Even the current plethora of plainchant and "faith minimalism" could be construed as part of the same infatuation with the religiose which long ago brought us Master Ernest Lough singing "Oh for the Wings of a Dove" - a dulcet strain itself flying high in the charts once more as part of the television-prompted compilation The Choir.As last Saturday's programme reminded us, that still leaves the rather more ominous portent of Adiemus: Songs of Sanctuary. Indeed, this would seem the only plausible explanation for the success of Michael Nyman who, whatever his sources somehow always contrives to reduce them to a pulsating sub- baroque. Again, the Three Tenors phenomenon is surely but the latest reincarnation of a popular taste for Italianate vocalism that dates back at least as far as Caruso and McCormack.The popularity of baroque, whether at breakfast or whenever, is another story that has run since the 1950s, when the rediscovered Vivaldi was first adopted as the muzak of the intelligentsia. Yet the ubiquity of compilation discs suggests that the pot-pourri still reigns supreme - though it would scarcely have occurred to Newman and his successors in the music appreciation movement to assemble items under such mood categories as "Tranquillity" or to entitle their promotions Turbo Classics. Exactly a century ago, Robert Newman founded the Proms on the pot-pourri principle: a mix of light classics and pops that was intended gradually to lead its audience on to higher things. But it would be interesting to know how all this reflects the personal tastes of Mr Gambaccini, who has, after all, often been credited with having "made" that Gorecki symphony of a couple of years back.Even more interesting, however, are the apparent preoccupations of popular "classical" taste as revealed week by week Certain of them should hardly surprise us. As if obliquely to ease its conscience, Classic Countdown does intersperse a listeners' request "encore" slot, and some up-and-coming "bubblers" - including a weekly "sure shot" chosen by Robert Cowan of Classic FM's other, more genuinely exploratory record review, the Friday evening Classic Verdict.
So Classic Countdown concentrates essentially on sales, with the current top five compilation discs revealed in the first hour, the 15 most lucrative individual titles in the second and third, and a combined ordering right at the end. The source of the sales-figures is not explained but presumably they originate from the programme's sponsor, W H Smith. It might be mildly protested that if one were looking for a disc of lesser-known Bach Cantatas or the complete works of Webern, one would hardly expect to find them in a Smith subsidiary such as Our Price. But the fount of all niceness has to be the gentle, laid-back transatlantic burr of Paul Gambaccini, who contrives to sustain sweetness and light through the entire three-hour span of Classic Countdown each Saturday morning by the simple expedient of refraining from any information, commentary or judgement of the slightest musical interest whatever. Maybe the programme's original planners felt there was no point in directly challenging Radio 3's evergreen Record Review..
For who could object to the persistent delusion of Classic FM's late-evening linkman, Michael Mappin, that Richard Strauss wrote an opera entitled The Loves of Diana, or to Quentin Howard assuring a failed participant in the Saturday phone- in Classic Quiz that Berlioz's first wife was called Harrietta Simpson, when the two of them are patently such lovely people. Nobody, it seems, did this, and certainly nobody requested those songs aloud, which can be read as a beefy endorsement for the new material We were entirely satisfied with what we got.. Sheer niceness seems to be the secret. Indeed, the Borderline is small enough that you could lean out of the audience with a pen and simply insert your request in the band's set-list. They also turned out a spirited, bottom- heavy version of the old Bible favourite "Honey Be Good" - which was sort of Boo Hewerdine meets Kurt Cobain and buys him a pint.Clark is presumably, at this early stage, ready to put up with people calling out for the Danny Wilson singles - for "Mary's Prayer", say, or "The Second Summer of Love". And on drums is Matt Laug, who was a blur for most of the show, except for those moments at the close of songs, which he spent poking his head between the cymbals and brandishing his sticks at the audience like someone taunting a wild animal.They dipped into Clark's back-catalogue just once, retrieving "Let's Make A Family" from the solo album. Tipped in these pages for hot chart action in '95, the Bible split up almost immediately.
MacColl's presence here - as well as the songwriting involvement of Boo Hewerdine - is our consolation.On bass is Eric Pressley, whose name rings a bell. "Mine's working!" Clark was heard to shout, with schoolboy glee, above the din.Clark is accompanied on guitar in King L by Neil MacColl, formerly of the Bible. Your abiding sense is of someone rediscovering an old, straightforward pleasure.At the Borderline, the band came on amid the usual clunking of leads into guitars and strumming of random test-chords. "Tragedy Girl" beds itself in your consciousness within about half a minute of its opening "Back to Loving Arms" is gutsy and plangent. "Tom Driver" has a weighty and insidious guitar hook and, again, a chorus which you cannot shake.
The new songs are modelled on loud, full, rounded guitar chords, above which Clark's voice hoists instantly memorable melodies. A visit to Clark's basement studio, shortly after the release of that album, revealed a copy of Brian Wilson's autobiography on the floor beside the microphone stand; the influence of the Beach Boy had seeped deep into the songs - their small-scale intricacy, their emphasis on melody above all. The recipe for King L is altogether simpler but still more zesty on the palate Keyboards have been banished to some other galaxy. King L represents, for Clark, what rock critics are apt to call "a departure". When Danny Wilson split up, Clark recorded a solo album called Ten Short Songs About Love. King L is a new band formed by Gary Clark, once the front man with the pop group Danny Wilson.
