Fifty Greatest Misses

50 of my songs and stories written during and about my 50+ years living, so far...

Disclaimer... The artist (me) wishes to excuse some of the following... the crackle, cackle, buzz and pop, lazy lyrics and piquant pitching, bitching, scandal and slander. Any similarity to anyone alive or dead is occasionally unintentional.

36. The Most Expensive Record

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S Rhatigan/ C Charles © 1993

Today the future looks bright, so I’m able to look back, without feeling bogged down in the past and I’m able to remember with more fondness than regret, the adventures and mishaps of my life till now and the joy of re-acquaintance with old friends.

I’ve been very slow with this latest blog  for many reasons, among them my on going efforts to move forward with new music and the feeling that perhaps all this reminiscing is counter productive. Nostalgia is big though, it’s everywhere. Retro this, vintage that, particularly music. I heard a Hawkwind track on the Marc Reilly show on BBC 6 music the other day and thought it was the next breakthrough alternative band, I should really know about…

The bands and songwriters I’m seeing around Dublin are happy to seamlessly weave their interpretations of classic and obscure covers into their own original songs both live and on record, to the point where unless you’re a musicologist you wouldn’t know where one ends and the other begins…

Last night was a case in point. I headed into Whelans to play a few tunes for John Byrne’s Song Cycle night, I particularly wanted to try out a new song but the lyric was frustratingly unfinished… The standard was high as usual but unfortunately the noisy bar made it difficult for the players. Nonetheless through the noise I heard some gorgeous tunes from Kevin O’Rourke, front man with Massachusetts based alt folk band Lo Fine. Among his own fine songs he slipped in a cover of Blondie’s Dreaming. All atmosphere and melancholy, nothing like the original which I love, but something else, something quite fresh surprisingly. While listening to Kevin I even managed to get a good working lyric finished, so I succeeded in playing my new song, which bucked my spirits up considerably.

Then I headed down to another great Dublin institution, The Stags Head, to a new Monday night session upstairs, ‘De Grand Old Oprey’, hosted by two wonderful musicians Tony Mc Loughlin of Dublin band The Young Folk and singer songwriter Niall Thomas, who has one of the most appealing voices I’ve heard recently. Together they turn their hand to a range of songs, mostly covers, across a vareiety of genres but in their own very appealing lounge, alt country style. They usually have one main guest, on this occasion a chance to hear Kevin O’Rourke again and his Blondie cover. Tony and Niall accompany the guests, and there are contributions from other musicians hanging out, so I had the pleasure of chipping in a tune too. As a result this morning I feel renewed and motivated to move forward with my new music, but also to put another story from the past out there, finally…

This shot from the THWL artwork predates pantigate but serves as an omen of what was to come!

This shot from the THWL artwork predates pantigate but serves as an omen of what was to come!

I want to upload The Most Expensive Record now, because I hope that will really put an end to it…

The song is quite ‘old school’ in its composition and arrangement, if not exactly retro. It’s funny, most tunes are timeless but arrangements and particularly lyrics can betray an old song masquerading as a new one. The lyric of this monster is a good example, referencing MTV as the ultra important outlet for music and video, that it was, back in the 80’s and ninety’s. TMER is a parody, chronicling, sort of, the madness and mad money spent making and promoting To Hell With Love. This song and a number of other tunes were demos for what should have been the follow up album, which of course never happened. We had just finished a European tour and things were looking up…ish. We had great support from RCA/ BMG around continental Europe particularly in Netherlands and Germany, but weeks later, shortly after these recording sessions I was dropped from the label and my band, recruited during my time in New York were let go. It was over.

It wasn’t all bad you know! I did have some great times in NY, particularly playing live with the band. My right and left hand man, guitarist Matt Backer and I, held auditions in New York for the touring band and we really fell on our feet. Jack Daley is a world class bass player. He lives and breathes his instrument. He plays in a kind of groove induced trance, the heavier the better. He was the bottom and we built up from there. Jack brought drummer Julius Klepacz in and together they were a great rhythm section. Julius, aka ‘The Count’ a larger than life hilarious and sometimes terrifying mix of wild cat and pussy cat. You wouldn’t want to rub him up the wrong way, but when you did, you just let him cough up his fur ball and he was soon purring away happily again. Piano virtuoso George Laks was the baby, a wonderful sensitive beautiful man, just starting out on his career, but with an old soul. After a while we added violinist Deni Bonet. Deni was and still is one of life’s optimists. When the shit came down as it often did, Deni would stay positive. We travelled in the states, Europe and Australia together and we had some laughs, many laughs.

