Flea Market and New Merchandise Update

The Yamaha guitar has been around for over 60 years and the company itself for over 100 years. In 1887, Torakusu Yamaha made his first reed organ and began taking orders to make more. In 1897, the Nippon Gakki Co. Ltd. was founded with Torakusu as president of the company.

For the next 40+ years, Yamaha’s company made organs, pianos, harmonicas, furniture, phonographs and finally their first acoustic guitar in 1942. In 1965, a year after The Beatles made their legendary Ed Sullivan Show appearance, Yamaha began production of solid body guitars. In 1966, they started to make the electric bass as well.

By the 1970’s, Yamaha started to grab the attention of major artists such as Carlos Santana and Bob Marley because of the instruments great quality and design. The Yamaha guitars were being built to produce a powerful warm tone with amazing sustain. Also, the “Broad Bass” was introduced in 1977 and quickly caught the attention of famous bass players throughout the world including Paul McCartney.

By the end of the 80’s, Yamaha opened up a factory in North Hollywood, California. Here they started making guitars where they called on some professional guitar players to help them out and advise them on what they would like to see in their guitars.

One of the reasons behind the success of the Yamaha guitar is the targets that they shoot for in their design. Every guitar must have a balanced tone and response and the bass and treble must complement each other.

A very important move for Yamaha was the introduction of the dovetail neck joint to their design in the 1970’s, which provides the best neck to body contact. The neck joint is made with timber, which helps to resonate vibrations easily from the neck to the body producing the balanced tone and response.

Yamaha also strongly believe that the blending of different kinds of quality wood is extremely important to produce a great sound. The outcome of blending these quality woods, are the highs last longer and the guitar player is able to control the note texture at all times.

Another important part of construction of the Yamaha guitars is the types of lacquer that they use. They work closely with the lacquer producers to make sure that they get the best type of lacquer that is right for their guitars. Yamaha want to make sure that their guitars both look great and have every chance to breathe.

Because of all these great design features, many artists have used and still prefer to strap on a Yamaha guitar on tour and in the recording studio. Some of the great artists that have played Yamaha guitars over the years are Michael Anthony, John Denver, John Lennon, Bob Marley, Brian May, Paul McCartney, Jimmy Page, Carlos Santana, Bob Seger, Billy Sheehan, Paul Simon, Bruce Springsteen and James Taylor.

Okay: suppose – just for argument’s sake – that the music people listen to and enjoy can and does put them into hypnosis. What are the implications of that?

Of course, I need to qualify the above right away. When I use the word “hypnosis” in this context I don’t mean the sort of passive and relaxed state which one experiences under the guidance of a hypnotherapist. What I’m referring to is simply the sort of shift in the quality of consciousness which happens when you are absorbed in the music you like – whether you’re gyrating on a dance floor, amid flashing lights and ear-splitting din, or sitting quietly mesmerised by a Chopin nocturne. I believe that any such shift of consciousness renders us more suggestible.

I also need to state the obvious. We are not puppets or computers. Whatever state of consciousness we happen to be in we do not respond immediately, fully and positively to every suggestion we encounter. And yet, in hypnoidal states of consciousness, we are more suggestible than in “normal” waking consciousness. So – to restate the opening question, if music puts us into a hypnoidal state, what are the likely consequences?

Again, to state the obvious, it depends on what sort of music you’re listening to, and why. What sort of music do people listen to today? All sorts. There is an audience for jazz, folk, classical, and so on. But – and I know this is a sweeping generalization – the majority of people, especially younger people, listen to what sells, to what is in fashion.

Surely everyone on Britain who lived through the 60s, 70s and 80s will remember Top of the Pops on television and Alan Freeman’s chart countdown show on the radio. In those days, almost everybody knew – or at least had a rough idea – which song was at Number One.

Do you know which song is at Number One at this moment? Me neither. But I thought I’d have a quick look at the Top 3 as an indication of what a substantial proportion of the population, if not the majority, are listening to at the moment. This would also give me some idea of what suggestions are being communicated by means of music.

Well – I had a rummage around online and it seems that at the time of writing – April 30th 2012 – the song at Number One is: “Call Me Maybe” by Carly Rae Jepsen. Both song and singer are unknown to me. The song, with its accompanying video, was easy to find online.

