Wednesday, 11 October 2017

Laughter With A Bang: Blaster Bates - Big Ben Records 1967

I once had a go at a friend of a friend for telling me he'd never heard of Patti Smith. This wasn't something that came from me out of the blue, he had set himself up in conversation as a self confessed 'authority' on popular music and was pontificating on what he believed were the 'all time classic  albums'. When I mentioned Smith's 'Horses' as a contender that he'd overlooked, he gave me the blank look of a dog staring at a smart phone which I in turn met with (admittedly over egged) hoots of derision. "Call yourself a music fan but never heard of 'Horses'? Pfffffft".
 
"But just because you've heard of something doesn't mean everybody should have" he argued back. And true enough up to a point, but my own point was that he'd set himself up as an authority who was now confessing he'd never even heard of one of the key figures of Twentieth Century popular music, let alone her oeuvre. This was not something I could let pass, as far as I was concerned this was no different to a football 'authority' telling me they'd never heard of Maradona. I wouldn't necessarily expect them to be able to reel off his strike rate, the clubs he'd played for or the name of his children - just having heard of him and the fact he was Argentinean would have been enough. Similarly, I wasn't expecting my own 'music authority' to necessarily be able to reel off Smith's albums, singles and lyrics by rote; just having head of her and her album 'Horses' (which has regularly appeared on every critic sourced 'all time albums' list almost since it was released) would have been enough. For me anyway.

I've set out the above by way of background to this current album and ,I suppose, to own up to a certain level of hubris. You see, when I first picked this up from the box I had no idea I was holding an album that had been certified gold or that the man behind it had enjoyed no small fame in his time and had his 2006 obituary carried by The Telegraph, The Guardian, The Independent and the BBC. Frankly, I'd never even heard of Blaster Bates, let alone knew what he was famous for and in truth I was struggling to make sense of what I was actually looking at. With that front cover image of Bates looking alarmingly like a cross between John Wayne and Nye Bevan and a back cover note telling me: "Blaster Bates has  become a household name in the Midlands and North of England, for not only does he enjoy the reputation of being Britain's leading professional  demolition expert - but by virtue of his prodigious extrovert sense of humour  and an almost inexhaustible supply of stories about his exploits he has  become a unique entertainer" then for all the world it looked like some kind of piss take, a Monty Python spoof made flesh.

Only it's not. It's genuine; this is a live, spoken word comedy record of a professional dynamiter's shaggy dog anecdotes of the buildings he's blown up. Not only that, the 'Volume One' on the cover isn't kidding - this was apparently the first in a series of eight other volumes (others include '1001 Gelignites', 'TNT For Two', 'Gelly Babe' and 'Blastermind' - you get the picture) which would seem to offer plenty more of the same*. But again, I'd never heard of him. No doubt a 'Blaster Bates' fan would look at me, a self confessed vinyl (and, let's be honest, comedy) fan sideways for my ignorance of an act who had shipped gold (that's at least 100,000 copies) in the same way I'd looked sideways at the poor bloke above. I'd like to say it will teach me not to be so judgemental, but it probably won't though I will take the lesson on board in my own quiet way.

Anyway, whatever - I have heard of him now and I've also heard this album and, as with all comedy albums, the $64,000 question is 'is it funny'? And I'm aware that a degree of caution must be applied as one man's humour is another man's blank, dog stare incomprehension. All I can do is report from my own perspective and, on that front, the answer has to be 'not really' - where the back cover says Bates 'will provide exhilarating entertainment for nearly all the family', I'm afraid it must have been me they had in mind with that subgroup. 
 
There's no doubt there's plenty of scope in Blaster's tales for humour, and stories like the time he was hired to clear out a farm's septic tank using explosives (called "The Shower of Shit Over Cheshire" here) might have been funnier if he'd stuck to the point, but Bates has an annoying tendency to ramble in the telling of his tales and the frequently veers off piste like Ronnie Corbett in his chair but without the charm or erudition. Bates has a habit too of using his broad Cheshire accent as both a crutch and a tool to prise cheap laughs from a partisan home crowd (this was apparent recorded live at a meeting of the Congleton Round Table); he only has to say 'bugger' or 'shit' for the crowd to collapse into laughter like a house of cards in a draught. Such talk may have been nearer the knuckle in 1967, but it hasn't aged well and any edge it once had has long since been blunted and it makes this more of a time capsule curio than something worth tracking down on its own merits.


* Though volume 8 is called 'Hunting & Shooting Stories'; clearly, the demolition game is not a bottomless well of humorous stories.

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