The Just Joans - Indietracks

Eeeep!!! Last weekend was Indietracks 2010, everyone's favourite indiepop music festival based at a railway museum in the Midlands.

And here's a video I took of The Just Joans playing their song I Won't Survive



Usually I record loads of video and string it all together to try and encapsulate the whole festival experience, but alas this year I was unable to.

Still, The Just Joans are great aren't they.

The Just Joans - Stereo, Glasgow

I've just discovered two new Just Joans videos up on YouTube. They were filmed by Colin BMX Rejects at Stereo, I think it was the gig where they supported The Hidden Cameras the other day.

This track's called 'Stuart Had a Dirty Book', it seems to be a riff off Belle and Sebastian's Judy and the Dream of Horses, its a song about masturbation.


This is 'Why Are We So lonely, Steven?', probably the same Steven who owes a pint in 'Friday Afternoons Down the Union'

The Just Joans - London PopFest 2010

I missed them myself, on the night in question I was running late for a works dinner, feeling sorry for myself, about to drive off to Essex and I had no ticket for the show, so I missed the gig, and I can't believe its been three weeks and I never checked if anyone had any videos of Motherwell's finest The Just Joans:-

Friday Afternoons


Hideous Accident


Virgin Lips


All the Umbrellas in London


Grant Kelly

Recurring motifs in Just Joans' songs

The Just Joans are a truly great band, from Motherwell, they're century's answer to both Pulp and The Proclaimers.

I saw them play at the Betsey Trotwood in London the other day, and recorded them too.

They started some time in the middle of the decade, lead singer David Pope recording a handful of bittersweet bedsit songs in his bedroom on a 1980's tape recorder. When Adam suggested I put out a CD on my bedroom based record label in 2005 and handed me the tape, I had to stop my car cos the songs caught me just there.

They've gone from strength to strength since then, with four releases on London's critically acclaimed indie label WeePop!, every show they play sells out and other bands across the world record covers.

On thing that listeners will notice when careering through the Just Joans' discography is the recurring motifs, the hooks and lines that crop up again and again. Here's a broad summary of these recurring motifs.

Lines from other songs

• What Do We Do Now - "What do we do now" From Sleeper What do we do now
• Coia's Empty - "I love an in day with happy atmosphere" from Russ Abbot's Atmosphere, "And after all you're my wonderwall" From Oasis's Wonderwall
• East Kilbride - "I'm getting bugged running up and down the same old strip, I need to find me a place where the kids are hip" from The Beach Boy's I get around
• Friday Afternoons - "You know that I've been drunk a thousand times, but these should be the best days of my life" from The Wonderstuff Size of a Cow
• Hideous Accident - "I read the news today, oh boy" from The Beatles Day in the Life

Counting

• What Do We Do Now? - 20 to 25 (30 to 35 in Smittens version), years passing since you last saw your friends from home
• Five Beer Bottles - 1 to 5, 5 to 9, beer bottles spinning on the floor and months of fear

Old and Lonely

• Old and Lonely - When the Just Joans played their debut gig at the Tchai Ovna,their set finished with a cover of The Magnetic Fields' 'Old and Lonely', this cover has made a resurgence in their set more recently. Its a dour song, but fits well with the regular Just Joans sentiment
• I won't Survive - Contains the line "When I was young my mother told me, not to grow up old and lonely". There seems to be this sense of inevitability in all the songs that you can't fight your destiny, and the protagonist will always end up old and lonely.

Coia

• Coia's Empty - A song about a low key party at Coia's place "cos his folks are in Spain, and drinking in a house is better than drinking in the rain"
• What Do We Do Now - Years later, when catching up with old friends, the song asks "Do you still see much of Coia? No, he's moved in with his girlfriend". In The Smittens' cover Coia has changed gender and is moving in with his girlfriend.
• Does he know?

