1980 was the Moscow Olympics. In honour of this, Spizzenergi changed their name to Athletico Spizz 80.
I saw them at The Marquee at a lunchtime gig that was being filmed to promote this LP, I suppose. I would have been about 14. They were great. I still have one of the badges thrown out to the crowd.
In a funny sort of way, Jim Solar, the band's guitarist, taught me how to play a barre chord on guitar. I copied his fingering off a little instamatic photograph my sister had taken of him.
This was the band's major label make-it-big album, on A&M. It didn't really happen for them. Why the world didn't want a load of jerky, angular, stoppy-starty tunes set in Spizz's own imaginary future-world, I will never fathom.
Fast forward to 1989 or thereabouts and I'm walking into a rehearsal room in Hackney, in the middle of the afternoon, with my mate Paul to have a band practice, and there's a bloke putting up a big poster on the wall outside with a broom and a bucket of paste. It was for a Spizz comeback gig.
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Athletico Spizz 80 - Do A Runner
1980 was the Moscow Olympics. In honour of this, Spizzenergi changed their name to Athletico Spizz 80.
I saw them at The Marquee at a lunchtime gig that was being filmed to promote this LP, I suppose. I would have been about 14. They were great. I still have one of the badges thrown out to the crowd.
In a funny sort of way, Jim Solar, the band's guitarist, taught me how to play a barre chord on guitar. I copied his fingering off a little instamatic photograph my sister had taken of him.
This was the band's major label make-it-big album, on A&M. It didn't really happen for them. Why the world didn't want a load of jerky, angular, stoppy-starty tunes set in Spizz's own imaginary future-world, I will never fathom.
Fast forward to 1989 or thereabouts and I'm walking into a rehearsal room in Hackney, in the middle of the afternoon, with my mate Paul to have a band practice, and there's a bloke putting up a big poster on the wall outside with a broom and a bucket of paste. It was for a Spizz comeback gig.
"Ooh Spizz!" I say. "Yes, that's me," says the bloke. I say something like "Big fan" or whatever and go into the building. I look around and Spizz climbs into a little spaceship and flies away.
In any sensible world, a fair measure of a person would be whether they like Neil Young or not. Unfortunately, it's like we did opposites day when the wind changed direction and we got stuck in the current shitshow. Turns out T***p is a massive Neil Young fan. How am I supposed to assimilate this information? You'd think it would be like a Labrador listening to Beethoven (I nicked that simile off Stuart Lee.)
At least Neil Young thinks T***p's a cunt.
This album has Young returning to his country-folk stylings. It's supposed to be one of his favourites of his own records.
As a teenager, when ELO were having their hits, I fucking loathed them. Seemed to me that Beatles-referencing pomp-pop was only liked by people who liked pop, rather than music.
I've no idea when the change came, nor how I ended up owning more than one of their albums, but my volte-face is complete, I unreservedly retract my younger self's opinion and really think their music is wonderful, and not in some kind of ironic, guilty pleasure kind of way either.
Tinselwig
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