#rca london

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

Mazda London Cab concept, 1993, with the Royal College of Art. A prototype for an electric autonomous single-seat cab which could be used in parts of London normally closed to traffic designed by students at the RCA

[thelensofyashunews]

REX ORANGE COUNTY RELEASES NEW SINGLE "2008" ; NEW ALBUM THE ALEXANDER TECHNIQUE OUT THIS FRIDAY VIA RCA RECORDS

Rex Orange County shares new single "2008" ahead of this Friday's release of his new album The Alexander Technique. The song marks the 4th taste of Rex's forthcoming album and will be performed on Jimmy Kimmel Live! this coming Friday.

"2008" is representative of The Alexander Technique as a whole -- Rex's most unencumbered body of work to date, produced entirely by Rex himself alongside Teo Halm (Rosalía, SZA, Beyoncé) and Jim Reed, the latter a member of the Rex Orange County touring band since its inception. The Alexander Technique is named for a therapeutic practice in which back pain is treated to address deeper health problems, and it’s an apt name for Rex's most raw album to date: what may have begun as a simple exercise in changing the purview of his writing ended up becoming his most confessional, open-hearted album. Stripping back his sound to a skeletal mixture of stream-of-consciousness R&B and indie-folk, while retaining the orchestral lushness that’s become his trademark, The Alexander Technique marks the beginning of Act Two of Rex Orange County's career: a new chapter on which he lays everything bare, no matter how painful that might be.

“The Alexander Technique is very much a look into my own brain and experiences over the last few years – it’s almost a diary,” he says. Longer than any project he’s ever made and more musically varied, The Alexander Technique was made over a matter of years, started before and finished after 2022’s WHO CARES?; listening to it feels like watching an artist grow in real-time, and face all the attending growing pains that come alongside. “I’ve made a lot of love songs over the years, and I feel as though this is the first time I’m trying to make a project about everything in life. In my mind, it’s exactly what I’ve always wanted to make.”

The album will be followed by tours across North America and the UK in which Rex has crafted a theatrical stage show that will allow him to bring The Alexander Technique to life across multiple performances in iconic venues in nearly every market on the tour.

Listen to "2008" above now and see below for all The Alexander Technique and touring information.

[friendlytaurus]

Jammed, 2024. Rafael Pérez Evans commissioned by RCA, CCA MA

[newleasemusic]

Song of the Day: Outside -IZ

Song of the Day: Outside -IZ

Rapper IZ comes through onto today’s top spot with a monumental, catchy, party single for the Summer ‘Outside’ released on RCA Records. Following on from single ‘Big Dreams’ at the top of the year which is sitting on over a huge 2 ½ million streams on Spotify alone, IZ has set the pace for his future music. A party rap track set to hit the clubs and festivals for the Summer, IZ brings the heat…

[pamwritessometimes]

British Invasion

Soldier Boy x (British)fem!reader

Summary: Soldier Boy is forced to attend a lavish gallery opening for an emerging artist, expecting nothing more than a typical evening of pretentious small talk and overpriced art. But when he gets to know the artist herself, he quickly realizes they might share more than one thing in common.

proofread & edited on 8/21/24

Warnings: unprotected SMUT (be smarter), pet names, some 60s slang, breeding kink if you squint, terrible writing, AmE and BritE use is varied based on the characters

Word Count: around 4.7 k

Author’s Note: This is my VERY first fic I have written since I was a teenager. English isn’t my first language, so I apologise for any mistakes. Please be kind. 🤍 All kinds of feedback are appreciated!

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May, 1962.

He tried his best to understand what he was looking at. The colours danced in a confusing symphony - deep red lines flashing across the canvas, yellow streaks breaking through the tainted blue background. It was an odd mix of serenity and unease, a puzzle that felt both ambiguous and crystal-clear. Not that he had any expertise in art, he was a superhero, after all. Analyzing abstract paintings was hardly part of the job description. Thank God and Vought for that. He didn't even know why he was there in the first place, stripped of his imposing suit, which at least gave him the semblance of authority. “This will do wonders for your image. Supporting some up-and-coming artists is exactly what we need to repair that reputation you seem so determined to destroy.” 

“Yeah, fuck that.” he thought, scanning the room until his eyes landed on a tray of champagne glasses amidst the other hors d’oeuvres. At least there was free booze. He swiftly grabbed a glass, downed it in one go, and swapped it for another. He barely noticed the presence next to him when he stood back to pretend to interpret the same painting he had been looking at for the last fifteen minutes. 

"Do you like it?" a voice with a soft British lilt called out from his right. He turned to see the source—a striking beauty with (Y/H/C) hair styled in a classic beehive. Her makeup was flawless, with bold eyeliner and red lipstick that enhanced her gorgeous features. The elegant black dress she wore hugged her curves in all the right places, and for a moment, he felt his already tight pants grow even more uncomfortable. "You’ve been staring at it for quite a while."

He quickly gathered himself, a charming smile sliding into place as he responded with feigned confidence. 

"I do, yeah. I really like the... uh, colors and how... this line curves," he replied, trying his best to sound like he knew what he was talking about. “It… makes one feel uncertain and… and certain at the same time.”

“Does it?” she asks, her sceptical eyes glued to the canvas. "To me, it just brings back memories of a February night when I drowned my sorrows in a cheap bottle of rum after finding out I didn’t get into RCA."

