Peter Hammill - The 1973 BBC Session (1973)
A visitor (webbacity, many thx to him, his blog's here), posted in a comment, a link to a bootleg in which there's the BBC session that Peter Hammill recorded (for John Peel) on the 24 July 1973. The sound is quite shitty (he said lo-fi) but not to the point of making these songs unlistenable and honestly, they still provide the intensity and the emotion of the playing. So, here's an addition to the less incomplete BBC sessions posted here some months ago. Miss still some to have the complete and furthermore, an official one would allow to hear them with a better sound quality. But for any Peter Hammill addict as we are some, this is a mandatory testimony. Enjoy it here. In streaming, the song that made Hammill one of my all time favorite singer, "German Overalls". The first (and last) time I was in Germany, the first thing I did was to put this song in my CDplayer and listen to it. The song is about the VDGG disbanding after a disastrous german tour.
German Overalls. Mannheim: rainy Saturday with no money nor friend... only Tequila can end the boredom. Try to reach London for a pocket of hope; we're children, we grope in the dark. Hugh spends his last Mark on coffee and cheese... I feel just like a refugee.... Rathaus-keepers and traffic police, middle-aged maids with rotting teeth, industrial magazines and old Sunday Times: reading material/bleeding lines. What are we doing here? Memorial menace, eager for revenge, has begun to bend our minds. Shower-curtain imperative in the presence of acid; now, feeling placid is death. I try to hold my breath as the P.A. comes down.... here we all are in Ktown! The Big Wheel never fails to grind around... it drags me up/it drugs me down. Seven senses wonder 'Can this be real, Or am I become a performing seal?' Why are we dying here? I walk the streets alone, try to find a sign of love. I've crushed the plaster-bone in the freaky clubs. I have bit the fruit but all I live for is to play and I'm tired of the nights and the days of airports, taxis and motorway showers, groping for a key in the afterhours. David takes to travelling in the van, he knows that we all can understand: we're at the mercy of the Kosmos tour, making a pilgrimage to the German Lourdes... but we're still crippled here. Cathedrals spiral skywards; I think I'm getting vertigo. I think I don't know what is real. One more sudden spotlight; one more madness is over; I must not show a sign of fear. Words echo round my ears, I think I'm going to laugh... think I'll just go and take a bath, guess I'll wash my clothes, don't you know I'll grow to go and make my name, maybe be a servant in the Famegame; stake my sane and rest my life on the line.... Now lay me asunder and rend my mind; at the fall of the curtain let this be my ghost.