The singer is a thin but pretty young woman who looks as if she is aged about 16 or 17. Presumably she is older. The song tells a very simple story. Our heroine throws a wish into a well and, presumably as a consequence, falls in lust with someone wearing ripped jeans. The accompanying video makes it clear that this person is a young man. The lyrics say nothing about him. She gives him her phone number and asks him to call her. Original, isn’t it? The singer’s voice is, like her appearance, thin and immature, with that pale, adenoidal quality which seems to be in fashion at the moment. The melodic line is of nursery-rhyme simplicity. The accompanying music consists largely of synthetic string chords and percussion. There is nothing here that we haven’t heard a thousand times before.

Number Two in the charts is a song called “Let’s Go” by Calvin Harris. The “lyrics” of this song, if one may call them lyrics, consist of nothing more than the most banal string of clichés. Let’s go. I’m talking. It’s what you’re doing that matters. Let’s make it happen. And that’s about it. The singer is male. The voice has the same immature whining quality of the singer at the Number One slot but without the girlish charm. The melodic line, if it deserves such a title, could not possibly be more simple and shallow. The accompaniment consist of the most basic rhythms and synthesized chords. Again, there is nothing original or distinctive about this whatsoever.

At number three is a song called “We Are Young” by a group called “Fun”. The title of the song and the name of the band probably tell you all you need to know about this particular masterpiece. The song is about a trivial incident in a bar. The (male) protagonist is trying to apologize to his lover for something – the nature of his misdemeanour is not made clear. The apology doesn’t seem to be going too well. Meanwhile our hero’s friends are on the toilet getting high on something or other. Interspersed with these sordid and trivial details there is a recurring refrain which asserts that “we” can burn brighter than the sun. Musically, however, this seems to be the strongest of the three. The melodic line is considerably richer and more varied than that of the two songs above it in the charts. The chorus, with its pounding piano, its straightforward, if utterly unoriginal, harmonies and its anthemic melodic line, ensures that the piece is a little more memorable than most such ephemeral products.

Before saying any more about these three songs I would just like to say that I have no particular axe to grind when it comes to rock and pop music. I don’t regard it as the root of all evil. My interest is in classical music of all types, from Leonin through to Stockhausen. I like some Jazz and some Folk / World Music. I also like some Rock and Pop – but I don’t like all of it and I think that most of it is absurdly overrated. There are a handful of pop artists I would set alongside Schubert, Strauss and Wolf, such as Kevin Coyne, Lou Reed, Van Morrison, Bob Dylan and a number of others. But I also believe that about 95%, if not a higher percentage, of what we may loosely term “pop” music is absurdly overrated and overvalued. I predict that in 100 years time all the pop music of the last two decades will be totally forgotten – although I probably won’t be around to say “I told you so”!

I certainly wouldn’t wish to ban any music or to blame or censure anyone who takes pleasure from music which I don’t like. Pop music hasn’t been around long and it has always, at least until recently, been shrouded in controversy. The early rock ‘n rollers, even acts which now seem totally innocent, such as Cliff Richard, Elvis Presley or the early Beatles, were attacked on moral grounds. Such censure now seems ridiculous. The Rolling Stones were once regarded as a threat to society. Now Sir Mick Jagger is an establishment figure. The Sex Pistols were once taken seriously as harbingers of anarchy. How many more years will be have to wait before a knighthood is conferred upon John Lydon?

Such knee-jerk revulsion is an overreaction. And yet I do believe that prolonged exposure to music of a certain kind can have a detrimental effect, and I want to explain exactly why I think that.

The music of a song enables the lyrics of a song (and the suggestions which those lyrics embody) to penetrate our consciousness far more deeply that would be the case if we just read the lyrics or listened to them being read aloud. The reason for this is that the music has the effect of switching off our judgemental or analytical faculties. (This only happens if we like the music. If we don’t, then our critical faculties are reinforced rather than bypassed). None of this has been scientifically proven or clinically tested but, for argument’s sake, let us suppose that it is true. What sort of suggestions are the listeners to today’s pop music likely to be receiving? Let us return to the Top Three:

Call Me Maybe is not a love song. It is a song about gratification. A wish is thrown into a well and immediately the singer is given the object of her desire. We are told nothing about this other person, apart from the ripped jeans and showing skin. This is not about feeling, just about wanting. Of course, it is possible to feel an immediate attraction to a complete stranger. Usually this is accompanied by some sort of speculation, or fantasy, as to the nature of the person him or herself. But sometimes it can be purely physical, with no regard for the other person as a person, just as a body. This song, then, celebrates the most basic form of human attraction, like two dogs sniffing each other.

