This is Malcolm and Ibon from Hats Off Gentlemen It's Adequate playing an acoustic cover of Led Zeppelin's Whole Lotta Love, live at The Ballyhoo in London, earlier this month. Enjoy!
Showing posts with label led zeppelin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label led zeppelin. Show all posts
Monday, 7 May 2012
Sunday, 1 April 2012
Coming soon to London and Liverpool, new RTYD member, GuitimeDennis
A ROCK-TIL-YOU-DROP-WELCOME to Dyer, Arkansas based guitarist and vocalist, GuitimeDennis. Dennis is a hobbyist musician, who grew up in the Bay area of California, but whose influences include a number of British bands and artists, such as the Beatles, the Stones, Jeff Beck and Led Zep. These acts have been such an inspiration to Dennis over the 42 years he has been playing the guitar, that he is planning a trip to our shores very soon, and wants to visit London and Liverpool, in particular. He will be also be bringing his guitar so he can jam when he gets here. So, nearer the time, let's point him in the direction of some good jam sessions and open-mics in London and Liverpool, and make him feel welcome.
Dennis also has a website of his own called Guitime Studios from which he publishes videos and music in the hope of inspiring others. So check it out!
Tuesday, 14 February 2012
#RIP #RTYD Guitarist Joe Moretti who has died at the age of 73
British guitarist Joe Moretti renowned for his work on seminal rock n' roll records 'Brand New Cadillac' by Vince Taylor and 'Shakin' All Over' by Johnny Kidd & The Pirates', has died at the age of 73. Moretti was born in 1938 in Glasgow. He moved to London in 1958 where he quickly became part of the burgeoning rock n' roll scene around the legendary 2i's Coffee Bar in Soho. Before long he was playing back up for singers including Gene Vincent and Vince Eager, as well as a number of other skiffle and rock n' roll acts.
In early 1959 Moretti discovered guitarist-singer Tony Sheridan had quit Vince Taylor's band, The Playboys, and was asked to take his place. Moretti toured with Taylor in the UK and recorded the iconic "Brand New Cadillac" a few months later. The following year Moretti played lead guitar for Johnny Kidd and the Pirates on what would be their UK No.1 single 'Shakin' All Over', as well as on its follow-up 'Restless'.
Moretti continued to tour and record throughout the 60s, and was in demand as a session player along with other legendary British guitarists including Big Jim Sullivan, and future Led Zeppelin guitarist Jimmy Page.
He claimed to have played guitar on hits for Jet Harris and Tony Meehan ('Scarlet O'Hara' and 'Applejack') and on Donovan's number one record 'Mellow Yellow'; and it is now accepted that he played guitar on 'It's Not Unusual' by Tom Jones, and Chris Farlowe's Rolling Stones cover, 'Out Of Time'.
Moretti died from lung cancer on 9th February in Johannesburg, South Africa, where he lived.
(Ref: Wikipedia)
Wednesday, 25 January 2012
Welcome to Toby Nuttall of London band, The Beast
A ROCK-TIL-YOU-DROP welcome to Toby Nuttall, frontman with London blues-rock band, The Beast. I have known Toby for a while now, and seen The Beast a few times. They rock hard - like a cross between AC/DC and Led Zep. They've even played a RTYD showcase or two - remember those! Watch this space for details of their next show.
Tuesday, 21 October 2008
The song don't necessarily remain the same
I have been writing songs since I was 14 or 15. I started writing lyrics before I could play guitar. Mostly about the end of the world.
It was the early 1980s and new tensions between the US and Russia inspired the so-called Second Cold War and resumed talk of nuclear war. The threat seemed very real. I was fascinated. Not by the politics but by the idea of Armageddon and a post-apocalypse planet Earth. I even bought my Dad a copy of a book called the Fate of the Earth for his birthday. He didn’t read it. I did. Well, not all of it because it went on a bit. I was particularly attracted to the idea of being the only remaining human being after the apocalypse; I had a song called Adam and Eve Mark II which I don’t need to explain to you.
Once I could play guitar, writing songs became a more complex process. But I loved it. I started keeping a notebook of song words and ideas. Once I had finished a song I would neatly write it all out and proudly look it. Then I would make some scribbled changes; and have to write it all out neatly again.
I quickly got to the point that I always had a song on the go in my head. At about 20, having moved to London with my band then called 1967, the necessity to write songs increased. We played gigs more often and hearing so much new music we changed musical styles and hairstyles with some frequency.
As the songwriter I could stay one step ahead of the band but learned quickly to deal with the frustration caused by the speed with which I was able to deliver new songs for arrangement and inclusion in the set. The set, once rehearsed, like a football team on a winning streak, didn’t need changing too often. Songs waited patiently on the bench, some never ever getting a game.
For the next twelve years or so, I wrote constantly. I always had a few song ideas on the go at any one time. Sometimes songs would take weeks or months to complete. Other times, I would write them in one sitting in a flash of inspiration, often on the way home from a night on the tiles. In the back of my mind though I think I was aware that I had to strike while the iron was hot. This prolific output might not last forever. The angst would turn to acceptance and grumpiness, the unrequited love would hopefully one day be requited and the self-indulgence would ultimately become time spent alone at home.
By my early thirties I started to write less. I was less inspired to write songs. I could make excuses. So I will. The band was playing less often so there wasn’t such a need for new material. I was settling down. I got married. We had a kid. And I wasn’t going out half as much. End of excuses.