Steven

• Friday Afternoons - "Hey Steven, Where's that pint you owe me?" asked at Glasgow University Union
• Why are we so lonely, Steven? - New song, not sure of the lyrics

People

• Murray - Coia's Empty
• Jenny - Coia's Empty
• Grant Kelly - Grant Kelly
• Rowan - Grant Kelly
• Coia - Coia's Empty, What do we do now
• Steven - Why are we so lonely Steven?, Friday Afternoons
• John - I hear you're the man now John

Places

• East Kilbride
• Motherwell
• The Little Green Shop
• Glasgow Union
• Strathclyde Park
• Bellshill Station
• London

Here's a couple of other bands covering Just Joans songs:-


The Felt Forum - Five Beer Bottles (Just Joans cover)


The Smittens - What Do We Do Now (Just Joans cover)

There was an Australian mob, Tiny Records, who did a spiffing cover of Back to Highschool on a NotQuiteRocketScience podcast, and here's my own cover of if you don't pull.

manc_ill_kid - If You Don't Pull (Just Joans cover) by manc_ill_kid

The Just Joans - Love and Other Hideous Accidents - a review

Just received the new Just Joans EP from WeePop!

Its ace.

But...

The 'If You Don't Pull' track that I've been raving about for months and months since I heard it last summer, it sounds too much like it was recorded by the 2007 Just Joans, rather than the 2008 live experience or whatever disillusion I have of them in my head. The track needs a beefier chorus, the backing vocals need more more.

Here, I've found a poor quality playback of it on YouTube, worth a listen if you really need to hear it.

Hey, that video's got the same cat as the old System Error video

Anyhoo, Row and Katie do a fine job on the chorus, but they're too sweet. It needs a choir, here, check out these choirs, pick one, any one, and imagine if they were singing the 'If you don't pull, Then you'll have to walk home on your own..." refrain.

The Parsonage
Scala
The Choir With No Name

Being a DIY kind of chap myself, I could probably record myself a remix with me doing a multi-tracked chorus as I prescribe.

...what do you know, the old trick of using headphones as a microphone doesn't work with Apple iPod headphones, or any of the in-ear headsets that come with mobile phones these days. What happened to make modern technology so difficult to hack?

So I go though my old gig kit, I've got dozens of proper microphones, but no XLR to 3.5mm cabley connectory things. I did however discover a Zoom Multitrack digital recorder which I swear I've never seen before in my life. I had an old cassette fourtrack, back in the day, but that's away now. No microphone solution there.

Success however lies in my Blackberry's voice note app. Maybe not quite good enough for a proper musical recording, but hey, it's up to my usual standard of recording quality...

Hmm, actually, I think it's a regular C-F-C-G type thing with Am noodles, I could rustle up my own cover as soon as I can memorise the secod verse.

manc_ill_kid - If You Don't Pull (Just Joans cover) by manc_ill_kid

Hunger

There is nothing in my tummy. I'm running out of money. My limitless talents are of no help. I wasalmost talked into lending a friend £500 that I don't have, because she was a girl in need and the closest thing I have to a buddy at the moment.

I got home yesterday to find a big old parcel, could it be the Bowlie Round 19 mixCD at long last?


No, it was even better


A friend from the internet's sexblogger community had sent me a load of goodies. Much skipping round the house and making 'eep'noises.

Managed to send off one Just Joans CD, at long last. Only another five to do, then the overwealming waves of guilt will begin to subside.

Ooh, memories of talking to people at a gig the other day. I could do with chatting to people I don't know more often than I do.

I've branched out, inspired by the parcel, I wrote a bit of erotic writing over on the nuddy site. Most of my traffic comes from non-English speaking countries so it could be a bit of a waste, but it was worth a try. Have a strange urge to exorcise daemons by writing more of that sort of thing, but again feel doubt that making up for a lack of social/sex life with fiction can only be wrong wrong wrong.

Success and agony

eeep, With google adsense abandoning me when I was barely up to $60, they only pay out at $100 intervals, so I had to seek other sources of revenue. By selling ad space directly to the selling folk, I can make $1/week, or if I up my prices who knows. Got the first payment yesterday. Skipping round my room think who I could spend the naked chick millions on.

Injured cheek is getting annoying. Depending on which side I lie on when I'm in bed, woke up in howling agony several times. Face is now hideously disfigured and my speech has been affected, sounds like I'm trying to chaw a whole pack of gum when I talk.

Sleep also disrupted by early morning text messages, but hey ho, I guess it comes with the territory of being the sort of person folk call in times of need and loneliness.

