Feature
B&S 1000: A SOUL MILLENNIUM (IT'S ENOUGH TO MAKE YOU WEE...)
No one would have believed that from the moment John E. Abbey - 'E' for Englebert? (No, nearly though, it's actually Ernest - Ed) - made the decision to start Home Of The Blues/Blues & Soul, that it would reach the milestone 1,000th issue some 400 years later - that's longer than Gardeners World has been on the telly!
John moved on to start a well-known building society (you've made this bit up! - Ed) and has since retired a wealthy and wiser man. But a legend began, and I for one am proud to be writing rubbish in issue 1000 and proffering an emotional overview from a particuarly warped perspective...
When first conceived as Home Of The Blues, people frowned believing it was a book on Stamford Bridge or Goodison Park. Black acts were deemed non-newsworthy despite the huge impact of Motown, Atlantic, Stax, James Brown, Sam Cooke, Jackie Wilson and West Ham striker Clyde Best. Back in the 60s/70s, black acts were rarely seen in papers, blatant discrimination tantamount to tabloid apartheid! But with a name change and a shot of John Lee Hooker on the cover, promises of free vinyl and alcohol, Blues & Soul was born and soon established itself as a kind of black NME (people at NME who regarded their publication as a sort of white B&S, were sacked.)
Time passed and B&S was soon revered for its expertise, critical reviews and pictures of fat blokes from Essex pretending to be DJs. The music was taking over. In places like Manchester, Wigan and Stoke, northern people were embracing the uptempo grooves from artists with names like Otis and Geno, and claiming it to be northern soul! This was a bloody cheek because people in London and the south liked it just as much and would make the point by not going any further north than Dunstable because that was bad enough. The early 70s saw one act take black music further into the mainstream than anyone: The Jackson 5 with cute little Michael leading the way, who by the end of the 70s would himself be pushing the phenomenon further as a solo artist (only to become a casualty of his own superstar existence years later). Things were changing at B&S too. A fresh faced Bob Killbourn was now in charge, overseeing amongst many things, the Golden Hands Massage Parlour downstairs and other matters such as John Hassinger's expense account and a burgeoning Brit Funk scene.
UK acts are good but never as good as the Americans ones according to Choice FM. Luckily Choice was not about then so our UK artists had chances and took them. Stand up please Level 42, Light Of The World and Central Line. With them came lots of whistle blowing, slappy basslines, piped jeans and a bizarre "Woo-oh!" chant. Wedge haircuts, afro blow-outs, and other dodgy Barnets ruled! It was a man's world back then, except for when it was Ladies Night. Soul was in it's accendancy, but a new sound was in town, born of NY's club land and called 'disco' after the popular potato crisp snack of the day. Larry Levan and Studio 54 are associated names but some felt this new genre an evil menace with effigies of the Trammps and Donna Summer even burned at the 1980 Purley All Dayer led by soul revolutionary Dave Godin! But disco was here to stay and was soon joined by jazz funk - funkier than jazz, and jazzier than funk - funk had been invented by George Clinton who later became president of the United States. Jazz funk was started by Lonnie Liston Smith who left the family fruit & veg business to write 'Expansions'. Had he not, we may never have heard of Morgan Khan. The younger brother of Chaka and great-grandson of Genghis, Morgan invented Street Sounds, sounds you hear on a street but not necessarily ones like car engines or people being murdered. No. This was the soundtrack to your life, er, on the street. His genius bought us comps that included Kenny Lynch's 'Half The Days Gone'! Naturally, Marvin and Stevie were quaking in their boots. Morgan also noted the rise of Electro, later known as Hip Hop or Hip-Hop depending on whether you're bothered enough to put a hyphon in. I can't.... oh, I just did! A bloke called Afrika Bambaataa claimed to be Chief Zulu in the Bronx and all his scratching was making him rich. Cool DJ Herc and Grandmaster Flash didn't really agree but they went along with it as Bambaataa would probably kill them.
The mid to late 80s saw the rise of the rapper. Soul boy & girl were not so happy. Public Enemy, Run DMC, Joe Dolce... Who are ya? Who are ya? A Tribe Called Quest and De La Soul soon arrived and everyone calmed down a bit. Soon the synthesisers arrived and Mr. Byrite Platinum card holders Jam & Lewis lead the way, producing everyone from Janet Jackson to the Human League (don't get me started on those bastards). We did have Loose Ends but we also had curly kid Paul Hardcastle, who will forever share the blame for the rise of Simon Cowell. His '19' smash helped set up the company of the same name that started the idea for X Factor. Hardcastle you tosser!
And while the synths grooves dominated, a couple of little London lads called Gilles and Norman were beginning to make quite a stir in clubs by playing their dad's records which had real instruments on. People couldn't believe the gawl of these fellas. Norm said it was 'rare groove', Gilles just admitted they were his dad's records but he started a label called Talkin' Loud anyway, which also did good. Norm as you know is now a Lord, while Gilles still doesn't look a day over 15.
