Yesterday I had a feeling I haven't had in a while, one that I believed that I had buried deep inside me, but one that clearly remains integral to my being. Walking past a second hand book store, I saw a big pile of vinyl, just waiting to be thumbed. And although I don't have a record player, and my precious collection is 5345.8 miles away, I still felt that urge. After a nice lunch, we returned to find the book store closed for the day. Grrrr. So my impulse remains unfulfilled.
It did set my mind to thinking about some of the great charity shop finds that I was lucky enough to lay my grubby mitts on. There was the time I found an original Kraftwerk Autobahn, albums by Fela Kuti, Prince and The Fall, a Blue Monday 12", and the Muppet Movie soundtrack in a Sue Ryder on Wembley High Road. Wherever you are Peter Mohammad (his name was written in tiny letters on the labels) I salute your eclectic taste. And the time I found a load of late '80's hip hop albums in a Cancer Research shop in Ruislip. The elderly lady behind the counter told me that her friend had just dropped off some of her sons old things, stuff that she didn't think he wanted any more. Those two words "didn't think" induced a feeling a guilt and solidarity as I remembered how my Mum had given away my Star Wars figures when I was a teenager, because she assumed I no longer wanted them. She was wrong. This feeling of solidarity lasted about 3 seconds, before it was swiftly replaced by euphoria.
One of my greatest finds wasn't even vinyl, nor was it in a charity shop. It was a dirty CD, in a Cash Converters somewhere in north west London. In amongst the many free-with-a-magazine CD's, promo CD singles, and free-with-a-magazine software CD-R's, I noticed this:
I had no idea who Betty Davis was, but there was something about the cover that attracted me. Maybe it was her amazing silver boots or maybe it was the gigantic and extremely impressive 'fro, whatever it was, it was enough for me to look at the back. There I found the song titles which were really the clincher:
Your Man My Man (mp3)
If I'm In Luck I Might Get Picked Up
Anti Love Song
Steppin In Her I. Miller Shoes
Game Is My Middle Name
There was something different about these titles, the whole thing seemed exotic, so I took a punt. And luckily I was right about this one. Betty Davis took funk deeper and nastier than anyone else as ever managed, more than George, Sly or even James. She made it really nasty, as if to listen to her music meant you had to be prepared to get into those grooves, role your sleeves up and get working. The album is phenomenal, and was followed by the equally fine, They Say I'm Different, from which this track comes:
Betty Davis - He was A Big Freak
She released three albums in all, but none of them sold, so she disappeared. I didn't even know if she was still alive, until I found her first radio interview in 30 years. You can listen to her talk about her amazing life which includes a marriage to Miles Davis, a 'friendship' with Jimi Hendrix, a modelling career, and being a DJ.
And please go buy the recently reissued first two albums here.
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2 comments:
I love Betty Davis. The fact that she was shagging Jimi while married to Miles means that she was, for a time, perhaps the very centre of the universe...
thank you sir. that has put a dip in my hip and a slide in my stride on this monday morning. how are things your end? did you get my last e mail? good to hear someone putting out the gospel on electroma - it was one of my highlights at cannes last year, and finally i found a film that got better by falling in and out of sleep for half a minute here and there. (for those of you reading this who don't know me, this isn't a sarcastic criticism of the film, i fall asleep in every film i see). anyway. have you heard the tuss yet? could it actually be aphex? i'm off to LA for deena's brother's wedding next week, so will feel about twice as close to you as normal. hope you enjoy that feeling. speak soon.
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