All Ears: Space Raiders ‘Glam Raid’

Hailing from the musical hotbed of Middlesborough, named after a bag of crisps and signed to Fatboy Slim’s Skint label, Space Raider are, hands down, one our our favourite bands of the Nineties.

Their storming ‘(I Need The) Disko Doktor’ single entirely soundtracked one especially messy trip to Ibiza, while there were a firm favourite live, leaving us nothing short of gobsmacked at the high level of arsing around on display. Clearly very drunk, there was lots of dancing and waving of toy guns and light sabres as they unleashed their irresistible big beat beauties. Most entertaining.

It’s a shame there’s hardly a whisper about them as the wisps of time waft onwards. But that’s kind of the point of us being here. We’d like to be thought like a musical stick that pokes you in the direction of lost lovelies like Space Raiders.

We first stumbled across them while do the single reviews for The Maker, a most enjoyable job as we always enlisted the help of a guest reviewer. One of my favourites was the lovely Mary-Ann Hobbs, who just froths musical enthusiasm. Normally, we’d turn up with a pile of singles and work our way through them with the guest. Rather fantastically, Mary-Ann turned up with her own pile, in which was this, the Space Raiders’ debut.

We were both mad about it, so I guess it must have been single of the week… if it wasn’t they were robbed. We came away with Mary-Ann’s copy, swapping it for something or other. Can’t quite recall. And in a beautiful moment of something or other, we now have a new site where you can buy the actual records we write about right here. Yup. Think of it like a music redistribution service. More details below.

More hear
- You can buy this very record, a white label promo previous owned by Mary-Ann Hobbs, from our sister site, ripingvinyl.co.uk.
- Or if you prefer, pick up their debut long one, ‘Don’t Be Daft’ from 65p from Amazon Marketplace. While you’re there might as well get the follow up ‘Hot Cakes’ seeing as it’s being knocked out for 1p.
- Oh, and can we find a single picture of them/ No we can’t. If anyone’s got one, knock it this way. They really did deserve better.

All Ears: The Loyal Few ‘Adventures’

We’re back then.

Sorry for the radio silence. It’s been a bit hectic round here. You can marvel at what we’ve been up to at our sister site, rippingvinyl.co.uk. See, we’ve built a little shop to sell curios, promos, vinyl and the like. Figure if we can make a bit buying and selling it’s one less proper job we have to do, which means more of this.

The other string to our busy bow is running a music journalism course. It’s been going well and we’ve got a day-long extravaganza lined up for June.

The thinking is the music press is broken. It’s too top heavy, with too little being published from local scenes. Where have all the ‘zine writers gone? Where do local bands get the big up? Writing about music isn’t rocket science (no, that’s rockets and stuff), but people tend to make a bit of a fist of it. So I run a little course to show people the ropes and hopefully kick-start something locally. Next job is a little site for music coming out of Norwich, UK.

Oh, it’s nice to be back. Not had a ramble like this for a while. My favourite part of the course is the session on interviewing, where the students get to quiz a real band. Finding a suitable one was a piece of cake.

First time I met The Loyal Few, I watched them walk up the road for their stint as guinea pigs. Sounds daft, but you just know from looking if a band has got it or not. Half a job done if you look like a band. Other half is sounding like it. And do they sound like it? Yup.

They do breezy pop music, packed tight with sunshine and dripping in melody. Garage pop they’d called it if asked. The one thing the world has plenty of room for is bands like The Loyal Few. No pretence, no agenda other than getting up there and doing enjoyment with bells on. No point in getting all chin-strokey, it is what is, does what it does and does it rather brilliantly.

The nice thing about sitting here, ears flapping, is you often hear music that isn’t a polished diamond. Often bands we stumble show flashes of what they could be. We like that, we like hearing one corking track that just pins us to a wall. With The Loyal Few it is very much the finished article.

Listen to the two EPs (available for free from their website) and you’ll hear the difference, the progression. The remarkable thing is that they were recorded six months apart. Here’s a band set to full stream ahead, and working up quite a head of steam in the process by all accounts.

Next step, a wider audience, which could well come on the back of a third EP. Not heard it yet, but can’t wait. If the difference is as huge as it was between the first two EPS, well… Don’t all rush at once. Form an orderly queue please.

