Driving Away From Home

Another mixtape I recently re-discovered from the late 1980s was “Driving Away From Home”, compiled for my father who at the time was making a lot of road trips for work. The tape was named after the one-hit wonder by It’s Immaterial. In this case, I chose the demo version, rather than the commercial hit, as I felt it evokes more pathos. There’s also an in-joke as the lyrics mention the M62 motorway, which was a frequent route my father would have driven.

I have no idea whether he ever played it in the car – certainly, it wouldn’t have been his normal choice of listening! But I know he liked instrumental pop music, based on some of the old 45’s in his record collection. (Many of those 7″ singles came from his time doing National Service in Germany in the late 1950s.) And in the late 1960s, his work used to take him to an E.M.I. factory, so on some Friday evenings he would come home with the latest single by The Beatles.

I also recall that as a child, we had a copy of “Telstar” by The Tornados in the house, which got played frequently. Hence Side A predominantly features instrumental tracks, including lots of twangy guitar, with road and travel related songs on Side B.

Like last week’s featured mixtape, there is an overall sense of melancholy. Another connection comes in the form of cover versions of two of the previous songs: “By The Time I Get To Phoenix” (from early in Nick Cave’s cross-over period from outsider to mainstream artist), and “Song To The Siren” (attributed to This Mortal Coil, but to all intents and purposes a Cocteau Twins track).

I’ve also had the privilege of seeing most of these bands and artists in concert – unlike last week’s tape, where Nico was the only one. That isn’t too surprising, given the time difference between the song selections, and the proliferation of dead musicians. But it also reminds me that the 1980s wasn’t all synth pop, New Romantics, grunge and stadium rock.

Some of this music has never made it to the digital age, so Shazam wasn’t always very helpful in identifying the obscurer tracks which I no longer have on vinyl. But why not take this playlist with you on your next road trip!:

Side A:

  1. The Durutti Column – Sketch For Summer
  2. Felt – Candles In A Church
  3. Felt – Ferdinand Magellan
  4. The Smiths – Oscillate Wildly
  5. The Smiths – The Draize Train
  6. Lloyd Cole & The Commotions – Perfect Blue (Instrumental)
  7. The Monochrome Set – Andiamo
  8. Yeah Yeah Noh – Penetration
  9. Biff Bang Pow! – The Whole World Is Turning Brouchard
  10. Virginia Astley – Bell Of New York (from Melt The Snow 12″)
  11. Brian Eno – Sparrowfall (1)-(3)
  12. The Durutti Column – Prayer
  13. Laraaji – Meditation #2 (edited version from “Angels In The Architecture”)

Side B:

  1. Echo & The Bunnymen – Bring On The Dancing Horses (12″ version)
  2. Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds – By The Time I Get To Phoenix
  3. The Woodentops – Plenty
  4. The Mighty Lemon Drops – Splash #1 (Now I’m Home)
  5. The Shop Assistants – Somewhere In China
  6. The Go-Betweens – Cattle & Cane
  7. It’s Immaterial – Driving Away From Home (4-track demo version)
  8. Microdisney – Loftholdingswood
  9. This Mortal Coil – Song To The Siren
  10. The The – Uncertain Smile
  11. Yello – Lost Again

Next week: More unearthed mixtapes

 

No More Songs

Rummaging through a box of cassettes last week, I came across a mixtape I compiled in the late 1980s or early 1990s. It’s called “No More Songs”, after the Phil Ochs song.

Listening to the tape again after many years, I was reminded of the people, places and events associated with first hearing these songs – working at a second record shop in London where some of these songs were on regular rotation; watching Dustin Hoffman in “The Graduate”; seeing a clip of Tim Buckley on “The Monkees” TV show; watching Dustin Hoffman (again) in “Midnight Cowboy”; recommendations from knowledgable friends (notably Big Star, Phil Ochs and Nick Drake).

I can hear some common themes across these tracks. Certainly, there is a river of melancholy running through this music, which may have resonated with my mood at that time. The fact that several of these artists had died at a relatively young age (and of course, several more have passed away since) may contribute to that sense of sad reflection. While many of the songs might be deemed folk music, they aren’t the typical “troubadour with acoustic guitar” that inundates the genre – and they certainly aren’t typical blues-based rock either. If anything, the music is more baroque or chamber pop. There’s an absence of guitar solos, and not many drums either. Even though these singers may not be technically perfect (and they don’t indulge in the vocal gymnastics made popular by TV talent shows), they know how to use their voices, which actually makes them sound more authentic and more moving as a result. The power and beauty in these performances comes from artists who know their vocal limitations, and from the resulting display of fragility.

