You might never have heard of them, but the New Rhythm and Blues Quartet have been rocking for over 30 years - a seriously talented bunch of players, they seem to mix blues, rockabilly, country, bebop, the Beatles, the Lovin' Spoonful and Louis Prima into every song. Elvis Costello has described them as 'the best band in America'. Wonderful harmonies, bizarre little instrumentals and wild solos abound on every disc. There are half a dozen album gems in their back catalogue. This was my first introduction to the band - a blistering live set that captures everything great about the band. My tip - try to stick with the long mid-career NRBQ material that features guitarist Big Al Anderson. He's a one-man riot on a Telecaster with a foghorn voice. Albums to catch - At Yankee Stadium, Grooves in Orbit, Tiddlywinks and Ridin' In My Car.
30 days, 30 albums... Ron Sexsmith - Ron Sexsmith
Ron Sexsmith is one of the most consistent songwriters of his generation - ten or eleven albums in, he's still wonderful. I choose this one because it was the first exposure to his trademarks - the slightly wobbly pitching, the left-of-centre songwriting vewpoints and the wonderful arrangements and subject material. It also contains some of his finest work, including (I think) his finest song, Speaking with the Angel. Delicious.
30 days, 30 albums... Bill Withers - Live at Carnegie Hall
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – Bill Withers if the Morgan Freeman of soul. He has such enormous integrity and has soul right to his bones. I think this is his finest hour – a dazzling concert in which he starts with a little uncertainty and ends up with the audience singing and clapping along with his every line, raising the rafters. The playing is wonderful too – funky and restrained, with a few tasteful string and horn overdubs. And there is some fantastic between-song patter, too, including a wonderful introduction to Grandma’s Hands. Unmissable. Every home should have one.
30 days, 30 albums... Randy Newman - Land of Dreams
Randy Newman fans will always single out the classic mid-period albums like Good Old Boys, Little Criminals and Sail Away. But to me, Land of Dreams is a lot more fun. You have the utterly brilliant autobiographical opening trilogy, ‘Dixie Flyer’, ‘New Orleans Wins the War’ and ‘Four Eyes’, and you have the spellbinding ‘I Just Want You to Hurt Like I Do’, and in between it sounds like he’s having loads of fun, with songs produced by Jeff Lynne, among others. ‘Falling in Love’ is delicious pop, and ‘Something Special’ is a gorgeous arrangement. Still sharp, still cynical and very funny – but this is a polished gem that remains one of the most entertaining moments in a glorious career.
30 days, 30 albums... Joni Mitchell - Hejira
One of the most sparse, restless and beautiful albums of the 70s, and possibly a career high for Ms Mitchell. I love Blue and I adore Court and Spark, but this album and The Hissing of Summer Lawns seem to mark the arrival of a mature artist with something serious to say beyond love and the storms of the heart. Based around the theme of travelling and rootlessness, this also has some amazing musical performances from Larry Carlton and most notably bass genius Jaco Pastorius. Lyrically, it’s as sharp as she’s ever been, particularly on 'Song for Sharon' and the beautiful 'Amelia'. It’s simply stunning – and features a beautiful portrait double exposure on the cover.
30 days, 30 albums... Neil Young - Comes a Time
I figure there’s no way to single out a Neil Young album – there are so many different styles from all of the many different lives that he has led, where do you start? And there are so many that I either haven’t listened to in years or haven’t heard yet. So this is a personal choice – I know it’s a lightweight compared to some of his major works, but it was the first NY album that I bought. I remember saving my pocket money and buying it from Dempsey’s Record Shop on the Promenade in Portstewart. And when I listen to opening chords of ‘Going Back’, I’m still transported back to that dreamy adolescent summer: ‘I feel like going back, back where there’s nowhere to stay…’. It just sounded wonderful to me then – all those lush acoustic guitars and that unmistakeable, unforgettable voice. But for the Neil Young purists, I also love Rust Never Sleeps, Freedom, Tonight’s the Night and of course, After the Gold Rush.
