Bobcast #46 - Bedroom Burlesque (part 1)...

....yes, that's right - *more* free stuff from Bob...

Bob talks candidly about his new album and tries to pass off half a dozen classic Beatles tracks as his own...


L.U.V. on y'all,

Bob

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Bob

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Experiment V...

Well, that's it - end of experiment. Phew, glad/sad *that*'s over....

It's always a bitter sweet thing, the creative impulse - bit like the whole male sex experience really, I suppose. Great in the build up, fan-bloody-tastic most of the way through then "whey-ey-ey-ey-fhnoarrrrrgorfluggin'norathawas-bloody-corkin-smashing-love" at the end and then.....slow, contemplative puff on a post-coital gasper as the vague feelings of inadequacy/nausea begin to make themselves known in the groin/gut/adenoids etc. Yep, that's about the size of the making of Bedroom Burlesque too, you could say. Nice while it lasted love, but - eh, do us a favour darling, don't slam the door on your way out, there's a good lass. Before it's even on the shelves, you're already eyeing up - if not actually groping - the firm but ample posterior of the next one....

But 'Glam' will just have to wait...

So, what of the experiment? Well, I set out to write from the position I felt I was in - namely, an artist trying to sell his wares for the first time; in layman's terms, then, a *prostitute* of some sort. I mean, what else can you call doing what you love doing...for money? Anyway, that's the voice I think I was subconsciously reaching for in all of the songs; that of the slightly shady character who sings 'What I do' - proud and shameful at the same time, bold enough to give you the bold facts of the transaction in a matter-of-fact, pulling on a Gauloise in a shady doorway of the Rue St. Denis kind of way, but deep down, still secretly hoping that the people s/he cares about never find out what exactly it is that s/he actually does. I eventually arrived there in that song, I suppose and - back to the old 'joy detumescing into ennui' mode we talked about earlier - once you arrive, you know it's time to move on...

But then, isn't there some canny quote (I can't put my finger on it right now) that says something along the lines of, well, it's not the destination that matters, it's the journey? If that's so, then I suppose we could call the experiment a qualified success. There were the unfathomable good uns - the ones that just worked, you knew that, but not *why* - for me those would include 'Cathy Moriarty' and 'Tramp Smash', they came unbidden and you just have to hold your nerve, thank your lucky stars and get the bloody things down before you forget them...a bit like the gentle art of seduction itself, I guess, when you put it like that and if I can dare to stretch that old art/whoring metaphor any further than I have already...

Then there are the ones you hope you're right in thinking have some substance to them, once the bubbles have subsided and they get listened to a bit further down the line, when the medals are being handed out - 'Veil & Jimmy Choos', 'Jailbirds', 'Boytron' and - and this is at a real push, you understand - 'The Circus is Leaving Town' would be the ones I'd enter into that little lottery myself. You *hope* they'll leave more than a monosodium glutinate bloatation to the stomach. But as with so many things in life, that's all you can do really, in the end - hope...

Otherwise, it's been a pretty tough one to gestate - I suppose in many ways because of the way I've chosen to go about it. I have an intractable inability to do things in the abstract - method man, me. I have to make my mistakes in actual fact, not in the abstract, learn my lessons by poking a dozy finger into the light socket rather than sating myself on the received wisdom that to do so will actually *hurt*. Unless I feel it, I'm not convinced. So, hence the dressing up and the rather strange response that that's encouraged - I mean, have you never seen an ugly, big-boned man dressing up like a cheap, common tart before? OK, so it's not everybody's cup of Darjeeling, but - heck - I *have* got a stonking pair of legs, haven't I? *Right*! So why hide them under a bushel? Huh??? But then there's the uncounted on sub-narrative for you: the serious artiste who just wants to know what happens when you poke A with B gets mistooken for a weirdo, child molesting 'prevert' [sic] and the words and the tunes get swallowed up by the fellow in the fishnets wearing a bin liner with a raffia work crown of thorns upon his/her head....There's always a cost, isn't there?

And that, I guess, is my theme here - on the album that is, not in this post - value(s). It's there from the first track, I suppose - a shadow of horrible, ill-defined intention, lurking like a grimy tank-topped paedo- in the shadows of the park where the kids should be playing without fear. That's where the songs lose their innocence - when you try to write *about* something, I suppose...But then, how many novelists avoid that reductive, lollipop sucking question - "wassitabart??" It's not about anything, but there are, unavoidably, themes. And the obvious one here is the unregarding harm that money wreaks upon us - and we get younger and younger in its clutches. It's there from note one, bar one, I guess. 'Joining the Cyber Circus' is a child in a bedroom cavorting lasciviously in front of a webcam, his or her little lap dance being instantaneously lapped up globally....poor parents, poor child, poor audience, poor walls. It's maybe a tad bland musically - but doesn't it have to be, in a way? Doesn't the blandness reinforce somehow the pathos of what is an every 'She's Leaving Home' type scenario; I mean, you don't even need to leave home anymore to leave home a long, long way behind you...so it needs to be rendered as being as out of the ordinary as 'Neighbours', doesn't it?

