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STEVE HILLAGE

"This live is extracting the most magic, the more organic, a syrup of the soul that is a real break from the space-time. "

Steve Hillage: Live Herald »1979

Tonight I'm not afraid. It floats in the air like a wind saving urban, fresh beneficent. Tonight Steve Hillage played in the city. At the time of punk, Hillage is but a vulgar nerdy hippie. After all, is not it the top-bab guitarist Franco-British Gong?
This musical collective was known for some very good progressive cosmo-delusions, and above all their keys lit notorious. Ah! We remember the leader Daevid Allen's companion, Gilly Smith, whose role was for music lovers to massacre the theatrics of Hillage and Didier Malherbe its cosmic shrill ravings?
Is this what drove Hillage to embark on a solo career? The fact is that man released his first album in 1974, that is to say (for the time) one hundred years too late with respect to the heyday of progressive rock. For in 1974, is a glam-rock.
But man is malicious, and his talent will create a music at once progressive, but totally innovative. A bit like a Robert Fripp in King Crimson reactivated his early 80's. Steve Hillage indeed offers a strange mixture of jazz-rock, electronic music, and guitar mastery. Because he has talent, Steve. And his solo career finally seems to give him any latitude to his musical expression.
Thus, in full Punk era, it has stunned the world two wonderful discs: "Motivation Radio", and "Green". Confuse these two jewels. Yes, it's progressive, vaguely hippie, but very melodic and developed. In a word? Magical. Steve Hillage
created at that time a sort of bubble power beyond the time that seemed to reconcile all: rock, nostalgic for the school of Canterbury, and then these young punks who thought it was pretty good, and secretly loved Hawkwind.
Both discs are in any case the opportunity to secure two long European tour. Hillage recorded on this occasion several concerts, which will allow the release of a live than here.
More than any other, it is a staggering emotional adventure. Play this disc is plunging into a deep end of synthesizers as crystalline water percolation, supported and challenged by this guitar both luminous and dreamlike. The horizon was filled
then big old trees, flowers and colorful birds. Beautiful wild animals seem to us to reach out, and the air is breathable.
Who else but Steve Hillage can start a concert with a song called "Salmon Song" (Song of the salmon) in 1978? Atypical for light years (apparently) human contingencies, unfolds as a kind of theater where musical acts are interlaced with guitars and synths.
We often find that the albums filled with vintage synthesizers are often at the limit of listenable. What impresses here is the modern use. Air, liquid, fresh, both haunting and discreet, they weigh down the music in any way. It must be very good at Basil Brooks and Miquette Giraudy, wife of Steve, the musician and former Gong "Shamal" in 1975.
The pace is somewhat removed the light guitar, dreamy. Hillage plunges into several influences, a sort of mixture between Progressive Rock, Folk, World Music and Jazz. But here is something totally ahead of its time, as if some tones that had hatched very recently.
What I love about this man is the poetry, the depth of his music. Always thoughtful, as the listener wanting to eradicate a certain reality to plunge it into a more ambitious, less mundane, the incentive to marvel at the beauty of things rather than delve into the sordid reality.

Thus, even this beautiful resume "Hurdy Gurdy Man" Donovan has totally his mark despite the familiar tune. "Light In The Sky" is intended more Jazz-Rock and Heavy. A complete success for those who love high-flying guitar.
"Searching For The Spark" Arabists footprint trails through the desert and the medina, a beautiful and delicate path of melancholy.
But the big mountains are the consequences of this CD reissue (the original version included a studio deal now included on the reissue of "L"). "Radiom / Lunar Music Suite / Meditation Of The Dragon" is a dive magical world of Steve Hillage more than fifteen minutes laterna environments Jazz and world always illuminated the ghostly guitar. The grand finale is the definitive 'Solar Musick Suite "Twilight at will, as pale as the sun is visible in the distance on the moor Ardèche. The sun glowing off slowly on the horizon, the brain is lost in thought gently melancholy final point on what is probably more important in life. As this brunette beauty haunting and mysterious as you can see the bend in the road, and you smiled furtively filling your heart with joy and sweetness out of proportion.

