Having written about the first single I ever bought last time out, this is the most recent - and it's definitely the stuff of vinyl geek dreams.
A limited edition red vinyl single featuring previously unreleased Spacemen 3 material with artwork drawn by an original member of the band plus a cover of one of their finest tunes by San Francisco freaks Wooden Shjips thrown in for good measure. Not exactly a steal at nine quid but who needs new socks when there's this to buy?
Split singles are about as indie as it gets - a show of comradeship and a treat for the fans - not to mention a good way to get a bit more cash over the merch desk on a tour. Oasis would never have bothered with a split single. Too small time.
Mind you, Metallica and Black Sabbath put one out together in April to celebrate Record Store Day, so it would seem all things are possible.
This is actually the second Spacemen 3 split single I've got, the previous one coming free with a fanzine in 1990, with the Spacemen and Mudhoney covering each other's songs to great effect.
The 'new' Spacemen track here is labelled Big City (demo) and though it certainly went on to become the track of that name, this version must have been called something different when it was recorded as the chorus is nowhere to be heard.
The burbling synths are in place but sound more inspired by The Silver Apples, Suicide or Kraftwerk than anything being played in dance clubs of the time, while the heavily phased guitar lines are present and correct as Pete Kember once again manages to make an asset of his limited skills.
But the melody and lyrics are totally different and the song starts with a spoken intro similar to Let Me Down Gently from 1989's Playing With Fire album. Like several of Kember's songs from this period, it's not clear if it's about a girl or about his fellow Spaceman Jason Pierce.
The band was crumbling at this stage, with 1991's final album, Recurring, basically two solo albums glued together, with Kember and Pierce only playing together on one song (Mudhoney's When Tomorrow Hits, from the previous mentioned fanzine vinyl, which had already come out a year earlier and predated the album sessions).
'I felt so tied up/And I wanted to be free/And I wanted to be you/And I wanted you to be me/Yes, I was blind and I thought I could see/And I'm sorry I'm not what you needed me to be'. Make of that what you will.
It's not hard to see why Kember decided to have a rethink, taking the song in an entirely new direction apparently inspired by attending a particularly druggy Happy Mondays gig and his own experiments with ecstacy.
Giving the synth line a techno sheen and ditching the original bummer lyrics for lines such as 'All of my friends can be found here', 'Let the good times roll' and the final bliss-struck pay off of 'Waves of joy/ Yeah, I love you too' took Big City out of the bedroom and down to the disco. Of course, this being Spacemen 3, it still sounded to slow and stoned to actually work on the dance floor but it was fascinating to hear Kember absorbing the sounds of the era into his usual esoteric stew of influences.
The final version may be superior but this is still a charming work in progress, with its clear links to the Playing With Fire era.
On the flip side is Wooden Shjips version of I Believe It, originally a gospel-inspired devotional drone from Playing With Fire that's dominated by keyboards and features Kember at his most wide eyed and awe struck.
The Shjips take it to the garage and swathe it in fuzz guitar while Ripley Johnson rolls out a bluesy psych solo that owes more to Pierce than Kember.
I must confess to being in two minds about the Shjips. At times, particular the Volume One compilation of early singles, they seem utterly inspired with their endlessly refracting motorik boogie. But at other times, they strike me as absurdly stunted, locked in by a limited palate and chugging endless round in addled circles.
But I Believe It finds them at their best, with Johnson's echo-drenched whisper suiting the lyric just as well as Kember's rather more committed original version did and the Shjips managing to draw on the Spacemen's Perfect Prescription era sound to breathe fresh life into the song.
With Kember and Pierce seemingly no nearer to settling their differences than when the Spacemen finally split in 1991, this two-song morsel is a fine reminder of what a great band they were.
Fans of Big City may also find this Erol Alkan remix of interest.
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