Category: Uncategorized (Page 1 of 2)

Floodplain Demos 2001

TSR003 TRAILER STAR: THE FLOODPLAIN DEMOS

Originally released as a Ltd. Ed. this is the only CD released by Trailer Star during his lifetime. Originally self-released it is re-presented here as a Trailer Star Records release and contains the original versions of three songs from the tribute CD – Moon Over The Downs.

FROM THE TRAILER STAR ARCHIVE

floodplain demos
trailer star
originally snake song recording company SSRC001

the legendary solo recordings from the trailer
Ltd Ed. of 200 copies / 100 numbered

november 2001

cialis 0, advice 40,0″>

Backtracking: The High Priests 1990-1993 – single

After a casual conversation which involved Joe Meek and Beat Happening I decided to excavate some of the original High Priests material which had been scattered to the wind. It was Grunge time and I and a mad drummer from Oxford and even madder guitarist formed the greatest racket makers this side of the Thames Valley.

The Single:

sleeveHP

The Story….

Formed in 1990 and hitting the shambling but right track soon after ‘The High Priests’ took their name from a Alex Chilton record.

Looking for the missing link between Garage Punk, Power Pop and Sun-era Rock n, Roll they avoided rehearsing and playing live until 1993 when the above live first-take recordings were laid down at London’s infamous Toerag Studios under the genius care of one Liam Watson ( more famous recently for his work with The White Stripes amongst others).

Thinking they’d made the greatest wigout garage classic ever the bass-less trio span wildly out of control at a succession of dingy North London pub venues before exploding in a bewildering cacophany of feedback mid song at a Piao Festival in Hammersmith London where the head honcho of Rough Trade was seen to physically grimace and walk away in despair…

All in all a thoroughly glorious failure as befits a drunken blues bunch…

A 7″ was released through Southern Distribution in 1993 featuring ‘Ice Cream Town’ b/w ‘Black Swans Sink’.

It was a bloody racket according to noted noise merchant Billy Childish and graced a sleeve by the designer of Stereolab Sleeves. As only 1000 were pressed and most disappeared along with guitarist Tim Featherstone who has never been heard of since*…

It could be a collector’s item or it could be crap…who knows…. the band members are still searching for that rare single and the master tape of the High Priests session recorded at Toe-Rag Studios London with Liam… a mix of punk and blues with heavy Moe Tucker like drumming and no bass player….hmmm…a full ten years before the White Stripes and the Black Keys…maybe if we’d had a colour in their name …… the High Priests ‘complete’ works are to be released on Tstar Records sometime soon……you have been warned…

* we found him recently but still no date for the repackaging of the HP’s greatest hit..and please do not confuse with the London band of same name ( we had the idea first:-)

Horseshoe Tapes 001 1987

 

 

 

 

From Lie of The Land 1987 HST001

Side one.

THE RIVER WINDS
THE WORDS OF WINTER
NOW THAT YOU ARE GONE
IT FLYS AWAY
THE HOUSE THAT DIED

side two.
KEEPERS KEEP US STILL
THE LIE OF THE LAND
VALLEY OF GRAIN
FENCES FALL
SAD INSIDE

Recorded Harvey Road. London N8 April 1986 – August 1987

John Clare’s Dream

John Clare’s Dream Norwegian Grammy Nomination

Claudia Scott’s album ‘John Clare’s Dream’ with a  title track I co-wrote was nominated for a Spellemann (Norwegian Grammy). We came second…

johnclare

2006

Claudia Scott has released a new album in Norway entitled ‘John Clare’s Dream’ after the Shaun Belcher song lyric of same name she has interpreted on the album.

John Clare’s Dream, rx Claudia’s 5th album was released on the 18th of September.

Claudia has chosen a more acoustic approach for this album, sale playing acoustic guitar, mandolin and harmonica. Her long time collaborator and producer Erik Honoré, and band mates Tom Rudi Torjussen, percussion, and Jørn Raknes, guitar and steel-guitar, give a refined accompaniment to Scott’s soulful songs. Special guests on the album are Vidar Ersfjord on piano and Mari Persen on violin.

A true pleasure for long autumn nights!

http://www.claudiascott.com/

LINK | LYRIC The Critics on John Clare’s Dream

Scott Still Maintains a High Standard Birgitte H. Mandelid DagbladetWith her fifth album, Claudia Scott keeps her position as Norway’s foremost performer in her genre, and she is quite alone in mastering the field in which she operates.Scott’s pop rock has roots in traditional Americana, but in dialogue with her longtime collaborator Erik Honore’s modern production and live samples, her music also looks outwards and ahead to the future. “Melancholy and Me” is painfully beautiful, “Lazy Afternoons”, relaxed and laid-back, while “A Storm’s Coming”, like nature’s forces, simultaneously rhythmical, deliberate and reserved, The acoustic approach suits Scott’s natural voice very well, whether she’s belting it out or subtle and warm. The result is a open and unostentatious album. It is making it sound so easy, – so effortless – that is Claudia Scott’s strength.

