The miserable truth behind Sky’s coverage of ‘Transfer Deadline Day’.

Yes, we’re fast approaching another Transfer Deadline Day. Sky’s ghastly cynical concoction of vainglorious gluttony, sold on pure hype and the desperation and exasperation of football fans everywhere. Even though this was originally written for the end of last summer’s shenanigans, pretty much all of it still applies for the January window. Over to you Jimbo…

Wichita Lineman Was A Song I Once Heard's avatarWichita Lineman Was A Song I Once Heard

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With each passing year Sky’s coverage of ‘Transfer Deadline Day’ seems to get bigger, more preposterous and above all peculiar. Peculiar in that ‘Transfer Deadline Day’ is now marketed and sold as its own event. That in itself is alarming, as it’s very hard to reconcile the basic premise of what ‘Transfer Deadline Day’ is with its artificial new reality. The reality is a twenty-four hour sports news channel has proliferated something which asks you to watch footballers and their agents, over a period of several hours, arrive at a training ground, mill around inside and then exit in a black windowed Range Rover. All of this is shot from a distance outside of the boundaries of said training ground – so you see very little – while a collection of ghastly second rate journalists, all likely to be BBC rejects, talk uninformed nonsense to fill the time over said…

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It’s about time we asked why and how the media and reality TV demonise “scroungers”.

Benefits street

If you use any form of social media you may have noticed that there’s been a divisive reaction to the recent airing of a reality documentary, called ‘Benefits Street’, on Channel 4 in the UK.

There have been two stock reactions; first, an aggressive, indignant derision of the show’s subjects as being widely indicative of a sponging underclass, and second, those who lament the castigation and lazy categorisation of the poor or unemployed, based on government rhetoric and crappy reality television shows, as reductive, inaccurate and unfair.

This split really wasn’t a surprise, what was different was how polarised it has become, and that this is becoming widely indicative of the divide over many other issues.

The current rancid Tory government’s (or token coalition if you’re a pedant) stance, and the reasons for it, on the issue of benefits, has much to do with the creation of the climate around it. In truth it has succeeded by virtue of framing the debate around benefit claimants in such absolutist terms. You’re either for ‘the scroungers’ and keeping the current system in place that allows them to ‘rip us off’, or they should be made to work for it, or be denied it altogether, and as result suffer a Dickensian existence, well, just because that would be fair, or something.

The middle ground, where each person’s claim for social security or job seeker’s allowance, and how much they should get, is reviewed on its own merits and in isolation, is shrinking. The onus is on those who oppose the loathsome Iain Duncan Smith’s reforms to disprove the validity on which they are predicated.

So just what are they predicated on?

The first and most obvious answer is that they’re Tory bastards. Just as Thatcher attacked the working class and the industries that employed them thirty years ago, portraying them as a threat to aspiration, so this current Tory lead coalition is attacking the weakest sectors of society. The convenient excuse is that they (we?) need to cut the deficit, so that ‘hard working families’ and ‘small businesses’ can prosper within another farcical housing bubble. So people who aren’t contributing, the disabled and the unemployed, those whose funding is equivalent to the rise in VAT, or any misnomer you can think of, are first up for the hammer. Meanwhile those in the top tax bracket get a five percent cut in tax, obviously. It makes perfect sense when you look at it dispassionately. Getting tough on the ‘needy’ appeals to the ideology that colonises a vast swathe of the Tory voting block – the politically insular, entirely apathetic nuevo bourgeoisie, who exhibit the risible sense of self entitlement that Thatcher’s policies helped create. See, mass categorisation isn’t very nice, is it?

The second is the message itself. As the medium is the message, never before has the method with which you choose to get your message, your version of the truth across, been so vital. There are many mediums and forms through which news exists, and each one carries its own challenge as to how political spin doctors can manipulate the public perception of an issue. There’s left and right leaning blogs, various news channels and websites with editorial biases, left and right wing Twitter accounts, etc, etc to contend with. Anyone can pre-filter the news to suit their outlook. Never before has choosing what you want to believe been so easy.

