By Ginger | March 19, 2001
Hey, hey, hey… so it all happened as laid down in the hopeful rantings of last month’s intro. Funny what happens when you commit yourself… or, if you like, ‘careful what you wish for’.
Gotta admit, the response from the news that The Wildhearts are to reform was quite frankly ridiculous. Men openly weeped, women openly weeped, sores openly weeped… and the UK was once again a cool place to be.
Well, the news this month is that the line-up has been completed by Stidi on drums, recreating the magic line-up of the classic Earth Vs The Wildhearts album. So that’s three Geordies and a southern, shandy-drinking nancy puff (just don’t tell CJ that I said that or he’ll kick my ass).
There looks likely to be an available slot for The Wildies at this year’s Bulldog Bash, as well as a tour in June, from 15th to the 20th. Just a short one first. Got to get the lube oils dripping again.
The band got together in ‘full line-up mode’ (for the first time in nearly ten years) on Friday 16th March to celebrate the completion of the first of my ‘solo’ singles (remember the 12 singles in 12 months plan? It has begun… and we don’t even have 12 months to do it in. Oh man, the impossible gives me the fucking horn). A small party was held, post-recording, at the studio… resulting in the warmest bout of mayhem I have had the pleasure to witness in a long, long time.
Man, I’ve missed these guys so much it really does feel good… y’know, like a band! CJ even supplied backing vocals on a couple of tracks, while Stidi played drums and SG5’s ‘Random’ Jon Poole carried out his bass workout in suitably impressive style. Fuck, can that boy shred! Hey, even Alex Kane turned up to torture some guitars. Is there anyone out there that doesn’t love this guy? Well, if there is, you’d better keep the hell away from this here site, buddy.
The final decision about which song to call the A-side was made at about 1 pm on Monday 19th March. When four tracks can all stand up to each other face to face, eyeball to eyeball, and like mad dogs fucking it’s imposssible to pull them apart, then the final decision is just to pick the one that rocks the most, a kind of sonic flip of the coin. And the victor is a belter called I’m A Lover Not A Fighter, a song originally written for Backyard Babies (with Dregen in mind for vocal duties) and inexplicably passed upon. Have a listen and tell me that it rocks harder than a crushed diamond enema. Put another way, you wouldn’t turn it down… so neither did I!
So the B-sides on the CD single look likely to be Same Again (an alcoholic prayer) and Don’t Let Me Die Lonely (a romantic’s plea, originally written as an A-side, which lets you in on the quality here). Add to that a vinyl single featuring the B-side Thailand Uber Alles (written during my stint in that Bangkok pokey) and you should be due to wipe that saliva dripping from your chin right about now (please note that there’s been a change of plan regarding the vinyl. See 21 March news – Ed). Recorded nice and quick and featuring more hooks than a New Order bassist look-alike competition, you could say I’m quite proud of this, the first wee step in making the impossible seem merely fun.
And just when you thought the fun has to stop somewhere, you remember where you are and open another cold one… SilverGinger 5 look certain to appear headlining one of the Metal Hammer nights of mayhem going down between 4th and 9th of June. Add this to the fact that The Wildhearts have been officially turned down to appear at the Ozzfest (surely a thousand of you could send emails letting the Ozzfest know that they just lost a lot more sales than whoever else is opening up? When will these people learn? Well, pretty fucking soon I reckon, but anyway…), and you will no doubt agree that this has been a pretty eventful few weeks.
And you know what? I have a funny feeling that the next few weeks are going to make this look like time off. I’m going into the studio on 26th March to record singles numbers two and three in one shot (owing to the fact that we gotta release one every three weeks, or something), so we’re talking eight bloody songs, man. No fillers and no fat. Family-sized nuggets of sonic / melodic pleasure and eclectic charm to warm the coldest and most jaded of stereos.
2001, as predicted, is already rocking like a motherfucker… and we’re only just starting to get the blood pumping. This country is going to be rubble by this summer. The news that rock ‘n roll is the next new thing, and will be spearheaded by Europe (the continent, not the band), will be on everybody’s lips. And Popstars / Hear’Say (regardless of the fact that the oriental-looking one is fucking gorgeous… aw, come on, have a look willya?) will pave the way for us rockers to dance upon the rotting corpse of Britpop shouting “I’M IN LOVE WITH THE ROCK ‘N’ ROLL WORLD”.
You only have to walk down any high street known for its fashion to see the proliferation of ‘flame’, ‘dice’, ‘number 13’, ‘devil head’, Coop- / Kozik-style shirts to tell the trend, feel the fad, and see the style of summer. It’s all coming back, boys and girls… and it’s all coming back home.
Drop that guitar a notch or two on that strap, make sure that shirt matches those shoes, and lose that fucking beer belly… sex is coming. Oh sorry, I meant to say SEX IS COMING… SEX IS COMING… SEX IS COMING… SEX IS COMING… SEX IS COMING… SEX IS COMING… SEX IS COMING… SEX IS COMING… (Blimey, that’ll improve our chances in search engines – Ed.)
And don’t forget who told you.
Songsmith, band leader, baby machine and fortune teller?
I love my job(s).