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Louis Barabbas

~ If you don't let your imagination run away with you… it might run away with someone else

Louis Barabbas

Tag Archives: music

Harry Doherty 1953-2014

29 Tuesday Apr 2014

Posted by louisbarabbas in Bedlam Six, Uncategorized

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Tags

harry doherty, melody maker, music, queen, thin lizzy

So sad to hear that Harry Doherty (writer for Melody Maker, Metal Hammer and many other music magazines, plus official Queen and Thin Lizzy biographer) has died.

Freddie, Harry and PhilHarry was an enthusiastic champion of The Bedlam Six, giving us a vital boost and sense of affirmation when we most needed it. We first met him back in the days of playing for beer in the corners of pubs – gigs in which stoic punters were required to duck and weave through the band (fingers in ears usually) just to reach the toilets. He came up to me after a show to say how much he’d enjoyed it. We kept in touch and later he joined us for the recording of our Memoir Noir EP, listening back to the days’ performances and generously donating to our teetering collection of empty wine bottles. He also contributed hand-claps to the record. Definitely a man with a unique sense of rhythm.
Harry Handclaps
Harry was that rare breed: a passionate critic with an open mind. He was an early supporter of Queen and Kate Bush while other journalists were either ignoring or sneering at them (needless to say we chose to interpret this as a favourable omen). Even after quitting full-time rock journalism he was always open to the discovery of fresh talent, seeing no difference between the new songs he liked and the old songs he liked. Later when he came to write Queen’s official biography he got me invited to the book launch at Soho’s Groucho Club (where I briefly met Brian May and even touched his Red Special!), a place that didn’t seem to be a natural environment for either of us. It’s rare for someone in a largely unknown band to rub shoulders with rock royalty and not be made to feel inferior, but music is supposed to be a great leveller and Harry made sure those around him didn’t forget it.

Musicians and music critics alike could all learn a lot from him.

Honoured to have known you Harry,
with love from
Louis and the Bedlams.

To read some of Harry’s articles click here.

Notes from the latest video shoot

14 Saturday Dec 2013

Posted by louisbarabbas in Uncategorized

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Tags

music, video

This week we’ve been shooting a video to accompany “I Want To Know More” (the second track on our new album Youth – released early next year).

It deals with familiar themes: rage and farce mingled together within the framework of a struggling relationship. The difference this time, however, is that there is no fantasy; the narrator is plonked squarely in the middle of a naturalistic domestic scenario, one that he has seemingly maintained successfully for a number of years. My little anti-hero must be growing up to have achieved such stability. But, as ever, jealousy and paranoia bubble up within him, propelling the unhappy couple towards the inevitable violent combustion of their idyllic tableau.

Vid1

I talk a lot about the importance of knowing one’s audience, of breaking down all those absurd notions of celebrity and division. This video is a case in point. The reason it happened at all is that I met Ella (the producer) at a series of Bedlam Six gigs. She describes herself as a fan, but she’s definitely now a friend. She asked if we’d mind her using one of our songs for a university project and I said we’d be delighted. That project became this video. She rustled up a treatment we both liked and before you could say “Mr DeMille I’m ready for my close-up” I’m on the floor of her mum’s hallway covered in feathers from a cushion I’ve just ripped to pieces. An hour later Ella’s boyfriend is dragging the nozzle of a vacuum cleaner up and down my trousers in a procedure that probably comes with a hefty fee at certain high-end brothels.

My music career did not follow the path I dreamt it would ten years ago.
I bet Kanye West doesn’t spend his days like this.
He’s the poorer for it.

I Ain’t Done (being young)

20 Tuesday Aug 2013

Posted by louisbarabbas in Bedlam Six, releases, Songs

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bedlam six, i ain't done, music, release

© Ste Webster 2013

The first single from the new album will be out on 2nd September.

All mailing list subscribers will automatically receive it free of charge (whether they like it or not).

“Spotifee, Spotify, Spotifo, Spotifum…” A story about the giant in the cloud and a cash cow exchanged for magic beans

17 Wednesday Jul 2013

Posted by louisbarabbas in Articles, Keyhole Observations, Pundit

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

money, music, music industry, nigel godrich, pay, spotify, sustainability, thom yorke, twitter

spotify pirate

On Sunday 14th July Thom Yorke and Nigel Godrich sparked a debate on Twitter by saying Spotify is bad for new artists. The next morning the choicer tweets were reported in the mainstream press with Yorke once again cast in the role of indie messiah. Tuesday then brought allegations of hypocrisy from both the old guard and the bright young things. Meanwhile the rest of the music world scratched their heads and said “didn’t we have the big Spotify royalties argument years ago? Is this still a thing?”