This brings us television, which is still the most potent source of delivering an ideological message effectively, because it can combine politicking with what can be categorised as entertainment seamlessly. Social media, at this point, in this context, still primarily exists as the means of reacting to things seen on television.

As per usual television’s part in the process of demonising the unemployed and underclass (which is an ugly moniker) as scroungers is interesting, particularly the continuation of the fairly recent trend of reporting extremes, and presenting this as normal journalistic practice. This is where the Tories have been clever and capitalised. Sensationalism is nothing new, but that it’s now normal, or considered to be representative of ‘reality’, for the purposes of entertainment, is alarming.

I think we’ve come to the point where it’s necessary to distinguish between entertainment and art, and not only entertainment and art, but media entertainment and artistic entertainment on television. Television, as a medium, is capable of doing both, of being both, and on certain occasions at the same time. The best example I can think of is Screenwipe, a satirical and thus non partisan (as everyone and everything is ridiculed) magazine show which reports and comments on current affairs, and how myopically, inaccurately and or stupidly the news covers them.

Media, entertainment and art do of course share an objective – they exist to alter our perception of reality. The question then becomes why and in what way?

In the case of “Benefits Street” was it, as its shows curators claimed, to present the people on benefits favourably and with compassion, or was it to feed the cultural expectation that’s been created, by and only on television, of what the underclass and benefit scroungers are like?

I would claim it is able to do both.

Now a confession, I didn’t watch Benefits Street. I didn’t have to, as Benefits Street is ‘reality entertainment’. It’s a fictional reconstruction of reality. As one person’s perception of reality isn’t and cannot be reality to someone else, so is a television programme, especially one that’s been edited to convey someone else’s perception of the truth. Clearly, the show’s cynical intention is to position itself in the debate around social degradation, unemployment and its causes, and it is designed to foment the pre-packaged ideological viewpoint of the viewer on said issues, not challenge them. This, perhaps unwittingly, helps support the message of the ideologues that are in power, who have brought the debate forward.

However, it is us who are at fault. We created this platform through demand. In recent years there have been many shows of Benefit Street’s ilk, all of which encourage our innate schadenfreudian gawking at the worst facets of human degradation and desperation. Regardless of whether we’re sympathetic to the subjects and their plight or not, most of us prefer to consume them at a safe distance. So can we complain when they become the main means for the uninformed to project their petty prejudices?

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when this peculiar fascination of ours permeated television this pervasively. There probably isn’t a tipping point, just a slow erosion of standards of what was acceptable or considered to be informative forms of media and programming. The point where I started to take notice and I suspect so did others, was the advent of the Big Brother. Not necessarily the concept of Big Brother itself, but how media’s perception of popular culture’s interest in it, and the reasons for it, worked together to bastardise it into something more than just a crappy game show, increasing its popularity, and setting the template for things to come. The internet was taking off, never before could so many illiterate intolerant people publish their thoughts so quickly on something so vacuous. Today the time for measured thought has now all but vanished, what you think, what your instant reaction to what you see on television in that moment supersedes all.

To stay relevant television had to adapt to this new paradigm, and so we get more shows like Benefits Street. It doesn’t exist to educate, it’s structured to polarise and provoke those on either side of the political spectrum with cheap clichés that are emblematic of ‘Broken Britain’. It leaves the viewers to squabble over media contrived perceptions and of the show’s intent in real-time, while in reality, the actual reality, people continue to suffer, and the Tory party’s policies continue to cause real damage to our societies sense of fairness and cohesiveness.

This whole debate around Benefits Street masks a lack of empathy in our culture, which is slowly eroding with each passing day. At the root of this negative perception of people on benefits is the inherent belief that we’re superior to others in some discernable way. The issue of benefits provides a platform for this to be played out and in turn the truth becomes an inconvenience and an afterthought. The anger shown to those clichéd examples of benefits claimants that only exist on television is one example. Another is the condescending browbeating by lefties towards those who hold that misinformed opinion. Instead of looking to inform, many deride, revelling in their moral and intellectual superiority. It’s no better than those who mindlessly hate the scroungers on Benefits Street, and what they represent to them, the worst facets of their nature – laziness, selfishness and ignorance.