SO, in between I was wheeling around in a maelstrom of marketing mayhem that was the set up for THWL. Meetings were endless and it seemed that any suggestion of ways to get my name out there was up for discussion. All parties had their say and one idea after another thrown into the mix with quite spectacularly disastrous result. There was the whole ‘I Hate Suzanne Rhatigan’ campaign for example.

Only a few pics of the stickers in action survive

It started innocently enough. I sat down with my good friend, writer Neville Farmer. to work on a biography and as we chatted a pattern seemed to form. One unfortunate life event leading to another, one failed demo/band after another. I was a bad girl. A bad girl in school, bad girl at the office bad bad bad. This all sounded like a fun, harmless way of setting me up, you know, the tough rock chic turns out to be not so bad after all. Ok, not such a good idea either and not particularly original, but it was sort of true. However a few sessions around the table at Imago with press and promotion, chairman and VPs, artiste, management and entourage and before you know it the full blown ‘I hate Suzanne Rhatigan’ campaign was in production.

car-sticker-300Thousands of speech bubble stickers with snappy slogans like “Suzanne Rhatigan stole my boyfriend” Suzanne Rhatigan ate my lunch” and on. Yeah how much $5000, sure ca-ching! How about mail them to every radio station, retailer, journalist etc in the US along with the record and some merchandising. Sure! T shirts are boring so how about a few thousand Teddy bears with “Suzanne Rhatigan is a Bitch” T shirts on instead? Yeah, ca-ching. And take out ads in all the music/trade papers, with famous characters on, I don’t know, how about Ghandi with a “Suzanne Rhatigan stole my laundry” speech bubble, yeah that’s funny, isn’t it? yeah. why not. Wait how about, a ticker tape on Times Square every 10 minutes for a week running up to the album release “TO HELL WITH SUZANNE RHATIGAN” etc etc etc $$$ ???? CA-CHING.

Well if a setup like that isn’t going to kill off a record I don’t know what is. As the campaign started heating up I was sick inside. It started sinking in how completely shit it all was. How mortifying. And now to make matters worse I would have to endure hours of interviews and questions, about why everyone hates me so much. What do I do? Explain that no, I’m not really so awful it’s all just a publicity thing wink wink? Or do I live down to my reputation, tell press and radio one or two ‘stories’ about my unfortunate life and act a bit stripy now and again, a bit ‘Prima Donnaish’ so they might believe the hype? And then do what? Play the record? Write about it? Unlikely… Well amazingly thanks to the efforts of one of the best Press Officers in New York, Sandy Sowatka, quite a few people did write about the record and even said quite nice things. But no amount of press is enough to generate the kind of sales Imago needed to break even on this thing, so more drastic measures were necessary!

Money must be spent. And fair play to Terry Ellis he spent money alright. 1st we needed to introduce THWL to the retailers. Very important back in the day when people ‘bought’ records in ‘record shops’, or Walmart and Woolworths or wherever. So… the record company bought a prime slot at the NAMM convention that year, one of the US Music Industry’s most important events. I had 6 minutes to wow the 10,000 strong audience with some songs from THWL kind of mashed together. The band rehearsed the edited songs for several days and boredom had well and truly set in. Matt had taken to playing the last few bars of his guitar solo ala Hendrix, guitar thrust behind his head and out of devilment, while he was in full flow I deftly undid his belt and his jeans slid to the floor. Oh how we laughed particularly Matt who thankfully had reasonably well fitting and clean underwear on that day.

And that should be the end of that little anecdote, but no. Out of this this harmless japery the idea that we should repeat the pantymime during our costly 6 minutes was now on the table for discussion and it kind of snowballed. Here’s where I want to set the record straight. I did not want to do the, unbuckle the belt trick at all and I said so. More than once!