Let’s Go doesn’t have any narrative content. Its message seems to be: live for the moment and make it happen tonight. The words “make it” and “tonight” suggest that immediate sexual gratification is the goal but nowhere is this made explicit.

In We Are Young, a relationship seems to be going wrong, but that doesn’t matter because we’re young, we’re great, we deserve the best and everything is available to us if we just reach out and grab it.

Shallow self-gratification seems to be at the heart of each of these three best-selling songs. I would reformulate the suggestions they offer as follows:

• I deserve the best
• What I want is most important.
• You are important to me if you turn me on and give me pleasure.
• I have boundless potential.
• I am wonderful.
• I can have whatever I want.

These suggestions are a mixture of good and bad, positive and negative. Of course, high self esteem and a positive outlook are necessary for happiness and success. But when such suggestions occur in a context of narcissistic instant self-gratification then the whole thing can become distinctly toxic.

These Top Three songs may make us feel good – for a few minutes. They are the musical equivalent of fast-food, McDonalds for the ear. And we all know what an unbroken diet of burgers can do. And such songs appeal to our lowest and most childish instincts.

Can this do any harm? What effect might it have? To be honest, I don’t know. Probably any negative effects will not be too long-lasting and may be countered by more positive cultural influences. But I really fear that cultural products such as these three songs may have an infantilising effect upon the consumer. And if we look at the wider picture, this is surely a cause for concern.

I left school at 16 and went straight into full-time employment with professional training. So did most of my peers. Some of them were soon able to live on their own, independent of parental support. They were either in rented accommodation or they were buying their own flats or starter homes. While at school, almost all of us had part-time jobs or sources of income which gave us some financial independence from our parents. When we were very young, we were allowed out to play unsupervised and were expected to take responsibility for our actions. Nowadays fewer children are able to earn any money of their own at all. They are totally dependent upon their parents until their late teens. As more and more are being shoe-horned into tertiary education, young people nowadays don’t get to earn a wage of their own until they’re in their early twenties. They should be adults but they are kept as children. Modern taste in pop music seems to be thoroughly symptomatic of this trend.

And why is it that modern pop music seems to enjoy such support from the very Establishment which used to condemn it? Politicians are sometimes quizzed about their tastes in music and the responses are wearily predictable: it is always something like Coldplay or Radiohead, or The Smiths, or something non-elitest and “trendy” from the past 15 years or so. I doubt whether any politician in his or her right mind would ever shamefully confess to a liking for Purcell or Bartok. A Cabinet Minister caught in possession of a CD of music by Varese or Gesualdo would probably be required to resign! Why is this? I think that part of the answer is that modern pop music promulgates a view of human beings of which politicians of all parties approve. We are consumers, whose function it is to earn and spend money. Our petty wants and desires play an important role in this. We must acquire more, spend more on expensive gadgets and gizmos with in-built obsolescence, we must indulge ourselves and pander to every trend, follow every fashion and satisfy every want – because we’re worth it. I’m talking. It is all about me. We can make it happen and burn brighter than the sun – and hopefully contribute to an eternally growing economy. Heaven forbid that we should start looking in another direction, thinking of the community rather than the individual, putting the needs and feelings of others alongside, even before, those of ourselves.

The younger generation are our future. They need to grow up sooner rather than later. Let us hope, then, that some day soon they will turn their back on the narcissistic little nursery rhymes offered them by today’s music industry and seek out, or create, something with more substance. Something healthier.

Those of us who spent our adolescent years poring over coffee stained copies of The Catcher In The Rye or Tess of the d’Ubervilles whilst bitterly rueing the fact that not a single girl in our school, college or workplace had the good sense to notice the painfully shy bookworm sitting tongue tied beside them, often took refuge in a particular form of popular music. Spurned and tormented, we squandered our teenage years in the self-imposed exile of our back bedrooms, consoling ourselves there by listening to a flutter of indie bands that had somehow cornered the market in self-pitying heartbreak and juvenile angst. We took a perverse pleasure in the confessions of these kindred spirits, as they meekly extolled the trials and tribulations of loveless lives that mirrored our own lachrymose existence.

