John Robb's interview with JJ Burnel

This is worth a read for all you Stranglers fans out there: John Robb's interview with JJ Burnel: @LouderThanWar http://bit.ly/iehMQ5 RTYD

20 sung and 20 unsung classics

I went to see the Arctic Monkeys last night.

Not really. I went to see The Stranglers last night. I would have liked to have seen the Arctic Monkeys but a) they’re not playing and b) had they been, I wouldn’t stand a chance of getting a ticket, unless I began non-stop calling Ticketmaster from 8:55am on the day tickets went on sale.

No, a friend of mine had some free tickets to see The Stranglers at Shepherd’s Bush Empire and the friendly and sociable thing to do was of course to accept the offer of one. I’ve seen them live a few times now over the years. On the first occasion Golden Brown was in the top ten. I think it was 1982? I think it was number two in the charts at the time? Anyway, I was at secondary school, for sure, and it was one of the first gigs, if not the first gig, I ever went to. Either that or the Kinks? Both were at the Guildford Civic Hall.

I love the Stranglers but I pretty much draw a line at the end of side two of La Folie. Beyond that I liked the odd song; I feel the same about Always the Sun as I do about Avalon by Roxy Music. I like it mostly out of loyalty. I am also uncomfortable about the idea of seeing them without Hugh Cornwell. This is the main reason that I wouldn’t pay to see The Stranglers these days. To me, it would be like seeing Queen without Freddie Mercury or dare I say it, Led Zeppelin without Robert Plant 'cos yes, I hear from my news-hungry wife that Page, Jones and Bonham Jnr are actually considering embarking on a tour without Percy).

Clearly, the moshing 40-somethings in front of the stage, indeed the majority of the audience last night, couldn’t have cared less about Mr Cornwell’s absence. I know even stubborn old me began to feel just a bit petty, especially once I found myself singing along to hit after hit. I enjoyed it after all. I got over my prejudice. Temporarily at least, I forgot about missing Cornwell’s tones and presence and wit. It was entertaining. There were 'hits' (I use the term relatively) that I hadn’t anticipated too like Tank and their Doors-like cover of Walk on By; both sent shivers down my spine. This is a sure sign of my nostalgic pleasure.

Now, The Stranglers’ last hit was in 1990 and was a cover version of 96 Tears which reached number 17 in the charts (remember The Charts?). Two years earlier they scored their second biggest hit with a cover of All Day and All of the Night, which reached number 7, but that was it for the Stranglers’ hit machine. It ran out of pop-petrol. 1990 was also the year that Hugh Cornwell went off to pursue a solo career. He hasn’t managed another hit either. He hardly needs one though; bearing in mind he still reaps the rewards of the Stranglers continuing to tour his songs.

The mid to late 80s we’re obviously a difficult time for the Stranglers. They were after all a dire time for music generally. The Stranglers were looking for a new post-Golden Brown identity, they needed to prove they had longevity. Always The Sun got them some recognition in the US but wasn't big in the UK. The hits during this period were few and far between. Hugh Cornwell clearly didn’t believe in their longevity, not in a creative respect anyway. I couldn’t tell you if the songs were still any good. I had moved on to other things. It’s not unusual though, in fact you could say it’s common for bands to eventually lose their hit-making ability, facility and credentials. For some, success itself, takes the edge off the words and music. Others simply run out of ideas. The Stranglers had a good run of twelve years or so. They went from pub-rockers to near-chart-toppers and managed to pull off a 7/8 time-signature and a song about heroin in the same hit record, Golden Brown – I hear it now mostly when I’m shopping at my Sainsburys Local. I don’t think they know about the subject matter.

Now if the Stranglers hadn’t have gotten so famous, would they still have been as prolific? Would they still have written Golden Brown and Always the Sun? Let’s say they never made it far enough out of Guildford. Or that they bubbled under but never quite made it. Would they have matured out of their punk sound without chart success and gone on to improve their songwriting without it too? Would they still have a hit or two up their sleeve? Would they still be going? Is there a Stranglers out there, that didn’t make it and who still have a wealth of great songs in a box in an attic somewhere? I think there must be.

