A Yorkshireman of a certain age who likes most genres of music and most makes of old car. Travel is a joy, not least to escape the British winter. Travel by bicycle is bliss and if I’m not lost in music then I’m lost in a daydream about a hot day, tens of miles to cover and the promise of a great campsite and a beer. I like to think I’m always learning and becoming wiser. However, on the latter point evidence is in short supply.
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After Anna’s ankle break it’d been a while since we’d got abroad and when we did we added another Canary Island to our tally, Gran Canaria in February. It was grand (geddit??) to get abroad and out of the British winter. The island follows the usual pattern of being a big parched rock (in the middle) and towns on the coast. We stayed in Las Palmas, which is quite a large settlement (ninth largest town in Spain) with some attractive bits. I got along the northern coast on one day on a rented bike.
(breathing in…)
Meeting up with some friends holidaying there was delightful but soon we were heading back to Blighty. We’ve got lots of trips now scheduled for the year, starting with Texas in April. Did I hear Yee haw?
Anna, Jude and Peter
My football addiction is still a problem and Leeds United torture me with their possibility of getting promoted. As they say it’s the hope that kills. The present Mrs Ives and myself have been down to the shrine to see a couple of games. One was the unbelievable 7-0 victory over Cardiff City. Leeds United had last won so convincingly in 1972 beating Southampton 7-0. I was there as well. We have more tickets to go and hopefully they’ll keep the promotion show on the road.
Anna’s research, as previously noted, has found some cousins, three in fact. These are folk who I’ve either never met or not talked to for fifty years. Delightfully we all came together in London to have a meal. It was rewarding to bring all together and be amongst the youngest.
Sadly though, I’m not that young. I clocked up 70 at the beginning of the month. How the hell that’s happened I have no idea. For some reason Facebook dropped my birthday details from my profile and I avoided getting hilarious comments about getting a telegram from the King and any birthday cake being a considerable fire risk. It seems to be an age that people celebrate and cards and WhatsApp’s were lovely to receive although it’s only through the insistence of the family that any celebrations were held! The festivities included a family meal with close relatives and, earlier, a trip to the theatre and a meal at one of our favourite Indian restaurants (Bundobust) in Leeds. ‘Calamity Jane’ was fun at The Grand although being barked at by an usher to stop taking photos was unsettling for those around me in the dark!
Quick snap before the Gestapo arrived…
I treated myself to a new record turntable as my present to me. You’re uncomfortably into four figures for a good one and the main trick on this model (Rega P6) is the glass platter the vinyl spins on. It’s all about taking out the vibrations and movement so you hear everything that’s in the grooves. Needless to say I’m having a wonderful time spinning records.
The gateway to joy
Talking about records I’ve been selling a number of records on eBay for a good friend who’s disposing of the surplus discs she doesn’t want to keep. Up to press the gross figure for 29 sales is £700. Ever concerned to avoid complaints I meticulously check and play the records before listing, take and publish ample photographs of the vinyl and sleeves and then despatch with sufficient packaging to ensure a safe revival.
I appreciate that you have an interest in my TV viewing habits, thank you, and it’d be selfish not to share my enthusiasm for ‘Outback Truckers’. Here rough and ready Aussies, usually rough, drive enormous American trucks around the country often with several trailers (road train) through rain, floods and impossible mud. Each story usually has a deadline or mishap. One trucker had a 25 ton car crusher press on the back of a trailer, which enabled him to compress the vehicle before loading it on another trailer. I can imagine you’ll be tuning into the ‘5 Action Channel’ (Channel 33, one of those innumerable channels you never knew you had.)
Isabella continues to delight and I leave you with a photo of her departing to bed, fully laden.
Folk/roots musicians are getting more mainstream recognition of late. Billy Strings, Rhiannon Giddens and Molly Tuttle come to mind but Hull could easily join this pantheon. Her talent on the mandolin, with an attractive voice, has already garnered awards but she’s not prolific and this is her first album in five years. Here she’s written or co-written ten songs and co-produced this acoustic record as a self release. Often the decision to release an album independently is the artist’s only option but after decades on Rounder Records Hull wanted the freedom that route gave her.
On A Tip Toe High Wire she’s added tunes that aren’t solely from a pure roots tradition and it’s lifted the whole experience. The intricacy and deftness of bluegrass in the musicianship, however, has been maintained. The quality of the playing strikes you immediately and Hull has used her touring band in the studio. Their empathy and familiarity with each other are evident as the solos and arrangements seem organic to the structure. Let’s Go is as intricate as a piece of jazz with different paces and rhythms. Her vocals, back in the mix, enable you to focus on some sensational playing. Come Out Of My Blues is a positive lyric about seizing the day. It catches fire after her initial verse. Tim O’Brien (Hot Rize) helps out and the band cut a rug with some memorable fiddle from Avery Merritt.
From earlier in her recording career she attributes her growing confidence to lead a band to advice from Béla Fleck, who urged her to step forward. On E Tune, as one of her heroes and influences, he joins the band on banjo for this instrumental. Again a sophisticated rhythm grabs your attention and the drama builds as the song progresses. She’s a capable lyricist and takes inspiration from her family. Spitfire is a homage to her grandmother who’s triumphed through many adversities. Muddy Water is a beautiful ballad that reminds you, for its gossamer wing fragility, of Alison Krauss. It’s a sweet melody that her voice nails and its lyric of finding strength within ourselves, when the time comes, captures a sentiment of support and affection that runs through many of the compositions. Not least she brings her mandolin to the fore whilst Erik Caveney, on bass, anchors the whole piece. Similarly, Redbird is a cathartic melodic starburst that arrives toward the end of the album. I have to repeat myself and say that if you’re a fan of Alison Krauss this is another track you’ll love.
This release is very much a collaborative affair, which summarises Hull’s approach and I’ve found the whole album gives up more on repeated listens. It seems I have one for my end of year list already.
The nave was brightly lit in the 19th century East Yorkshire church where the duo delivered a beautiful set of 16 songs of American roots music dipping into country, folk and swing jazz. Ashley Campbell, the daughter of Glen Campbell, and Thor Jensen have been a duo since 2021. My awareness of Campbell came via a documentary (Glen Campbell:I’ll Be Me) about her father’s later life and his developing Alzheimer’s. It was an emotional roller coaster for those around him, not least of the joys, yet trials, of his touring with a failing memory. My other recollection of her came when she released 2020’s Something Lovely, a tuneful country folk release that was quite contemporary. Her sound, now, is very much of a talented acoustic guitar and banjo player singing less contemporary but more folk roots music. Jensen, in many ways her foil on the night, is a virtuoso guitarist with an attractive tenor who’s been immersed in the New York jazz scene yet plays several genres. Instrumentally they complement each other and their easy humour was a pleasure to hear as they talked about Yorkshire, the USA and Northern Ireland.
The latter place is where they recorded their debut album Turtle Cottage. It’s from here that most of the songs played on the night come from. Jensen’s slightly jaw dropping talent comes in his guitar playing. When not playing chords he picks with outstanding dexterity and subtlety; you can imagine him in full flight playing Django Reinhardt gypsy jazz. Turtle Cottage is just the pair of them playing and so the replication is complete here. Campbell’s voice is light, warm and intimate and the night starts with A Song By Vampires For Vampires that’s surprisingly a love song (!)