But the hilarity of it all and the ‘potential’, of such a stunt, in a convention situation like this, where every record company in the land was pushing their new product for that year at the retailers, to get everyone talking, about  ‘Suzanne Rhatigan’, the same Suzanne Rhatigan of “Is A Bitch Fame”, and her album, was just too irresistible for the label, the pressure was on… So when my good friend Matt in his easy going ‘let’s do it for the Gipper’ kind of way said he didn’t mind, I acquiesced.

Well we turned up at the convention centre all suited and booted as you might expect and headed on to the stage of the enormous convention centre, with giant screens all around the arena for any delegates unfortunate enough not to have front row seats and we launched into our truncated show. All was going well and the moment of truth was almost upon us… Again I wish to remind you I did NOT want to follow through with the stunt so I left the decision to Matt. We agreed if he put the guitar behind his head then I could assume he was up for it, if not fine. So I glanced at Matt as the moment drew near and he winked, threw the guitar behind his head and walked, guitar hero like into the spotlight. That’s when everything kind of became a bit weird. It was like the stage was made of foam and the moment had a strange slow softness about it. I reached out for Matt’s belt, flipped the buckle open (I’m good at that) and….

Nothing happened…

New jeans!

The bastards were standing up alone and not budging. So thinking on my knees, because for some reason I had dropped to them, I decided to give the jeans a tug.

Nothing…

The last few notes of the solo were ringing round the room when in a last ditch attempt I gave them a yank and low the reinforced steel jeans and brand new red silk boxer shorts gave way, and Matt, his manhood and me on my knees gaping mouth open in horror were broadcast around the convention on giant screens. So no one and I mean no one could miss it.

Matt was needless to say extremely embarrassed and I was horrified. The record company on the other hand were over the moon. A small price to pay, dignity, for the promotion we got. Everyone knew who Suzanne Rhatigan was that day. Thankfully Matt being the professional he is and the friend and ally I was so in need of, recovered himself and though I’m sure he would rather not think about it, he’s pretty much over it now, though I’m not sure I am!

While having a long overdue chat with the man himself recently about ‘Pantigate’ and my plans to write about it, Matt gave me his blessing. “On the plus side” he said “I haven’t had the naked on stage dream since!”

I love you Matt Backer hope we hang out together again soon.

PS: I promise not to pull your pants down!

PPS: I did transfer this recording from 24 track and remixed it. I tried to re do the vocal as I remember struggling to sing through laryngitis that day and I hear it in every note. However I couldn’t improve it. Some things are better left in the past…

Vocals Suzanne Rhatigan
Guitar Matt Backer
Piano George Laks
Bass Jack Daley
Drums Julius Klepacz
Violin Deni Bonet
Backing Vocals Suzanne Matt and Deni

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35 The Further In We Go

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35. The Further In We Go

S Rhatigan

I’ve no one else to blame really. I think back to me circa 1991-1993 I can see why it didn’t really work out. I’m ok with it now but I was all over the place then…

It was a long time coming, my 1st record deal. Having sung backing vocals on so many hit records for other artists and served my time as the support act, I was starting to think I would always be the bridesmaid and never the bride! Until that fateful day my friend Neville Farmer asked me to put him + 1 on the guest list for a gig I was playing at the Borderline in London. After my set he came bounding over with his friend Kate Hyman.

Kate is a force of nature, she has as much if not more charisma than the many artists and bands she has signed and nurtured over the years. She was so different from any A&R (mostly) men I had encountered in London and I was blown away. She was full of energy and unbridled enthusiasm telling me I reminded her of an old school friend who was always in trouble. We hit it off straight away and happily for me she had just taken the job as head of A&R at a brand new American label and she was determined to sign me up despite the fact that I had been either overlooked or turned down flat by most major labels in the UK. She had a vision for me and for Imago and that was that.