The Real Thing–Recommended! Terje Haugen DagningenClaudia Scott has done well as a solo artist. On her fifth album you can hear why. She keeps, with no doubt, high standards as a writer and still sets her goals high as a singer. On this album she has successfully chosen to explore acoustic sounds, and as a result, her voice is in the foreground, where “Lazy Afternoons” is a good example. The album’s laid-back, sophisticated ambiance rules over the eleven songs of the album. The title track, “John Clare’s Dream,” is a fine tribute to the English poet of the same name, and also one of the album’s many strong pearl candidates. This is a diverse piece of work, both in regard to content and lyrics, where the choice has been to take elements from both jazz and roots and mix them together, without choosing any particular genre. But it sounds real and has enough substance to fascinate a listener.

Intimate and poetic Geir Hovensjø OstlendingenThe difference between Claudia Scott and most other Norwegian singer/songwriters is plainly that she is the best. On her (fifth) album she has taken the music completely down and given it an acoustic approach, with added flying sample sounds that create a kind of dreamy mood, just as Vidar Busk on his last albums, but of course completely different. Claudia performs her songs with confidence and frames them in an original, imaginative and unique way. It sounds real and honest, the way it’s meant to be. The title track is a tribute to the English poet John Clare (1793-1864), and poetry is a significant element in Claudia’s music.

Acoustic Pearls: Refined and Eclectic

Claudia Scott’s career as a solo artist topped in the nineties. Her new album, which is being released today, is more acoustic than before. it perfectly suits her music and makes her even more visible as a fine songwriter. She varies the mainstream of folk-oriented tracks with excellent vocal jazz segments like “Melancholy and Me” and “Lazy Afternoons,” which give the album variation and nerve, in the same way the piano and violin accompanies the guitar-based music. Claudia’s expressive voice is nevertheless in focus. One of the finest tracks on the album is the title track, “John Clare’s Dream,” where she pays tribute to the English poet John Clare. But also the more quiet “On my Own” makes a deep impression. Throughout the entire album the use of percussion and very discreet electronica helps create the necessary contrast to the enticing sound that dominates the album.

Trailer Star – The Novel

log.jpg

Started writing Trailer story as a kind of musical detective….expect the film rights soon…
First page of trailer star novel / screenplay? 

Trailer Star: Moon over the Downs

 

Each drip off the corrugated plastic sheeting made a tinny sound that he could hear from deep within the damp sleeping bag and layers of blankets where he was trying to sleep. He could picture the 1953 Coronation picture tray (each royal face worn to a rusted halo) where it lay propped against the side of the caravan under the makeshift porch. He saw each drop collect in his mind’s eye as it hovered on the broken edge and then fell from the cracked sheet. It was too cold to get up and do anything about it so he pulled the blanket back and in the dark caught a glimpse of the VHS recorder’s timer a blurry phosphorous lime green glow. 3.12. He groaned and mumbled a curse about February weather groaned again and was gone. Sliding in his dream back to the childhood garden behind the biscuit factory…crumbs of comfort on a crimson tablecloth…sugar in a bowl…iced gems…ants…blankness

The mangy mongrel from the next door caravan woke him up with a wheezing bark more like its owner’s cough at 7 a.m. From deep in the damp cocoon he could hear it dragging at its lead as the postman’s footsteps on the gravel path and the swish of his tyres trundled off to the far caravans. Some muffled words, healing a banging door and silence again. The cold had seeped into his sleeping bag and through the sagging and wrinkled skin to his bones. He stayed wedged inside the dark cocoon not wanting to freeze his head even more in the brittle light. Then the old sod next door started turning over his old Rover’s engine for what seemed like eternity before it sprang into a half-life of churning rusted pistons and oil leaks. It crunched off across the gravel road and onto the tarmac road that ran by the river and was soon a faint hum on the edge of silence.

 

7.10 blinked repeatedly from the recorder as he finally peeped one eye out from the sleeping bag. A cloud of steam marked his breath as it rose up to cloud the inside of the frosted and dirty window above his head. God he hated February. Ice that formed on the inside of the windows would puddle on the sills before dripping in grey lines down the walls. Still sleeping in his coat for warmth he slowly shed his covers like a butterfly emerging from its caterpillar skin. He tottered half upright and half awake-half asleep on the edge of the sagging bed and fumbled instinctively for where his lighter and Rizla papers were. It took ten minutes for his frozen fingers to roll the meagre tobacco into something like a decent ‘rolly’ that crackled as lit it. Yellow fingers shook as he brought it up to his mouth. February …Jesus wept ..another winter like this and he wouldn’t see the next one and no tours, ailment no money in the overdrawn account..he was living on borrowed time..he knew it…they’d turn up one day and find him frozen to the inside of the caravan and have to chip the ice from his eyes….maybe even carry him out stiffer than that guitar case propped against the door to stop some bastard getting in at night….he grimaced licked spit from his fingers and hacked his first clean breath of the morning deep into his lungs…so deep it hurt…

2003

« Older posts