Two instrumentals are included that add to their credentials as great players (Edge Of The World and Exit Zero) but the whole set is usually the intertwining voices usually replete with harmonies. Perfectly Alright is a highlight of this. Goodbye Cowboy is the nearest we get to 60s country with some captivating Latin guitar picking that documents a sad parting. The audience of over 100, who’ve enjoyed the church having quite regular eclectic concerts including Bernard Butler, make an audible sigh of pleasure as Campbell starts to pick the opening notes of Gentle On My Mind. Whether said or not it seems a tribute to her father. Tank and Babe is an energetic romp about a relationship that failed despite the best of intentions. It has a Joni Mitchell Raised on Robbery vibe of breathless levity and neat couplets telling of the couples’ shortcomings.
Asking the audience, for the encore, whether they wanted a Tom Waits or Willie Nelson cover was only going to get one answer wasn’t it? Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain closes the evening and we shuffle out into the dark and dank evening warmed and having been entertained in the presence of this accomplished pair.
Isbell is a busy boy and seemingly peripatetic. Late 2024 saw him performing at the Democratic National Convention to nominate a US Presidential candidate. From here it was over to Europe for some gigs (including appearing in front of me in Stockton with his band, the 400 Unit, in late November.) Next year sees him embark on a long international solo tour including London and finishing in Australia. In October he spent five days in New York at the legendary Electric Lady Studio (Jimi Hendrix, Stevie Wonder, David Bowie, Adele and Taylor Swift) recording a solo album. You’d worry that the quality of his creative output would slip with his schedule but the needle is still well away from the red zone on the gauge judging by this release.
Isbell delivers eleven songs of heart torn melancholia and contemplation on a 1940 acoustic Mahogany D-17 Martin guitar. I’d grown used to him shredding his Telecasters or Gibsons with the 400 Unit and creating some epic, layered and dramatic rock: here it’s the voice and the tunes that attract your attention. Such is Isbell’s talent on an acoustic six string that when coupled to the arrangements he could have released these tracks as instrumentals and you’d still be engaged.
Lyrically there are first person conversations or reminisces that reflect a state of mind rather than tell you a complete story. After the ending of his marriage in 2023, to Amanda Shires, it’s not unnatural to think they influenced the work. Each song gives up more after several listens as you try and interpret the story. Some are plainer to understand such as Good While It Lasted, a love song drips regret or the chipper Don’t Be Tough that lists situations and how you should respond, usually with less judgement and more giving. Foxes In The Snow is another love song where both parties evaluate the other. Gravelweed offers probably the strongest tune with a sublime chorus but there isn’t a weak moment on the album musically.
I’ve long thought that Isbell is amongst the current family of Americana royalty. He’s received many awards and I feel, in his case, they’re well earned. As for many others I often feel other recipients are propelled to the podium by large record company budgets. This comfortably slips into his current canon and doesn’t push the envelope to new areas in terms of his established vocal delivery, lyrical naval gazing, types of tune and song structure. It’s a continuation but stripped back with less pyrotechnics. Outstanding.
Recently the snow fell and the news channels ramped up the advent of Armageddon for all living creatures with an ‘Amber Warning’. The snow basically lasted a morning before melting and we were left with some patches as the temperatures fell later that week. It seems that all my summers were sunny and hot when I was a child and then I do recollect my early years of driving were regularly in ice and snow. Something heavier and more dangerous than our recent fleeting flurry. Such was my proficiency I managed to drive my Triumph Spitfire into another car as my windscreen refroze. Does anyone remember that de-icer spray that worked for 5 minutes before turning, again, to ice! I then drove a Ford Sierra, with my nephew in the car, through a fence into a field fortunately missing two large trees. I achieved my hat trick of icy misadventure by spinning a Jaguar XJ6 on black ice using a fence as my brakes. The damage was considerable. This catalogue of errors did mean that when this sprinkling fell I was careful and expert. In our village most folk seemed to stay home and where others did venture out skidding was de rigueur. Climate warming means our preparedness and driving skills are poor when it snows. Another reason to keep our planet cold (?)
The end of the world as we know it
I was thinking that Elon Musk’s been successfully sullied by the British media and a lot of politicians because they don’t like what he says. However, why should we care what Musk says or really thinks? Undeniably the boy Musk is a loose cannon living on the spectrum with too much money and a selection of occasionally difficult political views that offend those who wish to be offended. He puts his thoughts out by X (formerly Twitter).However when we talk about his platform then how many of your family are on X? Are many/any of friends on X? If you went up the street and did a survey of your neighbours, would you find one person on X? To me it just seems only those who are political or politically inclined and in the media hang onto his every word and then relay it to the rest of the country. From here Musk gets the influence he sought.
I’m not a particular TV ‘Who Dunnit’ fan but Slow Horses was recommended and we ended up bingeing all four series. It is exceptional. This spy thriller is blessed by having Gary Oldman as the lead and Kristin Scott Thomas alongside. We had a ‘window’ of owning Apple TV after buying a mobile phone to do this. Frankly having a subscription to Netflix, Disney, Sky, Apple TV, Amazon Prime etc. is impossible and not worthwhile as it seems they seldom have a full selection of programmes to keep you interested. Don’t get me started on football being spread over five channels…
Whilst we’re talking about ne’er do wells then in Anna’s digging into my forbears we found a cousin, Malcolm. In my twenties I met him as he visited my father and sister in Leeds. I mainly recollect him being a bit flash and hiring a big car to bring him and his family up from London. However, at a young age he’d emigrated to New Zealand where he ran a ladies’ hairdressing salon until leaving for Australia to study and qualify as a lawyer in his forties. This I knew but never enquired or understood his branch of the law. It seems that the Australian police did and there’s quite a lot written up about him. The Parliament of the Commonwealth of Australia set up a Royal Commission of Inquiry into Drug Trafficking, which reported in early 1983. The narrative says that he was the lawyer who moved money around for one of the ‘Mr Big’s’ in this organised trade of importing narcotics from the Far East into country. Apart from enormous sums of money involved this activity involved many players, some of whom were convicted for murder. Malcolm, was interviewed by the authorities and his nefarious actions identified. I would like to track things further to see if he did time but our trail has gone cold. If he’s alive he’s 88 years old.
Lastly, Over Christmas and the New Year we saw a lot of our daughters and husbands over in York. It was lovely but I did reflect that many years ago, when they started courting and boyfriends visited with them, I was unenthusiastic (and out voted by Anna) that they should share a bedroom, let alone a bed, whilst under our roof. I need not have worried, things change. With the priority of actually sleeping, conflicting types of bed preferences and a light sleeping baby they split up and utilised all our bedrooms as they all slept alone!
Someone who was always sleeping by herself had a lovely Christmas and her favourite present was Grandma’s pan drawer.
Gosh, it’s time, slightly belatedly, to tell you about my best picks for 2024. As usual I received a steady flow of download MP3 files of country and americana music from Country Music People or from various US public relation companies who randomly sent their client’s music to me. Added to this was music I purchased, nearly all of it was from previous years and decades. In this category I mainly bought second hand or new vinyl plus a few CDs and the odd download. I don’t subscribe consistently to a streaming service: I just can’t get along with curating my music that way.