Still craving company and afflicted by crippling loneliness. Possibly going on the London Eye this evening with Rowan Just Joan and boyf. Would prefer warm hug and someone to tell me that beans on toast ought not be the best meal of yer week.

Happy Birthday (Judo not required)

Blog temporarily made private over the weekend cos Andy Hart found it offensive and was being a dick as always. I had not enough time and inclination to sort it. But now I have.

Photies from Glasgow
here

Report from the weekend in Glasgow below...


Friday - 19:23
I sit, at long last, on the plane,
my fate in the hands of a pilot. I am
helpless.

Not quite enough time in the airport to
buy snacks, too much queuing for security, foreign
folk needing to queue jump to avoid missing their
flight. At the check in desk, so paracitic
credit card chugger. I script in my head what
I'd say, I'd ask if he has a credit card,
one of those, and does he pay it in full
every month. Does the 16% APR look set
to be reduced in line with interest rates and isn't
10.5% profit a bit steep?

The bus dropped us off, leading to
a frantic dash to the check in desk, this
immaculately designed building raped with security
barriers, they look temporary, in that way
that things do after they've been in place for
fice years.

Was running late to get out of work,
firing of a final salvo to Anorak. Why
is it always antagonistic and confrontational
Is it me? No, cos even when I'm not
there Tasty fires salvos, even when I don't
mention stuff, Tasty brings things up.
Maybe he has never stopped loving me.

It ain't healthy, this running through
my head.

"It might help if you asked The
Plimptons to write some good songs" quoth he.

"If they did, would you listen?" Untyped.



The chap sat next to me is getting
frustrated. "Fuck" he says,. The plane isn't due
to leave for another five minutes.

The stewardess with the mic is amusing.
Two lost passengers, are we sure we're
not them? Are we sure we're going to
Glasgow?

Friday - 21:37
The venue isn't open yet, The Beat Club
375 Sauchiehall Street, so I head to ra
Noodle Bar for ma dinner.

Somewhere behind me and to the left a
chap from my first year at university is having
food with his friends.

Since I stepped off the airport bus,
Central Station stop, I've been filled with
glee, I'm home and dry. The streets warm and
embracing, familiar and safe.

This one time I ate in here before a
Belle & Seb gig at the ABC, there was a
crowd of ten or so of us, bickering over eating in
or take away.

Saturday - 00:47
The Beat Club is dark and neon lit when I wander
in, through the murk I see Paul Smith
of Pin Up, and thence emerges Martin Smith
and in the distance Adam, friends. I spot
five or six people, Plimps and entourage. On
stage are some noisy shoegaze Oasis kids. If
they weren't too young I'd figure they were taking
the piss.

Text message from Robbie, he's round the
corner at The State, and seconds later, I'm there
too. Finton Stack, and a chap called Anders, the
name's a little familiar, but I've never seen
him before in my life.

The chaps are there sampling beers
uninterested in joining me at the Plimptons gig
probably awaiting the new album rather than
internecine gigging.

We chat, time passes and I return to
Pin Up Nights.

It was years ago, 1999 when I
first met John D McGonagle, one of the
founders of the Pin Up Nights franchise, him and a chap
called Graham. We'd been competing against
each other in the elections to be student
president at Strathclyde.

I didn't see John D at the gig, thing
slowly fall apart I guess.

Excitement buids before the Plimps take
to the stage. I recognise folk in the
crowd, the smiley foreign lass from
Sounds of Sweden, Chris, Dave and
Katie from the Just Joans, ancient
scenesters from long ago.

The place explodes when the Plimps
take to the stage.

They have the new album in their
minds, still raw, not recorded. The
band all psyched, Rowan smiling eyes
asparkle, Martin overcome by crazed animal spirits,
Cal the youngester fitting in neatly to the six-piece,
Adam twitching by the mic, on home turf, Neil
back to the audience sorting out levels on his
bass, Paul - eyeliner.

Whilst there are still the regular old favourites in the
set, Could I Be Loved and John Major, they
take the opportunity of a full band to play the
more complicated stuff from their 2004 debut
album and earlier demos, The Plimptons Rap
even gets an airing.

Tracks from the third album include Lonely
Old Man, who's MySpace references could date quickly
and Virgin on the Ridiculous, which sounds
terrifyingly like Elvis Costello, Paul Kelly's influence
in the song writing.