There’s probably a negative reaction to grunge rock reflected in this choice of songs. Not all grunge was bad, but like punk before it, there were so many pale imitators and wannabes that it made sense to seek refuge and relief from the noise and attrition of grunge. (A similar reaction happened after punk, when artists like The Durutti Column, Prefab Sprout, Microdisney, Young Marble Giants and Everything But The Girl heralded a welcome respite from punk, adopting “quiet is the new loud” as a kind of informal manifesto.)

Some of these songs are mainstream, and appeared in the charts at the time of their release in the 1960s and 1970s – otherwise they are lesser-known but enduring classics. A couple were popularised through cover versions, and many of these artists benefitted from critical re-appraisals and renewed audience engagement via retrospectives, reissues and archive releases. In particular, the influential compendium “It’ll End In Tears” (and subsequent volumes) helped to raise awareness around much of this music.

They all still sound wonderful to me. Here is the track list in full – enjoy!:

Side A:

  1. Buffalo Springfield: Expecting To Fly
  2. The Byrds: Everybody’s Been Burned
  3. Glen Campbell: By The Time I Get To Phoenix
  4. Nico: Eulogy To Lenny Bruce
  5. Tim Buckley: Song To The Siren
  6. Simon & Garfunkel: Sounds Of Silence
  7. Fred Neil: The Dolphins
  8. Nick Drake: Northern Sky
  9. Tim Hardin: Lady Came From Baltimore
  10. Big Star: Blue Moon

Side B:

  1. Big Star: Take Care
  2. Glen Campbell: Wichita Lineman
  3. Nancy Sinatra & Lee Hazlewood: Some Velvet Morning
  4. Tim Buckley: Morning Glory
  5. Fred Neil: Everybody’s Talking
  6. Nick Drake: Pink Moon
  7. Nico: These Days
  8. Tim Hardin: Reason To Believe
  9. Big Star: Holocaust
  10. Phil Ochs: No More Songs

Next week: More unearthed mixtapes

 

End of the road for Lime?

Earlier this month, Yarra City Council announced it was ending a 6-year trial programme for ride share e-bikes, after the incumbent commercial operator, Lime failed to meet the Council’s procurement requirements.

Despite this, Lime continues to operate elsewhere in the State of Victoria (City of Melbourne and the City of Port Phillip), and in other local government areas in Australia (Sydney, Brisbane, Canberra).

Some of the reasoning behind Yarra Council’s decision appears to echo safety concerns and public complaints regarding Lime in other cities around the world, such as London.

These issues include:

  • Riding on footpaths and in pedestrian-only zones
  • Inappropriate “parking” of ride-share vehicles
  • Joy-riding
  • Speeding
  • Tandem riding
  • Riding without helmets (a requirement in Australia)

In the case of Yarra Council, the original 1-year pilot programme had been extended or renewed unchanged since 2020. According to the Council’s website announcement and FAQs, Yarra did not receive any operating fees, and did not have the certainty and enforceability a commercial contract would have provided.

The biggest obstacle in Yarra appears to be Lime’s refusal or inability to take more responsibility for tracking and retrieving abandoned and illegally parked vehicles – which meant the Council has been picking up the cost.

If this is true, then it appears to be incredibly short-sighted behaviour on the part of Lime – and perhaps reveals a degree of obstinacy bordering on arrogance that comes with incumbency (and a degree of ubiquity).

I can’t believe that Lime cannot do a better job of tracking and retrieving its assets – if I was a shareholder, I would be concerned about this lack of financial management and poor corporate governance. If we can track our suitcases around the world with a simple e-tag, surely Lime knows where all its bikes are located at any given time, and identify which vehicles are illegally parked?

Likewise, Lime should be able to do a better job of immobilising vehicles so they cannot be used for joy-riding, or by under-age riders?

I’m sure we have all seen the social media posts of Lime bikes strewn across footpaths, dumped in waterways, or “parked” on bus shelters. Anecdotally, I’ve also seen ride share vehicles lined up outside my local pub – I get that we don’t want people to drink and drive, but should operators be implicitly encouraging intoxicated pub patrons to use their e-bikes and e-scooters instead?