Frankly this all adds up to about 170 albums. That’s between 5 or 6 full days of sound. How do I listen to them all? No I haven’t yet! I will eventually get through them all and some won’t be worthy but I diligently try to listen to all I receive. I remember a phrase applied to an album was that it was a ‘grower’. Frankly I’m sure I’ve got many albums I’ve played only once and maybe with more listening i might have elevated their rating, but hey ho there are only so many hours in the day. So here is my flawed highlights of the year…
Silverada
Texan Mike Harmeier’s metamorphosis from Mike and the Moonpies’ straight country to the country rock/americana of Silverada was ‘light the blue touch paper’ moment for me. This combination of epic grooves, squally guitar solos and interesting stories with country tinges was completely my bag. Loved it all year.
2. Johnny Blue Skies – Passage du Desir
I was sceptical of the publicity that accompanied Sturgill Simpson’s release. However, this is a stellar release that made it worth the wait and his sojourn to Paris to find some wonderful tunes, rock vibes, muscular guitar playing and blue eyed soul was a great detour.
3. Heather Little – By Now
This singer songwriter release alighted in my inbox and I was captivated from the first play with the mellifluous vocals, fine arrangements and melodies. Apparently she’s a songwriter for others but she has all the talent to be the main act.
4. Maggie Rose – No One Gets Out Here Alive
After 100 appearances at The Grand Old Opry this Nashville stalwart has moved toward americana/soul; her voice is a siren and the album was so sumptuous and drenched in melodies that I couldn’t resist.
5. Beyoncé – Cowboy Carter
No, never a country album, however, all the fuss about it drove it into my orbit and I had a good listen. This icon really is steeped in many genres and this album illustrated many of them from a little line dancing to straight soul often with many beguiling stops in between. Truly a crafted opus.
6. 49 Winchester – Leavin’ This Holler
A tight country rock delight with excellent tunes and lyrics from mainman Isaac Gibson. He tells a variety of love songs and tales of life on the road. The band coalesce around his lead and make one of my most enjoyable listens this year.
7. William Alexander – The Singing Stockman
He makes a living moving cattle in New South Wales. Here, he picks up his guitar and beautifully sings Western. His simple arrangements place you in the middle of the Outback dealing with blistering temperatures, brutal hours and dreaming of weekends.
8. Glenn Campbell Duets – Ghost On The Canvas Sessions
One of Campbell’s last releases was reworked with inserted duets. The fine tunes, arrangements and production add to the pathos. He sings of his impending drift away and its impact on loved ones as Alzheimer’s takes him over. Brave and touching.
9. Billy Strings – Highway Prayers
Our Bill is now a major international draw with his complex and expert bluegrass. Who thought banjos, fiddles, mandolins and acoustic guitars could sell out stadiums? This high energy mix of finger frenzy and country tunes has considerable charm and stands clear of the pack.
10. English Teacher – This Could Be Texas
A Mercury Prize winner is usually a turn off as an uncommercial indulgence by those music critics who live on the fringe of anything interesting or remotely durable in appeal. However these winners made a complex and densely packed rock record that was worthy of slotting in beside Steely Dan, The Editors and Moloko. Something to explore and extract more pleasure from on each listen.
Here’s my year through letters of the alphabet although dreaming up a skirmish with a zebra for the ‘Z’ did prove elusive! As always it’s been a good year, but ‘A” does begin the alphabet with a fall…
Austria certainly changed the year. On a forest mountain path, near Hinterglemm, Anna stepped onto a tree root and broke her ankle in two places. From here mountain rescue retrieved her and we eventually got to York District Hospital five days later, at 4am, to start the proper treatment. Anna has worked hard, recovered really well and is making great progress. This journey was blogged – click the link.
Books. I’ve read Slow Horses (Fiction – M Herron), A Bit Of A Stretch (Prisoner journal – C Atkins), Abroad In Japan (Living in Japan – C Broad), We Need to talk About Xi (China Politics – M Dillon), Decline & Fall: Diaries 2005 – 2010 (Politics – C Mullin), Hundred Year Marathon (China Politics – M Pillsbury), Why Can’t We All Just Get Along (Social musing – I Dale), Politics On The Edge (Politics – R Stewart) and Becoming (Biography – M Obama.)
Cousins meet up. Anna has been enthusiastic about genealogy and researched both sides of our family in. On my side an illegitimate child and a criminal have come to light but more pleasing but maybe less exotic some cousins have been found. My mother was one of six and the youngest. Anna found two cousins from my Uncle Jack who I had known albeit I think I last saw and spoke to them fifty years ago. From my Uncle Bert, a man I have no recollection of having met (and if he met me then I was a baby/toddler) came Bernice. Our meet ups have been nostalgic, educational and informative. Here’s to more relatives!
Departed. This year has been light on deaths but I recollect a call to a friend (Lyndon) in London, when beside the road on my bike leaving Mildura in Victoria, Australia at 5am, to learn the chap who introduced me to publishing album reviews had died. His website and podcast were The Americana Music Show. Calvin was 58 and lived in North Carolina. The other news came via a Facebook post. Duncan Warwick, the owner, editor and main contributor at Country Music People also succumbed to cancer after a very short illness. This is the magazine I write for. He was 63 years old. I knew he had health challenges but didn’t anticipate this.
Expedition. I loved another long bike ride from Sydney to Canberra and then onto Adelaide. This was through the Australia I liked: working folks, big distances, big skies, great campsites and unbelievable memories. My February and March 1,100 miles are much covered elsewhere on this website. Click the link there are several blog from beginning to end.
Flight. A memorable visit was to the Duxford Air Museum. Apart from many exhibits of aircraft from bi-planes, military vehicles to Concorde there was a Spitfire and Hurricane taking off and landing on the runway. The vastness and breadth of the exhibits was engrossing. Having driven past it so many times on the M11 it was about time we popped in. Fabulous.
Gigs. There were plenty and even a couple in the USA. The list included Molly Tuttle, Tommy Emmanuel, The Average White Band, Julie Roberts (in Nashville), Lionel Richie (In Memphis), Kiki Dee, Guy Davis, Blackberry Smoke, Crowded House, Jason Isbell & The 400 Unit. Which was best? I enjoyed them all bar The Pretenders but Nathanial Rateliff and the Night Sweats bordered on astonishing.
Holidays. As retired folk then this is always on our mind and you’ll see the 2024 ones listed here. 2025 has already got Texas and France booked. France will be in the Morgan via the ferry, thanks to one of P&O’s promotions.
Isabella Isla. Our granddaughter continued to delight and she clocked up 12 months on Planet Earth in early December. A beautiful child with a lovely temperament being brilliantly brought up by her hard working parents. Her smile can melt away a number of problems although as she now becomes mobile she’s generating a few! Next year will be another interesting year.
Journey. Cycling keeps me fit, lets me see the world and provides great pleasure. Inevitably I get a number of injuries to keep the local physios busy; the main worry I always have is whether I can get back on my bike asap! Since 1994 I’ve cycled over 103,000 miles. In 2024 it was 4,200 miles.