But the interesting thing is not the subject of the debate but the scale of the backlash. It seems as though everyone is coming down on one side or the other, arguing about the pros and cons of streaming, throwing dubiously interpreted figures at one another, long term statistics versus short term, predicted growth etc etc… Suddenly everyone seems rather impassioned.

But what’s the real story here? I don’t think it’s about artists getting an unfair cut of song revenue (how could that be a story? It’s the way the music industry has been run ever since it began – hardly a scoop). It is also not about Spotify’s opaque finances, or about major labels being influential shareholders in what began as a seemingly hip and radical new company. Nor is it about the man who popularised the Pay-What-You-Want model suddenly whining about not making enough money.

I wonder if the story is Fear. The fear that we put our faith in something that might turn out to disappoint us, that a promised long-sought harmony between art and industry may have been botched again. Or even worse, that we may have actually managed to encourage a situation in which the pay-per-play model (previously viewed as a sort of would-be-saviour for the modern music market) somehow only benefits the likes of Universal. Has the clever little pig who built his house out of bricks discovered he’s locked the wolf in with him?

But the Big Bad Wolf in this instance is not the major labels or Spotify. It is our continued and unfounded expectation that one single model, one easy to swallow pill, could simplify a business that has over the last fifteen years become very very complicated indeed.

Whether or not the Spotify allegations are true is immaterial (plenty of artists try to spark controversial or topical debates when they’ve got a new album to plug – ever noticed Morrisey’s racist outbursts tend to be synchronised with his touring schedule?). Here the argument itself is the issue. It is indicative of a wholly anachronistic (but deeply entrenched) way of thinking, one that is rife among artists and management alike – put basically: there is currently a problem and one day there will be a solution and things will finally go back to being the way they were.

Yes, I agree with Yorke and Godrich that Spotify fills the coffers of shareholders rather than artists and I lament the company’s perceived shift from great leveller to great dictator. But what saddens me most isn’t the thought of a company being more interested in increasing its profits than helping poets, it’s that so few of us can resist this foolish quest for the Philosopher’s Stone. Why do we insist on ramming 20th Century pegs into 21st Century holes? Do we really think the future is going to be one size fits all?

The internet put an end to the idea that progress must always be a linear narrative. Rather than “This begat That” we now face a formidable tangle of options hissing at us like so many heads of the Hydra. And yet we still cherish a Buck Rogers view of the future where new things are the same as old things but a bit shinier. This is no longer a simple tale of ever-renewing formats, recited like some kind of technological nursery rhyme: sheet music was replaced by 78s that were replaced by 45s that were replaced by CDs that were replaced by mp3s that were replaced by streams that were replaced by sonic enemas that were replaced by spinal jukeboxes that were replaced by brain radios… NO.

So aside from the wails of “Not fair! Not fair!” and the “how do we make the new Dark Dide Of The Moon with just a 0.4p royalty” argument, what are the actual facts? What can we, the starving-artist DIY sector put our faith in? If a company’s finances are a mystery and the major labels are making shady deals and the future looks bleakly uncertain then trust something real – the audience.

I know I go on about this a lot but, really, Talk To Them. Don’t just trust some article in Music Week that says “everyone’s on Spotify these days…” ask your audience what services they use and what they want from you. Then work out a strategy from there. You know where to find these people, they’re not hidden like Spotify’s account books, they’re the ones who make that reassuring clapping sound when you finish playing a song (and if there’s no one doing that yet then it’s a bit premature to be worrying about Spotify royalties). Why have the streaming argument with faceless trolls in the comment section of the online Guardian when you can have it with the people who are already part of your work? You think Spotify is a good discovery platform for new artists? Well it’s nothing compared to actual humans talking to each other. I was chatting to an audience member after a gig recently and asked her how she’d discovered us and she told me a policeman had recommended one of our songs while she was waiting to make a statement – stick that in your algorithm and smoke it!

Sure you can withdraw your music from these services (my friend Steve Lawson did that in 2011 and outlined his reasons with charm and eloquence on his website) but whatever distribution tools you favour remember the most important thing is to engage with the listener rather than the platform. If anything is the future, it’s that. The modern music industries are built on networks. Networks are built on relationships. Don’t just wait for a fresh format and then moan when the new boss turns out to be the same as the old boss… you’re an artist, be creative.

