He’d like to come and meet us / But he thinks he’ll blow our mind

New Zealand’s fiery sixties icon, Sandy Edmonds, on a just discovered OZ TV show clip from 1966, doing Bobby Hebb’s Sunny.

To check what she was really capable of, check this garage stormer.

At the top of her game, she disappeared without trace at the end of the sixties, and nobody seemed to know where or what she’d become. The early days of the internet even featured a ‘Where’s Sandy’ site. It wasn’t until the mid-2000s that the mystery was largely solved: she was a designer in Melbourne, Rosalie Edmondson-Corner.

Graham Reid details the journey here.


And they were vaguely contemporaries, but on the other side of the planet and a galaxy apart, however, I would feel remiss if I didn’t mention Ziggy’s 65th year yesterday. There are dozens/hundreds of sites covering it and there is little more I can add, aside from humbly pointing out that the old bugger changed my world forever. And he changed yours even if you don’t know it.

My first serious date was to a school ball in 1973. My girlfriend at the time, the late and missed Jane Wilson, had an Aladdin Sane stripe on her face. When we formed punk bands, Bowie was the conduit that almost everything that initially inspired us – Iggy, Lou and the Dolls – was funnelled via.

This was a man who in 12 months created, co-created Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane, Raw Power and Transformer. He then took a brief breather before inventing post-Apocalyptic rock, for better or worse, Plastic Soul, and offering up an inventive reworking of Krautrock with Eno that helped define the post-punk landscape probably more than any other artist, and thus the audio landscape we live in now.

Every single album he released or worked on between 1971 (we can forgive most of the two albums called simply David Bowie, from 1967 and 1969, although London Boys from the first is a fabulous pointer towards the future) and his last major work before a 90s rejuvenation, Scary Monsters, was a landmark that, as only The Beatles in rock history have also done, changed the way everything of interest was done thereafter.

So happy birthday, David.

65, fucking hell, do I feel really old…

A couple Three vids. The first is a simply wonderful live version of Paul Simon’s America, done in the aforesaid London Boys style, from Paul McCartney’s post 9/11 gig. 1

And, from the last album, Reality:

And finally a 2002 remake of London Boys from the unreleased Toy album:

Edit: one more I’d not seen before, the unbleached original of Life on Mars. This was a hit a couple of years after it was first released, on Hunky Dory, hence the post Ziggy look and imagery on a song that was recorded before Bowie had reinvented himself as the doomed glam icon.

Show 1 footnote

  1. Which incidentally can be found in part in the hugely recommended Love We Make doco directed by the legendary (think Salesman and the killer B&W verité footage in The Beatles First US Visit) Albert Maysles. The DVD allows you to fast forward the awful Jagger and Bon Jovi live bits, plus the finalé. I’d also not realised how little taste Stella McCartney has: she looks like Posh Spice and likes Bon Jovi.

1 Comment

Join the discussion and tell us your opinion.

January 16, 2012 at 07:01 AM

Nothing wrong with the 1969 album, if you’re not totally averse to hippie music. It’s a lot better than most LPs that came out that year.

As for the ’67 record… Sure, it’s generally hated because of the overt Newleyism, and the fact that it doesn’t rock, but it’s not supposed to; it’s a pop record.

Also, I’ve never seen anyone recognise that it’s a concept album; in subject matter it’s not a million miles away from “Tommy” and “Arthur”, but two years earlier.


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