Kangaroos. On February 23rd I truly lived the dream. It was an 84 miles ride between Temora and Narrandera in NSW, Australia and it was all through flat farm land with nothing to see. I pedalled for 8 hours listening to podcasts or music wandering what the town ahead offered? As I’m deep in my own world having not seen a car or person for what seemed like hours I spied in my peripheral vision two kangaroos bounding past me silently in a parallel field. (They can move at speed!) After they got past me they crossed the road and disappeared into a wood. That’s why I do it.
Last Guide Tour. I enjoyed my time as a tour guide. It got the adrenalin flowing and I’ve seen much of Yorkshire, Northumberland and The Cotswolds. Most of the guests were interesting and fun to be with. The company I worked for veered between supportive and kind to disorganised and deceptive. This is why I ended the work, however, I learned a lot and have some great memories.
Madeira. We were there for a few nights in April. What a lovely island. I’d thought it may be very similar to the Canary Islands but it was quite different with more to see. A super break. Highly recommended.
Narrandera. This small town in New South Wales was a stopover as I headed from Sydney to Adelaide. With the use of the Talksport App I was able to listen to Leeds United vs Leicester City as I cycled the next morning. I listened to live commentary of an evening match. We won this table top clash but from here our season drifted into disappointment. If there was one addiction I could kick then supporting this damn team would be the one!
Peeved. So many of these entries are significant events but one thing that stuck with me from the year was a testy conversation with a bar owner in Rome. With Neil and Paul I entered a bar close to our accommodation and ordered drinks. The barmaid who took the order didn’t pour our drinks but, behind the bar, washed glasses, moved things around and then disappeared! After some time I got frustrated and suggested we leave. So we ambled down a narrow street home when a short woman appeared asking why we’d left the bar after ordering the drinks? Here was a small woman facing up to three men in the dark; it seemed unusually brave. We told her clearly about the lousy service and she countered that it was being sorted but in an adjacent room! I was impressed by her ‘front’ if not their service and so we wandered back to have a drink.
Older. As I clocked up 69 years in March I was now older than both my father and paternal grandfather when they died. It seemed profound. Let’s hope I can stretch the gap!
Qatar Airways. The bastards stopped me boarding a flight to Doha, and then onto Sydney. The reason was the condition of my passport. Anna had washed it in Queensland but despite being a little weary it’d since got me in and out of New Zealand, through Australia and in and out of Spain and Portugal since it’s ‘wash’. To find that you’re bounced at Check In was devastating. I had to reschedule and rebook at considerable cost.
Records. I never threw away my vinyl records when from the 1980s they went out of fashion. Viva the CD! However, they’re back and riffling through racks in second hand stores is a joy whether in Yorkshire, Australia or the USA. This year I acquired a further 47 discs. I think I will do a blog on this next year.
Sightseeing. A trip in October to Rome with Paul and Neil was to see the Vatican, Colosseum, Pantheon, Tiber etc. As very old friends we’d started meeting up in London for a meal and then progressed to a few nights in Malaga. This year it was Rome. See the blog on the website – click the link.
Tennessee – In late May Anna and I flew to Nashville. Here we saw the sights and heard a little music before driving to Memphis to do the same. I was last here in 2015. Later we flew out to Georgia to see my niece and family before driving back to Nashville via the Smoky Mountains. It was good to get my regular dose of America. This is written up elsewhere on the website – click this link.
Victoria. Amongst my annual highlights was to ride a bike in Savannah, Georgia and then back in Yorkshire later in the year with my niece. The first time. The USA ride was on the flat at pace on a titanium framed bike her husband, Ben, provided. The UK trip was around our house. Such a memory. Oh yes, she’s a lot better than me!
Writing.My monthly album reviews keep me sharp and working to deadlines. I write at least three reviews a month. Most of the artists I’ve, frankly, never heard of before which means lots of research to knock out c350 words per record. All this is for Country Music People. It’s part of my life.
X Factor. A surprising but complete delight was a visit to Leeds Playhouse to see Opera North’s My Fair Lady. Lerner and Loewe’s adaptation of a George Bernard Shaw play hit Broadway in 1956 and was one of the golden age of musicals. This cast did a wonderful job and re-ignited my enthusiasm for live theatre.
Nashville based singer songwriter, Liv Greene, possesses a siren of a voice that she puts to good use on introspective, sentimental and revealing songs; accompanying herself on acoustic guitar. Whilst still in her mid-twenties she’s created a career and been on a journey of discovery and developed growing confidence about herself, her sexuality and as a musician.
What we have here are ten tender melodies mainly about her feelings on romance and nascent relationships. In Deep Feeler she tells of her own emotional proclivities and the effect it can have on others. However, for all the interesting words it’s a stunning musical start. You’re introduced to her beautiful voice that can tug you in various directions depending on the story. She says she wanted to create an album that showed her as vulnerable in a sparse landscape. It’s certainly all that and whilst the acoustic instrumentation is light her voice is a seductive sound that you’ll want the opportunity to concentrate on.
The mood throughout is mainly reflective as she strums and the upright bass pulses behind her, however, on Katie the voice delivers the tune but some blue tinged picked notes show her musicality on six strings to give this real warmth and some sparse violin waits in the shadows to enhance the sweetness. Given she produced this then evident is a real talent, not least as an arranger. I’ve Got My Work To Do is straight country with a little electric guitar and it possesses a lot more verve. Here she’s joined by Sarah Jarosz on mandolin and harmony vocals. Jarosz is also found on You Were Never Mine,another song of angst with a chorus that delights.
This second album should provide a platform for her to get a bigger audience. There are many women singer songwriters over the last 50 years who’ve provided a template for Greene but Olive Klug, Jaimee Harris and Courtney Marie Andrews come to mind as talented contemporaries. I think we’ll be hearing a lot more of her and hopefully on our shores before too long.
For those tracking Anna’s rehabilitation after breaking her ankle on an Austrian mountain side in August then she’s been signed off by her consultant and is doing well. Her independence has returned i.e. can drive. Predictably, her ankle still needs physiotherapy and dedication to a regime to continue the improvement in flexibility and strength. She’s been stoic and patient and her rewards are now plain to see. Hopefully this will enable us to plan a little more and get some holidays booked.
An important visitor came to Chateau Ives and is now becoming highly mobile!
Son-in-law, Harry, received his Master’s degree in Engineering in the wonderful setting of The Bridgewater Hall in central Manchester last month. He’s worked hard and gained another qualification, well done! He’s musing about a doctorate now.
Sadly, a man who played an important part in my monthly schedule died after a short illness at the age of 63. The editor at Country Music People magazine, Duncan Warwick, passed away after a short illness. In 2017 I made a speculative call to him and after he checked my writing I was reviewing for the magazine and on the news stand. I enjoy the monthly work with its need for research and deadline requirements. It also kept me nicely abreast of what was happening in Country music and Americana. Given that Duncan was the editor, owner and main contributor there is a large gap to fill.