Maybe the music business as we know it simply isn’t going to be saved. Maybe it’ll just continue to scrabble around in a purgatory of Kickstarter myths, desperate hat-passing and grim talent competitions. Maybe Spotify is just another way of making fat cats fatter. Well, it’s not like musicians aren’t used to that.

Yes, we opened Pandora’s Box. Yes, out flew all manner of catastrophes. Perhaps it was preventable. Perhaps there was another direction we could have taken. Perhaps we narrowly missed a new Eden. Unfortunately we all know that once these problems are out, they don’t go back in.

But we also know what the last thing to emerge from Pandora’s Box was…

Hope.

New Article: “The Audience Invisible”

10 Monday Jun 2013

Posted by louisbarabbas in Articles, Keyhole Observations

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Tags

audience, career, facebook, fanbase, industry, inspiral carpets, music, social media, tom hingley, twitter

I’ve been reading quite a few musicians’ memoirs recently. Music documentaries too. I’m not fussy about the genres or eras, I enjoyed the one about Ace Of Spades just as much as the doc about Trad Jazz in the 50s. Band politics tend to be the same regardless of fashion.

I’m not sure where this new, almost academic bent has emerged from. One could argue that a musician spending his downtime pouring over the in-fighting of past masters is distinctly unhealthy. But I say: forewarned is forearmed. Most bands suffer grizzly endings full of regrets and loose ends. I don’t want the band I’m in to go the same way and yet I am aware that it’s a distinct possibility. Essentially a band is a confusing hybrid of gang and marriage – the potential for disagreement and calamity is near limitless. Still, I have hope.

Morbidity aside, read any rock autobiography from the last century and you will find one single unifying factor, one simple point that unites these various partisan reminiscences. One great omission. One conspicuous absence.

The audience.

Memories are crystal clear when it comes to itemizing the drug cocktails and tour bus breakdowns, famous cross-overs and favoured studio tech-specs, but no one ever seems to have a clue who is actually buying the records. “This one sold half a million units but this one only sold two hundred thousand and now the label is getting fidgety…”

Who makes up these great hoards (or herds)? What is this faceless consumer hive? Dear Narrator, why are you not curious?

CONTINUE READING…

Primavera Story

29 Wednesday May 2013

Posted by louisbarabbas in Articles, Keyhole Observations, Pundit, Un-Convention, Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

barcelona, buzzcocks, industry, martin atkins, music, pete shelley, primavera, punk, spain, un-convention

One of the things I find amusing about music conferences is just how many “industry people” loathe being subjected to music. Lured in by a free bar they flinch at the strains of some poor band soundtracking the scrum of label execs squirming over the buffet like piglets at the teet.

But I suppose it is with good reason. These days everyone receives such an endless avalanche of artist spam that the sound of a guitar tuning up is enough to have us diving for cover, so terrified are we of appearing encouraging, that we may inadvertently add to our already bursting spam folder. The majority of us are in no position to deal out music careers anyway. Advice? Sure. A favour? Perhaps. A big break? I don’t even know what that is, I’m just here for the vol-au-vents.

I spent last week at Primavera Sound in Barcelona. It was my first time. I was scheduled to speak at Primavera Pro on the subject of independent touring (particularly along the usual theme of sustainability) but I ended up being drafted in to fill vacancies on the “Politics & Music: An Uneasy Alliance” and “How To Build A Dream Festival” panels as well (which really cut into the time I’d specifically set aside to eat miniature quiches and ignore bands).

I had a great time – met some fascinating people and watched a bunch of amazing world-class acts. It’s a wonderful festival. So different from its UK counterparts. The sunshine and surroundings mean that all the pundits and posers are a lot more relaxed, there doesn’t seem to be as much to prove, the hierarchies aren’t as pronounced. It’s as though everyone is on holiday together. I had fun. We all had fun. And the really interesting thing is that we all seemed to be surprised that we were having fun.

One day stands out in particular.

