Sunday Morning Coming Down

I’ve mentioned many times on these pages how, somewhere along the line as I moved flats over the years, a great big chunk of my vinyl went missing. The problem is that since I didn’t have a turntable that worked until recently, I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly when it all went.

The other problem is that often I won’t realise that something has gone until I go to play it, and such is the case with today’s tune.

It features on an album which I bought back when I was at Sixth Form, which I know I would never have sold or given away, but still, when the other day I decided to listen to my vinyl copy of Martin Stephenson & The Daintees’ Boat to Bolivia album, there it was: gone.

It’s been added to the seemingly ever-growing list which now includes: all of the albums I had on vinyl by The Wedding Present, R.E.M., Blondie, Billy Bragg, The Housemartins and – and these are the ones that hurt the most – my entire collection of The Smiths’ albums, all original Rough Trade pressings.

Luckily, I also bought this one on 7″ single back in the day, and it remains in my little black box of singles to this day. And it’s a corker, a cautionary – and true, apparently  – tale of a man who tries to rob a garage with a toy gun.

This is not so much a Country record, it’s more of a glorious North East of England hillbilly stomp. It’s bloody great:

Martin Stephenson & The Daintees – Running Water

More soon.

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No More Sleepless Nights

For the past few nights, I’ve found it very difficult to sleep because of the heat.

At around 4am this morning, having just nodded of after being kept awake by what sounded like a fox terrorising the occupants of a nearby bird’s nest, I was awoken by an entirely different sound. I lay in bed listening to the storm outside, and found myself counting the time between each clap of thunder and flash of lightning.

And just as it always does when I find myself in a storm, this song came to mind:

Martin Stephenson & The Daintees – Rain

Finally, the “I like it warm, but not this warm” conversations will end, doubtless to be replaced by conversations about how “that should clear the air” and how “that was just what the gardens needed”.

And tonight, hopefully, I will sleep.

More soon.