Tír Na HiFi

mcq wrote:Simply put, Silent Corner and In Camera are indispensable and remain cornerstones of the Hammill canon. The Future Now is superb and rather different in its way from the classic Over (released the previous year). It's one of his most adventurous albums (Mediaeval and A Motorbike in Afrika in particular), and really shows how hungry he was to work with synthesisers and drum machines. The Mousetrap is one of his most underrated songs, and one of his best (in my opinion). The stinging vitriol of Energy Vampires is also a standout. And the title track is a wonderfully bracing statement of intent, which receives a fine performance here, but the classic recording is on the live album, The Margin. Ph7 follows on from The Future Now and forms part of a trilogy with A Black Box. It must be said, though, that the live versions I've heard (whether on official releases or bootlegs) surpass the studio versions, but Hammill is in his natural environment in concert, and has given us some genuinely unhinged moments onstage over the years. Nadir's Big Chance is an interesting album. The wonderful elemental fire of the title track, Open Your Eyes and Nobody's Business were a profound influence on John Lydon who, during a 1977 radio interview, expressed his admiratioHn and respect for the man.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZdtFHLT8 ... ure=relmfu
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PdJ1mtXbtls
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vzHCOfsy5o4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKoP19WHcFA

Thanks for the tips. Would you believe I already listened to Motor Bike in Afrika and Nadir's Last Chance last night! You can definitely understand Johnny Lydon's admiration. Still, even now, in these anything goes times (sic), the prospect of sitting down to listen to PH must fill non-believers with dread. There never will be anyone like him, will there? Anyway I'm going back to the lyrics to try and get a better handle on his oeuvre but only on vinyl please :) He deserves that surely?

At least The Mousetrap is easy to understand :) Stunning!

After all is said and done,
Not very much will have been either way:
I'm a chronicler of action,
I'm an actor in the play.
I know the lines I have to speak,
I know that I won't ever quit, corpse, or dry,
But the performance gets so pointless
And the days just drift on by.
Every time that I go to turn the pages of the calendar
In the third act of this twenty-ninth year of the show
I'm aware of the latest leading lady and get mad at her...
It's perfunctory, but why she'll never know.
When I began I had my hopes,
Believed that I could be a leading light of the stage,
But now I've stunned myself to silence,
Exhausted all my inner rage,
Extinguished all my joy and violence,
Trapped all my feelings in a cage.
And every time that I go to turn the pages of the calendar
I can see that I'm not really going anywhere;
All these years I have skirted round experience like a scavenger.
Can I really feel? I wonder if I dare?
At the end of the run, will there be anyone who cares?
And behind the actor's pose, heaven knows
If there's anyone left in there.

and

j tillman (ex fleet foxes)

Almost as good reading the original story by Poe. Wonder why they rerecorded it to bring out another version? Doesn't make sense as this rare original is simply incredible!

You can read why here


Double vinyl with libretto....

cybot wrote:

mcq wrote:Simply put, Silent Corner and In Camera are indispensable and remain cornerstones of the Hammill canon. The Future Now is superb and rather different in its way from the classic Over (released the previous year). It's one of his most adventurous albums (Mediaeval and A Motorbike in Afrika in particular), and really shows how hungry he was to work with synthesisers and drum machines. The Mousetrap is one of his most underrated songs, and one of his best (in my opinion). The stinging vitriol of Energy Vampires is also a standout. And the title track is a wonderfully bracing statement of intent, which receives a fine performance here, but the classic recording is on the live album, The Margin. Ph7 follows on from The Future Now and forms part of a trilogy with A Black Box. It must be said, though, that the live versions I've heard (whether on official releases or bootlegs) surpass the studio versions, but Hammill is in his natural environment in concert, and has given us some genuinely unhinged moments onstage over the years. Nadir's Big Chance is an interesting album. The wonderful elemental fire of the title track, Open Your Eyes and Nobody's Business were a profound influence on John Lydon who, during a 1977 radio interview, expressed his admiratioHn and respect for the man.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZdtFHLT8 ... ure=relmfu
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PdJ1mtXbtls
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vzHCOfsy5o4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKoP19WHcFA

Thanks for the tips. Would you believe I already listened to Motor Bike in Afrika and Nadir's Last Chance last night! You can definitely understand Johnny Lydon's admiration. Still, even now, in these anything goes times (sic), the prospect of sitting down to listen to PH must fill non-believers with dread. There never will be anyone like him, will there? Anyway I'm going back to the lyrics to try and get a better handle on his oeuvre but only on vinyl please :) He deserves that surely?

At least The Mousetrap is easy to understand :) Stunning!

After all is said and done,
Not very much will have been either way:
I'm a chronicler of action,
I'm an actor in the play.
I know the lines I have to speak,
I know that I won't ever quit, corpse, or dry,
But the performance gets so pointless
And the days just drift on by.
Every time that I go to turn the pages of the calendar
In the third act of this twenty-ninth year of the show
I'm aware of the latest leading lady and get mad at her...
It's perfunctory, but why she'll never know.
When I began I had my hopes,
Believed that I could be a leading light of the stage,
But now I've stunned myself to silence,
Exhausted all my inner rage,
Extinguished all my joy and violence,
Trapped all my feelings in a cage.
And every time that I go to turn the pages of the calendar
I can see that I'm not really going anywhere;
All these years I have skirted round experience like a scavenger.
Can I really feel? I wonder if I dare?
At the end of the run, will there be anyone who cares?
And behind the actor's pose, heaven knows
If there's anyone left in there.

