The Second Bi-Annual Singles Club

This Thursday sees two monumental events in the cultural world happen on the same day at the same time and in the same venue, with some of the same people.

Firstly, it's the second Singles Club.
The rules are simple.
Ten 7" Singles, ten stories.
Each spinner has up to two minutes to tell the audience about their chosen song. We then play the single. The audience vote for their favourite and the winner takes home a top prize, of a trophy and Five English Pounds.

Having just completed the slide shows for the respective entries, I can promise a very interesting, funny and eclectic evening of music. Here's the winner of the first singles club, Mr. Jeff Brown with his trophy.

Tickets for the first Singles Club sold out.
The second Singles Club is this Thursday 7th June, Digital Lounge, Tyneside Cinema.
7.30 start. £5.00.
If you're planning on coming, I'd book a ticket:
https://www.tynesidecinema.co.uk/whats-on/diary/weekly#2012-06-07
You ought to, it's good fun.


Secondly, It's the end of Side One of The Record Player. An evening dedicated to listening to a record. Started back in September, rolled long gathering it's own odd momentum. We've had some fab albums, and if you've missed them, more fool you. You can always find time in your day to have a listen rather than a shuffle. It's great.

The good people of the Tyneside Cinema deserve a special mention here, they invited me in, and keep asking me back. They've been very kind, and, with the exception of Ken the projectionist coming in and turning Abbey Road down quite unceremoniously, very polite and lovely.
Thankyou Tyneside, you're great. Tyneside is good for films as well.

The Record Player is making a couple of trips out over the summer.
The Sage and The Americana Festival has invited us over for Saturday 21st July, a special bit of Johnny Cash, and War of the Worlds will be spun at Spanish City on Sunday 12th August. More details to follow.

A final big thanks to the guys and gals who have supported the RP through the good times and bad. They know who they are, they're good enough to come along to albums by bands they hate (F***ing U2?) Thank you folks.
The RP returns on the 21st September 2012

The Flotsam and Jetsam of Pop

In recent weeks I've crossed the paths of several pop stars. In their heyday three of them were Number One Top of the Pops, the other, a trier, an also ran. Of the four, only one disappointed, and that was, for me, a grave moment, I expected more, which probably says more about me than them. 

Gary Numan was booked to record a down the line interview for the radio show I produce. I had asked the lad who brokered the deal if he would forward an email, asking if Gary would tell me about a significant song for the Singles Club. The email was never forwarded, but come the day, I jumped in on the interview and explained myself . Not a problem, in fact he was concerned that the song he had chosen contained swearing and wouldn't be suitable. He was affable, honest and very warm, several million miles away from the image touted around at the height of his fame. Once that went he lived in a bedsit with a knackered old settee watching a black and white telly that belonged to his grandad. The woman who would become his wife kept him afloat. He's now an electro pop pioneer. Good on yer Gary I say, I'd buy you a pint or some batteries for your electric friend.

I'm not one for comebacks or reunion tours. I'm firmly of the opinion that the hertiage rock acts should stay exactly where they came from. I don't want to see an over weight former teen star dragging their sorry ass around an O2 singing the hits in the wrong key. New Order without Peter Hook? Like Joy Division without Ian Curtis, The Undertones without Fergal Sharkey? The Sugababes without Mutya....oh, fuck...well you know what I mean. 

I am however prepared to get off my pop high horse when it comes to Dexy's Midnight Runners. Never a band to compromise, it's been a chequered career and one that has required patience. Seeing Dexys recently was one of the greatest moments in my pop life. It was the third meeting we've had, and although I've never met him, I feel as though I know alot about Kevin Rowland. Part music hall, part soul revue, part pop explosion, nothing is watered down with Dexys. Those who don't know can deride until the earth stops spinning. They'll always be wrong. Always.