Then a bunch of cockney dreds who were always gobbing off about how funky they were and saying things like "If you dont dance, f*** off! We've got a smiley face, a loving race and a thumping bass!", which sounded a bit ravey. But with fancy names like Jazzie, Aitch and Simon; Soul II Soul put UK black music on the map. A girl called Lisa Stansfield did also, but she looked like a chain-smoking china doll. She was northern too but she sold a ton of records, even in the US, which is more than could be said of Juliette Roberts, bless her.
So as the 90s arrived B&S began embracing dance music. The hate mail poured in and Jeff Lorez shaved his hair off and moved to the States forever. The magazine remained steadfast and changed its name to Blues & Soul & House & Garage & Hip Hop & Jazz & Funk & Uncle Tom Cobbley (for a bit). Endless 4-to-the-floor riddims and a production line of diva anthems shot into the national charts daily! Former B&S staffer Pete Tong got the power and a average little island called Ibiza, where drugs and sunsets changed peoples lives forever. Even Radio 1 got in on the act. Once that happened it was only a matter of time before Kylie and Steps killed the super clubs stone dead. The Ministry Of Sound survived but that's mainly down to it being a pole dancing club these days. Masters At Work, M People and Groove Armada, all were the nuts for a bit but then the majors said "enough is enough, media want to cover guitar music now!" And dance music was reduced to Eric Prydz putting out house versions of wimpy 80's rock records.
Doug Droopey (a former B&S scribe took over a column from Paul Oakenfold before he got fucking lucky with Big Brother) once told me after a several nights of heavy drinking, "life is like a box of chocolates, you never know how much you're going to spend on one and it depends on whether you get a bunk up out of it, hic, I mean it's an investment right? Now where's my vodka?..." It never made any sense to me either but moves us nicely onto the mid-90s, when soul had become R&B. Not the miserable stuff with slaves playing banjos, no this was like Westwood... exactly man! More glamour, gold chains, diamonds and massive tits and that was just the B&S accounts department! Usher and Mary J Blige were musical royalty, Puff Daddy invented the remix (you're having a f***ing laugh mate!) and a woman with a taste for SlimFast called Missy Elliott made it big. Biggie & Tupac fell out with each other and got themselves killed by people who weren't having the argument in the first place. R. Kelly sung about too many young girls and a bunch of Brits started up speed garage, which David Beckham really liked but went pear-shaped when his godawful missus (I still chose to call her 'Posh' just because it gets on her tits!) liked it as well and put out a tune, the foxy freak!
The 21st century dawned and all those nerdy school jerks who'd said computer studies would pay off, were proved right! The internet leads the way and everyone in the physical world is doomed to a life of obscurity and wanking. Well, maybe not wanking, but there are some great porn sites coming out of Russia now. Soul music comes full circle and we're spoilt for choice! We've got grime, chill out, break beat, Beyonce, Jay-Z, Pimp My Ride specials and 24 Hour shopping at Tesco's. Neo-Soul stars in stretch limos: Maxwell, John Legend, D'Angelo enjoying carnal relations with Angie Stone! Mmmmmm, you wouldn't want to be a fly in that bedroom! Erykah Badu and Andre 3000, that's the bedroom I'd be buzzing around!
Today the B&S bible celebrates that soul music is alive and kicking (though the blues probably died with John Lee Hooker.) We download, we upload... The wonders of iTunes, MyTube, YouTwat and soon come: Virgin Time Travel (which Richard Branson assures us will be available by Xmas). It's a long way from Susan the typewriter! Jamiroquai retires and a new wave of Brits threaten world domination, mainly female. We got Corinne Bailey Rae, superb but northern. Amy Wino, brilliant but misunderstood (scary hair, tattoos and a couple of razor blades in her purse). Joss Stone, the new Aretha. Aretha, the old David Nathan. David Nathan, the new Mrs Doubtfire! While the majority of yanks have messed up with the bling'n'dogshite (I'll let off Lupe Fiasco and even Pharrell), and we may suddenly be on the brink. Unless Prince decides to offer World War 3 for free when you buy a copy of the Mail On Sunday?
And so it goes, a great big soulful road trip. It's a hell of a ride and we've only just stopped off at the service station for some over-priced drinks and fags on our way to another Southport. B&S was, is and will be, always there... and Ronnie Laws wrote that! Every twist and turn covered, none of it made up and nothing missed out, this is the gospel according to Guacamole. If you don't like it, write in and complain as I like an argument and don't get much through the post except final demands and Readers Digest prizes. It'll give me something to do while I think of something to put in issue 1001. Maybe a tribute to the famous Dry Foam Carpet Cleaner? With the unforgettable: "1001 Dry Foam. A brighter carpet, a brighter home." I bet John E. Abbey used to use it.
A thousand and counting, beat that Monty Don!
Words Lenny Guacamol