Next magazine cover
My last post was an article I wrote for my first company’s (Aveling Marshall) magazine. This prompted me to travel to Newark in early November to look around a heritage tractor show. Not only were there Marshall tractors on display but Ford ones as well. After I left Aveling Marshall I went directly to Ford Tractor Operations and spent six years there. It was fascinating to look at tractors that still had components on them that I bought from the UK, Germany and Spain back in the day. Very nostalgic.
Over the last few weeks there has been plenty of live music to report. Crowded House at the O2 in London were exceptional. The songs, including new ones, were fabulous and the banter fun. The Pretenders in Nottingham was plain disappointing. Chrissie Hynde was fully intact and arsy at the majestic age of 73. She bashed through lots of newer thrashy stuff and was parsimonious with the ‘hits’. I wasn’t the only disappointed attendee. Guy Davis an old black bluesman played Selby Town Hall. On acoustic guitar he worked through a catalogue of his own tunes and some blues standards. He had lots of personality and managed an obligatory pre-election rant about Trump. (I’ve heard several from the stage over the years.) Needless to say that went well didn’t it! Savannah Gardner, an aspiring country singer at a small venue in York was terrific and then we drove up to Stockton to see Jason Isbell. Maybe a name not known to many outside of Americana and Country circles, however, a major star who delivered a fabulous rock fuelled collection of observations about America and relationships. I will be knocking up my Top 10 shortly.
Lastly, I am not a foodie but we had a delicious lunch in North Yorkshire at the Abbey Inn at Byland Abbey. I do like a nice meal with the first wife but we seldom push the boat out. Given the festive time of year it was truly time to propel the vessel toward the water and in biblically wet and gale force weather we drove up the country lanes north of York. It’s a Tommy Banks’ establishment and after smoked mackerel pâté on sourdough, as a starter, I chose one of his famous pies. (He recently had a van stolen with 2,500 of them in it. The loss was terrible but the publicity priceless on TV and radio.) Mine was a sumptuous braised beef and blue cheese one with vegetables. Needless to say this would have got stuck in my throat without a little lubrication. This was overcome with a draught pint of blonde ale from Helmsley Brewing Co. Still finding room I couldn’t resist a dessert, a chocolate delice. This outing won’t cheer the daughters. Paying for it meant denting their inheritance with a hefty clout. But hey, you only live once!
A new record from Johnson is an exciting event, not least because it’s his first solo release in 14 years. He didn’t feel the need to record but the recent passing of Toby Keith brought home the fact that he wouldn’t hear any new music from his friend and maybe he should add to his own catalogue? He’s a staple of the country music scene despite his solo recording reticence and he’s regularly found on tribute albums (John Anderson and Johnny Cash) or duetting (Blackberry Smoke and Julie Roberts). He’s a ‘go to’ artist with a voice that places him alongside Chris Stapleton with his sauntering yet soulful baritone that exudes gravitas and presence.
The title track is the first indication that you’re in the presence of greatness. A rueful heartbreak song about a lover who’s moved on is on his mind as he drives into the night. A delicious chorus over an easy rhythm that places this somewhere a couple of decades back in sound. Johnson is never hurried and he considers and lives every word he sings.
A couple of the songs cover his current condition and state of mind. Sober is a slow and bluesy ballad with a lachrymose harmonica about his continuing battle for sobriety. I’m Tired of it All with Randy Houser is a classic touring showman’s weary assessment of his life and its waning attraction. With that emotion 21 Guns mines his own military experience: he was a US Marine for six years. The lyrics are beautiful and relate to a soldier’s funeral – “And there ain’t words to say / How proud we all are of you, son / Nothing says job well done / Like twenty-one guns”.
It’s not all downbeat and Saturday Night in New Orleans, a co-write with Chris Stapleton and Tony Joe White, is an atmospheric Southern swamp funk with words that paint a picture of debauchery as a trumpet wails. Doctor John would have been proud. Most of the songs are co-writes but Trudy is a Charlie Daniels cover and blissfully rolls like Little Feat. Some funky rhythm and brass accompany a complicated story about a card game and an importune accusation of the meanest man in Dallas of cheating. Needless to say he was not impressed and our hero now fears for his life.
Johnson exudes a certain insouciance with What You Answer To. It reflects on the names you get called. There’s a play on words with being called, whether on the phone or as a name. The answer to this variety of greetings is simply to respond to the name you accept.
For all his lack of records he tours regularly and can be found criss-crossing the USA but having new material is a boost. It’s good to have him back. Let’s not leave it so long next time?
My first full time job was at a factory in Gainsborough, Lincolnshire where I joined as a graduate trainee. It was a steep learning curve going from a happy go lucky student to a salaried employee. Relatively recently I’d found a page on Facebook talking about the company, Aveling Marshall. Sadly, the company is long shut and the factory in Gainsborough is now a shopping precinct! No doubt the size and reach of the global construction and agricultural manufacturers was always going to see off a little player. In following the Facebook page I got into a conversation with the author/administrator (Ian Palmer). He asked if I’d write up my time there for a quarterly magazine he published. See below.
To make this remotely interesting for the readers of the magazine I’ve peppered it with the names of staff I worked with. Unfortunately I never did get to know the names of the two strippers…
“When Ian asked me to write about my time at Marshalls I really hadn’t thought a great deal, for 46 years, about those two years at the Britannia Works, I now realise how much that time was integral to my growing up and an early education in business. I graduated from Manchester Polytechnic in the summer of 1976, at the tender age of 21, I had no idea what I’d do but my then graduate girlfriend signed up with a recruitment agency; so I did! They found the opportunity with Aveling Marshall and I trundled down to Gainsborough to meet the Training Manager, Peter Watkins. All I knew was that they were part of Leyland Special Products. This group contained the makers of refrigeration, military personnel carriers, dump and fork lift trucks and construction equipment. He asked if I was interested in Finance or Purchasing? With little thought but aware I’d taken three attempts to pass O Level Mathematics I plumped for the latter! From here I had a second successful interview with the Purchasing Director, John Walker and on October 4 (after a telegram advising of my successful application) I turned up for work on the princely sum of £2,512 pa.
The product portfolio was the Challenger, road rollers and Track Marshalls AM 100 and 105 although new products were coming. Overall in the Purchasing Department I had three jobs: Purchase Analyst, Buyer and Senior Buyer. My recollections of the first job were the pricing up of many pages of A3 size Bills of Materials. These Bills related to machines being transferred from Aveling Barford, namely the articulated wheel loaders/shovels. The hundreds of sheets bore down into exceptional detail and I well remember pricing thousands of fasteners! Doing this today with a laptop and spreadsheet would have been easy and relatively fast. With a biro and Tippex I just about got there although I’m sure the accuracy of all these manual entries would have been dubious. Not all the time was spent in the office I had a couple of several week blocks away at a college in St Helens doing a qualification in Purchasing. I must thank Aveling Marshall for a post graduate qualification from the Institute of Purchasing & Supply.