The reality of living on £70 a week is pitiful, demoralising and stressful. I’ve done it you see, going down the Job Centre to sign on, for most, is a humiliation. It was one of the lowest moments of my life, and I imagine it will remain so.

So it always amuses me when I hear some intellectual or politician openly ruminate and then espouse the notion that taking this away would act as an incentive. If you strip away everything from someone, any hope they do have is vanquished, and they’re likely to become disillusioned with a society that doesn’t care about them or value them, it sends the message that they’re an irrelevance, an inconvenience. Why would anyone be motivated to aspire to be part of a system that rejects and holds them in such contempt?

The choice, and it is a choice, to believe that benefit claimants receive so much for contributing so little rankles the most with those who go out to work hard, and they always say they ‘work hard’, don’t they? They also say they receive barely more than claimants. It’s pure egotism, as it allows them to see themselves in a noble or admirable light. Housing benefits claimants as social pariahs on television is the new ghettoisation, and it’s one driven both by ideological selfishness and technology working together. It means they can be demonised for your own gratification without you ever having to confront and empathise with the realities of what being a job seeker entails, and more importantly introspectively analysing why you think the way you do about them.

It struck me that this attack on the unemployed, and immigrants, is entirely hypocritical when set against the backdrop of a concerted trend towards ensuring greater moral and legal equality for groups who had previously faced discrimination, and in some cases were persecuted by law. The cynic in me believes that this is now passé, taken for granted or accepted by those who are unaffected, and is being upheld by those in power only for political capital. As commendable and necessary as it was, and we can call it progress, I contend that in this media saturated climate the switch in the west to publicly denounce the negative, now minority opinions some have of accepted minorities only drives prejudicial thoughts into the realm of privacy, where opinions are more likely to fester in resentment, and most importantly go unchallenged within that limited milieu. And what better conduit for prejudices to be cemented and fomented than reality television documentaries, such as Benefits Street, which allow you, in your own home, to say and think whatever you like about its subjects.

The result of this is we’re left with a disparity between how people have to be treated, rather than people wanting to treat them fairly through an acknowledgement of what decency is. We’re seeing many less stable democracies revoke certain so called (though they shouldn’t be) minority human rights by amending their constitutions. That may be an extreme example, where the minority becomes the majority. Here the reaction is still mostly provincial and confined to the individual sphere, but as we’ve seen with the rise of UKIP, these topical breeding grounds of resentment offer an easy campaigning pitch for the fanatical right. In short, the media’s ability to offer a form of safe detachment for prejudicial views, when coupled with certain cultural expectations that oppress them, can work to discourage the acceptance of diversity.

All opinions are formed by experience. What we don’t or cannot experience first hand we get through the surrogacy of the media. In a lot of cases we now absorb elements of our culture entirely through the context with which they appear in the media.

We’re all subject to this conditioning, particularly by television. In my weaker moments unfounded perceptions, notions and or prejudices have crept in. I can think of two clear, recent examples. My mum, who was very intelligent and rational, thought that Kate and Gerry McCann were guilty of killing their daughter. When I challenged her as to why she held this belief stringently, namely what evidence she had, her answer was depressingly unsatisfactory. A gut feeling is what it amounted to, that and the allegation that they were swingers. All of her opinions were informed by the facts of the case, as reported by the news. There were of course very few facts, which made it so compelling for most, but the news, now in its twenty-four hour formatting, was presented as opinion, reporters waffled on, speculating, even offering their own dire deductive reasoning as to what had happened. Opinions were formed on the irresponsibly uninformed opinions of others who had to fill time with ‘something’.

