Lyrically, there was nothing like them. Any band who can start a song, ‘Unctuous, prattling pecksniffs quake and quail and quiver, as the Badger Boys come down the street like pike down an empty river’ have got to be worth a listen…

Here’s your playlist…

Hellhound on my Trail – Robert Johnson
Aloha from Hell – The Cramps
Armageddon Days (Are Here Again) – The The
Queer – Garbage
When the Sun Goes Down – Arctic Monkeys
Godless – The Dandy Warhols
I’ve Got my TV and my Pills – Julian Cope
Heaven Up Here – Echo and the Bunnymen
Shoplifters of the World Unite – The Smiths
Love Will Tear Us Apart – Joy Division
Ego Tripping at the Gates of Hell – The Flaming Lips
Beasley Street – John Cooper Clarke
Burning Sky – The Jam
Sinnerman – Nina Simone
Too Tough To Die – Martina Topley-Bird
Demon Days – Gorillaz
Big Night Out – Fun Lovin’ Criminals
Do Anything You Want To – Thin Lizzy
Burn it Down – Dexy’s Midnight Runners
Boys from the County Hell – The Pogues
(I’ll Love You) Till the End of the World – Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds
Sympathy for the Devil – Rolling Stones
The End – The Doors

And finally…

I Think We’re Alone Now – Girls Aloud

[

Thanks to the always excellent John Anealio. And how many SFF books are on the shelves this month?????

Courtesy of Lou Anders.

The Kernow collective has just got in touch with me to say they’ve got some new music available to download here, for free. It’s an ep, called Lowender, which means happiness in Cornish, and is described as “an overstimulated and unstable celebration of Cornish festivals”.

If you like it, give them a donation.

You can get it here.

But we can speak honestly here. We all know about the mysterious connections in life. The stuff that goes on behind all those scientific processes. The weird, inexplicable occurrences lurking in the corners of day-to-day existence. The gods and imps and fairies and demons that we like to call other things because, you know, that whole coats with no arms thing…

When I say “the universe speaks to me”, I mean it speaks to all writers, all musicians, all artists. We each tend to put a different face on it, but it’s the same voice. So where do my gods and fairies and demons lurk?

In pubs with stone and timber and glowering locals and beer with strange names. In deep rural life which city folk think is backward, but is wild and dangerous and so removed it might as well be another planet. In bands that you might stumble across in the back rooms of pubs and never hear from again. In stone circles, crumbling ruins, lonely pools, old houses. Across those city liminal zones – industrial estates under sodium at 3am, empty, broken-windowed factories and wasteground with rainbow-streaked puddles. In black-faced, mirror-glassed morris men and biker gangs. In snatches of music heard after midnight. In moots and meets and markets held under moonlight. These are the places where stories are born. These are the locations where my writing gods live.

And for a specific example, here’s one of the inspirations for Age of Misrule…

The Dancing Did remain one of my favourite bands, a quarter of a century after they split up. Characterised as “neo rustic pagan bop” or “a cross between The Clash and Steeleye Span”, you can find out more about them here.

Their album, And Did Those Feet, is little-known but essential, particularly if you like fantasy or any of those things I listed above. The lyrics are clever, witty and poetic and deal with ancient things encroaching on the modern world – listen to ‘The Wolves of Worcestershire‘ or ‘Charnel Boy‘. A remixed version with a booklet and additional tracks is available from Cherry Red.

The Dancing Did’s thematic equivalent today may well be Cornish collective Kemper Norton though the music is very, very different. I came across them through the regular ravings of Warren Ellis, another fan. More inspiration. I bet they never imagined they’d be dragging a story about Elizabethan spies and Faerie into the light…

I recently received a CD from Occasionally David, a band that has been circling the UK music scene since the 70s, heavily rooted in English psychedelia. The core of the band is Clive Whitelock and Ray Bate, who first met in ’69. Influential British DJ John Peel championed them in 1980 when they released a single, I Can’t Get Used to Losing You (so I’m Coming back).

They sent me Forever Changes, their psychedelic/garage version of Love’s classic sixties album, which was previously only available on limited edition cassette in 1987. And excellent it is too, a lopsided, particularly English take on Love’s material, quirky, trippy and powerful.

As an aside, psychedelia and garage is an area I’m particularly interested in – though I pretty much listen to every genre – and anyone who’s read Jack of Ravens and Wonderland knows of my debt to Love.

You can hear more of Occasionally David’s stuff at their MySpace page.

And any artists reading this, send me something and if I like it I’ll give it a mention. I listen to *a lot* of music, particularly when I’m working, and I’m always on the look-out for something new.

Moorcock was a part of Hawkwind for several years, and the band’s Chronicle of the Black Sword album was heavily influenced by his work. Cherry Red records recently secured the rights to release all of Hawkwind’s material, which had been unavailable for many years. More details at the Cherry Red site.

I came across his track Court of the Yearning Heart a couple of months back and liked it immensely. For those interested in the myth/music crossover, have a listen to his second album, By the Ley, which also features a bonus track referencing Black Shuck.

You can listen to Court of the Yearning Heart on his site, above, or go to his MySpace page, where you can also find the latest gig information. I notice he’s playing the Tintagel Arms in Tintagel, Cornwall, on December 19, which is remarkably fitting and sounds like a great solstice celebration.

He’s also got some really interesting experimental electronica at www.myspace.com/aethertalk.

Age of Misrule has inspired a few musicians now, and it’s always a rush to hear how the stories can, in a spiral dance-y fashion, spark off another creator’s work.

It’s called My Lord Balor and you can hear it here.