Tuesday, March 20th, 2007
Lyrics, credits, SS biog and links
Leap Of Faith
By DanMingo
Lyrics and credits
Keyboards and vocals: Steve Swindells
Drums: Jon Moss
Guitars: Jerry Richards
Bass: Winston Blissett
All the tracks are good, rough mixes.
All songs registered with MCPS & PRS.
Alien
I sacrificed an alien… I sacrificed an alien… I sacrificed an alien…
I sacrificed an alien, in the shrine of my computer.
My temple was your body, acting out the Kama Sutra.
We made it bacchanalian and lit a magic spark,
but even when I saw the light, you left me in the dark.
Since I set you free
You’re an alien to me.
You wiped out all my memory
You’re an alien to me.
UFO, I FO, EVERYBODY FO FO
(UFO, I FO, EVERYBODY FO FO)
UFO, I FO, EVERYBODY FO FO
(UFO, I FO, EVERYBODY FO FO)
You activated pheromones, released the seratonin,
As I listened to your darkened voice and thought about disowning you.
But something in you held me close, as if you’d hypnotised me.
You wanted me to be a ghost of my former self, unwisely.
Since I set you free
You’re an alien to me.
You wiped out all my memory
You’re an alien to me.
UFO, I FO, EVERYBODY FO FO
(UFO, I FO, EVERYBODY FO FO)
UFO, I FO, EVERYBODY FO FO
(UFO, I FO, EVERYBODY FO FO) X2
I sacrificed an alien… I sacrificed an alien…
Steve G Swindells. © Oct 2001.
Guest Lead guitarist Kit Morgan (he's currently playing with Jethro Tull). Recorded at Christchurch Studios, Clifton, Bristol. Produced by Steve Swindells and John Waterhouse.
Oh My God
Oh my god...I have realised,
I’ve been waiting for this moment to arrive.
Oh my god, I am not paralysed,
but I’m wondering how I ever survived...
Without you, on my god,
I could never find the feeling,
every number would be odd...oh my god...
Without you, I am nearly so alive,
but I know I’ve got to look before I leap.
Oh my god, I would drink then somehow drive,
without testing the water, and the company I keep.
Without you, on my god,
I could never find the feeling,
every number would be odd.
Oh my god, I am falling into even,
could you tell me you’re believing, would you tell me before leaving?
Oh my god - what is going on? Something good and something strong? I really hope so, I really hope so...
Oh my god...I have realised,
I’ve been waiting for this moment to arrive.
Oh my god, I am not paralysed,
but I’m wondering how I ever survived...
Without you, on my god,
I could never find the feeling,
every number would be odd.
Oh my god, I am falling into even,
could you tell me you’re believing, would you tell me before leaving?
Steve G Swindells. 25.11.02.
Recorded at Christchurch Studios, Clifton, Bristol.
Produced by Steve Swindells and John Waterhouse.
Walking On Water
Where did you lead me, why did you take me to this place?
How could you leave me, was it something in my face?
How could you bleed me, where did you go without a trace?
Do you still need me? Take me right on back to bass.
Walking on water.
How do you chase the waves away?
Waiting is torture, you never know when you willl go right back to...
Walking on water.
How do you chase the waves away? Waiting is torture.
You never know when you willl go right back to (walking on water).
You never know when you willl go right back to bass.
Can you still reach me, are you so sure you’ll find a way?
What will you teach me when there’s nothing left to say?
Are you beside me, have you been dancing in the waves?
Jump on and ride me and I’ll take you back to bass.
Walking on water.
How do you chase the waves away?
Waiting is torture, you never know when you willl go right back to...
Walking on water.
How do you chase the waves away? Waiting is torture
You never know when you willl go right back to (walking on water),
You never know when you willl go right back to (walking on water),
You never know when you willl go right back to bass.
I’ll be waiting right down by the shore, I’ll be reaching out to you.
If you gave in you would be here too, and we might just win the race right back to bass...
Walking on water.