His brows furrowed as he looked at the girl next to her taking a sip of her champagne. “You painted this?” he asked. She just nodded in response, her eyes still fixed on the framed painting. “Busted” she chuckled awkwardly. He looked back at the artwork once more and it suddenly all made sense. It was a testament of chaos, the rage and unsettle she must have felt when creating it. Plus, being drunk while creating something? That, he could understand. “I’m (Y/N)... (Y/L/N). But I believe you figured that out.” she said as she nodded to the signed painting.

He smiled and nodded. “Benjamin,” came the reply. “But please, just call me Ben.”

She nodded and smiled at him. “So, Ben… What brings you to London?”

“I'm here for work.” he replied casually. It wasn't a complete lie, per se. He could tell the truth, she will learn it soon anyway. But for now, he just wanted a normal conversation, free from the weight of being America’s Greatest Hero. Just for a couple of minutes.

“I see” she said as she eyed him with great attention to every detail of his appearance.  His dirty blonde hair was slicked back with a sophisticated touch, and his tailored suit and slacks fit him impeccably. "Are you some kind of actor?" she asked finally.

“Among other things.” his tone playful, reflecting on the fact that he enjoyed her not recognizing him. “Why?”

"I was just wondering," she shrugged, finishing the last sip of her drink. "When I first saw you, I thought, ‘He’s either a soldier, a businessman, or an actor.’ Your physique suggests military, but then I took a closer look at your suit, and– may I?" she asked, lifting her hand toward his jacket. With a nod, she touched the fabric. "As I suspected. Kid mohair. No soldier I know could afford that. So, that left businessman or actor. Now, here comes my first observation: your athletic build. If you were an accountant or something like that, you probably wouldn’t be this fit. So, my conclusion? You’re an actor." She smiled, clearly pleased with her deductive reasoning.

He chuckled, clearly amused by her careful observation. “You are quite the observer, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he asked.

That she was. Her favourite hobby was studying people. Every little feature, every line and detail that made them unique. Later, she would capture those fascinating subjects in drawings from memory. Any details that became hazy would be filled in by her imagination. She did the same to him; just memorising his lines (though the nickname almost made the whole process cease).

“So this whole happening… is it all for you?”

She just scoffed. “They say it is” she started, though her face was soaked with clear annoyance. “But I believe it’s more for my agent. He said he found great patrons for this current collection. They want me to go overseas for a potential business proposition.”

At the mention of that, Ben's eyes gleamed with a mischievous spark. The Vought executives had briefed him on their plans to renovate the entire Tower. Stronger foundations, new levels, and, of course, fresh furnishings and decor. That was the real reason he was here in the first place. For whatever reason, Vought wanted (Y/N)'s artwork to grace the Tower's walls. He’d flown in with some executives to evaluate her latest collection, to decide whether it was worth the investment. It wasn’t his decision, of course; he had no real say in the final call. But to the public, he was the face of Vought, their most powerful representative, so his presence was required by his superiors.

“Miss (Y/L/N), it is time” the aforementioned agent’s voice cut through their conversation. She took a deep breath before turning to face the charming looking man in his early thirties.

“I’ll be there in a minute, Greg.”

Greg then nodded and smiled at the two. “I see you met one of your patrons already.” he said as he nodded towards Ben. “It’s an honour to have you here, Soldier Boy. I hope you enjoy your time in our country.”

Ben nodded, a smug grin spreading across his face as he kept his gaze locked on (Y/N), who now wore an expression of stunned realisation. She had only just realised who she had been casually conversing with. “I’m enjoying it so far, very much,” he replied, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

“Alright, Miss (Y/L/N), please say goodbye to the gentleman and follow me.” Greg interjected, his tone formal and clipped, as if he were conducting some high-stakes business transaction.

She swallowed the urge to roll her eyes at the mannerism of the whole conversation. That was one of the many things she hated about the art society she was part of. The pretentious idiosyncrasy and the sense of being loftier than the others. If she had the resources to fund her own artistry, she would leave it all behind. But unlike her peers, who all came from money, she wasn’t that fortunate. Her parents, God bless them, did everything they could to support her, but it was never enough for her to break free. Now, under the thumb of Greg—THE Gregory Alcons, the most influential artist agent in the region—she had little choice but to play along.

Still a bit flabbergasted by the previous revelations of Ben’s identity, she managed to compose herself and glanced at his green orbs. “It was nice meeting you, Soldier Boy. I hope to see you around,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

As she turned to follow Greg, Ben couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way her hips swayed in that sinfully tight black dress. If he didn’t know better, he might just think it was all for him. 

(Y/N)’s speech was a drag. Even she knew that. Every word was scripted, every pause rehearsed, her smile a mask. Like a goddamn politician–she often thought to herself. Nonetheless, her official duties of the gathering still didn’t end, but she could now move around more freely, trying to charm the people gathered in the museum, occasionally sipping on champagne to look for that blitzed state she was so eager to reach. She just wished she had something stronger. During her museum circles, she heard some speeches that she couldn't care less about. Mostly influential old hags talking nonsense about the importance of art patronage and trusting the vision of an artist... She also heard Soldier Boy's brief speech, but she was too occupied to talk to the other guests, she couldn't stop and listen to it.