It was the first day of the conference. I’d already been in town for twenty four hours and met a lot of characters (some quietly interesting, others relentlessly irritating – the lines would come to blur beautifully as the week progressed). The group I was knocking about with consisted of Malcolm Haynes from Glastonbury Festival, Mark Jones from Wall Of Sound, Pete Shelley from The Buzzcocks, Felipe Altenfelder from Fora do Eixo, Steve Knightely from Show Of Hands and my colleagues at Un-Convention. Martin Atkins (author and ex-drummer of PiL, Nine Inch Nails and Killing Joke) would later join our gang. I know I know, the whole thing sounds like an Enid Blyton book but with added mojitos.

Louis and Pete

I’d been busy wearing my serious face all day. No mean feat. Sipping mineral water between John McClure and Pete Shelley on a stage in front of an international audience discussing political songwriting whilst watching the translators’ exasperated expressions in response to the onslaught of accents, slang and questionable annunciation is a surreal experience to say the least. By the end of the afternoon it was time to take off our pundit hats and let down what hair we have left.

Un-Convention had organized a semi-secret gig at a gloriously dingy basement club called Sidecar. Carl Barât from The Libertines was supposed to be playing but called in sick so I got asked to fill in at the last minute. The audience (made up of a mixture of locals and conference tourists) were a lot of fun and didn’t seem to mind that a balding moustachioed dog-enthusiast had replaced the messiah-shaped wan heroin chic of Barât.

My set, however, was but an aperitif. The main event was Shelley and Atkins. These two men are absolute legends. Punk pioneers. Influential is too impoverished a word for them. With only one rushed rehearsal (more of a musical handshake) they formed a power duo that put all the young pretenders to shame. I’m not much of a mosher, or one for stage invasions, but their performance made me do both.

petemartin

Beyond the visceral pleasure of such a sonic onslaught there were three things that gave me particular joy. The first was seeing Pete Shelley play Buzzcocks songs in a small venue. I’ve seen plenty of the original punk bands playing the nostalgia circuit (main stages at mid-size festivals etc) but to dance along to “Ever Fallen In Love” in a dimly lit cavern-like venue with a sticky floor and an ever-so-subtle suggestion of faeces wafting over from the toilets was pretty special, almost how I imagine it was the first time round (Pete can still muster a pretty convincing sneer!). The second joy was the transformation that took place in all of us. A few hours earlier we’d been wearing translation earpieces and waffling on about grim things like brand awareness – now we were jumping up and down, dripping with sweat (not just our own), being the people that, for much of the time, we keep hidden deep within. It’s not that one persona is more real than another but, damn, one of them is certainly more fun. The third joy was seeing Martin Atkins rocking out on the drums and then turning into a complete fan-boy afterwards. Previously I’d only known him as a sort of professional cynic, a sage fool almost, urging artists to empty their heads of all that spurious rock and roll mythology: “Welcome to the music industry… You’re F**ked!” he’d shout. But now he was mooning over his newly acquired Pete Shelley plectrum and gleefully pocketing his signed setlist before sitting up all night editing together the grainy gig footage on his laptop in a hotel full of scowling celebrities. See, we’re all in the same big chain of people who derive an incalculable jouissance from music – doesn’t matter how respectable we become.

Nothing at Primavera topped that night for me. It was just so wonderful to enjoy music without measuring it. Must do it again some time.

primavera1

New Article: “Busker On The High Seas”

08 Wednesday May 2013

Posted by louisbarabbas in Articles, Keyhole Observations

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Tags

busking, industry, manchester, music, octopus, piracy

BuskersI just read another article about how music piracy hurts artists.

Well, I read enough of it to make me roll my eyes before searching for something more relevant to look at.

I mean, seriously?
Are we still talking about this stuff? About clamping even sturdier chastity belts onto our art so no one can compromise/exploit/devalue it? I thought all the pirates had lost interest in music now that the idea of owning it has become so passé. Why bother with torrent sites when everything is available to stream? If you’re going to battle anyone then battle the people who fixed the royalty rates so low. The pirates are now moored elsewhere (the illegal ones anyway).

But then, in the creative sector at least, no one is on the same page. We aren’t even all reading from the same book. We all just move at our own individual pace towards the corners of the industry that shelter our preferred line of bogeymen. The internet has put an end to the shared linear narrative (and with it any credible universal nemesis); where there was once a single path there is now a spaghetti junction of possibilities. The music business (to paraphrase an old saying) has become an octopus whose outermost left tentacle doesn’t know what the seven tentacles to the right of it are doing.