Stephen J Meade/ Steve G Swindells (c) 2001
You're Strange
You're no ordinary person
you live in the shadows
and look from the outside
at drama and suicide
You're strange - but don't change
You're strange - but don't change
You're no ordinary person
you like deep situations
with the method of madness
you talk to the other side.
You're strange - but don't change
You're strange - but don't change
You're no ordinary person
you see visions of the future
but the past is your diversion
has the hurt ever really died?
You're strange - but don't change
You're strange - but don't change
Ordinary person, extraordinary person
you take me on excursions through your mind
Ordinary person, extraordinary person
you take away the curse that love is blind
You're strange - but don't change
You're strange - but don't change
Steve G Swindells (c) 2002
It’s All About Oil
Demolition derby going on in my back yard.
Eight to five, it beats my brain, when life is getting so hard.
Home was once a haven, but now I see the ravens
flying through the dusty sky, to drop their calling cards.
It’s all about oil, we are not vegetable,
we’re talking mineral when blood begins to boil.
It’s animal, it’s all about oil.
It’s criminal, so who are you loyal to? Hey you!
Push, push in the bush. Said push, push in the bush.
Repetition hardly took the wind from your sails,
day and night, you’re out of sight - your program never fails.
Sending you a lifeline - pouring through your pipeline.
Wonder if this phoney war might lead to peace of mind?
It’s all about oil, we are not vegetable,
we’re talking mineral when blood begins to boil.
It’s animal, it’s all about oil.
It’s criminal, so who are you loyal to? Hey you!
Push, push in the Bush. Push, push in the Bush.
Hey you - who are you talking to?
Practising your diplomacy with your own brand of hypocrisy.
You’re fighting the hostility of someone’s minor deity,
one man’s meat is poison - who owns your country’s soil?
Hey you! It’s all about oil.
Push, push in the bush. Said push, push in the bush.
It’s animal... vegetable... mineral...
It’s all about oil...
Steve G Swindells. 18.9.02
My Secret Buddha
Going down through the garden
to go barefoot in the sand.
I'll walk and think,
not talk and drink,
run water through my hands.
Going down through the garden
where the star curtain glows.
I'll walk and think,
not talk and drink...
my secret Buddha knows
What I'm going through,
where I am going to,
what I'm gonna do,
will it be with you?
My secret... my secret Buddha. We're gonna do each other good, my secret Buddha.
Going back to a future
where the past is understood.
We'll talk and drink,
then walk and think
and do each other good.
Going back to the present,
pulling thorns out of a rose.
We'll talk and drink,
then walk and think,
my secret Buddha knows
What I'm going through,
where I am going to,
what I'm gonna do,
will it be with you?
My secret... my secret Buddha. We're gonna do each other good, my secret Buddha.
My secret... my secret Buddha. We're gonna do each other good, my secret, secret Buddha.
Steve G Swindells. Koh Samui, Thailand. 8.5.03
Recorded at Cabin Studios Coventry. Produced by Steve Swindells.
Amsterdam
You're asking what is going on, with all this heartache, loss and pain
(is it) punishment for deadly sins and all the hurt you caused again?
And what about the darker forces, different courses you could blame? They live in higher places but their faces have no name.
Amsterdam... just wave your hand,
shine a light across the land.
Amsterdam... it was not planned
just something you now understand was possible and real
and something you still feel. Amsterdam...
You're asking what became of faith, those giant steps that you fell down,
when tears became a waterfall that washed you until you were drowned.
And where are all the phoney healers, cheats and dealers you could blame?
They live in higher places but their faces have no name.
Amsterdam... just wave your hand,
shine a light across the land.
Amsterdam... it was not planned
just something you now understand was possible and real
and something you still feel. Amsterdam...
Steve G Swindells (c) 3.1.02.
Recorded at Christchurch Studios, Clifton, Bristol.
Produced by Steve Swindells and John Waterhouse.
Angel
Angel... angel...
Are you calling, are you falling?
Angel, angel...angel
Lost in another lifetime
you once held all the cards,
Hungry for power and pleasure,
I wonder just how hard.
You were tempting, you were teasing,
devil dancing with the stars - who never knew you.