The smooth jazz tunes created an atmospheric scene, adding to the illusion of sophistication. The guests seemed to be amazed by it all–the champagne, the music, the elegant attires, the modest speeches… yet, she couldn’t care less. This wasn’t her world. It was all a grand performance, and she felt like an imposter in the spotlight of her own art exhibition. She was chatting with a man in his early to mid-seventies about the long-term consequences of giving freedom riders a platform to talk when a familiar rumble cut though the conversation.

“Can I borrow Miss (Y/L/N) for a minute?” 

Relief washed over her as she turned to see Ben—no, Soldier Boy—in his full supe attire, helmet and all (he certainly just finished his speech duties, too). If she had to pretend to share one more of the old man’s bigoted views, she might have committed murder. Soldier Boy was by far her greatest conversation partner tonight, and probably the most tolerable person in the room, which speaks for how entertaining the gathering is. The elderly man tried to hide his disappointment, but reluctantly let her go. 

“Wow,” she muttered, taking in Soldier Boy’s imposing presence. “Now, this is the Soldier Boy I’ve seen in the telly.” Her voice dropped to a sheepish tone. “And… sorry for not recognising you earlier.”

“Can’t say it didn’t hurt,” he replied with a smirk “But it’s also nice knowing that it’s the suit that most people recognize, not my face.”

(Y/N) offered Soldier Boy another small, apologetic smile before letting her eyes drift across the room. The jazz band was playing a smooth set that impressed the crowd but grated on her nerves. The soft melodies and gentle horns just didn’t resonate with her. If she had her way, she’d have had her friends, Gerry & The Pacemakers, play instead—something with real energy, something raw. But, of course, that wouldn’t have flown with Greg or the rest of the stuffy art crowd. They were too wrapped up in their own pretentiousness to appreciate anything that didn’t fit their narrow idea of ‘classy’.

She took another sip of champagne, but it did little to ease her frustration. She felt trapped, stuck in a night that was supposed to be hers but felt like anything but. All she really wanted was to be with real people, having real conversations, and listening to music that made her feel alive. Instead, she was here, pretending to enjoy the company of people who saw her as nothing more than a name to drop at their next social event.

“You’re not exactly enjoying this, are you?” Soldier Boy’s voice cut through her thoughts, bringing her back to reality. His tone was amused, but there was a hint of genuine curiosity there too.

She looked up at him, surprised he noticed. “Is it that obvious?” she asked with a slight smile.

“To most people here? Probably not. But I can tell,” he said with a shrug. “You’re too real for this crowd.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “How about we get out of here?”

(Y/N) hesitated, glancing around the room filled with guests who were supposed to be admiring her work. “I wish I could go somewhere more fun. But this is my show. Not mine mine, obviously, but I can't just disappear,” she said, sighing. “Plus, Greg would kill me if I bailed.”

Soldier Boy smirked, undeterred. “I’m not saying ditch the whole thing, just take a break. Clear your head, get away from all this for a few minutes.” He paused, lowering his voice. “You deserve that much, don’t you?”

She bit her lip, tempted by the offer. The idea of stepping away, even just for a little while, was more appealing than she wanted to admit. Especially with such a handsome-looking bastard. “And where exactly would we go?” she asked, intrigued.

His smile widened, a mix of charm and mischief. “Trust me,” he said, offering his arm. “You’ll like it better than this place.”

═════════ 𖤐🤍𖤐 ═════════

She would lie if she said she didn’t see this coming. She was more than a bit tipsy, but who is she to fool? She would’ve followed Ben to the staff restroom sober, without any question. She needed to release some tension, and he was more than happy to oblige. His calloused thumb was drawing invisible circles on her swollen clit as his cock pounded in and out of her juicy, tight hole. 

“Fuck, sweetheart–” he growled into her ears as his other hand was leaning on the counter, trapping her body between the cold surface and his heated body. It was all quick, filthy, but –oh so needed. Her watery eyes were locked on his reflection in the mirror as she observed both his ecstasy-filled pupils and her rather dishevelled appearance. Either of her boobs were bouncing with each harsh thrust of his hips, stark contrast to that tight black dress that still clung to the rest of her body.

How they ended up like this was both a blur and a logical consequence of their desire. One moment they were talking, and the next, they were stumbling into the restroom, hands all over each other. Soldier Boy’s strong body pressed her back against the door, his lips crashing against hers with a fierce hunger. She didn’t hold back, kissing him with just as much intensity. She melted into his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him coser. She gasped softly as his tongue swiped against her lower lip, asking for entrance. She granted it, his tongue slipping past her plush lips and exploring her mouth while her hands were busy finding a way to rip off his tactical vest. Fuck, why does a supe suit has to be so complicated? 

He soon noticed her efforts to undress him, so he leaned back for a moment with that same smug grin he always seemed to wear, and began to take his suit off. She hurried to do the same when Ben’s voice commanded her to stay put. “That dress stays.” he said, his voice low and sultry. “Couldn’t tear my eyes off of you, you know that? Wearing a dress so fuckin’ tight… swaying your hips like you did… was it all just to drive me crazy, huh?” he asked as he got rid of her suit, now standing in front of her in his naked glory. 

She swallowed hard once his member sprang free–erected, the fat tip leaking with pre-cum. She obliged to his requests by rolling the skirt of the dress up to her perky butt. With delight, he discovered that she was wearing black panties with delicate lace trimming, which was overall already ruined by her soaked cunt. He growled at the sight, grabbing the base of his cock to pump himself a couple of times. She was about to pull her panties down, when he spoke up again. “Those also stay.”

