To that long promised and long overdue recap of Static Caravan recent happenings who like Castles in Space of late, have unjustly suffered to fate’s of ill timing and treatment wobbles, what with us seemingly disappearing stage left and assuming recluse mode. That said, we do fondly appreciate these packages from the Static brothers, often they arrive stuffed with random items such as stickers, cigarette cards, postcards and various other nostalgia. However, on this occasion, they excelled themselves, please bear in mind that I am a person easily pleased, for here tucked between the various goody bag of vinyl and CD, a slightly done in copy of ‘the house at pooh corner’, a 7 inch no less pressed on blue vinyl, dating from – according to discogs, 1960 on the HMV Junior records label and featuring the very wonderfully eloquent English tones of an Carmichael, an actor held in deep regard here not least for playing the lead in one of the finest b/w comedies ever to be made, ‘School for Scoundrels’ alongside the legendary Alistair Sim. Anyway, we’ve strayed long and far enough from our intended path, back to the records and with that, to the Memory Band. It irks me greatly that these folk aren’t more commonly appreciated. Having recently sat through and endured and indeed, wasted a valuable hour watching some hopeless TV show pretending to masquerade as a hipster pop magazine, I now fully understand and appreciate why the youth of today look so glum and grey, solution ban under 25’s from buying music in any form, that way proper music might have a chance, rather than the same-y magnolia naff we are being pushed these days, oh and ban McCartney from recording studios, only joking Macca, like ‘f’uh you’ was really down with the kids eh, behave. So now that I’ve managed to offend the greater part of humankind thus ensuring a popularity rating lower than the Boris (surely not) I’ll just go off and grab a bigger shovel in order to sweep up the rest of you. Apologies then for the tirade, but I am, apparently according to my ex employer, a pensioner, ill health pressing and forcing the case, like yea thanks. Therefore, I think I’m allowed the momentary wander into grouchy. Tell you what shall we start again?
I blame the lesser spotted Memory Band, for had they not released a near perfect two track seven-inch, we‘d have not gone off-road randomly shouting at passing things. Just 300 of these from the rising from hibernation collective, Cracknell and co, with both tracks, ‘after night’ and ‘tangled man’, featuring the returning guest vocal of Nancy Wallace. Kissed with a traditional softly surrendering folk sigh, the all too briefly visiting ‘after night’ delicately flowers and blossoms, drawing to its beguiled bow a shyly awakening from slumber chamber toning over which descends a hushed spectral intimacy whose intent, to draw you near and close within whispering distance, as though a secret shared only to emerge momentarily statuesque and steeled for the oncoming storm. That said, we here are little taken with the flip, a disarming cover of an Anne Briggs penning here found softly matured and sun glazed in a deeply alluring gallic dusted delta folk blues warming of whom whose lolloping lilts and a moment alone to reflect giddy up cantering had us much minded of the distractive faraway oft encountered on the work of Nick Drake. Quite perfect in case you were asking.
the sunday experience 