But would anyone be interested? Well, a good song is a good song. It is timeless, isn’t it? It just needs the right promotion. Wouldn’t it be great to put a CD-compilation together of lost gems. Great obscure moments in local rock history. 20 Unsung Classics, I’d call it. I’m sure they’re still being played out there on old tape-cassettes. I know, ‘cos I have a demo by a band called the Contours from Guildford, which dates back to the New Wave era. I still put it on from time to time ‘cos I like the songs. The sound qulaity isn't great but there’s a couple of really good songs on it.

If you’ve got a lost gem, a hit that should have been, drop me a line at tobyburton@rock-til-you-drop.com. I'd love to hear it, and about it.

The Sneaks at the Hope and Anchor

I wouldn’t normally go out at 9:30pm on a Tuesday night but my mate invited me out to see his work colleague’s band play last night at the Hope and Anchor in Islington. They are called the Sneaks. They are in their mid-twenties so they don't yet qualify for the 'Bands' page of this site but I feel I ought to be aware of what sort of noise young up-and-coming bands are making. I jump on my push-bike and I'm there in 15 minutes. When I arrive my mate introduces me to the singer who is from New Zealand. He seems very nice. He has a moustache and an 'I Love N Y' t-shirt on. He is waiting to go on at 10:30 at the top of the bill. It is quiet upstairs in the pub. The whole scene is very familiar to me. It reminds me of many a gig I’ve played in London. The empty pub upstairs, the cycle of bands and their fans, up and down the stairs, in and out of the live area. I think the The Falcon. The Dublin Castle. The Bull and Gate (incidentally, does anybody remember that Jon Fat Beast? I wonder what happened to him?) Now, I haven’t been to the Hope for a long time. I think the last time I was there, I was playing a gig. If my memory serves me, it was 1998 - if that was the year that Arsenal won the double? That Saturday night, anyway, the pubs and streets of Highbury and the surrounding area were heaving with drunken celebrating fans - and strewn with broken glass. There was an edgy atmosphere, too. I remember a guy crashing into the loos, his hand bleeding from being attacked by a pissed-up Gooner with a broken bottle . He was an Arsenal supporter too, just with a blue shirt on. Once we had played, I remember we got the hell out of there as quickly as possible. Anyway, I like the Hope because of its Punk history and very few of the old punk venues are still in use. It was of course where bands like the Stranglers and X-Ray Spex played back in mid to late seventies. The Stranglers’ video for Get a Grip was filmed at the Hope and this fact always distracts me when I’m downstairs. As usual then, I find myself trying to work out how the room has changed since then and whether the stage has actually been moved since the video was shot. I’m sure there’s someone out there who can enlighten me. If you were one of the Finchley Boys or at the Hope back then, maybe you can put my mind at rest? It must have been longer than I thought since I’d been to a gig like this, cos it's now £6 to get in. It's worth it though 'cos the band is entertaining and I like their stuff. Post-punk-art-rock. A lot of energy. Fuzz- bass driven songs with frantically strummed clean guitar and occasional synthesizer. Short and fast songs. Oddly arranged and at times shouty in the vein of Sebadoh, or someone Lo-fi like that. They remind me of early XTC too; quirky songs that frequently change time and speed. Aptly, they cover an early Sparks effort called Moustache. The singer has charisma and is funny. His schtick is a full-face motorcycle helmet that had been fitted with a microphone which allows him to travel the length of the tiny stage while singing. The band are sort of chaotic. The stage is a mess of wires and foot-pedals. They are confident. They are very signable. I start to feel slightly envious and nostalgic. I rewind to memories of record companies coming to gigs. Promising to bring their colleagues to the next show. Journalists reviewing our gigs. Those were the days! After the gig, the soundman sticks on the Ramones, which is fitting because there’s a New Yorky-ness to the Sneak’s brand of art-rock. In fact, after the gig their singer, James, informs me the band are going to New York to play in a few days (this is the second time I feel envious). So I hear a song from the Leave Home LP over the PA and I am transported back to Ken’s Records in Godalming High Street sometime in 1980. Most of these kids weren’t born by 1980. I then start to envy them the experience of plundering four decades of rock and pop’s back catalogue. Envy them hearing the Ramones for the first time. Roxy Music.... The Doors.... Fugazi...... Drink up, I say to myself. You’re leaving.