“You are having many commands just for a little hookup” she remarked as she leaned her body closer to his, her palms replacing his on his shaft. Her hands were soft against his skin, his dick twitched by the touch. She pumped him a few times before stopping and releasing him completely. He let out an annoyed huff that quickly turned into a satisfied moan when he felt her hands once more around his cock, now coated with her saliva to add more to the pleasure and to prepare him to enter her already weeping pussy. 

Soldier Boy swiftly gripped her hips and spun her around to face the sink and the mirror above it, returning them to the position they’d just been in. “You’re a real tease, aren’t you?” he growled, his voice thick with desire. She could feel the need in his tone, matching the flame that burned inside her. He lifted one of her legs, giving himself better access, and she braced herself against the counter, anticipation running through her veins. “You're so beautiful. A beautiful tease.” he kissed a line along her spine.

“Yeah…you are just as much of a—” before she could finish the sentence, she felt the tip nudge at her entrance after pulling her panties to the side. It was that moment she finally came to terms with how huge he was. Seeing it, palming it wasn’t enough. Feeling the head of his cock spreading her folds was a whole other sensation. Before he would properly enter, he asked. “You sure you want this?” She couldn’t help but moan, her mind completely taken over by anticipation. Not trusting her voice, she just nodded fervently and pressed herself against him more. That was all Soldier Boy needed. He took a shaky breath and eased himself into her dripping cunt. The only sound in the room was their mingled, sinful noises that escaped both their mouths.

“Fuck….so tight…so fuckin’ wet…” Ben growled as quietly as he could. They were still in that museum, just a few rooms away from the exhibition. As much as he wanted people to hear them, he knew she would probably prefer their affair to stay hidden. 

He kept one hand on her hips, guiding her movements, while the other slid up her stomach, to her exposed breast, his fingers gently tracing over her sensitive nipple. The way it bounced at every thrust, every movement, and how the nipple hardened at his touch… Soldier Boy was known for his supe stamina, but he was already on the edge of coming undone. She was closely behind, her moans and gasps were music to his ears in a sinful symphony as she clenched her hands around the edge of the sink.

“Ben…please…”

“What? What do you need, honey?” he cooed.

“Please… h-harder.” it was more of an incoherent muffled cry than a plea. But he understood nonetheless. He ceased his speed, his hips clashing against hers in a relentless motion. He groaned, his body moving supernaturally fast, his grip on her hips almost bruising on her sensitive skin. 

His mouth attacked her neck, finding her sweet spot, the one that seemingly made her go feral. He sucked and bit that one spot like a madman, being on the mission to elicit as many sounds from her as he could.

“Fuck…baby, youre gonna kill me.” he mumbled into her neck. He felt he was nearing his climax and he needed to make sure she was there with him. He redoubled his efforts, his body moving against hers in a rhythm that was both brutal and beautiful. “You are squeezing me so fuckin’ tight. Shit, I can feel your pretty little cunt trying to push me out.” he said and delivered a brutal thrust to the hilt, burying himself inside for a moment. “Fuuuuck.”he said as he stopped to feel her convulsing pussy. He could feel she was close too. 

His voice, his words and the way his twitching cock was balls deep inside of her made her go feral. “Soldier Boy, I…please… I need to–” his fingers stopped their ministrations on her nipples and found their way to her sensitive bundle of nerves.

“What do you need, honey? Do you want to come? Do you want to soak this big, fat cock, huh?” he asked as he began to move again slowly, his gaze locked at hers in the mirror. Fuck, she looked even more phenomenal than at the grand hall. Her neatly made beehive now a bit more messy, her red lips were a bit smudged, her eyes hazy…Truly a sight to behold. When she didn't answer, he delivered a harsh slap onto her clit. “I asked you a question. Do you want to soak my dick, baby?” he asked and buried himself to the hilt once more, his own climax nearing the edge, too.

“Fu–Yes! Please, let me come on your cock, please, make me squirt all over you… please…” she urged, looking at his reflection.

Her words made her already aching shaft twitch deep inside of her, and with a throaty rumble he set a ruthless pace. His cock was laced with her wetness, the sight making Ben go ferocious. “I’m gonna come into this tight little pussy. I’m gonna pump my load into you. Fuck, come with me, baby, soak my dick.”

Their breath hitched almost at the same time. His fingers were still working their wonders around her clit. Her pussy almost pushed him out when she came, her cum gushing over his shaft. While he made sure to ride her orgasm out, she felt him spilling his seed deep into her hole, dribbling out from her down to his balls. His slowled his pace, but the strength didn’t cease, making sure he fucked his white hot cum back inside of her. 

Once they both came down their highs, they found their eyes going back at their reflection. His satisfied grin, her spent expression, their mingled, joint bodies… Besides being absolutely filthy, there was something more behind that scenery…

After catching their breaths, Ben slipped out of her, quickly pulling her panties back to their place to hold up his cum. He saw her panties being soaked with his climax, which elicited a moan from him. “Now that’s a sight, darling.”

She just laughed breathlessly and rolled her skirt back down, putting her tit back into the confinement of that dress. “That was… just what I needed. Thank you.”