Steve Hillage's music is all that and beyond. She finally did so final that will take no action. Immersing himself in the production of artists in the world and electronic music, he plunges into the shadow of others, leaving behind some very beautiful album, definitely timeless. This live is extracting the most magical, the more organic, a syrup of the soul that is a real break from the space-time.
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J12, 1st Division: First away win for USSP

St. Girons II 1-4 USSP

Scorers: Queiroz J, Escure B, Delrieu F, Y Costeseque

Treader: Delrieu B Vézinet J, B Escure

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Alternates: Costeseque Y Bincoletto D, P Brytch

Victorian Drivers Licence

J12 Promotion 1st division: Domination labarroise.

ASF Labarre 4-0 USSP II

Warnings: Lopes A., Tarte J.

Eviction Tartit D.

Alternates: Monie B., Miles P., Soula J.

Pleurisy: What Not To Do

REVIEW OF MATCHES GO

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Watch Hatchet Vs Gentials

STRAY 1983

"And the road runs through the glass."

STRAY " Live At The Marquee "1983

I'm alone with my computer in a small hotel room without a soul. I happen to be traveling for my job, and tirelessly I find myself in these hotels or cozy, or gays, fair practices in the peripheries of large cities. My small window, I see during construction companies, warehouses, factory chimneys smoking, and large buildings sad. Sometimes a channel or a river runs through this human nothingness, bringing its wet and cold breath a semblance of nature, both comforting and frightening.
I sometimes, taking the highway to go to my temporary workplace, navigate to new landscapes known. These are the ones of my childhood holidays, or at least those that led to my vacation. A highway has always marked, it is the A7. This way, past Lyon, mixes country, mountain, River, industrial landscapes, and small houses nestled in the hills. It emerges from all this a great sadness to me. Because basically, although it is in what we can already call the South and we can distinguish the remains of a glorious past, rich, mixed with industrial ruins symbol of inexorable decline of a region whose activity is now focused on large cities that are nearby Lyon, Grenoble and Marseille.
I always that same feeling when I cross this corner of France. At nightfall, the sun glowing in the distance. The dashboard of my car lit a burning orange, the tachometer and speedometer revved. A train on the tracks parallel to me twice. The light illuminates the horizon its cars as yellow rectangles. These are the faces of executives lost in the daily and fatigue. As a young blond woman, so pretty. It's time for a soundtrack ideal, that of the road.
a child in the car with my parents, I sang what I thought was the Rock. Following prolonged listening to tapes of my sister, Bruce Springsteen, Dire Straits, Phone, or police, I invent a perfect soundtrack to these images that passed before my eyes. I had
dynamic music, galloping. Guitar chords had to be both peevish and melancholy. The voice should be heroic and desperate, as the lonely man who did more than the road as a lifeline. He looked a little warmth, the smile of a woman who finds herself alone with him in this world of concrete.

If sometimes, an agreement, a solo, a bridge of the famous song tapes seemed to be the time that a few tens of seconds the outline of what I had in mind, no album is as much as told me that above.
And it is the result of a long quest. Fan and transition absolute group Stray, I tried this live long, reissued on cd many years ago, and totally unavailable for sale since. Its price at some sites selling online is totally prohibitive, and destroys any passion for music. Moreover, it is interesting to note how the money often destroys all pleasure, as simple as it is. My research led me to still an offer to sell at a surprisingly low price which the seller assured me that seemed entirely unaware of his article. Whatever.
Stray is an English quartet formed in 1967 by guitarist Del Bromham, bass player Gary Giles, Steve Gadd and singer in London. A drummer named Ritchie Cole joined the merry band. Then aged 16, the four school friends is made by hand on John Mayall, Cream and Jimi Hendrix. The first album appeared in 1970 and is entering a masterpiece, like all disks Stray elsewhere.
Their music is quite indescribable an alloy of Hard-Rock, Blues, and Progressive Rock. Played with a subtlety and instrumental talent bluffing, it releases energy and rage incredible. It is the sound of sweat and anger. It is this burning coal that powers the fastest locomotives.
The group throws in the towel yet in 1977 (in the meantime, Steve Gadd was replaced by Peter Dyers in 1975) after what is arguably their best album, including "Hearts Of Fire". Having secured the first parts of the most prestigious Kiss Rush, have scoured the UK in length and breadth, the group decided to take a management type energetic Peter Grant. They end up with an old killer, Charles Cray, albeit a very rigorous discipline level, but totally out of the race side music. The same story will be feasted upon in some English newspapers, in spite of Stray. Adding to this the wave punk who declared war on the Hard-Rock and groups of the early 70s, and you get the scheduled end of training, however, exceptional. Unable to get any gigs, no real commercial success, the four boys separate. Yet barely 26 years old, they are already old farts.
Del Bromham, guitarist and principal composer, formed his own trio. But despite all his talent, he remains anonymous. It is a time tipped to replace Brian Robertson of Thin Lizzy in 1978, but Phil Lynott J. composer too good to fit into such a group which is obviously the leader.
A flash of hope torn Soon the horizon when the dying man mutates into Punk New Wave, and the Heavy-Metal took control of the English charts in 1980 as the New Wave Of British Heavy-Metal (NWOBHM). Reformed in 1981 as Stray-Bromham-Dyer-Giles Cole hits the road. But again his Rock too elaborate, too subtle, do not move. It is even more matter of age as Thin Lizzy, Judas Priest and Budgie found new impetus in the middle of Iron Maiden, Saxon, Def Leppard, Diamond Head, Praying Mantis, or Angelwitch.

