From early fame in the '50s as part of an R&B duo, this New York-born producer was to change pop music culture forever by creating the world's first ever rap smash hit. Steve Sutherland on the life and work of the woman they call the 'Mother of hip-hop'
A-a-a-a-a-nd… Action! There's this young guy minding his own business outside the McDonald's on the corner of Palisade Avenue in Englewood, New Jersey, when an Oldsmobile 98 pulls up to the kerb. A teenaged boy jumps out, races over to the guy and shouts: 'Casper! Where you been? You were due in the studio on Monday!'.
There's not a dud among all nine tracks here, declares Steve Sutherland as he listens to the recent 180g reissue of Jonathan Richman's proto-punk debut LP
According to that top old egghead Brain Eno, 'The first Velvet Underground album only sold 10,000 copies, but everyone who bought it formed a band'. One of those is a weird young man from a place called Natick, some 17 miles West of Boston, Massachusetts. The little guy's name is Jonathan Michael Richman and he was once so obsessed with The Velvet Underground that he quit school and skipped off to New York to seek them out.
A succession of happy accidents or always ahead of the curve? However you judge the career of this British-born DJ and producer one thing's for sure: he became a messianic figure to a generation of clubbers around the world. Steve Sutherland has the story...
Try as they might, they couldn't get arrested. They were two albums into a career that was stalling fast. To be fair, their debut, a wan psych indie thing called Sonic Flower Groove had been quite well received but their eponymous new one was going nowhere, given the cold shoulder by pretty much everyone. Everyone, that is, except for this one dude who ran a very cool fanzine and was rapidly gaining a reputation as an inside track clubland scenester.
Stax meets rocksteady in this rousing reggae set, which has been described as one of the most uplifting LPs ever. Steve Sutherland listens to the recent 180g reissue
Sometimes things go wrong. Like when I was flown to San Francisco to interview Australian psychedelic popsters The Church and they wouldn't talk to me, over a grudge which to this day remains a mystery to me. Then there was the time I interviewed the brilliant and now sadly deceased Prince Far I and such was the depth of his gutteral growl and the deep slur of his diction that, on playing back the tape recording, neither myself nor anyone else I cared to play it to could decipher a single word he uttered...
Wearing his film critic's hat, Steve Sutherland recalls seeing Oliver Stone's movie in the early 1990s and reviews the soundtrack album that's now on 180g vinyl
She hits me from behind so I don't see it coming. I go down and she piles on top of me. People scatter. A couple of glasses smash, dislodged from a nearby table in the melee. She's pummelling me now, and wrestling. And she's laughing. So am I. I think she must be drunk – I know I am…
Whether capturing The Kinks' proto-fuzz guitar on tape or the howl of The Who's feedback on record, this US-born producer's catalogue of firsts were to make him one of the most influential forces in '60s rock. Steve Sutherland celebrates Shel Talmy
Our tale begins in Cuba, or probably on a boat on its way from Havana to Miami. Let's imagine it's a choppy crossing and the rhythm we're here to follow has had a nip or two of rum, its footing unsteady on deck, rocking to and fro in a kind of exuberant stumbling macho strut.
His shimmering guitar soundscapes not only brought the Cocteau Twins fame back in the '80s but would earn him numerous production credits with other bands seeking his trademark touch. Steve Sutherland on the Scottish-born producer Robin Guthrie
One of the '80s most over-the-top critical statements…' That's what the Guardian said.
'That was very naughty of you Steve, very, very naughty…' was what the singer said before she bit me on the arm in the pouring rain outside the Embassy Club in London and drew blood through my jacket, a small rosary of teeth marks tattooed there for a week or two, testament to her displeasure.
This band of talented '60s musicians were one of those rare breeds – a British folk supergroup. Steve Sutherland revisits their hit LP from 1969, reissued on 180g vinyl
Way back in the mists of time, before every rapper and R&B star worth his, or her, ice degraded it all by cottoning on to the commercial boost of cramming all their releases with famous guests, there was this strange and rare phenomenon called The Supergroup.
Not only was this British-born producer an RAF pilot in WWII but he would go on to become The Beatles' first sound engineer before discovering and producing Pink Floyd. So why did John Lennon christen him 'Normal'? Steve Sutherland has the answer...
The group, it's fair to say, were getting a right rollicking. Their hair was too long, their clothes too shabby, their manners a mite lairy, and as for their equipment... it was a shambles, falling apart.
The 1970 album by the lads from Ladbroke Grove was edited from 'live in the studio' takes. Steve Sutherland listens to a 180g vinyl reissue of their space rock debut
Let us not concern ourselves with debating the greatest album ever made. Or the greatest single, for that matter. Because, let's face it, chances are we won't reach any kind of consensus and most likely we'll be here all day arguing about it.
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