catherine wheel

#1023: “Just the pieces of the man I used to be”

RECORD STORE TALES #1023: “Just the pieces of the man I used to be”

You never know how it’s gonna go.

You roll out of bed feeling like a winner, and then suddenly for absolutely no reason, that completely changes and you’re struggling to break even.

Maybe it’s the pressures of modern life.  The hustle and the bustle.  The need to get things done, even though you’re behind and energy is in short supply.

The feeling of loneliness even though you are not alone.  There’s a dark place in your heart, only inhabited by you, that no one can break into.  It’s not that you can’t let them in.  It’s that you don’t even know how to open that door.  Of if you actually want to.  If you’d prefer to be alone.

The daily monotony, the commute, the cold, the damp.

The fact that all the hours of daylight happen when you’re in an office doing your daily grind.

The pressure and drive to do something important, to be someone who matters.  To make a difference.  To be somebody…anybody…but who you are.

Somehow, a sad song helps.  There’s something about a sad song that can pry its way into your soul.  Provide sympathy.  Warmth.  Help you dry the tears.  That tells you someone out there is feeling the exact same way you do.  It’s as if someone in the world knows you, just as well as you know yourself.

You could be in a room full of happy celebrations, and feel so alone, so completely down, yet have to fake it to make it.

One of the worst winters of my younger life was the winter of ’95-96.  I had just been dumped by my first real serious girlfriend.  I put on a brave face and for a few days, I thought I had weathered the storm.  I listened to “classic British hard blues” that week and felt super strong.  The crash came later.  One of the albums that helped me through that winter was Queen’s Made In Heaven.  The final album with Freddie.  Though there is some undeniable dark material on the album, such as “Mother Love”, and “Too Much Love Will Kill You”, I was amazed at how positive some of the other songs such as “Heaven For Everyone” were.  The album was like a journey through my own convoluted feelings.

“I’m just the pieces of the man I used to be,
Too many bitter tears are raining down on me.”

Yet on the same album:

“In these days of cold affections,
You sit by me and everything’s fine.”

What will the album for the winter of 2022 be?  For the last several years, I’ve been digging deep down into the albums that made me happy as a youth.

“Listen! They said I didn’t stand a chance,
I wouldn’t win no way,
But I’ve got news for you,
There’s nothing I can’t do!”

It was a different time.  There was misery, but nothing can duplicate that feeling of hearing a song for the first time.  A song that you know means something to you.  That is destined to stick with you for your whole life.  And when you put those records on again, a million things start happening in your head.  You can be 12 or 13 again.  A time when the real problems of life were completely unknown to you and the biggest issue you had was figuring out how to talk to the girl you liked.

Like a phantom of a dream, old songs make the memories real again.  As you wipe a tear from your eye, you remember.  It can help sooth the sadness.

Sometimes you just have to cry it out, whatever it is.  Hell, I don’t know what it is exactly.  I just know it sucks.

They say that life never hands you anything you can’t handle.  I don’t know about that.  History is rife with people who could not handle what life has given them.  I think I can – but it’s never simple, straightforward, or obvious how to do it.

So I write.

It’s the only thing I’m really good at.  The only thing people really notice about me.

I write in the hopes that someone will understand.

That someone will relate.

That someone can take what I have experienced and draw something good from it.

And that maybe I’ll get some of that goodness back.

This winter has been pretty good.  My strategies are working.  My support personnel are solid.  But there will always be days where I can’t help it.  Can’t help FEELING IT.  The old familiar sting of that cold, unrelenting loneliness.  The kind of loneliness that can strike even when you are in a room full of loved ones.

One of the best albums for this time of year is Catherine Wheel’s Adam & Eve record.  It captures it all.

“Start the day, in a cold December way, feel what’s new, it’s December through and through.”

And on the same record:

“And we crown ourselves again,
There’s been no change since you and I were young,
When we burned ourselves again,
The spaceship days when you and I were young.”

I crave those spaceship days so hard sometimes.  But you can never really go back.

Except with a song.

Come back with me.  Join me in my memories, on this sad, cold winter day.

REVIEW: Catherine Wheel – Adam and Eve (1997)

CATHERINE WHEEL – Adam and Eve (1997 Mercury)

The 1990s presented a slew of new bands that, while not hard rock, did rock.  Some of them had connections to heavy metal.  Catherine Wheel had more than a few.  For example, Iron Maiden.  Managers Rod Smallwood, Andy Taylor, and Merck Mercuriadis (listed as a member of the band on this album) also handled Iron Maiden.  Singer Rob Dickinson has a cousin in that band.  For even more rock royalty, Bob Ezrin has a production credit as does Gggarth Richardson.  (With credits like those, you won’t be surprised that the album was partially recorded in Canada.)

For my money, I think Adam and Eve is Catherine Wheel’s best album.  It’s an argument that can be made, for it is a big dense emotional listening experience that plays out like a concept album.  The acoustic intro certainly lends the feel of a complete, framed work.  “Let’s get started…let’s get started…”

Blowing in like a cold wind, “Future Boy” quietly continues.  Droning guitars blend in as the song builds, and breaks into a beautiful acoustic verse.  Sonically layered, droney and feedbacky music, hits you wave after wave.  Rob Dickinson’s emphatic vocal melody is the initial hook, but there is so much more going on with “Future Boy”.  An utter masterpiece.

Then we suddenly careen into a poppy blast of fun called “Delicious”.  Simple in structure, but with hidden hooks in the mix.  A guitar blast, a brilliant chorus, and plenty of shimmer.  An easy single.  A piano interlude (further adding to the conceptual feel of the album) breaks into another single “Broken Nose”.  This one slams a little harder.  A stream of building music.  There’s a quiet break and then it’s back to hammering guitar.  There’s also depth — bells, organ, subtle guitar melodies.  Another real masterpiece.

