly said, "It could have been different. I could have been an advertising man with button-down collar, sports coat, permanently creased terylene trousers, and a secure job. But I threw it all away to become a ballad singer with button-down collar, sports coat, permanently creased terylene trousers, and no job." Rather neat a man with such a sense of humor could produce a song so heart-wrenching.

Paddy's cover of it is just lovely, as he portrays the narrator to be both melancholy and composed; you can picture him telling his story, keeping himself together for his lovely daughter's sake, only to fall apart once his tale ends and his daughter has up and left the room.

Here is "Long Before Your Time."

A band that drives me hazy

Two tradeshows in two months, vacation looming, persuing other writing projects, The Hype Machine being an unruly bitch -- all of this has made the last few weeks a bit hectic and frustrating 'round these parts.

I'm cutting out of here shortly, so a long update is out of the question. And while you diehard Jock popsters (all five of you) curse me up and down for falling on the side of lazy this afternoon, take a listen to The Hazey Janes (the name comes from a Nick Drake song; and no, they sound nothing like him), for it will certainly brighten your dark moods. This Dundee outfit already has one well-received U.K. tour under its belt, not to mention an appearence at the annual SXSW festival.

The Hazey Janes' debut album, Hotel Radio, was recorded in Spain with producer Paco Loco, and features three-part harmonies, plenty of glossy pop hooks, and a unique blend of trad and country rock. Not to mention a rather deft brother-sister team of Matthew and Alice Marra.

Hear it for yourself. Download: "Don't Look Away" and "Moanin' Face" by The Hazey Janes.

How many Moore times

I wasn't all that prosperous back then. Lolling head and flickering tongue, sitting on my hands, freeing them only to grasp at pint glasses. When I finally started clawing my way back to everyday clarity, I found myself -- like anyone else partaking in a similar endeavor, I suppose -- looking for signs that my destination was indeed viable.

And that brings us to Prosperous in Prosperous: Christy Moore's first album and the town in County Kildare. Moore named his LP thus, on account of it being recorded in this tiny hamlet by producer Bill Leader. Years back, battling with the amber liquids, I spent a weekend of torment in a dirty hotel room in Prosperous, my only salve the album Prosperous. I was angry with Ireland at the time -- I may have even pissed in An Chanail Mhor -- but Moore's brilliance kept me in check.

So yes, I found a sign that weekend. I can be prosperous again. Sappy? Of course. But I can deal with being sappy now; I can deal with being a lot of things now.

I also just came to the realization that this post has been one big tease; I do indeed have Moore tracks to share, but they are not from Prosperous. Don't be cross with me. These are from Ride On: "Back Home In Derry" and "Among The Wicklow Hills."

Lloyd's of England

I've long been amused by the number of Scottish pop aficionados who bestow Jock status upon Lloyd Cole, all because the Buxton-born and Chapel-en-le-Frith-reared songwriter attended the University of Glasgow for a few semesters in the early 80s. Shit, Cole didn't even graduate from that institution.

If this cursed blog has taught us anything, it's that Scotland certainly does not suffer from a dearth of pop virtuosi -- yes, tin ear, there is life beyond Shirley Manson and Big Country! There's no need to claim an individual of clear English stock as one of the country's own. The whole thing slightly reeks of desperation; it even reminds me of when a certain professional sports franchise retired this star's number.

Anyway, this little endeavor does grant me the opportunity to post a track from Cole's (and The Commotions', too, of course; can't forget about them) landmark album, Rattlesnakes, which easily ranks among my all-time top 10. On that LP's closing tracks, Cole sang, "Are you ready to be?/Are you ready to bleed?/Are you ready to be heartbroken?"

Twenty-two years later, he finally got his response.

Hear it for yourself. Download: "Patience" by Lloyd Cole & The Commotions and "Lloyd, I'm Ready To Be Heartbroken by Camera Obscura.

Lots of maudlin mush

She was craving romance. Flickering candles, a poem read to her in Irish, a few dainty roses, a table tucked away in the corner of the restaurant, where we would push our seats really close together. My goodness, the kind of maudlin mush woman pine for and men frequently bumble up when trying to deliver.

I tried my damndest at delivering the goods, so much so that when the end of the evening rolled around, she was satisfied -- or at least, gave the appearence of being satisfied. And after 25 years of marital bliss (!), I've learned that definitely suffices. (Twenty years ago, of course, I thought differently.)

We retired to a small pub on the ocean, so she could have her nightcap. There was a small group of musicians heartily belting out song; she said I should request one. "Why not ask for 'Galway Bay?'" she suggested. "Since we are here and all." My, what a glorious idea! (I'm quite skilled in the art of flattery, I should let you know.) So up I went, my suggestion at the ready. The ole boys agreed and a few sips of her red wine later, "Galway Bay" commenced.

Only it wasn't the version she was expecting. I'm quite the devil. "Just to watch the suds roll down by Galway Bay!" Here's The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem doing their own version of "Galway Bay."