Then their faces flew away, way hey.
You were waking... and faking every day.
Angel, you fell out of the sky
Are you too dark to be saved?
Angel, you spun your web of lies
Are you coming out to play with me?
So are you, angel? Way hey
Where did you find your saviours -
in crowded, backstage bars?
Praying for bad behaviour
in the backseats of their cars?
Then their faces flew away, way hey,
You were waking... and faking every day.
Angel, you fell out of the sky
Are you too dark to be saved?
Yeah Angel, you spun your web of lies
Are you coming out to play with me?
Angel, you fell out of the sky (way hey)
What's it all about, are your wings all worn out?
Angel, will you ever learn to fly again?
Wake without warning
Then make it through the day
To wild, enchanted evenings
Where spirit knows that laughter pays
Angel, you fell out of the sky. Angel.
You were waking and faking every day, way hey, hey angel, way hey.
You were tempting, you were teasing, you were cheatin' - a yay a yay angel, way hey. You never can say die. Die.
Take me to the mourning time, yeah angel... take me to the mourning, take me to the mourning, angel...
Jerry Richards, Jon Moss,Steve G Swindells, Winston Blissett. (c) 2002.
The Ballad Of The Sad Cafe
The mysterious stranger or the gullable fool? In the school of broken heartbeats, from Brazil to Puerto Rico and Paris in the spring; the things that bring us happiness, the singers in the winds of change - jazz-dancing slowly in the lamplight: any place where there’s lowlife.
Barcelona...Soho... on your own in Mexico: black coffee... always the ballad of the sad cafe.
Always the ballad...of the sad cafe.
Always the ballad...of the sad cafe... cafe.
Where the dark beauty holds the key to bitter-sweet reflections and the fantasies of scenes that might have been, if times had changed. The stranger remains in a pool of light, swimming into mysterious caves to save his love from drowning.
Black, always black, always the ballad, black coffee, black, always the ballad, black, always black, always the ballad of the sad cafe.
Always the ballad...of the sad cafe.
Always the ballad...of the sad cafe.
Always the ballad...of the sad cafe.
Always the ballad...of the sad cafe.
Steve G Swindells © 2001
MORE NOISE
Went down to the village with a pocket full of small change,
checked out all the prisoners, the poets and the deranged.
Walked into a bar and found a smiley conversation.
Talked about unwritten rules of ghetto situations
Wondered why some people wanna make you what they want,
when all we ever needed was the green light - not you can't.
I drank some more then wandered off when everyone went home,
appreciated walking through the lonely streets alone.
More noise for boys, you're dying to go yah yah.
Something tells me three to go and four to show me wah wah.
More noise for boys, more noise, you're dying, you're dying to go yah yah.
Found myself a night bus and a sleazy magazine.
Wondered if the guy behind might see it then turn mean.
Leaned into my head space with a bag of stolen dreams,
then got back to my own place with some sense of self esteem
Turned the lights down low and burned a CD of my thoughts
into those pictures of my playground - some were hot and some were nought.
Somewhere there was pleasure and maybe something more,
a hint of darker secrets, all that's fair in love and war.
More noise, for boys, you're dying to go yah yah.
Something tells me three to go and four to show me mwah mwah.
More noise for boys, more noise.
You're dying, you're dying to go yah yah.
I try to sleep then toss and turn the facts into pulp fiction,
to places where the case is for mad love and addiction.
Don't wanna wake, don't wanna make the same mistakes again.
The past is just a time machine, the future is your friend.
More noise, for boys, you're dying to go yah yah.
Something tells me three to go and four to show me blah blah.
More noise for boys, more noise. You're dying, you're dying to go yah yah.
Steve G Swindells (c) 17.4.02
Recorded at Christchurch Studios, Clifton, Bristol. Bass: Otto Williams. Backing vocals: Mooz.
Produced by Steve Swindells and John Waterhouse.
Fifteen Seconds
You're watching your TV thinkin' 'That should have been me.'
Devouring every tabloid since they told you we were android.