30 days, 30 albums... Wilco - Being There
I remember buying this purely on the strengths of the reviews without ever having heard a track – and it turned out to be as good as everyone said. Many of the songs on this double album feel unfinished, and yet it’s glorious from start to finish, laced with melancholy and charm. The playing is gorgeous, and the sound seemed to define what ‘Americana’ meant for a long time – the sound of yearning steel guitars, heartbroken pianos and weary, sad vocals, the whole thing recorded in brown and dusty rooms on old instruments.
30 days, 30 albums... Paul Simon - There Goes Rhymin' Simon
Paul Simon was the first songwriter I ever heard who made me want to be a songwriter. I just loved what he did with lyrics and chords to express feeling and opinion, and I’m still an enormous fan. Of all the wonderful albums he has recorded, to me this one seems to marry his intellect with music in an irresistible way. There’s some wonderful playing, with much of the album recorded down in Muscle Shoals Alabama and featuring some of the grooviest, most wonderful players of the time. And it’s got some of the best songs he ever wrote on it: ‘Take Me To The Mardi Gras’, ‘Kodachrome’, ‘Loves Me Like a Rock’, ‘Something So Right’ and the masterpiece ‘American Tune’, all of it loaded with warmth, soul and intellect.
30 days, 30 albums... The Hold Steady - Boys and Girls in America
Think AC/DC with Douglas Coupland writing the lyrics. A perfect distillation of angsty teen to twenties American culture, it’s sharp and loaded with killer choruses. Big guitars, big themes, namechecks for Kerouac and John Berryman, it’s kind of nerdy but very cool. Also highly recommended – Stay Positive, the album the band were promoting when they visited the Odyssey in Belfast last year to support Counting Crows. The opening set by The Hold Steady (songs about hoodrats getting arrested and self-harming cheerleaders getting nailed against dumpsters behind bars) was an experience that left the Diet Coke-slurping Crows fans slightly befuddled.
A letter from Paris
Paris is always a delicious assault on the senses – it comes in through the eyes, the mouth, the nose, the ears in a swoon of language, scents, music and light like no other city. And the result – if you’re in receiving mode – is one of intoxication.
On the first evening’s ride into the city on the Metro, I stood shoulder to shoulder with stylish homeward-bound commuters, wilting in the underground heat. As they came and went at the various stops, I picked up wafts of sweat and stale perfume after a long day’s work. The next morning, I walked past a bakery and caught the scent of fresh bread and coffee as sunshine bounced off the windscreens of the passing cars.
Our morning view for a few daysWe spent three days in the city, strolling through the 14th arrondisement and sleeping on a futon in the book-lined third floor apartment of our dear friend Stephanie Schwerter. We woke up with creaking joints in the morning and opened her shutters - looking straight up the tall canyon of the street to see a narrow corridor of spring sky.
The 14th is very pleasant and very Parisian – old six-storey apartment buildings with little balconies and shuttered windows, behind which lie high ceilings, ancient plumbing, tiny elevators and spiral staircases. Outside, lots of neighbours on bicycles and scrawny, elegant old ladies walking their dogs. On the street corners of the Rue Raymond Losserand, lots of boulangeries, restaurants and cafes.
All hail the delicious Boursault...Unforgettable are the fresh baguette and the slather of Boursault cheese with fresh apples and strong coffee. It puts the usual morning muesli & banana combo slightly to shame, but then that’s what a holiday is all about.
Andrea & Stephanie...Andrea and I had barely seen each other in the three weeks preceding – each of us seemed to be getting up early or coming back late, distracted by guests and workshops and schedules. So we decided to be really relaxed and leave the tourist traps behind. In fairness, we did visit the Tuileries and Les Jardins du Palais Royal, but most of the time, we walked out for a croissant and a coffee and just window-shopped or sat on a bench in the sunshine.
Our highlights: Dinner in Vins des Pyrenees, a fantastic little restaurant in le Marais, just two doors up from where Jim Morrison died.
* 
The Cimetiere du Montparnasse, where Samuel Beckett is buried – as well as de Maupassant, Susan Sontag, Jean Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir and many others. Fantastic tombs with ornate doors and elaborate gravestones, traversed by wide, leafy avenues.