The Imago Recording Company, to give it its full title, was based in New York and so was I for the duration. I should have been thrilled about that, the opportunity to live all expenses paid in NYC is quite something, but alas instead of embracing the whole experience, I was mired in anxiety. I felt a bit of a sham really, there I was hobnobbing with the crème de la crème of hip NY musicians and producers and I was overwhelmed. I wasn’t able to join in the banter with the lads, chuck around cool references. I couldn’t name the nose flute player on every obscure alternative release since 1962 and such. I hadn’t heard of half the records and bands that I apparently should have known. I wasn’t able to communicate in their language use references they could understand and instead of holding my hands up and letting go of the reins I held tight to my vision, which I couldn’t properly articulate. I bluffed my way through the recording sessions believing that if I let on I didn’t know what I was doing, which of course I didn’t, it would be a disaster, which if you think of it in terms of – the record cost quarter of a million to make and recouped a miniscule fraction of that- it probably was!

To Hell With Love was a mish mash of styles and influences. Alternative rock attitude coming from producer Fred Maher (Lou Reed, Scritti Polotti) and the musicians he brought in Mathew Sweet, Drew Vogleman and Robert Quine, along side legendary funk master Bernie Worrell and my old friends from London guitarist Matt Backer and drummer Martyn Barker who contributed a r& b element. Then of course me with my mainly pop background dragging everything into the centre and over singing in way I hardly recognise today.

I know I know, I’m probably committing a cardinal sin now confessing that I didn’t really think the record worked, even then. I certainly don’t wish to alienate or offend the people who worked on To Hell With Love or those who bought and enjoyed it, in fact it is as a result of some recent correspondence I’ve had from people around the world who want to get hold of copies to replace lost ones, that prompted me to give it another listen and upload this song.

The Further In We Go is without a doubt my favourite song on the album. It’s a straight ahead R&B ballad. No harm there. I still love the feel of the track and the dry vocal sound which I still favour, also some very expensive but rather nice string arrangements. Yeah I think it holds up pretty well.

You know, despite the many terrible decisions I made professionally and personally at that time, my only real regret is that I should have been having the time of my life, and instead I spent most of my time crying into answerphones thousands of miles away. I was pretending to be someone I wasn’t to impress people who were pretty much indifferent to me and I was trying too hard, and ultimately failing so hard to make the record I had dreamed of making for so long. Thing is, if I had it all to do again would it be any different?

still-further-in-we-go_300pixel

Ok, searching for a pic to upload for this tune I found this, a still taken from the 1st Video shoot to promote the song. Yes the 1st! Some crazy decisions were made, mostly by me and stupid money spent after stupid money. The 1st video was a typically ludicrous over ambitious idea (I had) of doing a mock time lapse ageing process from childhood to old age complete with full prosthetic makeup. This shot was one of the few in the video where I looked like myself. Well I say looked like myself I mean an expensively coiffed and made up version of myself. The haircut cost $500 alone! The rest of the video I look ridiculous. Thankfully I don’t have a copy of it to show you!

I assume the generally unflattering 1st video prompted the making of a second which also proved overly ambitious relying on my bad acting skills to carry off a pretty weak narrative, (my idea again!) performed directly to camera ala Peep Show, though more than a decade earlier and not funny! Cringe… No copies to hand of that either thankfully. Do let me know if you have any, before you put them in a bin and set fire to them. X

Suzanne Rhatigan Vocals
Mathew Sweet Bass
Matt Backer Guitar
Martyn Barker Drums
Howie Wyeth Hammond organ
Biti and Suzanne Backing Vocal

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34. Suicide Song

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Post 12 Bar Blues…

I have a lot to thank the 12 Bar Club for and particularly the clubs promoter Andy Lowe whose commitment to great music and talent underpinned the club and it’s community for the best part of 20 years. However it was Phil Ryan who booked me to play for the 1st time on the opening night of the newly reinvented club, formerly folk venue The Forge. The history of the club on Denmark Street ‘Tin Pan Alley’ bang in the heart of the west end of London is the stuff of legend. It’s a story I feel privileged to have been a part of with my Cushy Productions night.

It was also Phil who offered me the chance to run my own night at the club once a month as a residency for me and my band, allowing us to experiment with new material and showcase other bands we liked for more than 8 years. There was a succession of promoters after Phil moved on who stuck by us; Madge, Richard, Allan, and of course Andy.