A Track Marshall crawler tractor
Shortly after I joined a Purchasing Manager was recruited, David Forman. David loved a document and I well remember his spending what seemed weeks designing dedicated Kalamazoo cards that kept all the detail about components on them. These were stored in a special filing cabinets. I think the administrative staff in the department kept them up to date. This must have been either Pearl, Shirley or Sandra. I’m still in touch with Sandra today who is a proud grandmother who still lives local to Gainsborough. When we worked together we’d have been amazed to envisage ourselves now as grandparents! I was sat next to Lennie Auckland. Lennie was in his sixties and was a kind and helpful guy who was fiercely proud of the town and drove a three speed Ford Popular. This car seemed ancient even then! I had been given a Triumph Herald by my parents a few years earlier but using the Leyland car discount I bought a Triumph Spitfire. I’m not sure how I found the money: no doubt a lot of debt.
Other staff included David May, Steve Tonks, Dyer who delighted in answering the phone with “Dyer here”, Cameron, a Scotsman, who could have three lit cigarettes on the go as he moved around the office from desk, to filing cabinets to other offices, Neil, a Jehovah’s witness and Alan who looked after non-production purchases.
The tractors are still common on the beaches of Norfolk taking and retrieving fishing boats out of the sea. I snapped this on a holiday.
It was an era of high inflation and suppliers sought regular uplifts. In line with the Government’s Price and Incomes Policy there was a lot of bureaucracy and justification sought. (Frankly, ask a supplier to justify an increase then they can!) However, I remember being sat in John Walker’s office as he often put suppliers to the sword trying to get the increases reduced. Also, in John’s office Cathy would appear with a memo from her boss the Managing Director, Fred Clem. All Fred’s memos were on green stationary. He was an elusive figure but I well recollect a dinner where he posed all the graduates the question ‘if you had one component in stock and you had a request from a customer via the Spares/Parts department for it or you could fit it to a new tractor and sell that unit what should you do?’ The correct answer, in an industry that depended on service and equipment to work 16 hours a day, was to sell it as spares.
As I got used to turning up for work five days a week I also got used to wearing a suit and tie. I recollect trying to make the same shirt last three days before I might disappear back to Leeds for my mother to do the laundry. Eventually I moved from week day digs in Torksey to a flat in Gainsborough where I moved in with Mike Gordon, another graduate recruit. This Scot joined as a Profit Analyst. He ruefully commented, after several months, that a better title would have been Loss Analyst! The week nights seem to have been spent listening to vinyl at the top of this two storey abode and I think I wore out Boston’s first album along with Peter Gabriel’s first solo album. However, the weekends could see us drive to the metropolis that was Retford to a disco. Alternatively, it could be a trip to Cleethorpes to see The Stranglers. It was the height of punk rock and I still have all my Sex Pistols 45’s. Sunday morning saw me often donning a white shirt and any other kit and striding out to play for the mighty Real Aveling football team. I only scored once from full back and I think I can remember the exact move and how I stroked it under the ‘keeper. Clearly I never scored many goals! If that was memorable so was the night at the Social Club when two strippers were on the bill. It just seems inconceivable that today a company venue would be used for such entertainment!
‘The Indestructible caterpillar returns’ – a poster I took when I left and had mounted.
After a couple of years I became restless and started to look for a move away. I wrote to Ford Tractor Operations in Basildon to join as a buyer and was successful and departed to Essex. I eventually left Ford to study for a Master in Business in Administration full time at the University of Bradford. I didn’t return to Ford but took a job as a Purchasing Manager at a furniture manufacturer in Yorkshire. I spent 23 years here rising to be a director and moving eventually into sales, marketing and then running their nationwide cabinet installation. The company had sales in excess of £100m and was the subsidiary of an American company. Today I’m very much retired and apart from family responsibilities I like to spend time riding my bike whether in the Yorkshire Wolds, across the USA, around Australia or all over Europe.
Wonderful memories. Thank you, Ian, for this trip down memory lane.”
For those of you who followed Anna’s ankle break with concern then I’m delighted to tell you that 11 weeks after the unfortunate backwards step on to an Austrian mountain forest tree root she’s made fabulous progress. Only wearing a (ski style) boot outside she’s mobile and gaining confidence every day. It helps that she’s diligently keeping to the physio’s twice daily programme. The next big step (not literally) will be being allowed to drive. For me this will have the downside that having learned where the ladies who do her hair or nails, in the surrounding villages, reside I will no longer have to chauffeur her there and then twiddle my thumbs for an hour. I did previously report my bemusement at spinning around Tesco in search of items that I had never heard of let alone shopped for. This problem ended when Anna started to drive herself around.
Anna Louise Hamilton
Staying with the family then we continue to delight in our granddaughter. She has a sweet and fun disposition: clearly that hereditary gene can be traced to me. Although I suspect the other females in the tribe may wish to debate this. Her mother recently declared at 9 or 10 months old she had reached the ‘dog stage’. Jarring a little we sought clarification. Firstly, she’s always pleased to see you, next she watches you intensively as you eat and, lastly, she is capable of tricks. I would have previously rolled my eyes at other parents or grandparents proprietorial pride when she responds to your clapping by clapping back!
Now possessing the acceleration of a Ferrari she was retrieved from the stairs as quickly as we could!
I had to smile when Gary Richardson announced his retirement. He covered sport on the BBC Radio Four ‘Today’ programme and had his own Sunday morning show for literally decades. Moores’ (one of my former employers) hired Gary to speak at a golf dinner we hosted at The Belfry. As Sales Director I hosted the evening dinner that included lots of prizes being handed out and Gary’s talk. (No, I didn’t play but turned up in the evening!) He was very entertaining and opined to the diners that he’d once personally lent me £3,000 but hadn’t seen me since until now. However, on balance he thought it was probably money well spent to secure my long term absence! Following this night he invited my favourite eldest daughter and myself to visit the BBC studios in Shepherd’s Bush to look around and then sit with the producers whilst the Sunday morning show went out live. Great memories.
Gary Richardson
On a bike ride I recently entered in to a theological discourse in my head, or helmet to be precise. As we know Jesus is reported as laying hands on various unwell folk and suddenly their incapacity vanished. Maybe Jesus was a physio? This seemed a possibility as I have often had cause to submit to the ministrations of various practitioners around York. Their healing can be immediate and I too have ‘picked up my mat’ and scurried into the car park, poorer, but restored. Clearly not as exciting as the possibility of a miracle but, I jest ye not, my proposition needs considering.
I’m well aware that in my leadership position that my thoughts on fashion will be sought after. King Charles needs a makeover. This profound observation came after a friend’s (Bea) mother clocked up her 100th birthday. This pin sharp observer, whilst pleased to receive the card, did immediately see a likeness of the King and Queen to Albert Arkwright and Nurse Emmanuel from Open All Hours .
(Sorry if the sight of the Royal card ruins the surprise for my various readers approaching a century.)
I accept the old boy is knocking on and dealing (brilliantly) with his illness. However, whilst I’m not convinced that the Royals are overly relevant as we plod into the 21st Century I do think they could look less like a relic. Charles needs a haircut. A balding bloke with a wispy grey hair combover and a selection of suits (often creased or baggy) and tropical climate casual shirts that appear to have come from the stage wardrobe of an Agatha Christie revival simply need to go. Next time I discuss the crowd pleasing merits of Prince William in an Aston Villa away shirt…
With an album recorded at the beginning of the year Strings is back. In the interim he’s been touring and debuting the songs. A fan delight amongst comments on his social media is that they’re now recorded. His trajectory has been vertical. Widely feted by music or broadsheet media as a precocious talent; the narrative has been that he’d kicked his early years substance misuse and grew up with a taste for rock but whose heart lay in roots music after the influence of his stepfather. Always a major bluegrass act he’s now one that’s global.