I have also seen branded ride share helmets littered all over the place – I’ve even had them chucked in my garden. Most of these discarded helmets end up in landfill (as confirmed by one council street cleaner I spoke to in Melbourne’s CBD) because once they are damaged, they can’t be used again. (This also points to a lack of asset management and poor financial governance by the operators.)

There have also been increased incidents of accidents and serious injuries involving e-bikes and e-scooters. I’m not suggesting these are only caused by ride share vehicles, but there is no doubt an element of “don’t own, don’t care” when people use these short-term rental bikes. It would be illuminating to measure the percentage of accidents involving ride share vehicles (and food delivery drivers), as compared to privately-owned e-bikes and e-scooters.

I’d be interested to see more data on programme objectives, and whether or not those goals are being met. For example, a common argument in favour of the local ride share schemes is they help to reduce the number of cars on our roads – but again, anecdotally, where I live in the City of Yarra, I’ve not seen any reduction in car traffic in recent years. Other stated benefits are increased local mobility (easier to take short trips from A to B) – but Yarra is well-served by public transport (trains, trams and buses), and no-one is that far from a tram stop or train station. Another aim might be improved public health (less people using their cars) – but if these schemes result in more trips to A&E (and worse), surely that outweighs any perceived benefit?

Going forward, maybe we will see more local authorities take a similar stance to Yarra Council, or at least tighten up the operating licenses granted to ride share providers, and do more to weigh up the pros and cons of such schemes.

Next week: No More Songs

 

Reverb-erations

“This is a journey into sound” reads the sub-title of ACMI’s Melbourne edition of “Reverb”, the London exhibition organised by Vinyl Factory and hosted by 180 Studios in 2024-25.

Spoiler alert: the ACMI show is a heavily edited/remixed/redacted version of the original, and because it was grafted on to the concurrent Rising festival, it feels like the original’s agenda has been co-opted due to curatorial choices.

Overall, I found ACMI’s Reverb a quite underwhelming experience – with the disappointment being compounded by high expectations. For a start, Vinyl Factory described their show as a celebration of “art and sound with [an] immersive exhibition”. 180 Studios called it an exploration of “the lasting impact and influence of electronic music on contemporary art and culture”. Both of which are big calls, and quite different in terms of scope and intent, despite describing the same exhibition.

ACMI’s re-adapted synopsis boasts that the exhibition “explores music’s influence on art, film and social movements, traversing hip hop and rap, house, techno, dancehall and Jamaican sound system culture”. Quite a different purpose to the original event.

For logistical reasons, I understand that ACMI could not simply replicate the London show, and many items were omitted. But given ACMI’s success in bringing “David Bowie is” to Melbourne, their world premiere of Julian Rosefeldt’s “Manifesto”, and the “Light” show comprising works from the UK’s Tate Gallery, it’s a shame that “Reverb” didn’t deliver to the same level.

First, there was only one interactive work, by Carsten Nicolai (aka Alva Noto) – so hardly an “immersive” experience, unless you include the ACMI Listening Room, which served more as a passive audio space and vinyl lounge (albeit a very nice one!).

Second, the only two works that really engaged with and explored the interaction between electronic music and popular culture were: a semi-educational documentary by Jeremy Deller on the second summer of love and the UK rave culture; and an informative and creative account of the Detroit techno scene by Jenn Nkiru.

Third, as much as I enjoy the work of William Kentridge, his video installation of animated drawings seemed out of place and out of context – although it appears this same work was included in the original London show.

Not having had the opportunity to see the original version, direct comparisons are difficult. But it felt like there were huge gaps. For example, nothing about the role of music videos on MTV (much of it electronic music) in shaping the visual packaging of pop artists and how these videos themselves brought a cross-fertilisation of different sub-cultures, fashion styles and musical genres into mainstream publishing, advertising and the broader entertainment industry. Nothing about the technology that helped electronic music to propagate and which led to scratching, remixing and sampling, and also shaped how, where and when we listen to music. I could go on but hopefully the point is made.

Maybe the point is that the original exhibition was simply the source material for galleries and museums to each put their own spin on the impact of music on art and culture, like a series of reverberating events around the world.

But at the very least, surely there should have been a video of Coldcut’s classic remix of “Paid In Full” by Eric B and Rakim? Now that’s what I call a “journey into sound!”

Next week: End of the road for Lime?