Five years ago a woman who worked in a nursery in Plymouth was arrested as part of a paedophile ring. The leader was of course a bloke, but that isn’t the point. I struggled to believe that women could be paedophiles, or commit sexual acts on children. It seemed impossible to conceptualise, and I’d never considered it possible beforehand. On further analysis why did I believe this? Is it because I’d never heard of a woman sexually abusing a child, or was it simply that because most of the paedophiles I’d seen convicted, on television, were men, and that I assumed, due to this, that it was entirely a male complex?

Television, with the current prevailing style of news reportage and the glut of reality programming, encourages us to think in such narrow, clichéd parameters. Timothy Leary once famously said, “Turn on, tune in and drop out”, but nowadays in this context, taken literally, it is bad advice. We should start turning off bad television, tuning in to introspection and eschewing any form of pseudo reality. Then we might start looking around us, looking at reality, and asking ourselves what it is and what we really think of it.

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Song Of The Day – T-E-L-E-G-R-A-M-M by Byetone

From the album ‘Symeta’ (2011)

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Song Of The Day – Be Yourself by Hawkwind

From the album ‘Hawkwind’ (1970)

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Essential Listening: The Rolling Stones – Let It Bleed Sessions (1969) & Welcome to New York (1989)

stones welcome-to-new-york1Let-It-Bleed-Sessions

 

 

 

 

 

 

Look, I’m biased. I absolutely love the Rolling Stones, in fact they’re my favourite band, but it became abundantly clear that it would be boring to write (and for that matter read) yet another review of “Let It Bleed”, “Beggars Banquet”, “Sticky Fingers” or “Exile On Main St.” They’ve all been done to death by the written word. Enough. Just put them on and listen.

As a succession of albums, other than any four in a row you care to choose by the Beetles, those Stones albums belong at the very top of an era many consider to be the zenith of contemporary music – the late sixties to early seventies. Most of the great albums from this period have been written about excessively, and in my opinion completely over analysed and contextualised. We can all do without great music being plagued this way, especially great music that everyone, well almost everyone, has experienced, likely in a vacuum, long after the fact.

As a medium that’s entirely subjective, once music is discovered the opinions of others cease to become truly relevant. An opinion can of course influence you to try something, or for that matter dissuade you, but after you experience it, what you like about it and how it interests you is all that matters. You certainly don’t want to read a preaching article condescendingly telling you if you don’t own and appreciate the finer nuances of “Led Zeppelin IV”, “Exile On Main St.”, “Aladdin Sane”, “Electric Warrior” or the “White Album”, to name but a few, that you’re someone strange, or, at best, someone whose taste and or judgment is to be distrusted.

Of all the bands from this era The Stones’ output has always interested me the most. They lasted the longest (somehow) and their catalogue, particularly up until “Tattoo You”, stands up against anything. This means they’ve made more music than most of their contemporaries, and as such – stating the obvious here – there’s more of it. And when I say more of it, I don’t just mean studio albums.

What’s always separated them, in my opinion, is as a live act. Great as they are, their aforementioned great four albums listed above, like all studio releases, don’t transmit this fact. Therefore you’re missing an essential ingredient of their greatness. And what captures that best, other than seeing them live? Bootleg releases of gigs and studio sessions.

Bootlegs are one of the last vestiges of musical discovery of well represented and known acts. Above all else they provide an insight into how a band’s greatest songs evolve from studio or session development to the final mastering you’re more familiar with on the albums.

Without question “Let It Bleed Sessions” is the best Stones bootleg out there, or of the ones that I’ve come across. There will undoubtedly be others I haven’t heard of, and that in itself is part of a bootleg’s appeal, because there’s always a chance you’ll find an undiscovered gem, or a new version of one of the Stones classics.

I’d say “Let It Bleed Sessions” is important artefact to Stones fans, as it offers an intimate view of the Stones at their creative peak. It shows the heart of the song writing process, the backbone of the songs are taking shape, and compositional decisions on a song’s direction are taking place. Sessions encompasses most of the material that would form the majority of “Let it Bleed” and “Exile On Main St.” Sadly, despite being released between these two albums “Sticky Fingers” isn’t represented, as the material for it was developed separately to the “Let It Bleed Sessions” due, you suspect, to a dispute with Decca records. Yet, despite the wrangling and god knows what else, “Sticky Fingers” was still a great album, they just couldn’t help but make great music at this point.