More hear…
- Before we forget, the corking photo above was taken by Clare Mills.
- A visit to the MS is time well spent.
- Trundle along to the proper website where you can download both EPs for free.

Adelaide’s Cape ‘Harbour’

Sometimes, not very often admittedly, something very good indeed lands right on your doorstep. In this case, quite literally. The flaking blue paint of the scrabby garage doors in the Adelaide’s Cape photo? They belong to my next door neighbour.

Until recently, Sam Taylor, the one with the hood, lived in my ‘hood. Together with Hannah Richardson, they are the Cape and they’ve recently upped sticks and relocated to Bath for educational purposes.

It’s not so much that my street is suddenly a hotbed of musical wonderfulness, more likely that Norwich is very quickly galloping into view when it comes to turning up bands deserving of attention beyond The Fine City’s borders.

If we did have to stick our neck out, heaven forbid, we’d say that Adelaide’s Cape are going to be enjoying the lion’s share of such attention in good time.

And nope, it’s not about what people look like, not ever never, but heck, have a look at these two will you? Tell me you don’t want to put Sam and Han in your pocket and keep them for yourself and I will foot the optician bill myself. One look and you hope, pray, they’re good. You really want them to be something to write home about.

Mum, Dad, there’s this band…

It sounds like you’re patting a small boy on the head when you describe music as charming, but Adelaide’s Cape are nothing less. It’s as simple as songwriting comes, and just about twice as wonderful. It all sounds so effortless as Sam’s lazy vocal drifts in and out, like the gentle breath of something grouchy sleeping, while Hannah’s voice is the butter to Sam’s toast, as delicate as a daisy, halfway between indie and folkie, it’s the sort of voice Moshi Moshi would join a queue for.

The nice thing is, beyond hanging their coat on the peg marked ‘post folk’, it’s difficult to draw comparisons. Not saying they don’t have a certain Nick Drake spring in their step (face it, who doesn’t?), but what else is in there? Influences, they say on their MS, include Chris Wood, Idlewild, Johnny Flynn, Bellowhead, Mumford & Sons…

Might just be me, and I’m by no means a muso, but Sam plays a Fender FR-50 Resonator (off of Dire Straight’s ‘Brothers In Arms’ album, but don’t hold that against it), which tends to suggest here’s a boy who understands a thing or two.

Using a metal ‘resonator’ instead of the traditional wooden soundboard made the guitar sound louder, which was pretty handy when you were sat alongside the brass in the increasingly popular dance bands of the 1920s. The resonator’s distinctive, bright metallic sound soon made it the weapon of choice for blues and bluegrass musicians long after some bright spark invented amplification.

It’s a sound synonymous with the Deep South, with the music that started everything. And here’s a duo from Norfolk wielding one. Bodes well. Bodes very well.

More hear…
- Treat yourself to a visit of their MS .
- Grab their debut single, ‘Harbour’/'Curled’, for free from rawrip.com.
- Read some more in the November issue of BBC Norfolk Introducing magazine, VoluME.

Cooler ‘Disco Sucks’

It kind of started with the Spearmint piece the other day. When MNFB was born, it was supposed to be about great music, new stuff, old stuff, stuff you’d forgotten about. As seems the way with me, it became something else entirely. So I’m trying to get back on track.

Recently, I’ve started filling a new 1TB hard drive. I’m working my way, from left to right, through the CDs from the shelves, but the Spearmint thing had me rummaging in the boxes under the stereo.

Blimey, the stuff I’ve forgotten about. Cooler, for example.

After EMF fell apart for the first time, singer James Atkin – a Birmingham boy – and keyboarder Derry – not a Birmingham boy – joined Bentley Rhythm Ace’s backroom staff. Astonishing as it seems now, EMF were massive. As such, despite his protests otherwise, you’d guess there’s only so long a frontman can be stood at the back, in someone else’s band.