We should treasure Strings for many reasons but not least because he’s made bluegrass an arena genre and brought it to many new ears. With so much pap filling the country charts and arenas it’s heartening, that with no compromises, he’s packing them in. He’s a musician who’s stretched the genre and popularised roots music with his rockstar vibe. This release, with its muscle car sleeve, is traditional roots music and throughout you are bathed in his acoustic mastery along with some other brilliant players in his band.
Strings wrote or co-wrote all 20 tracks and I’m pleased to see Thomm Jutz help out on three. The musicianship is peerless throughout with banjo (Billy Failing), bass (Royal Masat), mandolin (Jarrod Walker) and fiddle (Alex Hargreaves) keeping pace with his guitar pyrotechnics. Whilst faithful to bluegrass throughout there are a breadth of ideas and sounds within the genre. Three instrumentals sit with songs with his vocals that contain interesting lyrics whether a traditional dark and haunting bluegrass story about murder (My Alice), sad and happy love stories (Be Your Man, Don’t Be Calling Me (At 4AM) and Cabin Song), hell raising (Leadfoot) and smoking marijuana (MORBUD4ME and Catch and Release). On this latter song Strings tells of driving to a fishing spot whilst enjoying a smoke. Unfortunately, a State Trooper detains him by the side of the road and detects the dreaded weed. It’s all done with a Charlie Daniels’ comic tongue in cheek delivery à la Uneasy Rider.
Strings has a pleasing tenor voice and on occasion it’s a focus such as on Leaning on a Travellin’ Song that starts with just male harmony vocals over an acoustic guitar that delight or the sublime accapella Richard Petty (a dearly departed NASCAR racer) and Stratosphere Blues/I Believe In You where he slips from bluegrass to sophisticated folk. It’s maybe here that you detect the fingerprints of John Brion who co-produced the album with Strings. Seemingly Brion has no prior credentials in country or roots music yet has previously worked with singer songwriters such as Aimee Mann and Fiona Apple. An hour and a quarter of solid bluegrass might not be my chosen destination but this album is so sweet, jammed with melodies, phenomenal musicianship and enchanting vocals that I shall not complain as it sweeps up, royally, in the end of the year polls and awards.
After a little negotiation and the loss of one nomad, Tim, Rome was selected as the destination for old friends Paul, Neil and moi to head in October. The three of us had been friends since the 1970s and as reunions go we’d set the bar high by a sojourn to Malaga in 2023. The Italian capital ticked all the boxes for culture, cuisine, was warm in October and walkable. Inevitably I had to rise at Stupid O’Clock to attend Leeds Bradford Airport for the Jet2 flight. Sampling Yorkshire cuisine for the last time in four days I feasted on a Greggs bacon sandwich before boarding.
As a bloke with too much to say I was soon attempting to pass the two hours and 50 minutes by talking with my neighbouring passenger. She was looking around Rome with her partner before starting a cruise for a week or so from the coastal port near the city. I’m interested in people’s lives and her aubergine spiky hair sat on top of a retired Primary School music teacher. She was now spending time in more leisurely pursuits; this included playing and teaching steel drums. A long discussion ensued about the chord structures they played and how the hell you kept the lid of an oil drum in tune. Anyone earwigging this conversation would have probably found themselves shortly drifting into an unconscious state. Anyway, not the most obvious musical pursuit for someone who lived between Leeds and Wakefield.
At Fiumicino I eventually tracked down Paul, who’d flown in earlier from London, and we took a taxi to the city. The last time I caught a taxi in Rome was 1987. My honeymoon. My lasting memory was being ripped off by the driver. In fairness it was something like 40,000 Lira and it was easy when man handling a half inch wad of notes to accidentally chuck in an extra 10,000. Comfortingly there was a fixed fee of €55 and so the potential for malarky was reduced. On arrival in the centre, we were in need of hydration.
The first of the holiday
Hydration proved essential as the apartment lay at the top of 66 steps and we perched over a narrow street at a great height. Anna had taken over the search and booking after the three of us, earlier in the year, had drawn a blank on finding an affordable apartment with three bedrooms.
Checking in took 40 minutes. Andrea let us in and then began extracting further money. I had known this was coming. Sadly, our team bursar, Neil wasn’t arriving until later and the administration fell to me whilst Paul took photos and had hysterics as we progressed onto the next payment.
Andrea and a bemused victim of VRBO
In short there was a cleaning fee of just over £96 (yes, I know daylight robbery), a damage deposit of €150 and a city tax of €6 per person per day. All this required bringing up website links and the tapping in of credit card details that serially failed until the umpteenth attempt.
With Andrea considerably richer and gone we decided to procure some groceries and get another drink!
A nice drop of Baccanera
Grocery shopping needed to be thorough as living at the top of 66 steps would have had Sherpa Tenzing and Sir Edmund Hillary drawing lots to see who was popping out to get the milk. Eventually Neil arrived after being delayed by the scene of a car crash on his way. His appearance initiated the tricky allocation of rooms. Two were large with double beds and the third was adequate but more accurately described as a hutch. I’d found a random number generator on the web and we decided that the lowest number would be the loser. It was a best of five competition. (Sadly) Neil was eliminated early on leaving Paul and myself to ‘fight it out’. I’m pleased to report a happy ending with Paul securing the hutch.
Dinner was around the corner where Paul set about a steak so inadequately cooked that a good vet would have had the cow running around in no time. Neil ate the first of his several pizzas on his brief stay in Italy and my dish was so remarkable I’ve completely forgotten what it was. Sleep didn’t follow quickly as the town was buzzing and the narrow street amplified the revelling crowds below through our windows. Paul’s hutch was insulated by an internal wall and was no doubt looking at the inside of his eyelids shortly after his head hit the pillow.
Secondo Giorno
Fortified by our breakfast we ventured into the rain to find the Pantheon. This is a former temple and is a remarkable structure. It seemed the site had a few incarnations before it appeared in its current form in AD 125. The engineering blew me away as the symmetry and design given it antiquity were exceptional. Paul quickly identified the real achievement: with a nine metre round aperture in the self-supported roof the light inside the building was just about adequate on its own. Latterly it had a Christian adaptation but the scale and magnificence showed the ambition and confidence of the Romans millennia ago.
The Pantheon
Our two heroes start the video…
If we’d thought, foolishly, that visiting Rome in October would be a time of year when tourism may have abated we were oh so wrong. The city was heaving and there were a mix of Far Eastern tourists, usually wandering around with their face lit brightly by their phones as they photographed literally everything, burly Americans finding it hard to navigate the hoards due to their bulk whilst attempting to follow their tour leader who was babbling into a microphone about the finer points of the Roman Empire and South Americans who, I suspect, were here for the religious significance. And some of the Brits were struggling to cope with the concept that falling rain made you wet.