This leaves it live. Recorded at the Marquee in London in 1983, it could have been disappointing. Really. Because numbers of bands of the 70s have persevered in the 80s and have sunk into the stew. Battery rotten with reverb, the guitar metal, the bass slapper, funky vocals can. Even the Rolling Stones and Deep Purple have fallen into such crap.
In 1983, Stray is undoubtedly the last great British rock group with Motorhead. The sound has not changed. Crude, rough. Blues. The real difference is even this minimal production, that of a certain Gordon Rowley. He caught the very substance of what this exceptional group Stray. Each instrument, brilliant, is highlighted, without effect. The audience is there, dull grotesque. How many live discs have fallen into ridicule by the public stadium roaring typed while saying U.S. training does not meet any U.S. theater.
realist, "Live At The Marquee" transcribed reality: a band playing his music to the delight of his audience. So no matter how small. More than anything, this disc is an almost perfect summary of the best tracks on Stray. The opening in the rough "Houdini" is a daydream. This piece, mixing heavy riffs and choruses from California with a detour through the West End almost perfect, opens the musical horizons of the public wonder. The result is another that the best way of Stray, namely 'One Night In Texas ". This epic track, constantly maintaining the emotional strain, with its text sip of roads and girls, all described with a rare subtlety, is a peak of electric music.
"After The Storm" is another summit. Symbol of Blues-Rock both Heavy and Progressive, it is an endless pool of brilliant riffs, solos and majestic. Cathedral guitar unique, she masterfully transcribed the incredible energy that can be felt after a storm, whatever its nature. These arpeggios, these accelerations, these delays making heavy opaque horizon. This triumvirate of rock'n'roll pantheon is already dark. That of the road. It needs to add "All In Your Mind" wild, unbridled, flawless. Paced, mixing psychedelia and speed, it is undoubtedly the ultimate version of the flagship title of Heavy Rock Underground 70s. Whatever replays pell-mell Iron Maiden or Queens Of The Stone Age.
Del Bromham is on top of his art, inventive percussion. Backed by a rhythm section, Gary Giles and Ritchie Cole, who has probably never played as well, he sent his music in the stars, making it completely out of fashion, timeless.
Everything is set in a setting of exceptional humor and poetry: the wallet, with his mustachioed cowboy on horseback, proud, on a cow.