Helpfully, along came Cooler – a three-piece James could call his own. Alongside him, Ollie Cherer, a bundle of energy who bounced between drum kit, keyboards and just plain bouncing (I once described as a cuddly Keith Flint, sorry about that) and, on bass and singing, the lovely Anna Haigh off of Bocca Juniors, Red Snapper, Flowered Up and, in her own words, “a few other obscure bands too”. And yes, she was the girl in the T-shirt in the ‘Weekender’ video. And no, her co-star Lee Whitlock wasn’t Zammo from Grange Hill. I had a whole other ramble about the importance of the ‘Weekender’ video and how it’s ‘Quadrophenia’ for Generation X… and then I discovered, sadly, Flowered Up’s singer Liam Maher died last week, aged 41. That’s just too young. Very sad. There’s a lovely tribute here from Heavenly’s Robin Turner.

Anyway, Cooler. Onstage they were all ants in the pants, with everyone swapping instruments and mics like football stickers. And James singing again. On record, it was carnage – samples piled up to the ceiling, squidges, squelches, beats to go, heavy pumping on the keys, walloping bass. Cooler trod a carpet that should have seen them enjoy much more success… or actually, some success. From what I can make out, it was a Maker Breaker and an NME Single of the Week. It’s still a good one for the grandchildren, but boy, they must have watched the likes of Lo Fidelity Allstars’ relative rise with mouths agog.

Their second single was gobsmackingly good. A dark, growling, snarling Gary Glitter sampling romp with the refrain “gonna funk it up/kick it down like a mother”. There might have been another single called ‘Oh Happy Day’, but information is skant. Even with the all-knowing internet. If there was why haven’t I got it? I’m also pretty sure Cooler didn’t get as far as releasing an album, again, if there was it’d be in the box under the stereo.

It’s a shame, but if you’re going to duck out early doors, do it with some style. What? Oh.

More hear…
- The ‘Supersod’ single is still kicking around for those with 1p+P&P to spare. Get it from Amazon Marketplace. Money well spent.

Spearmint ‘A Trip Into Space’

As I’ve said before, the nicest thing about mynewfavouriteband.com is the unexpected emails. Sure, there’s a ton of ‘Hello music blogger’ scattergun spam that every last music site in the whole world has got too, but now and again you get something nice. Very nice.

The other day I got an email about Spearmint reissuing their mighty fine ‘A Week Away’ album from last century. It’s out now, there’s a link down there, at the bottom, which you should use to buy it. Really you should. Your ears will thank you.

Spearmint were one of those bands that were universally liked in the Melody Maker office. Their 1997 single, ‘A Trip Into Space’ especially had us all a-quiver. It’s one of those songs that both your ears can’t help being grabbed by. It has one of the finest intros ever, and thankfully the reissue features the full-length five-minute-plus version rather than the three-minute edit on the original. Which is all good, mainly because it locks itself into a belting indie-Motown groove that remains just as irresistible 12 years on. Makes The Go Team sound dull. Absolutely one of my favourite singles of the Nineties, so thanks for the email, Mark, I’d forgotten about it.

What that email did was get thinking about other stuff I’d forgotten about. As a music journalist, especially as reviews editor, I used to get mountains of promo CDs. I lived in a one-bed flat in Bethnal Green and found a photo of my old frontroom the other day. It was full of records, CDs, tapes and there was a sofa somewhere too. Thing was, you couldn’t physically keep everything. Clearly, judging by that photo, I did give it a good go.

So once a month a kind man from Manchester would arrive in a big van and we’d all donate our unwanted CDs to charity. The same charity very generously bought my first car, a red N-reg Ford Escort. During my time on the music press I shudder to think how many CDs, erm, went to charity.

I did keep an awful lot. There’s several thousand CDs in what the kids like to call the music room. It’s only the backroom, but it is full of music. In particular, there’s a crate under the stereo full of promos. Last night I was looking in it for Spearmint, which I found. I also found a ton of other stuff I’d forgotten about, and it occurred to me that most of it will be completely lost to our ears.

The more I write about music these days, the more I feel this stuff needs an outlet. Leave it with me, I’m thinking, I’ll get back to you. In the meantime, I give you Spearmint, my new favourite band.

More hear…
- For Spearmint’s proper website go here.
- To buy buy buy the ‘A Week Away’ album reissue go here.
- For more about what Shirley’s up to go here.