My sister Louise was a David Cassidy fan. I'd had the glad eye for Susan Dey in The Partridge Family, so Dave got into my pop blood . Daydreamer is one of my all time favourite singles. We had an interview scheduled with Dave, my presenter was late, so I jumped in. I asked him if he'd say Happy Birthday to my sister, what with her once being a fan. He began talking, taking the piss, mumbling, repeating the questions he must have been asked a million times. During this I got up, swapped seats with the interviewer Simon and went off to do my business. On editing the interview I discovered he hadn't even noticed the swap. I don't know if he was suffering from some pop star jet lag or if he just has a different reality, but I have to say that I came away thinking he was a bit of a tool. Shame, but there you go. 

Little Jimmy Osmond had more humility.

Lawrence from Felt/Denim and Go-Kart Mozart won't even be a footnote in most people's book of pop. He's more indie now than when indie was cool. He's released tons of songs, he plugs away at being a pop star, waiting for the fickle finger of fame to touch his shoulder. He's been homeless, addicted, lost and found. His guitar is in hock. There's a rather groovy film about him, Lawrence of Belgravia. He came along to a screening at the Tyneside Cinema. Afterwards he was gently honest, I bought his single "New World In The Morning", a Roger Whitaker song. It's lovely. He signed it and we shook hands. I went home on the bus with a single, like I did when I was a kid. Lawrence was gentle and self effacing, I wouldn't want to get in an arguement with him though.

What Do You Fancy?

Shaping up a Record Player programme for the Autumn, my thoughts below. Anything you fancy adding to the list please post in comments below, or email therecordplayer@yahoo.co.uk.

Once I've got some suggestions they go to a public vote.

Here's some of my thoughts:

Kate Bush - The Kick Inside

Led Zeppelin - Led Zeppelin 3

Prefab Sprout - Steve McQueen

The Human League - Dare

Dexy's Midnight Runners - Too Rye Aye

Roxy Music - For Your Pleasure

David Bowie - Diamond Dogs

Dave Brubeck - Take Five

Singles Clubs

Christmas Singles.

Halloween/Bonfire Night Special - Scary Songs/Explosive Songs

The Saddest Songs Ever

Themed Nights

California Dreaming Night - Rumours vs Hotel California

Wiggy English Prog Night - Threshold of a Dream vs Fragile

Electro Then and Now Night - Tangerine Dream vs James Blake or Burial

Mr Drayton's Album of 2012 (it's landed already)

Neil Young - Harvest vs Harvest Moon

Wiggy Punk Night - Talking Heads '77 vs XTC White Music

Whilst you're thinking on, here's some pictures of the Singles Club Crew, Thurs 12 April, 2012.

With Champion Jeff Brown holding his well deserved trophy.

The Singles Club - Sophie's Choice

Back in the olden days, before colour TVs, sex and computers, people made their own entertainment.

This entertainment often consisted of gathering to eat, drink and listen to records, not unlike these young people (left).

These records were called 'singles' and were first introduced by the RCA Victor label in 1947. The format was simple - two songs, both running around the three minute mark were released and our grandparents would buy these records in record shops.
When rock and roll burst forth, this 45rpm format was perfect for the adrenaline rush of Elvis, Chuck Berry and The Beatles.

Millions of singles have been sold over the years, though with the introduction of the Compact Disc their popularity waned.

The Record Player loves the 7" vinyl format, and so decided to pay tribute to their circular beauty by holding the first ever 'Singles Club' at the Tyneside Cinema on Thursday 12th April 2012. Ten contestants have all chosen a significant single, and they will be playing these to the audience - the audience who then vote for their favourite single of the evening.

The Record Player has decided to join the fray, but oh, what a palaver. After several days the choice has been narrowed down to 12. I now face the awful task of one single single to play to an unsuspecting audience. Which shall it be? There's only one way to find out, by joining a group of music lovers including a comedian, an artist, a TV presenter or two, a theatre maker and, on tape, an electro-pop pioneer.

There can only be one winner, and you can help decide who that person will be.