(Y/N) glanced at her reflection in the mirror, cheeks flushed, her breath still unsteady from the intensity of what had just happened. She watched as Soldier Boy straightened up and casually began putting his suit back on. There was something about his calmness, his complete lack of urgency, that made her heart race all over again. He caught her eye in the mirror and flashed that mischievous smirk she was starting to find dangerously attractive.

“M’just happy to help the artist out,” Ben shrugged, the smirk never leaving his face. His voice was playful, but his gaze was laced with something deeper, something that made her pulse quicken. As he fastened the last strap of his vest, he turned to her, an eyebrow raised in challenge. “Don’t you… wanna get out of here? For real?”

(Y/N) bit her lip, torn between the temptation of escape and the nagging responsibility of the exhibition. The thought of ditching this pretentious gathering for something—anything, really—more genuine was almost irresistible. But despite her wild child tendencies, she was still aware of her responsibilities. “Ben, I still have this exhibition,” she said, her voice softening. “I can’t just leave. Greg would have a heart attack if I walked out right now.”

Ben chuckled, stepping closer until he was just inches away. “And you care about that?” he asked, his tone low and teasing, but with a seriousness beneath it. “You really wanna stick around, playing nice with assholes who wouldn’t know real art if it smacked them in the face?”

She hesitated, knowing he was right. Everything about this night felt wrong, but she still felt trapped by the expectations that came with it. “It’s not that simple,” she murmured, almost to herself. “This is my career.”

He reached out, gently tipping her chin up so she had to look at him. “You’re not one of them, you know that,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “You don’t belong here, with these people who only care about what you can do for them. You deserve more than that. Plus, you’ve already got that deal with Vought. Why would you care about any other guests?”

His words hit her harder than she expected. He wasn’t just trying to lure her away for some fun; he was calling out what she had been trying to ignore all night. She sighed, feeling the weight of the evening press down on her again. “But where would we even go?” she asked, though the resistance in her voice was fading.

“Anywhere you want,” Ben replied, his eyes lighting up with the possibility. “Somewhere where you can breathe, where you don’t have to pretend.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You said you wanted fun tonight. Let’s go find it.”

She looked at him, really considering his offer this time. The idea of leaving it all behind, even just for a night, was more tempting than ever. She knew it was reckless, maybe even career suicide, but there was a part of her that didn’t care anymore. Not tonight. Tonight, she wanted to feel alive.

Slowly, she nodded. “Alright,” she said, her voice stronger now. “Let’s get out of here.”

Ben’s smirk widened, satisfied. “Atta girl,” he murmured, taking her hand in his. He pulled her toward the door, and as they slipped out of the restroom, a thrill shot through her. She was leaving behind everything that had been weighing her down all night, walking away from the people and the pretence, and into something unknown but undeniably exciting.

As they made their way through the back halls of the museum, she felt a strange sense of freedom. The further they got from the exhibition, the lighter she felt, like she was shedding a skin she’d outgrown long ago. She didn’t know where Ben was taking her, but for the first time in a long time, she didn’t care. She was done pretending.

And as for Soldier Boy... maybe coming to this exhibition wasn't such a bad idea after all.

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Thanks for reading. <3

[mybeingthere]

David Jones (b 1939) graduated from Liverpool College of Art in 1961 and it was here he first discovered his interest in printmaking. His tutor was the surrealist artist George Jardine. He won a John Moores travelling scholarship and spent time visiting various design studios across Europe. On returning to the UK he worked as assistant to graphic designers Jock Kinneir and Margaret Calvert. In 1965 -1967 he worked in Japan at Nakamoto International Agency, Osaka.

He returned to the UK and had a busy and successful career working freelance in graphic design, illustration and typography. He also worked as a visiting college lecturer at many of the countries leadings art schools. From 1979 he was a Senior Lecturer at Central Saint Martins (University of The Arts, London).

In the last twenty years he has returned to printmaking, in particular linocuts and wood engraving. He is influenced by Outsider art and Folk art. In 1989 he helped set up Raw Vision, a journal of Outsider Art. David is also a keen Semi-pro musician and plays the soprano saxophone. He hand prints his work in small editions and many of the images in his prints come from dreams.

https://rcaconwy.org/.../david-jones-rca-from-my-imagination

[guinevereblom]

Julius Hare (British painter) 1859 - 1932

Dressing Up, 1885

oil on canvas

Julius Hare RCA (23 January 1859 – 12 March 1932) was a British artist, painter of portraits and landscapes.

Born in Dublin, he was the son of Mathias Hare LLD. He was educated at Loughborough Grammar School in England before Studied under Adolphe Yvon of Paris, and also at the West London School of Art, South Kensington, and the Heatherley School of Fine Art. He was made an associate of the Royal Academy of Art and exhibited there.

He lived in Plas Mawr, Conwy, North Wales.

[hooked-on-elvis]

"HARBOR LIGHTS": The first song ever taped by Elvis Presley (officially)

PICTURES: [1-2] Elvis Presley, December 27, 1954. Photo by Lou Lowery.

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Elvis had paid for two private sessions at the Sun Studio, when he would cut two acetates with the songs "My Happiness" and "That's When Your Heartache Begins" — the actual date is not certain but it happened sometime in 1953 — and again Presley would go back to Sun Studio on January 4, 1954, to record "I’ll Never Stand In Your Way" and "It Wouldn’t Be The Same Without You," all ballads.