The Smiths, in this respect, were beyond comparison, and in Morrissey they possessed a songwriter without equal in the miserablist pop pantheon. There were other bands, though, that had plenty to say on the subject of unrequited love. A whole genre of indie-pop, whether you call it twee, shambling or C-86, after the NME’s legendary mix-tape, was absolutely mired in it. Whilst bands like The Wedding Present (and for me David Gedge was the unofficial spokesman for the legion of shy-hearted boys who couldn’t summon the courage to front-up at the Friday night disco) enjoyed a lengthy spell in the limelight, many of their C-86 compatriots simply faded into obscurity. In some cases, no doubt, this was a blessing in disguise. However, bands like The Servants and Birmingham’s Mighty Mighty surely deserved to be more than a footnote in indie-pop history.

Pop Can: The Definitive Collection 1986-1988, on Cherry Red, attempts to set the record straight. Comprising all of Mighty Mighty’s excellent singles, B-sides and EPs alongside a few choice cuts from their debut album, the otherwise underwhelming Sharks, with a handful of tracks from the ‘lost’ second album The Betamax Tapes (finally released in 2013), Pop Can certainly does what it says on the tin, gathering together the best moments of this short-lived combo.

The album, whilst not arranged in chronological order, does kick off with debut single “Everybody Knows the Monkey” a jittery affair that sets the tone (Orange Juice and a dash of vox organ), for the frothy content of Pop Can. Other highlights of side one include the souped up single “Built Like a Car”, which reached no. 6 in the Independent Chart, their highest ranking effort, and the supremely catchy follow up, “Law”. Thankfully it’s the C-86 version that appears here, rather than the inferior “dance remix” that Chapter released on 12inch in late 1987

Side two commences with “Is There Anyone Out There for Me”, which probably remains the band’s best known song, reaching no. 44 in John Peel’s hallowed festive fifty of 1986. This is also the Mighty Mighty song that unsurprisingly appears on Cherry Red’s definitive compilation, Scared To Get Happy, The Story of Indie Music 1980-1989. The song boasts a terrifically effervescent chorus that also captures the brutality of adolescent loneliness, with Hugh McGuinness haplessly pleading for true love to come his way-

‘Is there anyone out there for me, is anyone else lonely / I can’t stand another summer of if only’.

Other stand-outs on side two are “Let’s Call It Love”, and a pair of tracks from The Betamax Tapes; “Touch of the Sun” and particularly “Unsteady” which brings to mind the literate/sophisticated pop of Lloyd Cole or Prefab Sprout. Whilst lyricist Mick Geoghegan may not quite rank alongside Cole or Paddy McAloon, “Unsteady” does signpost the more mature direction the band would surely have travelled in, had they continued –

‘Do you remember that letter of mine / When I changed my mind every other line / Now that I’m sure, will you condescend / to be introduced, as my unsteady girlfriend’.

Rather strangely, Mighty Mighty went on to noticeable posthumous success in Japan, whilst remaining prophets without honour in their own land.

Well, we’re all big boys now! Decades separate us from our former, self-pitying selves. Long gone are the days when David Gedge’s plaintive ‘aaaaaargh’ of despair reverberated through Leeds city centre streets at closing time. Even when taken out of its original context, though, the music still stands the test of time. Pop Can is full to brimming with sweet-toothed vignettes, fizzing over with tales of lost love that you can sing along to. Ultimately, this is a truly worthwhile trip down memory lane and a fitting tribute to one of the genre’s lesser known practitioners.

While we’re on the subject of the genre that dare not speak its name, here are my top ten twee related songs.

1. The Sun a Small Star: The Servants

The distrait, dreamy vocal, the sepia-tinted harmonies, the golden splashes of guitar that rained down on verse and chorus alike should all have ensured that “The Sun a Small Star” became a staple of mainstream radio for decades to come much in the manner of The La’s “There She Goes”. However, the track, which was taken from the sublime E.P of the same name, flatlined on release, managing just a solitary week on the Indie Charts reaching no. 47 in November 1986.

2. Is There Anyone Out There for Me: Mighty Mighty

The song that sound-tracked a succession of lovesick summers in rain-swept South Wales as Thatcher battered the valleys into submission. The dry humour, the self-pitying sixth-form poetry, and a star-spangled tune that still manages to send shivers scuttling down the spine, as well as bringing a tear to the weary eye!