Then ringing radio stations seeking fame and denegration,
you're a star at karaoke but you never do the Hokey Kokey...
Drop, drop, drop dropping.
It's the game of the name and the name of the game.
Drop, drop, drop, drop dropping.
It's the name of the game and the game of the name...
Seconds.... it's fifteen seconds now.
Whatever Warhol said, you are better off instead
in fifteen seconds. Just kill 'em dead, in fifteen seconds. Just kill 'em dead.
You're taking to the highroad in a 4-wheel-drive-by limo,
A demon on the road to ruin, never winding down your windows.
Changing rooms and faces in a movie made on credit,
Always so dependable, you know they just won't geddit.
Drop, drop, drop dropping.
It's the game of the name and the name of the game.
Drop, drop,, drop dropping.
It's the name of the game and the game of the name...
Seconds.... it's fifteen seconds now.
Whatever Warhol said, you are better off instead
in fifteen seconds. Just kill 'em dead, in fifteen seconds. Just kill 'em dead.
You spin out your relations to the public while you're shining
It's really not your baggage, someone else's you're refining.
With a global short attention span, you sound your bite then you're the man
with a fifteen second burning fuse, you use and reap, then burn and lose.
In fifteen seconds...
Steve G Swindells, Jon Moss, Jerry Richards & Winston Blissett (c) 28.2.02
Recorded at Christchurch Studios, Clifton, Bristol.
Produced by Steve Swindells and John Waterhouse.
------------------------------------------
Extra track: Just Steve and a Steinway Concert Grand piano.
I Feel No Pain
You lived up to expectations when you walked out of my life.
I accept your resignation, it won’t cut me like a knife.
All that hatred that you harbour may not be pointed at me,
but as your attitude got harder, I just had to set you free.
I feel no pain.
You cannot hurt me.
I am invisible,
dancing naked in the rain.
I feel no pain.
You cannot touch me.
I am invisible.
I am a warrior again...
I feel no pain. I feel no pain.
How could love be so opressive when I gave you everything?
You would never be expressive, mostly cold and questioning.
Too much blood was spilling, but the spirit never died.
Tell me what did all the killing - all your anger and your pride?
I feel no pain.
You cannot hurt me.
I am invisible,
dancing naked in the rain.
I feel no pain.
You cannot touch me.
You are a warrior, I'm in the wilderness again...
I feel no pain. I feel no pain.
Steve G Swindells (c)2003
Proced by John Waterhouse and Steve Swindells at Christchurch Studios.
Posted By DAnMingo @ 8:24 PM
Friday, March 16th, 2007
Steve Swindells' Biography.
Steve Swindells’ blog biog.
Born 21.11.1952. Ipswich, England.
Died… TBC.
Steve grew up in the Bath/Bristol area and briefly attended The West Of England College Of Art before dropping out to join local band Squidd (http://www.rodneymatthews.com),playing keyboards and singing backing vocals. The band toured extensively in the obligatory Transit van, supporting bands such as Deep Purple, Wishbone Ash, David Bowie (actually the van broke down, so they never made their slot, but got to see Bowie performing Ziggy Stardust live at the end of Torquay pier), Slade, Roxy Music, Black Sabbath and many more. They also appeared on some obscure TV show on BBC Bristol in ‘72 in which Mr Swindells wore football boots, fish-net stockings, sequined knickers, a black cloak and an afro wig whilst playing his colourful Farfisa organ!