In Keith Richards’ autobiography he often talked of how finding the right surroundings to create the right pitch, tone or effect for each instrument was far from a scientific process. It was appropriately spontaneous; find a space, close to wall, confined or in an open space, and give it a go. See if the sound reverberates just right.

Most of the songs on the sessions reflect this insouciant approach, and of course foments an ambience that’s inevitably and lazily associated with the mythologizing of the Stones. It’s the music of booze, drugs, swelteringly hot claustrophobic studio surroundings and musicians hanging loose, or something. What you can truly extrapolate from listening is that at this stage they’re unconcerned with perfection, or if a song’s incomplete due to missing certain instrumental elements – they may not have thought to add them at this point.

‘Hip Shake II’ is indicative of this. There’s no brass, just the two guitars; one rhythm, one lead, while the drums have persistent tapping to make up for the shortfall in other instrumentation. My description and perception of how the drums are utilised is jaundiced, as initially I had difficulty assessing this version on its own merits, much like any of these alternate versions, as you compare it to the final version, as that’s the reference point. So while on first listen it seemed incomplete, like a jam rehearsal, the guitar work slowly started to charm its way into ascendancy, and there’s a satisfying loud drum snare which signals the start of that guitar solo that won’t fail to get your arse moving. While the final version on Exile is clearly a sharper, bluesy and mellower affair due to the inclusion of the sax, it lacks the vivacity and spontaneity of the Session’s version.

The finest sessions tracks or versions are ‘Stop Breaking Down’ and ‘Loving Cup I’. The griminess is turned up to eleven on both. ‘Loving Cup I’ features the marvellous combination of a Jamaican-esque steel pan drum along with a crescendo of brass near the end. On ‘Stop Breaking Down’ there’s practically no difference in composition from the Session’s version to the final version on Exile. The only thing missing is a few distorted hollers by Mick. Here it sounds as it should – filthy as fuck, out of control, imperfect, shot straight from the hip without any airs and graces.

‘Honky Tonk Women’ is one of the finest songs the Stones penned. The Session’s version is played without any country-esque lead guitar inflections, which are a vital element that really make the song. The lyrics are different in the second verse – ‘Strolling on the boulevards of Paris/As naked as the day I would die/The sinner’s there so charming there in Paris’. This time it’s the final version that’s vital and fleshed out, but this take is interesting for the lyrical changes alone, and two’s better than one, right?

More than anything the “Let Bleed Sessions” reveals just how prolific the Stones were during this period. As far as I can tell ‘Jiving Sister Fanny II’ didn’t manage to make it onto any of the Stones albums in any guise. Most of the jams are sans vocals, such as ‘Potted Shrimp’, ‘Trident Jam’, ‘Aladdin Song’, none of which were developed into songs. Though in the case of ‘Aladdin Song’, it was developed further for Exile, renamed ‘So Divine’ which you can get on the highly recommended remastered and expanded version of Exile released a couple of years ago. The Exile reissue has an early version of ‘Tumbling Dice’ too, or at least elements of a song which inspired it called ‘Good Time Woman’. The good news is that it’s just different enough from ‘Tumbling Dice’ to be considered on its own merits.

Mick seems largely peripheral on the Sessions going by number of appearances on tracks and lyrics offered within them. Mick still sings of course, but when he does it’s often muted, off key, and in certain instances, as on one of the two versions of Gimme Shelter, Keith provides the main vocal. The other version of Gimme Shelter, ‘Gimme Shelter 2’ is finer than the final version which appears on Let It Bleed. Once again the guitars are grimier, sounding almost overdubbed. The tempo is quicker. There’s clearly no mastering of the sound, so there’s an abundance of extraneous noise that super charges the track and doesn’t allow the intensity or pace to let up. Mick’s singing is languid and lacks focus, which just adds to its appeal, and there’s no backing singing to overpower him or the track beneath. What you get is a slightly stripped down dirtier version of the song, which seems to fit the song’s subject matter better. That’s the consistent theme with the “Let It Bleed Sessions”, in a way it’s an antidote to the gentrified homogenised mastering and cleansing of mistakes, and instead revels in the imperfect atmosphere/circumstances which often inspired the creation of most of the great music the Stones produced.