Most terrifying of the evening are the
people dancing, looks of glee on the audience's
faces isn't enough, there are mobs of
complete strangers dancing in front of the
stage, folk coming up and shaking Adam's
hand after the show.

What have they
gained since I left?

Text message from the girl, she's just
finished work, Robbie, Finton, and Anders
are there so I head off.

---

The next day, the weather's shite
as we head off to the farmer's market in
Partick, on a quest for duck eggs and
homemade sorbet.

Some further acquaintance from uni is
running one of the stalls, selling porridge oats,
my eyes glaze over as I try to recall
how I know him, but the moment passes.

Robbie and Finto are there,
four of us head to a bearby Polish Deli
for pickles and kabanos. In Glasgow its
still a novelty instead of the norm.

The weather's still crap as we sit
in The Three Judges. I leave myself at
the combined mercy of the others' expert
knowledge of fine beers and ales.

The rain is torrential with blobs of
snows, the girl's feet soaked, when we
call round at my old flat to pick up
mail. A good carrier bag full for
me to wade through an hour later at
the Bon Accord as we're served a
succession of Bloody Mary derived drinks.
The one with floaty nits of horseradish
is unexpectedly
pleasant, but
would be a
task to persuade
others to sample.

An indian
takeaway, the
film Chopper
with Eric
Bana and NCiIS
on the TV.

Its dark and wet out when we
stagger into The Cellers. Used to be the
Brunswick Cellers back in my day, now its still
cold and gloomy but utterly without soul.
Flatmate Alan and his wife Claire are here
for my birthday. They haven't seen us since
the wedding, two months ago, they
bring gifts. I melt in a gooey mess of
happiness, leaving Natalie and Alan to
do the talking. The Wolfknuckles soldier on,
Iain Thornton is still around, no one's
seen Teamie in months, the old club nights
are achanging, naked woman on fliers.
Bis still playing gigs. Working over
Christmas. Teamie appears, the
descent of the Winchester, change, change,
change.

Drinks are drunk and baby its time to
move on.

The weather's still crap as me and
Natalie find The Flying Duck, the entrance
is hidden, but inside its homely. We
strangely see Bis's Sci-Fi Steve fluttering
down the corridors like the fifth Doctor,
before we pay in and retrouve Robbie and
Finto.

The latest version of that crowd is here,
faces missing, far away, unexpected face
now here, like Big Duncan and Wake The
President, last see in London just days
before.

Robbie dragging me to the dancefloor for the Rutles.
Nat dragging me to the dancefloor for some other dancing
Me dragging Robbie to the dancefloor via Gav for Hectors
Natalie taking photies of the boys, looking cool
Fear / jealousy of Natalie and Finto chatting and flicking through my camera, then remembering faith and the phrase 'true blue'
Flashes of years gone by, similar folk dancing similarly
Somethings change, but not everything
Text message from the ex-wife, she'd just finished work and wanted to know where we were, battery on my phone failed before I could reply.
For a few seconds I thought it could be awkward were she with us.
Robbie mentioning some sad news about an ex- in London. Feelings of helpnessness "But I should do something"
More booze, more dancing.
Trying to get Ally to play Pipettes.
Trying to get Ally to put on more bands at the Winchester
Replying to Colin's post on Anorak offline.
Switching on lamps and eating cashew nuts, pilferred from the night before.
Dancing to Stone Roses.
Smiling at Finto and Nat dancing to Pulp. Did I really drag him out to the Winchester?

Did I have fun, damned right, didn't
even have to apply Mental Judo.

Next morning we stagger to the
bus station. A man dies of a heart attack
in Waterstones. I step onto the Megabus
and vanish.

The Just Joans - Looking Like Rain video

Cracking review taking shape over on Last Night From glasgow Indie Eyespy, my idea of taking DrivenByBoredom style pictures really seems to be paying off.

Tonight the mighty Just Joans are playing their London debut show at Twee Ass-Fuck, at the MacBeth in Shoreditch. Should be jolly fun, Plimpto drummer Rowan is doing percussion for them, and Camera Obscura cover-star, internationally reknown artist and friend Katie Pope is doing vocal duties. Its should be special.

I'm not 100% sure what BlueDot is, but they seem to like my art site