Having moved to London to live in a squat in Camden in ‘73, Steve landed his first music publishing deal with Chappell Music (now Warner Chappell) and his first solo record deal as a singer/songwriter with RCA, which resulted in the album Messages, which is now something of a collectors item. It is not, however, particularly noteworthy, due to the dreadful production by Mark Edwards, who was a posh, gay, alcoholic junkie who was obsessed with Steve (who was not exactly ugly) and who was also a violent, control freak. Edwards’ constant advances and alcohol and drug-fuelled, violent outbursts were spurned and Steve was kidnapped from his evil clutches by his best friends Tim Clark (RIP) and Tim’s then girlfriend Caroline Guinness, after Edwards had blown Steve’s deal with RCA by sweeping everything off the managing director’s desk with his umbrella in a drunken/druggy rage. Steve’s second album ‘Swallow’ was therefore shelved. WELL DONE Mark (the words ‘karma’, ‘bastard’ and ‘die’ spring to mind), but Steve does possess what is possibly the only surviving copy - a test pressing with a printed label. Could be worth a few quid one day! On hearing of his plight, Steve’s amazing mum Audrey jumped on a train to London from Bath, grabbed Steve’s copy of his management ‘contract’, went straight to a solicitor and he was reassured that it was totally invalid and not worth the paper it was written on. So fuck you Gandalf!
In ‘76, after a couple of years of abject poverty, Steve landed the job of keyboard player in the hugely successful band Pilot, who’d had number one singles with the songs Magic and January. This was because his friend Billy Lyall (formerly with The Bay City Rollers) had decided to leave Pilot and had recommended Steve for the job. He suddenly found himself being picked-up from his bedsit in Notting Hill by limo to perform in front of thousands of screaming girls and to record the album Three’s A Crowd (produced by Alan Parsons) in Abbey Road, Studio Two (where some obscure group called The Beatles had been known to record occasionally. They even named one after the studio!). Unfortunately, this was to be Pilot’s swan song.
Sadly, Billy Lyall died from AIDS in the mid-eighties. A large number of Steve’s close friends, lovers and acquantances also died from AIDS. Thank god for the combi drugs of these last few years - enough grief already.
In ‘78, Steve’s best girl friend Caroline Guinness found herself running the office of the management company who looked after Motorhead and Hawkwind, amongst others. Hawkwind needed a keyboard player, so Steve went to audition in Devon, got the job on the spot and went straight into recording the ‘Hawklords’ album ‘Twenty Five Years On’ with them, which was followed by a major UK tour. Steve left the band in late ‘79 because they no longer had a record deal and had no money. He subsequently discovered that Dave Brock (the self-appointed main-man of the band) had mixed loads of secretly recorded ‘jam sessions’ and had released them as tracks by himelf or under various pseudonyms on albums on obscure, indie labels. Classy! All written and performed by you were they Dave? One does not think so. Steve was at least able to get his bona fide 100% writing credits for ‘Shot Down In The Night, which he wrote for Hawkwind and which has appeared on loads of Hawkwind CDs. Steve’s version on his 1980 album ‘Fresh Blood’ is waaay harder, more dramatic and simply better than Hawkwind’s version.
Slight rewind…. in ‘79, Steve had recorded some demo’s with Simon King (drums), Hugh Lloyd Langton (guitar) and Nic Potter (bass) and was taken to New York for his first visit by an Italian Count (as you do). Caroline Guinness was by now running the offices of Trinifold, the management company that looked after The Who. Steve phoned Bill Curbishley - the boss of Trinifold - when he arrived in New York, to ask him to ‘open a few doors’ for him, and was signed to Atco/WEA by Doug Morris, the president of the company, within three days (Morris is now president of Universal Music) for a massive sum of money… on paper. Trinifold then took on Steve’s management. David Bowie (himself), Bruce Springsteen’s and Meatloaf’s producers all offered to produce the album but Steve ended-up producing it himself (were the mega-producers’ fees too high?) at Sawmills Studio in Cornwall. It was re-mixed by Bill Price, who’d worked extensively with one of Steve’s favourite bands, The Clash. Entitled ‘Fresh Blood’, it was released worldwide in 1980 and garnered rave reviews internationally and reached number three in the US airplay charts in its second week of release, with no marketing at all. Why was there no marketing and a publicity blitz on the back of such a massive radio response? The word ‘useless’ springs to mind. Unfortunately, the following week was also the US radio ‘ratings period’, so the album subsequently sank without trace and that was that, apart from Roger Daltrey recording four of Steve’s songs over three of his solo albums in the next few years. Steve’s option with Atco was not taken up, which, strangely, coincided with him being dropped by Trinifold managment, despite having recorded some excellent demo’s with what was to later become the legendary Live Aid rythmn section (from Big Country), and Simon (Pete’s brother) Townsend on guitar. Nice.
