The Stormcock Community

Funny how people can be so precious about Roy's intellectual property!  Like most of us I awaited the delivery of Stormcock with a heightened sense of expectation.  Of all the albums I own or have ever owned, Stormcock represents the most powerful artistically, lyrically and from a production perspective.

It isn't surprising that some of us were concerned that the album might lose some of its immediacy or potency going through the re-engineering process but I for one trust Roy's judgement on this matter implicitly so rather than fearing that his advanced years would have altered his creative perception and made the sound more bland or less percussive, I looked forward to listening anew to what the man himself believes the album should sound like.

My copy of the new release arrived on Saturday morning.  It was a little like Xmas or a birthday but all the more poignant because there were other priorities to attend to with she who does not share my enthusiasm!  This meant that Stormcock lay unopened in its plastic wrapper for another eleven hours radiating anticipation like a coffee cup on the french polished dining table and yes, I did almost expect to see a square mark where it lay in its shrinkwrap!

From a graphic design p.o.v. the packaging is a treat and I have only one reservation, that with the fading eyesight of age, I struggled to read the tiny print and had to find my extra strong reading glasses to be able to decipher the glyphs on the pages.  After fulfilling my domestic duties and manufacturing a sensational vegetarian lasagne, I kept slipping into the quiet solitude of my study to read the packaging some more but with my son here from Canada for a fleeting visit and my mother-in-law here too to dine with us, I still didn't have the opportunity to play the Stormcock re-issue!!!

After dinner and coffee and social chit chat, ma-inlaw left to drive home, son decamped to watch mMatch of the Day (not accessible in Toronto) and wifey got on the pc for some instantchitchat whilst I loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up the ketchen chaos of my own making.  All the time I was thinking about playing Stormcock, alooking forward to the moment when I would hear it again afresh.  Chores complete, we were mustered to sit down for a game of Rummy and by this time I was almost at bursting point.

I normally lose at Rummy, basically because I'm not very competitive with card games and simply don't care about winning, just liking the experiance of interacting and engaging in some gentle and infectious banter.  My partner and son are both very competitive and hate to lose.  On this occasion, I played like a demon possessed.  I won every round and maxed out the scoresheet in the shortest possible time, five hands played and 505 points.  The first to five hundred wins in our game.

"Lets have some coffee", says she who cant be refused and "make it that special way with the real coffee", says he who recently emigrated, so I made a litre of pure Columbian Arabica which did little to soften the angst and merely increased my level of anticipation yet further.  We talked some more about the plans for next year and she who doesn't think that humans should fly in aeroplanes because the whole process is more imponderable to her than the impossibility of bee flight, discussed at some length the best way for her, as a flight phobia sufferer to get to Canada by land!

By this time I was noticably fidgetting like a child who needs to visit the bathroom.  The extra strong caffeine in my system had put me in a sweat and I could feel the blood rushing through my veins.  I cleared up coffee cups and after emptying the dishwasher, I stacked them and some remaining pans from the earlier meal into the dishwasher, loaded the soap dispenser and water softener and put away the first load of clean things.

By this time, I was visibly shaking and realised that I needed to relax and chill out.  After a continued conversation about the relative merits of travelling plane or via a sleigh pulled by huskies and getting across to Nova Scotia and Newfoundland via kayak and and than a series of DRL and Greyhound coaches crossing Atlantic coast to Ontario, it was eventually agreed that flying was not only substantially less taxing on the human body but a damn site quicker.  Since I was mentally by this time cruising at 30,000 feet I indulged in smoking a cigarette, quickly followed by another until my son decided that he was tired and wanted to get an early night at 11pm!

My partner and I chatted some more and I eventually managed to load Stormcock re-issue into the stereo system at about 11:25pm.  Armed with the remote controller I settled down in a very comfortable chair with my headphones on ready to hear the judge sitting once again on his great assize!  Zilch, nada, nothing, not a beep or a twang just a big fat zero.  I checked the power from the mains - OK.  I checked the CD was inserted the right way around - OK.  I checked that the stereo system was set to CD and not USB or Phono or even Aux - OK it definitely said CD.  I checked that the volume level was set at an appropriate value - OK.  Still nothing no play no way.

The remote control is a necessary device in the age of the ultra miniature besides which the little 3" by 1" lozenge probably saves a fortune in manufacturing costs from not having external controls on the stereo system itself and I can remember saying to she who has difficulty operating the Video Tape Recorder that a hands free control would be dead easy!  Well more dead than easy for sure.

I started to search for some AA batteries.  When you don't need them, they're everywhere.  They almost fall on top of you, you trip over them but when you really need them, there aren't any.  I racked my brain to remember when we last bought AA's and what they were for.  Oh yes indeedy!  The wifes eclectic toothbrush!  So up to the bathgroom goes I minus the headphones but eldest son is in there with door locked and a curious gargling sound erupting.  I asked him how long he would be.  He replied that he wouldn't be more than a few minutes.  I thought, I can do that!  I can!

Six point seven three four minutes later, son emerges from said bathroom and I locate the wife's orthdontic appliance and remove the said batteries.  Trophies in hand back down the stairs to the comfy chair zone, I replaced the batteries in the remote and don the headphones.  Just as I was about to press the green triangle play button, I heard a beep beep in my left ear as my nice new NHS digital hearing aid lost power.  I don't believe it!!!!

Hearing aid batteries are very small.  The 13ZA type come in little dispensers with orange coloured adhesive tabs because otherwise finger grease can contaminate them, cause oxidation of either the cathode or the anode rendering them unserviceable and necessitating a trip to the all night chemist who charges twice the normal rate for a packet of six than your favourite high street store.  The point about this is that if you are trying to listen to stereo perfection and you're effectively a mono listener, you only get half of the experience and thus half of the enjoyment.  After some very strong deleted expletives and much ferretting about, I eventually discovered a virgin six pack of shiny new 13ZAs that had been lying unused for several months in case of such emergencies at the bottom of a draw containing most of lifes miscellany including hair grips, pens with no ink, fibre tips with no lids and an assortment of small screws and metallic parts that have accumulated and that no one actually knows whence they have come from.

Hearing aid battery installed, I returned to the comfy chair ready to indulge in some personal pleasure, phones on and remote controller once again poised for GO!  Now you may already be ahead of me on this but she who has now decided to retire shouts down from the upper deck, "Have you seen my toothbrush batteries?"  I am undone.  Exposed!  Like George Washington I cannot tell a lie.  I call up, "Hang on a moment, I'll bring you some up.  Thinking fast on my feet, I tried to calculate how long it would take between pressing the play button and the music starting.  I ask myself, "Did Roy anticipate such emergencies and put an extra long lead in to Hors d' Ouvres for just such occasionisms?"  Is there enough time to remove tha batteries from the remote controller and run upstairs to the bathroom, re-install them in the wife's toothbrush, check its working and get back downstairs, get comfy and put the headpnes back on just as the opening chords begin?"  I decide to chance it!

I don't remember the exact moment when I actually fell asleep.  I think it was somewhere during "The Same Old Rock".  Caryl Chessman being duly despatched and the beureaucrats suitably berated.  I just remember waking up and seeing the clock at 03:00AM.  At this point in time, I was too tired, dazed and confused and AA batteryless to start messing around with toothbrushes and retired to bed.  At least I'll be able to look forward to the re-experience tomorrow after shopping and taxi-ing son to the station to catch his train and taking back the shoes that she who has in between sized feet has bought but decided cannot be worn comfortably back to the shop.

Cheers all.