I was never the sort of kid who was interested in planes or trains or automobiles, but even I got a kick out of seeing Concorde. It started commercial flights in 1976 and used to fly over our school one afternoon every week on its way from Heathrow to Bahrain. For a while that was the only route it flew out of England so spotting it was something of an event. We were usually in the playground on our way to the next lesson when it came over, everyone would excitedly look up when we heard its roaring engines and kids inside would rush over to their classroom windows to try and catch a glimpse.

What made Concorde so great was that it was (at least partly) British. It started flying during the dark days of the 1970s when the country was falling apart and we had little to be proud of except our “glorious” past, but here was this gorgeous, futuristic thing we helped design and build — easily the most beautiful passenger plane ever created. With it’s sleek, sexy lines and thrusting nose it was like the E-Type of aircraft, an object that stirred the loins of national pride. The fact that the Americans wouldn’t allow it to land at their airports made our pride swell even more, they said it was because of noise pollution but we thought they were just jealous because they hadn’t built the world’s first supersonic airliner themselves.

The Concorde project started in the 50s but to me it evoked the British “can do” forward thinking of the 1960s, that optimistic period when when we’d never had it so good and Harold Wilson was talking about the “white hot heat” of the technological revolution. It didn’t last of course, by the time Concorde was ready to fly the country was in the toilet and the oil crisis meant there wasn’t much demand for a petrol-hungry supersonic plane. So it was a bit of a white elephant that cost a boatload of money and ended up in limited service for the wealthy, but it was a magnificent white elephant and it was ours.

John Peel played some bizarre music on his show but “There Goes Concorde Again” by …And The Native Hipsters from 1980 must rank as the one of the most completely bonkers. This is nearly seven minutes of spoken word whimsy punctuated by tuneless electronic bleeps and bloops and the occasional clattering of typewriter keys. “Vocalist” Nanette Greenblatt sounds like some batty old cat lady who spends too much time indoors, watching the comings and goings of the world from behind her net curtains. You either love this or it will drive you from the room screaming. Me, I think it’s a lovely piece of peculiarly English eccentricity and never get tired of it no matter how many times she says “ooh look!” — which is a lot.

Surprisingly this was a big hit on the indie charts and I swear I remember Peel playing a parody version of it someone did about looking out of the window and seeing two Joy Division fans walk by carrying copies of “Unknown Pleasures” under their arms. Anyone else remember this or did I hallucinate the whole thing?

Download: There Goes Concorde Again – …And The Native Hipsters (mp3)

Summer officially arrived last week which is a good excuse to dig this old chestnut out. One of my favourite records from the famous “punk” summer of 1977 wasn’t “White Riot” or “God Save The Queen” but, I’m afraid to say (I’m not really), the sugary sweet “Oh Lori” by Alessi. It always reminds me of a camping trip our school took us on that summer which was memorable because we got to see our sexy young English teacher Miss Cowan in a bikini. Though we also discovered on the trip that she was having it off with our Maths teacher Mr. “Ziggy” Zbigniew which made him go right up in our estimation.

This was on the radio a lot that summer along with “Telephone Line” by ELO and “Peaches” by The Stranglers but with it’s breezy, sunny vibe this one sounds most like the soundtrack to a carefree teenage summer — though I spent a large part of that camping trip avoiding school bully Ian Smith who wanted to beat me up for some reason, so it wasn’t all that carefree. Wonder what that chubby twat is up to now. More importantly, I wonder what Miss Cowan is up to now.

Download: Oh Lori – Alessi (mp3)

Strange things happen out on the edges of cities, suburbia produces all sorts of weirdness from serial killers and cross-dressing accountants to Goth. Picture, if you can, young Susan Ballion living in Bromley in the mid-70s. A girl with a Bowie and Roxy fixation who dreams of reinventing herself a la Ziggy Stardust (Bowie grew up in Bromley too) and escaping the dreary suburban hell she lives in. Maybe she has a Saturday job behind the make-up counter at Boot’s like other girls, but she also has a taste for “outsider” culture and spends her evenings at local gay discos. Then the Sex Pistols come along and she leaps at the moment, becoming part of the infamous Bromley Contingent that follows the band around, gets herself chatted up by Bill Grundy on national television, and plays her first gig with mates Steve “Spunker” Severin and Sid Vicious under the name Suzi and The Banshees.

And 25 years later she was still going. Long after all the Toyahs, Paulines, Poly Styrenes, and Hazel O’Connors had fallen by the wayside, Siouxsie was still standing proud — the Grande Dame of post-punk and a certified icon, surviving on strength of personality and sheer bloody-mindedness.

I had a bit of a Banshees fixation myself for a few years before I grew out of the whole teenage alienation thing (in 1983 to be precise). I think I saw them live more than any other band (four times) and they were always insanely great. Siouxsie ruled from the stage like a glorious ice queen, giving withering looks to anyone who incurred her displeasure (like the punks at one gig who kept gobbing at her and calling for “The Lord’s Prayer” — if looks could kill they’d have been pushing up the daisies). She radiated that certain je ne sais quoi which makes a person a star, you couldn’t take your eyes off her.