"In fact, he sang very little but ballads, and to the untrained ear, we now know, he sounded like plenty of other local C&W singers. To Marion [Keisker], though, there was something there — a stronger yearning? A deeper passion? A greater determination? Whatever it was, she wanted to keep an eye on it; after the kid had made his acetate she made herself a note: “Good ballad singer. Hold." — Ernst Jorgensen on "Elvis Presley: A Life In Music"

A while after the private recordings, on June 26, 1954, Elvis was officially invited to a recording session at Sun Studio. A phone call was made by Marion Keisker (Sun Studio's secretary), and soon after that Elvis walked back in the studio and he started the official recordings singing in the same familiar way, not venturing in something out of extraordinary. Nothing came out that was really interesting to tape, but still certain there might be something good ahead, a while after that Elvis came back to Sun Studio once more and that's when the ballad called "Harbor Lights" was covered by him.

The song was originally recorded by Roy Fox & his Orchestra with vocal by Barry Gray, in London, on January 29, 1937. You can listen to the original record of the tune below.

Elvis recorded "Harbor Lights" on July 5, 1954, during his first commercial recording session.

According to Ernst Jorgensen, it may have been the first song Elvis recorded. The first song put on tape. The order for the official recordings during that session at Sun Studio would have been, "Harbor Lights" and "I Love You Because", nothing that really caused a big impression on Sam Phillips, but then during a pause from the recordings, Elvis, Scotty Moore and Bill Black were just joking around, having fun playing Arthur's Cudrup tune their own way, without even realizing they were doing something that finally got Sam Phillips really excited about. That's when "That's All Right" came to be and then, during the same session, there was "Blue Moon of Kentucky", both songs, as soon as released, instant hits by this new Memphis guy with a funny/weird/unique name.

Opposite to the hits "That's All Right", "Blue Moon of Kentucky" and even the ballad "I Love You Because", Sam Phillips considered the recording of "Harbor Lights" unworthy of release, according to Jorgensen once more, because "they couldn’t get the Hawaiian-inspired pop song right" (Look at Hawaii being there for Elvis since the very beginning of his career... in a certain way. Interesting). In 1976, tho, RCA released the master of "Harbor Lights" on the LP "Elvis – A Legendary Performer, Volume 2", for the first time.

I don't know about you but this is surely one of my all-time-favorites Elvis song. ♥ Thank God it came to the light of day.

MASTER (TAKE 3):

Music by Hugh Williams (the pseudonym of Austrian composer Will Grosz) and lyrics by Northern Irish songwriter Jimmy Kennedy. Elvis recorded the songs during studio sessions for Sun Records between July 5–6, 1954, in Memphis, Tennessee.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

SOME OTHER TAKES:

TAKES 1-2 and 3/MASTER

TAKE 4:

TAKES 5-8:

LPS/CDS WHERE THE TUNE CAN BE FOUND:

Elvis - A Legendary Performer, Vol. 2 (1976); Greatest Moments in Music (1979); The King of Rock’n’Roll – The Complete 50’s Masters (1992); A Golden Celebration (1998); Sunrise (1999); Today Tomorrow and Forever (2002); Elvis at Sun (2004); A Boy From Tupelo (2012) - FTD; For LP Fans Only (2018) - FTD.

PICTURE: Elvis and The Blue Moon Boys (Bill Black and Scotty Moore), in 1954.

Sources: "Elvis Presley: A Life In Music" by Ernst Jorgensen and Peter Guralnick; Wikipedia; www.elvis100percent.com.

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Thursday, 11-14-24 8am Pacific

A nippy good Thursday mornin' to all, a slowly-caffeinating Mr. Baggins here with you for Morning Coffee Music, selections to get us in gear and in good cheer. I thought we might begin today by listening to the piece JS Bach wrote about...COFFEE! Here is his "Coffee Cantata", the Cantata BWV 211, sung for us here by Elly Ameling with the Collegium Aureum.

Let's go from Bach to his contemporary Vivaldi, and hear his "Fall" movement from The Four Seasons. This is played for us by violinist Susanne Lautenbacher, with the Württemberg Chamber Orchestra, Jörg Faerber conducting. This, by the way, is my favorite recording of the Four Seasons.

Now let's go back a bit in the Timeline to Domineco Scarlatti. Here is Vladimir Horowitz to play a selection of Scarlatti's many keyboard sonatas, recorded a few years after Horowitz first moved from RCA over to Columbia Masterworks, in 1963.

I thought that we might begin a survey of the symphonies of Antonin Dvorak, here on Morning Coffee Music, one a day. We all know his Ninth, the New World, but many have never heard ANY of the first eight symphonies. Only numbers six and eight ever get much concert-hall time. I've chosen the performances that have stood for decades as "definitive", those of Istvan Kertesz and the London Symphony, in 1967. Here they are to perform the Symphony No. 1 by Antonin Dvorak.

Here's Glenn Gould with the very first Prelude and Fugue from Book 1 of The Well Tempered Clavier by Bach.

Now we are treated to another of Bach's keyboard concerti played by Gould, this one is Number 5, in F minor BWV 1056. The Columbia Symphony Orchestra is directed by Vladimir Golschmann.

Next let's revisit Vaughan Williams, this time we hear his Concerto Grosso in five movements, played by Neville Marriner and the ASMF.

Next we hear Beethoven's Piano Trio in C major, Op. 1, No. 1, played by The Beaux Arts Trio, from their definitive set on Decca.