* Sitting in another little bistro near Stephanie’s apartment, L’Auriel, watching the buses go by with their greenish interior light as old gents walked their little dogs and night fell over the rooftops.
* The winding medieval streets of the Marais, with vintage scooters and stylish, narrow young Parisians in well-cut clothes.
* 
On the stroll in the MaraisCoffee and macaroons in an expensive little café in the gardens of the Palais Royal – and the young guy at the next table who had a very happy golden retriever that he referred to as ‘Ernest’.
* A visit to the studio of Eugene Delacroix, which proved to be slightly disappointing – his most famous picture, ‘Liberty Leading the People’, is not here, and the work on display didn’t set us on fire. There’s a delicious little courtyard garden at the rear of his house, though, where the sunshine comes down through the trees and makes you feel kind of blessed.
* 
St. Germain-des-Pres – the shadowy interior lit by shafts of sunlight through the stained glass windows, dappling the tiles. We lit a candle to St. Antoine and offered up a prayer for good fortune, to whoever might be listening out there…
30 days, 30 albums... The Beatles - Abbey Road
The last album the Fab Four ever recorded, and one suffused with sunshine and big emotions as a result. Relieved to be coming to the end, they reportedly had a really good time, and it shows – the closing medley of She Came In Through the Bathroom Window, through to The End, is my favourite Beatles moment of their whole canon. Bouncy, lyrically sharp and sweet, it sounds even more wonderful in the remastered version. Big hits here, too – Something, Here Comes The Sun, Come Together. And the sublime You Never Give Me Your Money. Mind you, on other days, I reach for A Hard Day’s Night...
30 days, 30 albums... Ry Cooder - Bop Til You Drop
The album all Ry Cooder fans secretly wish he’d go and make all over again – funky, humorous and loaded with soul. It hits all the marks, from the gospel harmonies of ‘I Can’t Win’ to the brittle and comic street drama of ‘Down in Hollywood’. His slide playing throughout the whole thing is luscious and his phrasing is impeccable. I also adore Paradise and Lunch and Chicken Skin Music, but this is the one that turned him into my overnight hero. The slide solo on ‘I Think It’s Going to Work Out Fine’ is worth the admission price alone. Rock’n’roll trivia – the first ever digitally recorded album.
30 days, 30 albums... John Prine - The Missing Years
The late great Phil Sinclair used to play this album all the time in his record shop in Portrush, and it was the first time I’d ever heard John Prine. I had no idea at the time that he had a solid back catalogue studded with amazing songs. This one just leapt out at me, and every now and then I put it on and think of old Phil. There are some masterpieces on here – 'Everybody Wants to Feel Like You', 'You Got Gold' and my favourite, the weird and wonderful 'The Sins of Memphisto'. The Sins of Memphisto was the audio template I had in mind when I went into the studio with 'Sailortown'. It may not be everyone’s favourite John Prine album, but it’s the one I come back to most often. In fact, I’m going to go and put it on right now.
30 days, 30 albums... Neko Case - Fox Confessor Brings the Flood
I have no idea what is going on in this album - all I know is I catch glimpses of her world like looking through gaps in a fance, and I'm fascinated by the world she creates. It's a strange sounding album, soaked in reverb and 50s guitars rumbling and twanging, with a really noir feel to the whole thing - songs that seem to touch on loss and separation and death. Think Patsy Cline meets Nick Cave. Her voice is amazing, and the songs are full of hooks and strange, poetic and dreamlike images: 'the sidewalk skins my knees, there's glass in the thermos and blood on my jeans, nickels and dimes of the Fourth of July, roll off in a crooked line'. The whole thing is also pefectly packaged - the lyrics are not provided. Instead, you get images that look like polaroids of old farm equipment and abandoned warehouses, an explosion in the distance. And strange drawings. And I have no idea what the Fox Confessor is, and why he or she brings the flood. All I know is that this is the album that began my romance with Neko Case, and it will endure.