12-bar-bandx300pxlI should also thank the various owners of the club, who on more than 1 occasion had their backs to the wall to keep the place afloat. In particular, Andy Preston and Lars Erickson who set up the club with a very well stocked vodka bar as I recall which went down very nicely with the many musicians and West End revellers who hung out there till dawn. Unfortunately the business model,  resulted in them giving away more of the vodka than they sold and was fundamentally flawed. That and the battles with Camden Council over the licence meant the club had to run as a private members club. It was a farce really. Just in case the club was spot checked, everyone entering had to ‘join’ the club, fill out an application and be given a membership card. It was a royal pain in the ass. but eventually during Carlo’s tenure, the licence was sorted and the club, as a bone fide music venue, really started to take off.

Rhatigan the band grew up and evolved on those Thursday nights. The residency gave us the chance to try new songs and ideas and since it felt like a home from home, we had a very relaxed approach to our sets. Sometimes a bit too relaxed! We probably played some of our best gigs on that tiny stage but unfortunately probably also played some of our worst!

12-bar_02x300pxlMy over riding memories of the Cushy nights were the people who came and supported us. Karen, Scott, Mark… ok I’m not going to mention every single person but there was a hard core group that kept us going, no doubt about it. And of course the many wonderful bands and solo artists who kept the Cushy nights vibrant and exciting. If you hit the link to the Cushy Productions website you can browse through the monthly blog I uploaded and emailed out at the time to promote the night. It covers the period from Christmas 2002 back to Christmas 2000 though I’m sure the blog and email outs go back a good few years prior to 2000 but they appear to have disappeared from the site. Hardly surprising since it hasn’t been maintained in 12 years and was a very DIY website to begin with,  Before I, belatedly, embraced technology the promotion for the night was all done by hand. Hours splicing and pasting flyers and posters and fortunes spent on stamps. Jesus when I think of it! Actually thinking about it makes me very happy. Those were definitely some of the best years of my life.

So now it’s gone. Along with so many Tin Pan Alley institutions. Music shops, publishers bars and clubs all gone in the name of ‘progress’. Why is heritage, particularly the legacy of the great live music venues and the music they promote and nourish so underappreciated so cheaply thrown away. Maybe it’s always been that way or maybe it’s just another symptom of the disease attacking the fundamental status of music and musicians. Are we a dying breed destined to become extinct, to be replaced by what?

No I don’t believe it. It will not happen. As long as a single human voice can express itself through music live in a room for other humans to listen to then live music will play on. Keep going to live gigs there are so many great bands and artists to see and hear. It’s time for the next generation of promoters and musicians to carry the baton, to stand up for the venues. To find new venues. It’s time to tap into that far too long undervalued resource of real music played by real people. I for one fully intend to play on regardless….

I’ve been wracking my brains trying to think of a tune to upload in honour of the 12 Bar and for some bizarre reason one song keeps popping up…

34. Suicide Song

S.Rhatigan/ J F Morrison ©1998

I can’t believe I’m uploading this. I can’t believe I wrote the song in truth and yet here it is. Suicide Song was our last song of the night on the Cushy nights at the 12 Bar. It was the last one after the last encore had been extracted from the last die hard regulars at 2 or 3 in the morning. I briefly toyed with the idea of releasing it on an EP with Stabbed and Till the Morning Comes under the Death EP title, but that one really never got off the drawing board unlike the others which you could say sort of fell off the drawing board onto the floor.

WARNING Do not try this at home.

Suzanne Rhatigan Vocals, Guitar synth…

John Morrison Bass…

Paul Murphy Drums…

 

PS the picture accompanying this post is one of my favourite Rhatigan photos at the 12 bar taken by Sarah Light. It is Bryn playing drums in the picture though not on the track. Unfortunately I have no photos of Paul playing with us at the 12 Bar or anywhere. If anyone has any please let me know xxxx

 

http://www.cushyproductions.com/html/gigs.htm

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33. Big Stick

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33. Big Stick
S.Rhatigan/ J F Morrison ©1998

When do the bullied become the bullies?  At what point do you decide to turn the tables take control and choose to hit back, not walk away.

big-stick-front-grey_300x300pxlBig stick is a meditation on power and abuse.  It’s not difficult for me to tap into the vein of hurt and anger running through my life.  I don’t think anyone lives such a charmed existence they’ve never suffered at the hands of another to one degree or another. I’m lucky to have music and song writing to escape to and exorcise my demons through, and I quite enjoy letting my imagination explore any possible outcomes.  It is possible to dwell in the dark corners of fantasy without actually acting on those fantasies.  Well it works for me!