So, totally disillusioned with the music mafia (although he never stopped writing and recording songs), Steve decided to become a club promoter, having visited the Gargoyle Club at 69 Dean Street in London’s Soho on several, memorable occasions in ‘82 and ‘83. This was a hotbed of visionary, ground-breaking, one-night clubs like The Language Lab, The Mud Club, The Batcave, The Dirt Box, The Comedy Store and Steve’s very own Lift Club, which opened there in late ‘83 with DJs Mel and John Richards. The Lift was the first-ever gay club in the UK to play streety, black music to a genuinely mixed black/white/gay/male/female/funky crowd and it became a major success story, evolving into a legendary landmark throughout the ’80s, ending up at The Embassy club in ‘89.
Steve soon teamed-up with Kevin Millins (who promoted the wildly successful Asylum club night at Heaven) to bring their quintissential one-nighter Jungle to the world in late ‘83. This was held at Busby’s (now Mean Fiddler 2) on Charing Cross Road every Monday and was an instant hit, attracting more than a thousand people every week, with Kiss FM’s Colin Favor and the infamous Fat Tony on the decks (in his first-ever, proper, long-term DJ job). Jungle became another benchmark of gay/mixed, 80’s cool and attracted a whole host of artists, pop stars, media-types, fashionistas and movers n’ shakers including Culture Club, Frankie Goes To Hollywood, Vivienne Westwood, Bronski Beat, Mica Paris, Sade, Erasure, Dylan Jones, Sheryl Garrett, Pam Hogg, Robert Elms, Steve Strange, Marilyn, Paul Gambaccini, MP Chris Smith, Peter Tatchel, Marc Almond, Jellybean Benitez, John Maybury, Leigh Bowery, Bernstock & Spears, Rifat Ozbek, Jonathan Ross (his wife-to-be Jane used to be Fat Tony’s record box carrier, so she could get in free… under-age!), John Galliano, Mark Moore, Jean-Paul Gaultier, The Pet Shop Boys, New Order and many more. Even Janet Jackson came once, but no-one recognised her. And the ‘Indian’ from The Village People once tried to pick-up Steve there. Was that the ultimate, gay-ghetto accolade? No. Ironic maybe, but Jungle didn’t DO gay ghetto - that was the whole point. Then there was that triumphant Dusty Springfield tribute show by Fat Tony. A benchmark in, erm, most-podern ronicy!
Anyway, where were we? Yep, Jungle was also the first club in London to play deep house music from the underground, black, gay clubs of Chicago in ‘85. The night ran successfully until ‘89, when it moved to The Rex Club in Paris every Friday for a year (that’s a whole story in itself), only to close when Steve and Kevin terminated their business partnership. Musical differences, naturally…
Their company, The Pure Organisation, was also responsible for Bad, which was a huge success every Friday in Heaven’s Soundshaft in the late 80s/early 90s. The DJs were Vicki Edwards and the late, lamented Breeze, playing soulful, funky, vocal house and NYC-style garage to a wildly enthusiastic, mixed crowd. Vicki is currently resident at that most excellent and long-running institution Queer Nation.
The Pure Organisation also organised parties; Prince, Madonna, Warner Music, The Face and Time Out magazines were amongst their clients. Prince’s after-show Love Sexy parties, Time Out’s 25th and The Face Magazine Party in The Limelight (before it opened) were particularly fabulous. Ask anyone who was there.