Let's head to Paris in the 1920s for the music of George Gershwin, his "An American In Paris", played for us here by Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic, on a Columbia Masterworks recording from 1959.

I wanted to wrap this edition of Morning Coffee Music up with one of the "Songs of the Roses" by Martin Lauridsen, his hauntingly beautiful "Dirait-on". The composer is at the piano, with the Chamber Choir of Europe, directed by Nicol Matt.

I hope that beautiful piece leaves you with a smile and a warm heart. This is Mr. Baggins, signing off for now, I'll be back at 2pm Pacific with your Afternoon Stack of Classic Wax!

Baggins out.

[scotianostra]

The singer Lonnie Donegan was born on April 29th 1931 in Bridgeton Glasgow.

Donegan was born Anthony James Donegan, the son of a Scottish father and Irish mother. His father was a professional violinist who had played with the Scottish National Orchestra.

He moved with his mother to London at an early age, after his parents divorced. Inspired by blues music and New Orleans jazz bands he heard on the radio, he resolved to learn the guitar, and bought his first at the age of fourteen. He took his first name after a New Orleans blues singer he admired called Lonnie Johnson.

The first band he ever played in was the trad jazz band led by Chris Barber, who approached him on a train asking him if he wanted to audition for his group. Barber had heard that Donegan was a good banjo player; in fact, Donegan had never played the banjo at this point, but he bought one and managed to bluff his way through the audition. His stint in this group was interrupted, however, when he was called up for National Service in 1949.

In 1952, he formed his first own group, the Tony Donegan Jazzband, which found some work around London. On one occasion they opened for the blues musician Lonnie Johnson at the Royal Festival Hall. Donegan was a big fan of Johnson, and took his first name as a tribute to him. The story goes that the host at the concert got the musicians’ names confused, calling them “Tony Johnson” and “Lonnie Donegan”, and Donegan was happy to keep the name.

Donegan recorded a reworking of an American folk tune, Rock Island Line. Decca released the song in 1956, billed by the Lonnie Donegan Skiffle Group. The record, with its talking sequences, homage to Americana, and fast train shuffle climax, became a major hit in Britain and America. Because he was paid a flat fee for the session, Donegan didn’t receive any royalty payments for his most popular and influential song until the label struck a new deal for him 40 years later. However, Rock Island Line made him a star in his own right and would remain his signature song throughout his career.

From 1956 through 1962, he enjoyed a string of 34 British hits including Puttin’ on the Style and Cumberland Gap, which hit number one in 1957, Don’t You Rock Me Daddy-O, which reached number four in the same year, and the raucous sing-along My Old Man’s a Dustman which climbed to the top of the charts in 1960. It’s not hard to see why Lonnie is regarded as the first real pop star, his fans included the likes of Lennon and McCartney, who’s first group, The Quarrymen were a skiffle group. he Shadows, the Searchers, the Hollies, Herman’s Hermits, Gerry & the Pacemakers, and Cliff Richard all began their musical lives doing skiffle.

As the swinging sixties rolled on Donegans hits dried up but he was always in demand for gigs at home and across the world, he also dabbled in a wee bit acting and his own song publishing business, his most popular song he bought the rights for being Nights in white Satin. In the 70’s he popped upon the occasional TV shows during breaks from touring, in 1972 Tom Jones covered one of Lonnie’s songs and it went top 5 on both sides of the Atlantic. As a performer he continued to record and lease unsuccessful sides to Pye, Decca, Black Lion, and RCA.

A 1976 heart attack forced Donegan into an uneasy semi-retirement in California. Two years later, Chrysalis Records organized an all-star recreation of his early hits Puttin’ on the Style. Produced by former British teen idol Adam Faith and boasting duets with Ringo Starr, Elton John, and Rory Gallagher, it was his last major-selling album. Follow-ups with respected session ace Albert Lee and Cajun-fiddler Doug Kershaw seemed to point him towards country music, but a series of heart attacks in 1979 ended his full-time career.

In later years Donegan made a series of guest appearances with old friend Chris Barber including a featured spot on Van Morrison’s Skiffle Sessions: Live in Belfast 1998. Just before his death, he returned to touring full time, exhibiting much of his classic verve and humour before standing-room-only crowds. Donegan died on November 3rd, 2002, in Peterborough.

[marian-1122]

The Clash performing at the Royal College of Art (RCA) , London, England , 5th November , 1976 .

©️ Julian Yewdall/Getty Images

[astronomicalthingz]

Song of the day:

Suffrage City- David Bowie

"Suffragette City" was recorded on 4 February 1972 at Trident Studios, London, towards the end of the Ziggy Stardust sessions.

"Suffragette City" was originally released on 28 April 1972 by RCA Records as the B-side of Bowie's single "Starman"

In 2015, Ultimate Classic Rock placed the track on their list of the top 200 songs of the 1970s!

[savebylou]

Article below.

LITTLE MIX star Jade Thirlwall is finally dropping her debut single – and it includes a dig at her former boss Simon Cowell.

It seems she has unfinished business with the music mogul and takes aim at him in the lyrics of the song, Angel Of My Dreams.

It features the telling line: “Sold my soul to a SyCo” a reference to Simon’s now- defunct record label — which the girl band quit in 2018.

And Jade also looks to have taken a pop at the former X Factor supremo himself in the big-budget video for the track, which she has been secretly shooting in ­London.