And the road runs through the glass. Another train passes traffic, indifferent, sure of his power. Scots pines, the tiles. Old wrecks Berliet in vacant lots, barges dying on the Rhone, symbols of another time. And as a stray. Stray Dog. And the road running.
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Bump After Heart Cath

STEAMHAMMER

"But there .... These men had they seen anything?" A bad omen? "

Steamhammer" Speech "1972

There are a few records of amateur life inconvenient. Vicious, obsessive, they do not fit into any real category, and often some kind of UFO in the discographies of groups or artists.
I think of "Ceremony" by Spooky Tooth with Pierre Henry, or "The End Of The Game" by Peter Green. Specify all the same except that the latter city, all the musicians were apparently all he headed at the time of recording of the disc, which was not really the case with Peter Green.
In all cases, these albums are the mysterious reflection of a plunge into the abyss of soul musicians. Because of the chosen structures, complex, and moods, often oppressive, distressing, we feel that the authors have gone musically and spiritually where few have dared to go.
Steamhammer is a British band whose core is formed by Martin Pugh on guitar and Kieran White on vocals and guitar. Drummer and bassist change with every album or so. Steamhammer music is first, and quite logically, mostly rooted in the British Blues Boom, but very late, since we are already in 1969, and Led Zeppelin just uncheck its first salvos, putting it on the ground rest of the movement shortly after the tornado Cream. Nevertheless, a song from the first disk will not go unnoticed, since the set-list includes an English quartet who just get down to boogie: Status Quo. The song in question is none other than Junior's Wailing ".
The group's music will move quickly to a heavy blues-progressive particularly brilliant, as confirmed in the second disc, "MK II" in 1969. The warm voice of White, combined with thick chorus burning Pugh finds its perfect synthesis. The prodigious drummer Mick Bradley just happened is not for nothing, and breathed a rhythm both heavy and jazz. He finds his alter-ego in the four-string in the person of Steve Davy, and the pinnacle of the quartet is "Mountains" in 1970. Wonderful monument to the glory of a heavy-blues both dreamy and strange, esoteric sort of alloy of blues-folk of Pentangle and English heavy metal and gothic black first Black Sabbath, it is a masterpiece absolute. A strange mystery
flat run if this latest record called "Speech" in 1972. The group broke up. Tensions have arisen, the fault in different musical directions, and also because of the commercial failure of this great music yet. That leaves
Pugh and Bradley alone. They join the exceptional talent of a talented bass player, a certain Louis Cennamo. The man arrived in 1971 to replace Davy, and turned over some time with the group in Germany. The singer Garth Watt-Roy, former singer of Fuzzy Duck, completes the line-up time of recording the disc.
What exactly happened during those 18 months between "Mountains" and "Speech"? Hard to say, but it is something terrifying. Because this album is even darker, darker, more impenetrable, more terrifying than the first Black Sabbath or "End Of The Game" by Peter Green, however, a yardstick for emotional nightmare. We knew that the lads from Black Sabbath had a hard life in their infancy, from the dark Birmingham, Iommi lost his fingers in a hydraulic press (Steam Hammer one, named the ram who cut the thick pieces of metal smelters?) , the first concerts in amphetamines in order to survive in the van in the snow. And then Green, his bad LSD trip in Munich in 1969, and his mental wreck until he left Fleetwood Mac in May 1970.
But there .... These men had they seen anything? A bad omen? Undoubtedly, since February 8, 1972 during the mixing of the album, Mick Bradley, drummer, dies of leukemia at age 25 crushing, annihilating Steamhammer fact. There will therefore, like all those disks sick, no tour could extract even more the epitome of emotional content. As if everything had been said in the studio and beyond, a boundary cursed was actually completed. The Styx sum.

yet I must tell you that this album is for me an absolute and total dive into the depths of my soul. It will be the same for the listener who will listen to, and above all, to ignore any pre-determined musical design. It is obvious that the hearing be held the rock music of the 70s will more easily find the path in these wonderful sonic limbo. Because this album has little parallel in the history of pop music, even at Pink Floyd in the period 1968-1972, yet extremely adventurous. It might even catalyzes all your fantasies most shameful, your darkest nightmares. In short, a catharsis.