From here we dodged the raindrops and headed to the magnificent Victor Emmanual II monument. Vic was the first king of the united Italy and was a relatively recent installation; only completed in 1935. After visiting the church behind the monument, we saw where the Forum and Colosseum were before heading across the Tiber for a Vatican tour.
Scaffolding is a common sight!
As we approached the meeting point Neil received a call to say it was cancelled! There wasn’t sufficient capacity in the attraction to cater for all the tourists. It wouldn’t ‘dismantle’ our visit with disappointment but there were lots of foreign Catholic worshipping tourists who I’m sure had come to Rome as a literal pilgrimage. This confirmed how busy Rome was as a tourist destination. No matter, we absorbed the blow and pacified Neil with more pizza.
After this fine dining we were still bemused by the cancellation and visited a local ticket booking agency to confirm this was true. The Indian proprietor confirmed ‘absolutely’. He also said Rome was inexplicably busy! He recommended we wander down to St Peter’s Square and join a queue. In the continuing rain we did as he recommended. Neil was now wearing a pullover that absorbed the rain perfectly. Here we looked at the queue and spent 15 minutes trying to find the end of it and then spent 90 minutes in it. The visit to St Peter’s Basilica was worth the wait.
(Note Paul’s flat hat. Whippets were not allowed in the basilica)No sighting of Il Papa at the St Peter Basilica
It’s a remarkable structure and the marble, gold leaf and paintings are sumptuous and it must be the ‘Disneyland’ of cathedrals. Around every corner there’s a new amazing sculpture or painting. Sadly, a trip up the cupola wasn’t possible due to a service taking place.
So, as we wandered back we had a beer and Paul reviewed his restaurant options. John, a well-travelled friend of Paul’s, had given him a list and we hoped, without an earlier booking on this Saturday night, we’d be lucky.
Paul still wearing his coat (but not hat)
We were fortunate and bowled up to Hostaria Farnese. This wasn’t before confirming that Paul’s multi-tasking skills needed working on. He can either talk or navigate, but not both! We were heading in the wrong direction initially. On arrival, after photos, we had three delicious courses and a fine bottle of wine. I had a tomato and mozzarella salad followed by some roast pork and finished with some pistachio ice cream. We were asked to part with about €190. On discovering that Neil had forgotten to pack his Marigolds we had no option other than to cough up.
6.3 miles walking during the day
Giorno Tre
The sun appeared. Neil chose shorts but Paul still wore his fleece. This definitively proves that when they were youths the climate was warmer in Lancashire compared to Yorkshire with lasting effects. The objective was to get to the Colosseum early and avoid the crowds; we failed. However, we got a ticket, for free, to enter the Colosseum at 1pm. In the meanwhile, we had entry into the Forum. Frankly folks we wondered around for a little while watching all the Far Eastern tourists taking copious photos usually with themselves in the foreground. The area is a confetti of various ruins that span many centuries but mostly excavated in the 19th. After showing willing as to the project I proposed abandoning and getting a coffee that was carried unanimously.
The Forum
Traffic in Rome was predictably hectic and made no easier but quite appealing when about 100 Fiat 500’s drove past. Paul shot the video (sound on).
A noisy Fiat fiesta
The Colosseum did not disappoint. It’s a spectacular structure. It was my second visit and fortunately little had changed (!) as regards the building although the volume of tourists had exploded. Poor Anna languishing in York with her broken ankle did get to share the views as I had a video call with her.
The Colosseum
The Nomads separated (when within) and we met up an hour later to head for the Trevi Fountain and Spanish Steps but not before a drink.
Never alone!The Tiber
On finding a table we got talking to a couple from Essex who were taking time out with a break. Whilst I’m rabbiting to the good burghers of Rayleigh I was being drawn. I was handed a caricature out of the blue by someone who just happened to fancy doing a sketch! Funnily enough I was not impressed by the likeness but Paul and Neil laughed heartily at the uncanny resemblance.
Bastard…
The Trevi Fountain is a wonderful monument built in the 18th Century at the behest of a Pope. Famously you should throw a coin over your shoulder into the fountain, no doubt for luck. Given the crowds who prevented close access to the water you’d more than likely make someone lose an eye if you did this. The total number of coins thrown total over €1 million every year and go to charity. The sceptic in me wonders if it’s a ‘one for you and one for me’ arrangement with the collectors. Fighting our way past the fountain we found the Spanish Steps.
Trevi FountainThis gives you an idea of how busy all of the tourist attractions were in Rome
After reflecting on our future mountaineering when we returned to the apartment we spurned the opportunity to ascend the 135 steps to the church at the top. Despite the name arising from the Spanish embassy at the bottom of the steps the money and design were French and it was completed in the 18th Century.
Spanish Steps6.7 miles during the day
Our last supper was at another of John’s picks at Trattoria Palese. With a pullover on you could happily dine outside and we did and exchanged bants with a cheeky Macedonian waiter. Close to our apartment was an Irish pub. I couldn’t resist a Guinness as our final drink. The next day we all had different flight times and I was the first off. All three of us suffered delays with Paul not departing until the evening. So that was a wrap for 2024. Who knows where the nomads might reconvene next?
For what is a fine album I must declare a disappointment. I’d long harboured the romantic notion that the band’s moniker came from the rifle of the same name. I’d envisaged an album sleeve like The Eagles’ Desperado classic with hirsute outlaws (creating havoc before presumably galloping into the sunset.) Hey-ho, it turns out to be Isaac Gibson’s early home address in Castlewood, Virginia. However, that’s the end of the disappointment as this is an important listen with Gibson’s voice and tunes being the draw.
The sound is the rockier end of country. However, it’s an organic sound with arrangements that include pedal steel and fiddle often with an acoustic foundation. There are no session musicians watching the clock here. The band are still young and originate from around Castlewood where Gibson started his musical career in school. The title track is about a break up and leaving the ‘Holler’. They’re the valleys of the Appalachians. Gibson unleashes his winsome and yearning baritone to tell us of his heartbreak and his need to flee. Maggie Antone duets and adds pleasing harmonies. Fast Asleep intriguingly employs the Czech National Symphony Orchestra, as you do! Someone knew a contact and they stepped up and contribute considerable beauty to what is actually a sad song about fractures in a relationship. Bus Shelton’s tasteful electric guitar solo is sublime.
Much to my pleasure some tinctures of Southern Rock creep in on the love song Rest of My Days where some brass also gets in on the act. Traveling Band, about the grind of following the white lines of the Interstate has the same feel, whereas Yearnin’ For You must be a future crowd pleaser as a delightful melody sits on top of a galloping two step rhythm. Anchor signs off the album. The orchestra returns as this slow burning track builds into something of a power ballad with Gibson seemingly being put through the wringer as he wrestles with internal strife. Truly epic.
It’s a very tight, together sound with quality arrangements from Stewart Myers. This is his second outing with the band and follows 2022’s Fortune Favors The Bold. The band have enjoyed a growing profile and fanbase with international touring. With Gibson’s song writing, his voice and this excellent band it seems that this release will only accelerate their fortunes. A 2024 highlight for me.
Tony Ives’ Blog 