Then there's the calculating boss, greedy fingers abacusing the worth of his secretary/lover in 'She's Falling in Love With Me'. The bland - again, blandness....this is getting to be a disturbing trope... - emptiness of that 'Glam trash, tramp smash doll' - so seductive, but - really what *is* s/he saying? Not much - but hopefully enough... The Jailbirds who are happier with the 'fun' they can have on the inside than the freedom on offer 'outside'. The Boytron, who only charges a 'love token' before pumping away until the batteries run out. There's joy, for sure, but emptiness too. Awkward exchanges, unfair deals like the 'let's start all over again' trip to New York that ends with a tearful pop of the cork in 'Champagne Shag'. The fuzzy end, a better writer might say, of the lolly stick...

I think the last track is the strongest, in some ways...but I'm not sure that it works without the rest of the album - and no, I'm not just saying that so you download all the tracks.... It's a personal emotional lowpoint, bizarrely captured (very quickly) on a Sunday morning - the ink not yet dry on the tears occasioned by the night before. It's the sound of a sad, cross-dressing clown realising that he's been corrupted, stomping off across the stereo soundstage. But you know (and I hope this comes through just a tad in that final, album ending flounce) that even as s/he flips up her skirts and turns tail, just like the circus, s/he'll be back in town before too long. "joining the cyber circus" once more..."performing my tricks for the world...."

I'll be posting up as many of the songs as I can in the next two or three weeks, so I hope all this will make a bit more sense once the songs have had a chance to have their say...




L.U.V. on y'all,

Bob

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Bedroom Burlesque...

Well, that's it - another one in the can. That's right, the long-awaited (trust me, five months is a *long* time in pop!) follow up to 'Madcap in the Attic' should be hitting the shelves in around 6-8 weeks time, so I thought I'd give you all a sneak preview of the album artwork and the track listing and so on. Obviously, this won't be the last you'll hear of it, but I wanted to let those very kind people who've expressed an interest in my new material know that the wait to hear the new stuff won't be *too* long. For the rest of you who aren't *remotely* interested, don't worry; it just means I'll have *even* more time to post up pictures of myself looking scantily clad and cutely vulnerable, so you'll have plenty to gawp at over the next few weeks as the Swipe promo machine grinds into overdrive ahead of the album's release!

So, what's it like? Well, obviously, I'm quite chuffed with it. I think the sound is a lot fuller than the last one and I think the overall effect is of a writer and performer getting into his (or even her) stride, but I'll let you be the judges of all that. Obviously, it was great being reunited with my old wrecking crew - that wonderful rhythm section of George Murray on bass, Dennis Davis thumping the drums and the inimitable Carlos Alomar on guitars. They really are the best band in the whole of glam, aren't they? And over their taut and sinewy grooves I had none other than ex-Utopia star Roger Powell on Keyboards and Powell Probe (I L.U.V. the sound he gets out of that thing! You'd never believe it was just an old hoover powered by a stylophone when you hear it, would you?) On lead guitar was the ever wonderful Robert Fripp, who kept Eno, Visconti and myself in tucks with his outrageous Brian Blessed impersonations (it really is uncanny, believe me) and comedy balloon farmyard implements act (the combine harvester is a modern masterpiece - I don't know where he gets the air from! Or the blade shaped balloons, for that matter...)

I L.U.V. working with old Fripp, but I might have to scale down for the next album and get my trusty old plank spanker Stray Photon on board again. Much as I L.U.V. Bob's playing, he does go on bit and I wonder if there's maybe a bit too much virtuosity and not enough ....I dunno....grit....in his playing for the slightly raunchier sound I envisage for the next project. Of course, he doesn't make matters any easier by charging by the note... So, if you're listening Stray, the amp's turned up to eleven and there's a nice mug of cocoa on the hob if you fancy it....just keep it nice and simple, eh?? Don't use 15 notes when one will do, that's the ticket...

OK, so here's a quick whistle stop tour of the LP:

First up is Joining the Cyber Circus which is, I guess a re-write of She's leaving home for the Myspace generation. Lovely Beatles for Sale style semi-acoustic work from Carlos on that one. Next up is Granny Vision Vamp, sort of PJ Harvey on a zimmer frame trying to sound like Buddy Holly. Tramp Smash is next - probably my personal fave; the best recording I've done to date, lovely rich, profound bass on it. She's Falling in Love With Me has just been posted up on the Myspace page, so you can have a listen yourselves to that one right now, as is the case with the next track, Veil & Jimmy Choos. Champagne Shag takes the tempo down a bit; John Cale and Nico having a barney over a bottle of cheap champers in the Chelsea Hotel.

What would be side two if it was a proper record kicks off with What I do - Lee Hazlewood coming out of the closet after listening to The Queen is Dead. Cathy Moriarty is Paul Simon backstage at the wrap party for 'Raging Bull'. Jailbirds is Jailhouse Rock on a ukulele. Calendar Girl was a late bonus that just popped out - Jake Thackeray sings Leonard Cohen. Boytron is *very*, *very* long! The Circus is Leaving Town is Divine singing Noboby Loves you When You're Down and Out as if it was Rock n Roll Suicide...

So, that's that! Hope you all like it. Finally, just a quick thank you to Chas Ferry for his invaluable advise and support. If, as I think it does, this album sounds like a quantum leap from the first one, that's almost entirely down to him...

xxx
Bob






L.U.V. on y'all,

Bob

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