While “Let It Bleed Sessions” makes the work of the band; Taylor, Richards, Watts and Wyman the focus, the MSG gig in 1972 showcases Mick’s showmanship, particularly if you decide to peruse the video footage to go with the gig. It does of course show the immense control they had over the raw power of their sound on stage, which the band had honed during an intense summer of touring North America.

The New York gig also goes one step further, as a contextual piece, when placed alongside the session bootlegs and studio albums. It offers a concise picture of how a Stones song evolves – from conception, to studio release, to being performed live.

At the top I’ve used the album cover for “The Rolling Stones: Welcome to New York”, disingenuously, it has to be said. The official release of the 1972 gig has a track list only eight long, all live cuts from the gig. But what you really want is the pro-shoot bootleg of the whole gig, and of the rehearsals beforehand, and if you do a bit of digging, or rather, I’m doing it for you, you’ll get all these goodies. Your only stop should be here, to download those links – the filefactory.com ones to be precise. Yes, that’s a whole lot of hard drive space, and waiting, but just trust me, it’s worth it. I want to personally thank the lovely human being who put the effort into editing and uploading this gem. It’s why the internet exists. I’m convinced.

So what are you getting? A mixture of live performed songs, and the pre-gig rehearsals as they were intended to be performed, recorded over two separate New York gigs in the summer of 1972. Audio samples from both are used in conjunction with the video feed from the gig. You’ll spot that some of the video footage from this documentary appears on HBO’s excellent Crossfire Hurricane documentary. If we’re to consider the 1972 gig as a genuine historical document then there is a bit of cheating, as the audio from some of the rehearsal cuts is layered over the audio-less video feed of the gig. But why nitpick? As far as a re-enactment of the event it’s as faithful as it could be, given the material is all sourced from that time, albeit separately and selectively. In the end you get the best of both worlds – quality and authenticity.

Being specific, the audio of ‘Jumpin Jack Flash’ and ‘Midnight Rambler’ are both rehearsal cuts, of sorts, but really they’re the final versions of the songs as they were intended to be performed on stage. In the case of ‘Midnight Rambler’ it was a song designed to be performed at its best live. This specific version is the best I’ve come across. There’s Mick Taylor’s melodic but still potently acute touch during that slow grind in the middle of the song, supplemented by Jagger’s indulgent squealing, while Charlie tries to burst the kit. Then there’s the final build-up, where Jagger’s voice is gravelly and laboured, just as you imagine a midnight rambler’s would be. It’s perfect.

The cuts from the gig or gigs themselves are similar to the sessions in one sense, instead of extraneous noise from the instruments, there’s crowd noise, that and the reverberation of sound from the amps within the cavernous MSG building gives the music an almost supersonic effect. At points you could argue that the visual representation of the gig, with the rabid crowd and Mick Jagger’s on stage theatrics, and I mean that in the sincerest of ways, brings an extra aggression to the songs that listening to the MP3’s or Flac’s alone cannot. This is the case with ‘Street Fightin’ Man’. More than anything this live version exemplifies that a memorable live performance is reliant not only on the band bringing it, but on seeing the feedback and energy of the crowd, and that this often permeates and elevates music. Oh yes, and once again on ‘Street Fightin’ Man’ Mick Taylor owns it like a boss.

I consider “Let It Bleed Sessions” and “The Rolling Stones: Welcome to New York” as more than just, just bootlegs, they’re fitting representations of the variety and versatility that all great songs possess. Owning them won’t make you more of a Stones fan than you are already, they didn’t with me, but as a different slant on the Stones, an insight into their song writing process, or how their songs change when performed live, they’re just the ticket. Just get them. And if that seems a bit preachy, then so be it. Here it’s more than justified.

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