Tickets are £5, and are limited, show starts at 7.15 in the digital lounge at Tyneside Cinema.

Go here for details. Book early.
https://www.tynesidecinema.co.uk/whats-on/mr-draytons-record-player

Places I Love. No 3. Runswick Bay.

I discovered Runswick Bay when I was employed as lead actor in a huge corporate advertisement.
I portrayed a Pirate.
In a foam cup commercial.

It was directed by a bloke I vaguely knew, on the beach in March and it was perishing.
I was reasonably warm, being dressed as a pirate afforded me the comfort of a vest, the Dolly Bird (Directors term, honest) in a bikini was giving it chapel hat pegs, the poor thing.

Anyways, over the years I've had some rare old times there. I've slept in three different houses and one campsite in the village, I've been there with my all my friends and family, and you can spread my ashes, behind the chair on the path that runs just above the white house on the top right of the picture. That'll do me.

Places I Love. No 2.

No 2. The Cumberland Arms, Byker.
In the late 80's, due to some daft housing mix up, I scored a hard to let flat in Byker Buildings, which was just along from The Cumberland Arms. 


At the time it was managed by a bloke called Billy. The tip of Billy's nose was plastic. It looked as though someone had bitten it off in a fight. 
Come to think of it, Billy looked like he could have  bitten his own nose off in a fight with himself. Despite this, regular visits brought about a warm familiarity. 




The same could not be said of the barman, whose name was quite inappropriately, Tommy Cooper. He was a sour man. I only ever once saw him outside the pub, walking down Shields Road. It was wrong seeing him out of context and in daylight. Daylight didn't suit him. He died in the end. Probably of sourness.


One of the great things about the Cumberland was the upstairs room. It was free to use. Just about anyone who had an interest in comedy and music played here. It was a bit shabby, and you could do whatever you wanted. At one show we were playing, and, this still haunts me to this day, I hit Phil Hinsley, from the stage, on the head, at full swing, with a Blue Peter annual. Really hit him hard. There were cartoon birds flying round his bonce. I'm sure I had good reason to, but it was a big surprise when it happened. 

These days, thanks to some canny management, The Cumberland is still going strong. When twatty pubs the length and breadth of the country are being closed down, this simple, friendly no frills pub goes from strength to strength. It's a testament to all who frequent the bar, a bar that still supports local talent and, on sunny days, brings round sun cream to ensure you don't get burnt whilst in your cups. If they could just sort out the staffing to calm endless bar queues on busy days it's be the best pub in the world. Oh, fuck it, it is the best pub in the world. 

Places I Love.

Just a slight swerve, from the music.
Some places in Newcastle that I love.

No 1. Scotts Gentlemen's Hairdressers, The Side, Newcastle.

I've been going here for 25 years. I was first taken here by Steve Lynch, one of the worst drummers I've ever had the pleasure of being in a band with.



It was 1985, and the height of checky-shirt-flat-top-mania. I'd already got a good flatty after getting my hair fettled by the barbers that Madness frequented on Camden High Street. In a new town, I needed a new gentleman barber, and I found one.

There were queues into the street to get your hair cut, especially on a Saturday.  They close at 12.30 on a Saturday morning, but followed the golden rule, if you're over the threshold, you get your haircut. Quite often people would be there a couple of hours later.

Nowadays it's a little quieter, but the crack is just the same. There's Dave, Shaun and Barry. Shaun's the new boy, he's been there a couple of years, his cut is top notch, he takes really good care. Barry is a grumpy young man, he left for a while, but came back in the end. Dave is the boss, he's a little mellower these days. When I first started going there, I thought him to be quite ferocious.
He knows all about me and my family, and I love the fact that he asks after them. That's him there talking. And talking. And talking.

In 25 years I've only had my haircut in three different places. They never got it right. At Scotts they do. It's a great place to spend half an hour, and you always come out looking smart, and it's still less than a tenner to get a haircut.