My God, Dermot, reading those lyrics for The Mousetrap brings back the memory of hearing the song so vividly. Ostensibly, the song of a man caught in a neverending run of a play, there is so much more to it than that. This is a microcosm of a mind in turmoil. The song reflects the emotional torpor of a mind in flux, lost in a profound sense of ennui with his surroundings, acting out a script of his life that he acutely despises and which he is powerless to alter. The brevity and succinctness of a song like The Lie is remarkable because there is a whole world of faith and doubt expressed in those five minutes, but The Mousetrap is hardly less successful in its treatment of an impotent mind. There are lines in that song that cut so deeply to the emotional quick that they make me inwardly wince when I hear them. "The performance gets so pointless, and the days just drift on by.", "I've stunned myself to silence, exhausted all my inner rage, extinguished all my joy and violence, trapped all my feelings in a cage", and "All these years I have skirted round experience like a scavenger" say so much so succinctly in such a painfully honest way.

The character in this song, an actor, may - once upon a time - been inspired by something or someone to do something "of lasting significance" ("believed that he could be a leading light of the stage"), but mindless, meaningless rounds of "work" have stunned his mind to a kind of impotence. It just so happens that Hammill chooses the acting profession. He could be talking about anybody stuck in a deadend job, the endless and meaningless repetition of which has rendered him emotionally ossified. ("Heaven knows if there's anybody left in there.") It's a frightening song, a concentrated moment of existential angst immortalised in song.

mcq wrote:

cybot wrote:
After all is said and done,
Not very much will have been either way:
I'm a chronicler of action,
I'm an actor in the play.
I know the lines I have to speak,
I know that I won't ever quit, corpse, or dry,
But the performance gets so pointless
And the days just drift on by.
Every time that I go to turn the pages of the calendar
In the third act of this twenty-ninth year of the show
I'm aware of the latest leading lady and get mad at her...
It's perfunctory, but why she'll never know.
When I began I had my hopes,
Believed that I could be a leading light of the stage,
But now I've stunned myself to silence,
Exhausted all my inner rage,
Extinguished all my joy and violence,
Trapped all my feelings in a cage.
And every time that I go to turn the pages of the calendar
I can see that I'm not really going anywhere;
All these years I have skirted round experience like a scavenger.
Can I really feel? I wonder if I dare?
At the end of the run, will there be anyone who cares?
And behind the actor's pose, heaven knows
If there's anyone left in there.

My God, Dermot, reading those lyrics for The Mousetrap brings back the memory of hearing the song so vividly. Ostensibly, the song of a man caught in a neverending run of a play, there is so much more to it than that. This is a microcosm of a mind in turmoil. The song reflects the emotional torpor of a mind in flux, lost in a profound sense of ennui with his surroundings, acting out a script of his life that he acutely despises and which he is powerless to alter. The brevity and succinctness of a song like The Lie is remarkable because there is a whole world of faith and doubt expressed in those five minutes, but The Mousetrap is hardly less successful in its treatment of an impotent mind. There are lines in that song that cut so deeply to the emotional quick that they make me inwardly wince when I hear them. "The performance gets so pointless, and the days just drift on by.", "I've stunned myself to silence, exhausted all my inner rage, extinguished all my joy and violence, trapped all my feelings in a cage", and "All these years I have skirted round experience like a scavenger" say so much so succinctly in such a painfully honest way.

The character in this song, an actor, may - once upon a time - been inspired by something or someone to do something "of lasting significance" ("believed that he could be a leading light of the stage"), but mindless, meaningless rounds of "work" have stunned his mind to a kind of impotence. It just so happens that Hammill chooses the acting profession. He could be talking about anybody stuck in a deadend job, the endless and meaningless repetition of which has rendered him emotionally ossified. ("Heaven knows if there's anybody left in there.") It's a frightening song, a concentrated moment of existential angst immortalised in song.

I get all the above Paul plus one very important factor: acceptance and success on a larger scale....Would you agree?

“When I began I had my hopes,
Believed that I could be a leading light of the stage,
But now I've stunned myself to silence,
Exhausted all my inner rage,
Extinguished all my joy and violence,
Trapped all my feelings in a cage."

Yes, "a leading light of the stage" can mean different things to different people. On one hand, it can mean taking the road less travelled and pursuing a lonely artistic path which may not be commercially pleasing, but will be artistically satisfying. On the other hand, it can mean a craving of recognition from his peers and the public at large by taking "worthy" roles which have been so well trodden by the greats of the stage in the past (a courting of the limelight for its own sake). I believe that the protagonist of the song has taken the latter path and finds himself an emotional shell because, on self-examination, he finds that he is living his life simply to satisfy the whims of other people, and this direction has taken him further away from where he began and, ultimately, himself. What makes lasting art is the ability to make it a personal statement - after absorbing your formative influences, you "make it new" (to recall Ezra Pound's famous dictum) by making it personal.

Here's a great live version of The Mousetrap from New York in 1981:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eogthc1a3co (coupled with a fine version of Sign as well)

on vinyl..

Another one from the vinyl vault!