CONTINUE READING…

A Weekend With Hope & Social

06 Monday May 2013

Posted by louisbarabbas in Bedlam Six, Collaborations, Gigs, Pictures

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

bedlam six, hope and social, leeds, manchester, music

I am a suspicious man.
I am suspicious of all sorts of things. Of optimism, of uniforms, of high spirits, of symmetry. If you say the words “music”, “matching outfits” and “audience participation” in the same sentence I’m either going to imagine Butlins or a cult.

But I love Hope & Social. And all my suspicious, cynical, grumpy colleagues in The Bedlam Six are, for once, in complete agreement.

The two bands played a brace of shows together last weekend, with us supporting H&S in Leeds and them supporting us in Manchester. Each event culminating in a moment where we’d all squeeze onto the stage together and play as one supergroup. It was a lot of fun.

We are as similar as we are different. On the one hand we share a lot of attributes: both independent, both largely self-sufficient, both in favour of a certain transparency of operation, of direct interaction with the audience etc. Most importantly, we all like to have a good time doing what we do.

But on the other hand we are thematically very much at odds. The songs Hope & Social write tend to have messages like “it’ll all be ok in the end” whereas I am generally of the opinion that things will get bad before they get worse. Indeed, we joked backstage that the two bands being in the same space at the same time was a bit like that episode of Red Dwarf where the crew encounter their evil and grotesque alter-egos (I’ll let you decide which band member corresponds to which character).

I guess another way of looking at it is to say opposites attract.

Now, there are two courses of action open to anyone sharing the bill with an amazing, accomplished and crowd-friendly band. You can try to outplay them – wage war and see who the audience likes best, make people take sides, maybe try to recreate that ridiculous Blur and Oasis spat from the mid-90s. Then at the end of the night you have one winner and one loser. And nothing changes. No one gets better, the world just keeps turning on its inevitable and insufferable axis.

Or you can enjoy it. Enjoy the company of like-minded souls who believe in putting on a show, who don’t mind looking silly, who are happy to admit their geekiness over the equipment they use or the orchestrations they dream up. And relish that rare occasion: the perfect event – playing with a band you can quite happily watch for an entire set without unpicking the component parts of what they do; being reminded of why you started playing music in the first place. Because we’ve all done this for a long time, we all have extraordinarily powerful bullshit filters in place. Between us we must have played every dive and dump in Britain, with every kind of joker promoter and chancer performer. We’ve got the best part of two hundred years combined gigging experience of just how cheap this country can make a musician feel. And we all still love what we do in spite of it.

I adored these two shows. I loved being a member of the crowd and putting my cynicism on hold for an evening. I loved bypassing the crippling slump in spirits I usually get before going onstage. I loved playing the barely rehearsed covers and looking around my various co-performers to see if anyone had a clue what was going on and witnessing a bunch of people giving themselves up to the enjoyment of jamming.

I just wish the nights could have gone on a bit longer!

Bedlam Social Club

21 Sunday Apr 2013

Posted by louisbarabbas in Bedlam Six, Collaborations, Gigs, Video

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

bedlam six, hope and social, live, music, video

Last year a few members of The Bedlam Six and I got together with Leeds band Hope & Social as part of the latter’s Crypt Covers series. The two bands arranged and recorded a version of Simon & Garfunkel’s “Keep The Customer Satisfied” over the course of ten coffee-fuelled hours.

We had such a good time that we resolved to get together and play the thing live at a brace of double-headline shows in our respective home towns of Manchester and Leeds (entitled “The Bedlam Social Club” – naturally!) in which the two bands will play a set of their own material and then come together at the end to play some covers suggested by the audience.

If you have any suggestions about what we should play together please write to me via the Contact Section of this website.

Details for the event Hope & Social are hosting at Brudenell Social Club in Leeds on Friday 3rd May can be found here: http://www.brudenellsocialclub.co.uk/Event/Details/889
Details for the event we are hosting at The Deaf Institute in Manchester on Saturday 4th May can be found here: http://www.heymanchester.com/bedlam-six-hope-social

On Tour

02 Tuesday Apr 2013

Posted by louisbarabbas in Bedlam Six, Gigs, Video

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

bedlam six, diary, european, gigs, montage, music, tour

The Bedlam Six tour is now entering its continental chapter. The UK gigs have been a real joy, wonderful enthusiastic audiences and welcoming venues.

I’ll be keeping a journal of our progress abroad over on the band blog. I’ve archived our tour diaries from 2011 and 2012 over here if you fancy any light reading.

Here’s a video montage from last year’s jaunt with Kirsty Almeida…

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