My interests turned back to art, which I had pretty much renounced in favour of rock ‘n’ roll at 19. With the encouragement of my wife I returned to art school. I’ll get to the point in a minute.
The point is, earlier this year with a new band in place, I began to feel the need for new songs. I wrote a few. And I was in the lucky position of having a back-catalogue that I could cherry pick the best bits of. So one day I was listening to some old rehearsal recordings, made around 1990/91 and there was a group of songs which comprised our set at the time that I thought were really strong. None of these songs made it to the recording stage nor did they survive long
enough to make the set that we were playing when as 67 we got signed in 1993.
I figured these songs might be worth dusting down and playing they were so strong. The problem was that I felt uncomfortable about their lyrical content. Now I wrote these songs. But I obviously wrote them with a major twenty-something’s hard-on and after listening to too much Led Zeppelin. They were the stuff of cock-rock. I didn’t feel comfortable singing this kind of stuff. So I decided to try rewriting the lyrics to one of them. After playing with various ideas for weeks and feeling like I was getting nowhere, I felt inspired by the mood my wife was in on returning from seeing her family in California. She had jet-lag, which she treats by sleeping for a week and was feeling just a little blue about being back in miserable grey old England. So I wrote it about this. Bright young California vs. the dull old England; careful to make it clear this was how she was feeling not me. I would never be so unpatriotic.
It was funny because my bass player, who had played on the original song, then entitled Cleopatra, couldn’t remember the song or the bass line for the life of him - it was nearly twenty years since he had last played it – so I taught him to play his own bass line. I halved the length of the original verses and a new three and half minute pop song was born. Its new title is less concise: Post-California English Winter Blues. For a song that was written 20 years ago, it’s got quite a contemporary, White Stripesy sound. It’s now our set opener.
It was the early 1980s and new tensions between the US and Russia inspired the so-called Second Cold War and resumed talk of nuclear war. The threat seemed very real. I was fascinated. Not by the politics but by the idea of Armageddon and a post-apocalypse planet Earth. I even bought my Dad a copy of a book called the Fate of the Earth for his birthday. He didn’t read it. I did. Well, not all of it because it went on a bit. I was particularly attracted to the idea of being the only remaining human being after the apocalypse; I had a song called Adam and Eve Mark II which I don’t need to explain to you.
Once I could play guitar, writing songs became a more complex process. But I loved it. I started keeping a notebook of song words and ideas. Once I had finished a song I would neatly write it all out and proudly look it. Then I would make some scribbled changes; and have to write it all out neatly again.
I quickly got to the point that I always had a song on the go in my head. At about 20, having moved to London with my band then called 1967, the necessity to write songs increased. We played gigs more often and hearing so much new music we changed musical styles and hairstyles with some frequency.
As the songwriter I could stay one step ahead of the band but learned quickly to deal with the frustration caused by the speed with which I was able to deliver new songs for arrangement and inclusion in the set. The set, once rehearsed, like a football team on a winning streak, didn’t need changing too often. Songs waited patiently on the bench, some never ever getting a game.
For the next twelve years or so, I wrote constantly. I always had a few song ideas on the go at any one time. Sometimes songs would take weeks or months to complete. Other times, I would write them in one sitting in a flash of inspiration, often on the way home from a night on the tiles. In the back of my mind though I think I was aware that I had to strike while the iron was hot. This prolific output might not last forever. The angst would turn to acceptance and grumpiness, the unrequited love would hopefully one day be requited and the self-indulgence would ultimately become time spent alone at home.
By my early thirties I started to write less. I was less inspired to write songs. I could make excuses. So I will. The band was playing less often so there wasn’t such a need for new material. I was settling down. I got married. We had a kid. And I wasn’t going out half as much. End of excuses.
My interests turned back to art, which I had pretty much renounced in favour of rock ‘n’ roll at 19. With the encouragement of my wife I returned to art school. I’ll get to the point in a minute.
The point is, earlier this year with a new band in place, I began to feel the need for new songs. I wrote a few. And I was in the lucky position of having a back-catalogue that I could cherry pick the best bits of. So one day I was listening to some old rehearsal recordings, made around 1990/91 and there was a group of songs which comprised our set at the time that I thought were really strong. None of these songs made it to the recording stage nor did they survive long
enough to make the set that we were playing when as 67 we got signed in 1993.
I figured these songs might be worth dusting down and playing they were so strong. The problem was that I felt uncomfortable about their lyrical content. Now I wrote these songs. But I obviously wrote them with a major twenty-something’s hard-on and after listening to too much Led Zeppelin. They were the stuff of cock-rock. I didn’t feel comfortable singing this kind of stuff. So I decided to try rewriting the lyrics to one of them. After playing with various ideas for weeks and feeling like I was getting nowhere, I felt inspired by the mood my wife was in on returning from seeing her family in California. She had jet-lag, which she treats by sleeping for a week and was feeling just a little blue about being back in miserable grey old England. So I wrote it about this. Bright young California vs. the dull old England; careful to make it clear this was how she was feeling not me. I would never be so unpatriotic.
It was funny because my bass player, who had played on the original song, then entitled Cleopatra, couldn’t remember the song or the bass line for the life of him - it was nearly twenty years since he had last played it – so I taught him to play his own bass line. I halved the length of the original verses and a new three and half minute pop song was born. Its new title is less concise: Post-California English Winter Blues. For a song that was written 20 years ago, it’s got quite a contemporary, White Stripesy sound. It’s now our set opener.
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