I wrote the lyric to Big Stick at a time when it felt like control of my life was slipping away.  Rhatigan had come perilously close to breaking through with Late Developer, and we had some great tunes in the bag ready to follow up but after too many knock backs Bryn our drummer decided to call it a day.  It was a major blow and it took several months to find anyone to replace him so unique and important a player he was/is.  We had to let go of that influence and personality and embrace something new.  Derry man Paul Murphy was eventually lured in and his style and personality were so different that the whole sound of the band shifted away from the explosive tight punk energy of Late Developer to the looser rolling groove that is Big Stick

During this period between drummers John and I thought about recording other bands at Cushy.  Darren Hayman was a song writer we had shared a bill with a few times in indie clubs around London.  I loved his blend of witty poignant tales of Christian girls and Grammar school boys and their comings and goings which he was quite preoccupied with at the time.  Anyway Hefner began to come together following a few early sessions recording with us at Cushy with John playing bass and Antony Harding on drums although I think I played drums on a few tunes having taken up the habit while trying to fill the void left by Bryn. Darren soon asked John to play a few gigs which as I recall took some effort on my part to persuade John to do.  I didn’t see the harm.  I simply didn’t consider the real possibility that Hefner’s star would rise so quickly and demand so much of John’s time.

In fact Big Stick was written by John and me with me playing drums, hence the whole ‘big stick’ thing.  John’s pulsing bass line was easy for me to accompany with a loose bump splat vaguely trip hop beat.  I played the song a handful of times solo on drums which was great fun, well fun for me.

I remember a couple of occasions playing Big Stick on drums with mixed results though.  The first time was during a tribute gig for a songwriter friend called Tom Greenwood who had died suddenly, and I was approached by the actor Tim Roth who happened to be in the club.  He was buzzing about the song saying it would be perfect in a movie he was directing at the time called The War Zone.  I duly sent a CD to the address he provided me with, but alas in the great tradition of the 50 Greatest Misses I heard nothing back.

Another unfortunate Big Stick moment occurred on a Cushy night which I ran at the 12 Bar Club.  I was doing a late set solo after the other bands had played and I decided to try Big Stick using the kit belonging to one of the other bands which had been left onstage.  The band in question were a rather over hyped indie 4 piece out of Manchester called Salako whom I had booked to headline.  Anyhow there I am bump splatting away, concentrating hard, eyes shut, pouring my heart and soul into the moment when the lead singer decided he wanted to head back up north, straightaway.  Well the little prick began dismantling the kit mid song which I was oblivious to at first as I was concentrating so hard and I hadn’t noticed the floor tom and a few cymbals had been removed until shouts and jeers from the audience shook me from my reverie. Ever the pro I kept going regardless and I got to end without belting him with my big sticks, but I was pissed off big time.  In the resulting kerfuffle between the band and my loyal Cushy regulars no one but me noticed the scally slipping out to the toilet so I followed behind.  I stood outside the men’s room for a moment and without consciously realizing it I knew what I had to do. In I went firmly shutting the door behind me.  Imagine the surprise on his spotty little face when he saw me approaching him as he tried stuffing his dick midstream back into his pants.  I can assure you I gave him a good tongue lashing at very close quarters. I can still smell the little creep.  Sweet as!

I’ve wanted to upload Big Stick the album for a while but never felt the time was right don’t ask me why I do now.  It’s the whole letting go thing.  Letting go of pain and disappointment letting go of power.  Letting go, not giving in.

www.suzannerhatigan.bandcamp.com

Suzanne Rhatigan Vocals, Guitar…

John Morrison Bass…

Paul Murphy Drums…

 

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