Divided into three long tracks, each of them is itself divided into chapters representing each theme song. The first is "Penumbra." Started an album by the same theme speaks volumes about the mindset of musicians. A riff similar to a cello squeaks on your ears, playing a scary theme, at least as gratifying as drinking tea in the medieval ruins an evening of full moon. You feel on your shoulders the icy blast of restless souls wandering in these places. Incantatory, haunting, dice these initial agreements, you plunge into an abyss of terror. When the power comes first theme, the sound is no longer Steamhammer Blues, but an incredible heavy metal chrome, with a boldness and elegance crazy. This first topic will also be recycled to "Buzzard", the first title of the only album of Armageddon in 1975, another classic from a group consisting Cennamo, Pugh, Keith Relf of the Yardbirds and Bobby Caldwell, Johnny Winter and Captain Beyond .
dexterity of the three musicians is startling. Fine, elegant, confident of their strength, they twist your brain gradually, before the roaring bass Cennamo off of your stops. Watt-Roy sings black esoteric texts, music is incantatory, haunting, cold. Then the song in a hand off between jazz-rock and psychedelia that Martin Pugh's guitar works wonders. It is a crossing on the moor, a full moon. Small bushes rustle in the wind shaved, and your not just crack the stones of the little road that seems to lead you nowhere. The sea wind blows harder and harder, and between two clouds, you see the moon in the foam covering the steep rocks of the coast. You do not know exactly why you're here. You are torn between anxiety this walk alone at night, and that indescribable feeling of freedom, as if nothing else than the elements does weigh on you. These moments when
Pugh Egraine its chorus is magical. There are those few minutes on what we can bring out more wonderful with a guitar. The pinnacle is the final solos between guitar and bass, which are gradually dying subject in a constellation of white stars. The bass roars back on the distortion, and Watt-Roy roars too. "Do not Know Why ..." as a leitmotif. The guitar is matched by, as a dialogue between Lucifer and the archangel of the Good. Both deep and rumbling, and saturated and fuzzée, Exchange seems interminable, as if the battle had only begun. Once again, Pugh proved masterful. Supported brilliantly by Cennamo, it shows the talent of immeasurable magical duo. Louis demonstrated his mastery in the four-string, overriding theme in the final sustain low rumble of leaving the listener drained.
Time to flip the disc vinyl, you hit "Telegram." Frightening call for help, it is a synthesis of sick yet undeniable talent and disgusting Steamhammer.
The riff and rhythm seem to imitate a sort of crazy machine spouting incomprehensible messages of common mortals. Martin Pugh's guitar is disturbing, snapping a riff both angry and almost dissonant. Cennamo's bass is a cons-point that supports this rumbling melody agonizing over which Watt-Roy sings in a voice strangely calm a text haunted by madness. Obsessive
to the core, this title is an absolute success when some minerals are broken arpeggios anxiety. But this is an illusion. The machine is repackaging and under presques Gregorian choirs, choruses Pugh uncheck swallowed up by this mystical song. Arpeggios plunge soon, supported by a low muffled in a melody still medieval, supported by a battery-martial.
The final section offers a granite off the final explosion which is simply a wonderful solo by Martin Pugh on the original riff. The lyrical masterpiece is back, and these three are again touched by grace, leaving Steamhammer imagine what might have become without the tragic end of his drummer.
"For Against" the third part of triptych, begins with arpeggiated bass, before the fuzz guitar drenched crashed on our ears imprudent. Strange as it may sound, the battery gets carried away in an exotic rhythm, finally close enough to the theme of "Penumbra." Uncheck the guitar riff backed by bold bass, both electric blues and terribly like thunder. Little jam between friends gives way to a long drum solo by Mick Bradley. Finally, nothing very exciting I hear you say, the drum solos are a rock pushing hard for very many of the 70's. Except that here, the boy who plays die a few months later, and a kind of morbid dance moves when you listen to this solo. It is certainly not the best batsmen, but his style, very personal, and imagination, make the exercise quite listenable, and a priori the perfect end to this disc terrifying, unique.

There will not be much of that. Bradley's death will stop short any hope of tour. Pugh and Cennamo will play a tribute concert with other groups of heavy-progressive rock as Atomic Rooster, Beggars Opera or Yew March 25, 1972 at the Marquee in London. John Lingwood will be hired on drums and Ian Ellis on vocals. The quartet will Axis, and turn a few months before breaking up. Pugh and Cennamo soon be based in 1974 the extraordinary Armageddon with Keith Relf, former singer of the Yardbirds, and Bobby Caldwell, former drummer for Johnny Winter and Captain Beyond. And on the first track from their self-titled album, "Buzzard," a riff hover heady, that of "Penumbra." As a curse. Relf died in 1976 shortly after the split of Armageddon.
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