30 days, 30 albums... John Hiatt - Riding with the King
John Hiatt is one of my favourite songwriters, and he’s renowned for classic albums like Bring the Family, chock-full of well-crafted epics. This one, though, is my favourite – I used to go and see Freddie White sing these songs (Love Like Blood, She Loves the Jerk, etc) and when I found the original album it became one of my turntable favourites for many years. It has a touch of the Elvis Costellos about it – a little spiky and New Wave-y in places thanks to the Nick Lowe production. But the songs are superb, soul-influenced things. It’s hard to lay hands on these days, so my old vinyl copy remains precious to me.
30 days, 30 albums... Little Feat - Waiting for Columbus
Forgive the gap - I was away in Paris for a few days, of which more later. Anyway, back to the business in hand... I couldn’t believe what I was hearing the first time someone played me Little Feat. It was funky, rootsy, sharp, sizzling and very very catchy. Great vocals, great players - hooky songs with a sense of humour. I have all of their stuff on vinyl in a box somewhere – well, all of the stuff that featured the late and very great Lowell George. But this was always my favourite – it seemed to take all of the things about Little Feat that were wonderful, and turn them up to 11. And as if that wasn't enough, it also has the amazing Tower of Power horn section on it, too...
Reunited with old friends at the Montra
It was a super weekend for gigs - on Friday night I was reunited with my old buddy Noel McKeary for a charity show at the Montra Club in Coleraine. The gig was a fundraiser for St Vincent de Paul at St. John's in Killowen, the part of town where my father's family come from.
It was great to see some faces I haven't seen in a while, including some of my cousins and my old Chronicle friend Des Worboys, who took this picture. Most of all, though, it was good to play a few songs with Noel - I joined the country rock band New Moon just before Noel left it, so we played together for almost a year. Along with Adrian and Clive Culbertson, Noel penned some great songs on the band's album Emerald Country Shack.
I played a few of my songs and then Noel came on stage and I accompanied him on some of his songs and then we played a few crowd-pleasers and left the stage to Henry Gaile, as he and Bernie came on and finished the night off with some music for dancing. Thanks to all those who came along and supported the night.
The folowing evening was something completely different - playing the blues with the Ronnie Greer Blues Band down at the Ardhowen Theatre in Enniskillen. The audience were wonderful and I think it's about the best I've ever heard the band - bouncy, polished and slick. Hugely enjoyable. Apart from the long drive back to Belfast. My eyes were definitely at half-mast when I pulled up outside the house and turned off the engine. Off to Paris tonight to be reunited with Andrea and spend a few days chilling out.
30 days, 30 albums... Ella & Louis
Louis often sounded like he was trying to heard to be Mr. Entertainment, and Ella often sounded like she was just… trying too hard. On this collaboration, they’re in mellow and very fine form, with the fabulous Norman Granz making everything sound warm and welcoming, and Oscar Peterson on piano. What could be better? The combination of her grace and his growl sits surprisingly well, and his trumpet playing is restrained and elegant here. This is a Sunday morning favourite at our house, and a must for every collection.
30 days, 30 albums... Tom Waits - Swordfishtrombones
After all the years of singing like a drunk and ravaged Sinatra, Waits delivered this creaking, clanking bag of bones to Warners Brothers and as they sat in the room and listened to it he apparently ‘watched the blood drain from their faces’. Warners refused to put it out and Waits moved the album to Island Records, where he remained for many years. You can see why Warners were taken aback – it’s such a departure from his earlier work, laced with found sounds, clanking and groaning broken instruments and fractured images. It’s heavily influenced by the world of avant garde theatre and Bertolt Brecht in particular. I adore it – it sounds like something grand and stylish caught in the act of falling down the stairs. 'Shore Leave' is particularly atmospheric and there are some gorgeous old-style Tom songs on here, too, like 'Soldier’s Things'. Indispensible.
30 days, 30 albums... The Blue Nile - Hats
I had the joy and privilege of seeing The Blue Nile when they performed at the Ulster Hall on the Peace at Last tour, and they were magnificent. Soaring soulful vocals moving the soul against the backdrop of electronic drums and synthesisers and gentle electric guitar. Hats is the classic Blue Nile moment, though... The lyrics are deeply evocative – ‘In love we’re all the same / We’re walking down an empty street / And will nobody call your name?’ It never ceases to make the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. This is a gorgeous album – it sounds like music to listen to late at night, while walking through a deserted city in winter.