3. Almost Prayed: The Weather Prophets

The sun-dappled guitar licks, alone, were enough to give many of the fair-skinned wallflowers who bought this, The Weather Prophets’ debut single, a serious case of sunburn and the passing decades have done little to diminish its luminescent beauty.

The group, formed by Peter Astor and Dave Morgan, after The Loft had raised the roof for the last time, went on to achieve minor chart success when “She Comes from the Rain” peaked at no. 62 in March ’87. Their second album, Mayflower, from which this track is lifted, is arguably the best album of a sub-genre that (Wedding Present aside) can’t be said to have produced anything approaching a classic 33rpm record.

4. The Word around Town: Westlake*

Having dismissed his Servants, David Westlake released one eponymous Mini-LP, through Creation records, before decamping for a career in academia. “The Word around Town” is the record which reserves Westlake’s place on the shortlist of best British lyricists of the decade, alongside the likes of David Gedge, Robert Lloyd, Elvis Costello and Morrissey. A masterpiece of literate pop which includes this wry piece of self-analysis:

“The word around town among those for whom nothing is sacred / Is that the Emperor’s clothes don’t exist but he’s beautiful naked”.

* Be careful to avoid the demo version which is currently doing the rounds on the Small Time compilation.

5. My Favourite Dress: The Wedding Present

“Some rare delight in Manchester town / It took six hours before you let me down / to see it all in a drunken kiss / A strangers hand on my favourite dress”.

David Gedge, the George Clooney of Indie pop, may baulk at the company he is asked to keep here. There was always something fundamentally more muscular and unwholesome about this angry young man’s amatory musings, allied to the bellicose guitar bursts that characterised songs like “Brassneck”, that put their C-86 compatriots to shame. For a start, there was the sense that Gedge’s dysfunctional relationships were actually with real women, rather than the imaginary girlfriends his fey counterparts and more often than not, his devoted followers were unhealthily fantasising over.

The band released two classic albums, George Best and Bizarro, before the law of diminishing returns took over. Nevertheless, they enjoyed spectacular chart success, racking up a half-century of hit singles between 1988 and 2005.

6. Pristine Christine: The Sea Urchins

This jubilantly jaunty single was the debut release on Sarah records (unofficial home of twee) and spent six weeks on the Indie charts. Their love affair with Sarah was short lived, though, and they sought solace in the enticing arms of Cheree records in the fleshpots of London, before splitting up for good in the summer of 1991.

7. She’s Always Hiding: The Servants

A passively beautiful pop song, posited somewhere between Galaxie 500 and Real Estate, with a closing guitar solo that drifts along languorously, like an Indian Summer, before dissolving in the shimmering haze of our subconscious. Why David Westlake traded in the sublimely graceful sound of these early Servants singles for the more claustrophobic tones of their dowdy albums will forever remain one of pops most puzzling career moves.

8. Untidy Towns: The Lucksmiths

Although latecomers to the “anorak” scene (the Melbourne based combo were only formed in 1993), the group can lay claim to having produced the most consistent body of work the genre yielded on either side of the world. These bashful boys chalked up eleven, mostly fine, albums before parting company in 2009. Influenced by all the usual suspects (The Smiths, Orange Juice and The Go-Betweens) they also acknowledged a debt to the bittersweet love songs of Britain’s most underrated wordsmith, Billy Bragg. “Untidy Towns” is a random selection, there are over a hundred genteel vignettes as heart-warming as this one tucked away in their backpack.

9. Fabulous Friend: The Field Mice

If New Order hadn’t discovered Arthur Baker and the New York club scene, as they struggled to come to terms with the death of Ian Curtis and Joy Division, they would have been forever frozen in time as The Field Mice! Dinky little tunes like “Sensitive” and “Emma’s House” couldn’t knock the froth off a pint of bitter, but that’s all part of the band’s frangible charm.

10. I’m In Love with a Girl Who Doesn’t Know I Exist: Another Sunny Day

The title alone merits its inclusion on this list, managing as it does to sum up the whole raison d’etre of the genre in one indisputably sorrowful sentence. Harvey Williams, the young Werther of twee, deserves recognition, though, for his work as ASD and as a guitarist with their Sarah records’ stable mates The Field Mice.