This version of “Mirage” is from a bootleg album called “Love In A Void” which collected together the two John Peel sessions they’d taped in 1977 and ‘78 before putting out any official records. A lot of fans at the time preferred that to their proper debut album “The Scream” because it was rougher and more punky. Personally I like the official album version better but this is pretty great, raw and trashy with the metallic guitar sound that used to literally make me feel a bit queasy like someone was dragging their fingers down a blackboard (which Siouxsie would probably take as a compliment.)

Download: Mirage – Siouxsie & The Banshees (mp3)
(The Peel sessions finally came out officially last year on “Voices On The Air”)

Four years later they had guitarist John McGeoch and drummer Budgie in the band who added more colour to their old monochrome sturm und drang. I don’t listen to much Banshees these days but this extended 12″ version of “Spellbound” still sounds incredible, a blazing barrage of drums and swirling guitars. Apparently this is a bit of a Goth Disco favourite (I swear I wouldn’t know myself), perfect for modern-day Susan Ballion’s to whirl around to while dreaming about being someone else.

Download: Spellbound (12″ version) – Siouxsie & The Banshees (mp3)

The last Banshees album I bought was “A Kiss In The Dreamhouse” in 1982 which at the time I thought was their masterpiece and the single “Slowdive” one of the best things they ever did (though it was a flop on the charts). This still sounds great too, a tense dance number with a primitive, echoey beat and stabbing strings straight from the shower scene in “Psycho.” Shoegazer band Slowdive claim their name has nothing to do with this record. I believe them, millions wouldn’t.

Download: Slowdive (12″ version) – Siouxsie & The Banshees (mp3)

It’s probably just me but I think there’s something about the name “Gaye” that is very 1970s. Like “Jackie” or “Tracy” it reminds me of girls with long, centre-parted Susan Dey hair, wearing pop socks, a stripy tank top (note to American readers: in the UK a tank top is a sweater vest) and high-waisted Crimplene flares who listened to Radio Luxembourg in their bedrooms at night and dreamt about David Essex.

“Gaye” was also the only hit for Clifford T. Ward who is the epitome of the sensitive and mopey 70s singer-songwriter. It’s a very pretty record but the lyrics are really soppy (“You’re the tray of nice things I upset yesterday”) and Ward sounds so wet it’s almost twee – Gilbert O’Sullivan could probably beat him up.

These days, girls in England are given old-fashioned names with Victorian snob appeal like Olivia and Emily which lack the council estate glamour of a Gaye or Tracy. You wouldn’t catch an “Olivia” having a snog in a bus shelter.

Download: Gaye – Clifford T. Ward (mp3)
Buy: “Home Thoughts From Abroad” (album)
Photo from the Paynes Cafe Royal Reunion website.

I love the bit about “cheerfulness” which seems a terribly British way of rallying the nation. This song seems more suited to our generally gloomy disposition though, I’m surprised Morrissey hasn’t covered it.

Download: There Are Bad Times Just Around The Corner – Noel Coward (mp3)

The second concert I ever went to was Thin Lizzy at the Hammersmith Odeon in what I guess must have been late 1978 because their current album was “Live & Dangerous” (which is the one I would tell anyone to buy if they only wanted one Thin Lizzy album) and Gary Moore was occupying the lead guitarist slot. It remains the only “hard rock” gig I’ve ever been too and I remember being startled at how loud it was – it made my jaw hurt – but the mate I went with had seen Motorhead and Ted Nugent at the same venue and thought it was nothing (“you think this is loud? Ha!”) By that time I was well aware that heavy metal was about as duff and retrograde as you could get in the late 70s (and the terrible clothes!) and was faintly amused to find myself getting caught up in the atmosphere, excitedly pumping my fist in the air and vigorously nodding my head along with all the other greasy long-hairs in the audience. Even today, when I play heavier Thin Lizzy tracks like “The Rocker” I can’t stop myself from playing a little air guitar with my fingers while nodding my head and pulling the eyes-closed, white-man-overbite expression. Oh, the shame.

But trendy or not, Lizzy were yards better than your average hard rock outfit with a lead singer who oozed charisma and Irish charm and wrote romantic, lyrical songs about vagabonds, cowboys and bikers heavily influenced by Van Morrison and Bruce Springsteen. It’s usually cringe-inducing when hard rockers get all soppy and sing ballads, wailing over crashing power chords about how their sweet lovin’ woman left them, but “Still In Love With You” is a beauty in any genre, especially in this live version. A sad torch song as deep as the deepest Southern Soul ballad which Phil Lynott sings delicately without a hint of hard rock chest-thumping. The blazing twin guitar solos by Brian Robertson and Scott Gorham are pretty wonderful too and I usually hate guitar solos.

Though this was credited to Lynott apparently the song was mostly written by Gary Moore when he had a short spell with the group in the early 70s. Nice one Gary, though at the gig I had a feeling Phil didn’t appreciate you trying to hog the spotlight by showing off with the solos a bit too much.

Download: Still In Love With You – Thin Lizzy (mp3)
Buy: “Live and Dangerous” (album)