Into epic territory.  “Phantom of the American Mother” bleeds acoustics, electrics, organs, percussion, and plaintive vocals.  “How you gonna feel if Superman and Sonic Youth are fairy tales?”  It’s a trip in and of itself, full of deep emotions and musical genius.

On a personal level, “Ma Solituda” is and probably always will be my favourite.  There’s a delicate sadness, but with a hopeful shine…and cello.  A gentle acoustic strum is paired with a defiantly powerful chorus.  It’s a vocal tour-de-force for Rob Dickinson.

“Satellite” has a pop feel, with an upbeat guitar hook.  Crashing cymbals, an unbelievable chorus, and loud guitars.  “Satellite” was not a single but should have been.  The refrain of “When you and I were young,” will ring in your brain for hours afterwards.  A slew of guitar solo noise is like frosting on top of a very loud and sweet dessert.  The mood turns on “Thunderbird”, a long but undefeated number with its own peaks and valleys of emotion.

Between “Thunderbird” and the next track, “Here Comes the Fat Controller”, the album becomes more of a slow burner.  The previous poppy firecrackers gave temporarily given way to some tracks that are more…mountainous.  They take time to climb.  “Here Comes the Fat Controller” is one such song, but a rewarded exercise.  Listen for tinkling piano in the back, adding even more colours to the palette.  “Sing, sing,” and enjoy.  “How do you feel?”

You can really hear Bob Ezrin’s influence at this part of the album.  The music gets muffled as someone gets in a car and closes the door, shades of “Detroit Rock City”.  The mood changes again on “Goodbye”, like a lullaby for a hangover.  It also feels like that a song that belongs near the conclusion of an album like this one, with its cinematic nature.  There’s still “For Dreaming”, the longest song and the climax to a pretty intense album.  That still leaves the denoument, which is the soft untitled outro.  With minimal accompaniment, Rob Dickinson ends the disc.

I’m gonna phone,
Everyone that I’ve known,
Through the downs and the ups,
And who I suspect have written me off…
As an insensitive fuck…
And say good luck, and goodbye.

Like a favourite movie, Adam and Eve feels like a story with a beginning, middle and end.  With conflict and resolution.  With character growth, and avoidance of cliches.  With light and shade, nuance and allusion.  Roll all that into a rock album and you have a hell of a way to spend an hour.

5/5 stars

 

 

Sunday Screening: Catherine Wheel – “Ma Solituda”

“Start the day in a cold December way.”

It’s almost December so let’s have a listen to my favourite December song!  Though you might not be able to tell from just the music video, that’s Bruce Dickinson’s cousin Rob Dickinson singing in Catherine Wheel.

From their excellent 1997 album Adam and Eve, enjoy this melancholy masterpiece. I don’t know about you, but that’s not what Canadian Decembers look like….

Look for a full album review soon.

REVIEW: Iron Maiden – A Real Dead One (1993, plus single)

Part 17 of my series of Iron Maiden reviews!  NOTE:  This album was later reissued as part of A Real Live Dead One.

IRON MAIDEN – A Real Dead One (1993)

When Maiden hit the road for what was to be Bruce’s farewell tour, it did not go as the band intended.  There were some positives:   Because this was Bruce’s farewell, the band decided to pull certain older tracks out of the box, and record them for the next live album, A Real Dead One.  But three of the four other Iron Maiden members (Janick Gers being the sole holdout) have accused Bruce of sabotaging that last tour.  I’m sure this is all water under the bridge now, but Maiden were furious that Bruce seemingly stopped trying, barely sang, and underperformed on certain stops on the tour.  Only the big gigs, with the cameras and the press, did Bruce put any effort into singing, claimed the band.

Whatever the case may be, Bruce did turn up for the tracks on A Real Dead One.  And Maiden stacked the deck with great tracks, stretching from the first album to Powerslave.  And those older seldom heard tracks that Maiden pulled out of the box?  Yeah!  You get classics like “Remember Tomorrow”, “Where Eagles Dare”, and “Prowler”.  None of those songs were on the immortal Live After Death (neither was “Transylvania” or “Sanctuary”!) so that brings added value to this album, as a companion piece of sorts.

But it could never live up to the legacy set by Live After Death, and although it’s certainly better than A Real Live One, I can’t say I play this too frequently.   The band are on fire and playing as furiously as ever.  The solos are nothing if not sublime.  Steve and Nicko gallop forward driving the whole thing.  That’s all well and good.  The vocals don’t seem mixed high enough to me.  Bruce’s voice is also obviously wearing with age.  It happens.  I think the album has a better overall sound than A Real Live One however.

I don’t think “Remember Tomorrow” needed backing keyboards, although Dave and Janick’s guitar work is beautiful.  I love Janick’s noisy chaotic solo that still somehow fits the song.  I also love Nicko’s drum work and fills.

“Hallowed By Thy Name” appropriately closes the album, and was also the album’s single.  The fantastic cover art shows Bruce being killed by Eddie, a trick they would try live for their final gig (and more on that when I get to it).  “Hallowed” had two unique live B-sides:  “Wasted Years” and “Wrathchild”!  Both are worth having.  “Wrathchild” probably could have been on this album, and “Wasted Years” definitely should have been on A Real Live One.

Derek Riggs came back for the cover art.  DJ Eddie seems to be spinning discs in hell, at 666 FM!

Even though this was Maiden’s second live album of 1993, it was not their last!  Stay tuned…

3.5/5 stars

Below:  Note Bruce promoting his cousin Rob Dickinson’s new band, Catherine Wheel!  Also seen, the CD for the combined A Real Live Dead One release.