Back in ‘85, Steve had embarked on another innovative project called Downbeat in a tiny piano bar in Soho’s Frith Street. This was a jam session for singers and musicians, with Eric Robinson on the piano (because he knew millions of songs) and Jon (Culture Club) Moss on the bongos! Steve used to just do a bit of improv on the piano to warm things up. It was the first of its kind and people - many of them seriously well-known - got up and spontaneously sang soul, pop, dance, reggae, funk, (black) showtune or jazz classics. It was packed every thursday. It then moved to the larger Dakota Bar at Heaven for a while, before upscaling yet again to the Wag Club (where the entire Whitney Houston Band joined the jam one memorable night), then found its spiritual home at Browns, the celebrity haunt in Covent Garden, where it packed ‘em in until the club burnt down in ‘89 (?). George Michael rarely missed a night there, (although he never sang with the band) and the entire Stevie Wonder band amazed the crowd by jamming one night - whilst Mr Wonder listened. Other regular performers and visitors included Mica Paris, Victoria Wilson James and Kim Mazelle from Soul II Soul, Juliet Roberts, Taka Boom, Sarah-Jane Morris, Angie Brown, Mary Pearce, Leee John, De La Soul, Alexander O’Neal, Chaka Khan, Jimi Sommerville, Stephen Dante, Robert Owens and many more. The concept then got copied by other promoters, so Steve upped the ante by re-naming the jam session Groove and moving it to Sunday nights at WKD in Camden, where the mantra was ‘No known songs allowed’. In other words, the band and the singers had to make up songs on the spot, so it was totally unpredictable, entertaining and exciting. GROOVE was an instant success and soon switched to the Friday night, where it was packed every week for over three years.
Following a song-writing sojourn in the West Country, Steve returned to London in ‘95 wearing a new hat - as a journalist. He wrote the internet column for Time Out magazine under the name Spyder from ‘95 until ‘99. He also wrote the Sidelines gossip column for TO on a few occasions. This led to him writing a lifestyle/gadget column (well, they asked) for Attitude magazine. He then became the editor of Attitude Interactive, the online version of Attitude magazine, in ‘97.
Fast-forward>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Steve has been recording extensively over the last few years with his band DanMingo, which features him on keyboards and vocals, Jon Moss on Drums, Winston Blissett on bass and Jerry Richards on guitar. He also collaborated with Jerry on his Earthlab/Element album, co-writing and singing four songs, and with various other talented singers and writers on other projects.
Both Steve and guitarist Jerry played at the sold-out ‘Hawkestra’, Hawkwind reunion concert at The Brixton Academy in October 2000. Unfortunately, financial goal-posts were moved, as it were, both before and after the concert. Steve therefore spirited both the audio and video recordings (which he’d mostly organised) into the hands of lawyers, where they remain to this day, until a democratically-agreed financial game plan for the release of the CD and DVD of the show is reached. The show included Moterhead’s Lemmy on several songs and a drunken Samantha Fox destroying some Hawkwind classics. God knows why she was invited to participate; her involvement was a disaster. But most of the concert is a classic display of how a bunch of old fuckers can pull punky space magic out of a hat.
In December, 04, Daniel (Popstars - The Rivals/One True Voice) Pearce sang Steve’s song ‘I Feel No Pain’ at The Royal Albert Hall with The Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra and The London Community Gospel Choir at The Voices For Darfur benefit concert, organised by the UNHCR. This is now out on DVD on EMI (available on Amazon, hint hint). Please buy the DVD (it’s a fantastic concert) to directly help the cruelly displaced people of Darfur.
There’s loads more (one never even mentioned the wild, all-night, illegal Lift warehouse parties in Shoreditch and Bermondsey in ‘84 and later, before anyone else had thought of such a thing), but that’s enough to be going on with for now.
DanMingo are currently rehearsing with the idea of doing some low-key London gigs.
Steve is also involved creatively with:
www.myspace.com/earthlab
www.myspace.com/bridget-j-w
www.myspace.com/nonwon
www.myspace.com/spilldefined
Contact Steve by leaving a comment to this blog, or leave a message on www.myspace.steveswindells.
Cheers & Peace
Or is that peace and cheers?
Posted By DAnMingo @ 1:29 PM
Thursday, March 15th, 2007
SteveSwindells' extra creative links.
www.myspace.com/wickedunclewoo
www.myspace.com/kazeproductions
www.myspace.com/sinfallpoet
www.myspace.victoriawilsonjames
Posted By DAnMingo @ 11:45 PM
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