The promo depicts Jade as a youngster trying to find fame, along with a mysterious man smoking a cigar who ­controls the music industry.

Fans will see this as a nod to Simon, who plucked Jade and her old bandmates Perrie Edwards, Jesy Nelson and Leigh-Anne Pinnock from thousands of pop hopefuls on the ­talent show back in 2011.

However, the relationship later turned sour after the group confronted Simon in a strongly worded email over their writing credits.

A bigger row then erupted between the band’s management company ­Modest and Simon, who decided to cut ties with them in 2018.

The dispute saw the girls move to RCA, which released their fifth album, LM5.

Jade — whose spokesman declined to comment on the apparent Simon references on the new single — later revealed the group were then stopped from pushing a message of girl power.

That really f***ed us over’

Asked why fans didn’t see much female empowerment in their music videos, Jade added: “We did a little bit but we had a switch of labels during the LM5 process and that really f***ed us over.

"It was harder to put all our creativity out there in the way we would have liked.“

The LM5 album was very heavy on women’s rights and our experiences in the ­industry.”

With ex-bandmates Perrie and Leigh-Anne both dropping new solo tunes imminently, I can’t wait to hear what Jade has to say with her new tracks.

x

[thislovintime]

Photos © Jeff Hochberg/Getty Images, Jeff Hochberg/Rock Negatives, Disc & Music Echo, Icon and Image/Getty Images; photo 9 shows Peter at Decca in London, with Cyril Black of Screen Gems, Terry Oates of RCA Victor, Jack Magraw of Screen Gems, and Colin Borland of Decca (photo published in Billboard’s January 20, 1968 issue).

“The Peter Tork you saw on Top Of The Pops last week was, to use his own words, ‘My public image.’ The zany goon-like character was in top TV form as he clowned his way through 30 minutes of semi-chaos […]. Some accused him of acting, and he admitted of course that he was. That was what people excepted him to do. But the Peter Tork who peacefully sat cross-legged on a table in a small room at Decca’s Regent Street offices was Peter Tork, no acting, no clowning — just a singularly intelligent young man with a surprisingly (when you think of the TV character) wide vocabulary. ‘I don’t know why it is. I just seem to have been born with a large vocabulary and now I’m stuck with it!’ [….] On more than one occasion, armed with his own camera, he turned the tables on unsuspecting photographers, most of whom didn’t really appreciate the subtlety of the Tork sarcasm.” - Disc and Music Echo, January 13, 1968

“He sat cross-legged on the Big Executive Desk, surveying us all with confidence but occasionally giving himself away by tearing nervously at one of his multi-colored moccasins. Around his neck he wore beads ('I like them’) and his bearded face smiled the most when he was asked questions about fans, shaving, or the fringed handbag around his waist. Peter Tork was meeting the Press — not the zany stumbler from the Monkees’ series, or the fellow you saw teeny-bopping around your ‘Top Of The Pops’ screen last Thursday. This was a gentle and articulate Monkee who talked like a Websters’ Dictionary.” - Alan Smith, NME, January 13, 1968

“In fact I arrived at London Airport completely unannounced and was able to walk around the city for three days completely unnoticed. I visited ‘Granny Takes A Trip,’ ‘Apple’ and the ‘Speakeasy’ and I found them all very good. In fact the juggler’s shirt I’m wearing was bought at Apple.” - Peter Tork, Disc and Music Echo, January 13, 1968

“Peter Tork, while living up to the TV legend, is straightforward, friendly and very human. […] [H]e thoughtfully tugged his sun-streaked brown hair, which erupts from his mobile face and slides down the slender stem of his neck in a silken flow, only to find its exit to the shoulders cut off abruptly by the stylist’s scissors. He has almost always the look of patient resignation worn under the make-up of great clowns, and his face arranges itself into any number of humorous attitudes with the ease of a bendy doll… screwed up like an unwanted love letter or innocent as a boy accused of scrumping apples. His mouth is soft and sweet, and there is both shrewdness and kindness in his small, searching eyes. […] He winced when a reporter opened his question with ‘we’re honored to have you here,’ and on being informed that ‘your banjo-playing was for many of us the highlight of your concerts here,’ he murmured a quick ‘that’s very kind of you’ and brushed off the questioner. Compliments wash against him like so much spray on a cliff-face. […] The conference broke up with requests for autographs all around, and for the first time, Peter seemed genuinely touched by this subtle flattery. My last sight of him was a smiling figure signing autographs for fans in the rain, each one with a ‘Love from Peter Tork’ and a flower. And the sweet smell from the joss stick smoldering in his hand was still with me as I walked away.” - June Southworth, Fabulous 208, January 17, 1968

“‘We thought the present shows were losing their impetus. They were getting harder to act. We felt yoked by the plots. We want our shows to be fun, simple… but inventive, fresh and interesting. Did you see “Magical Mystery Tour”? Did you like it? Good. That’s what we like. We could not do more shows like those in the past. We must go as far afield as possible… on the lines of “Magical Mystery Tour.”’ […] Peter also revealed that in the future he hopes to concentrate more on folk music, particularly on the Monkees’ forthcoming albums.” - NME, January 13, 1968

Additional photos from the press reception, and Peter looking through entries from fans for NME's Monkee Faces contest. (More photos from that occasion here.)

During his time in London, Peter also wrote "Long Title..." (read more here), was a guest presenter on Top Of The Pops, and took part in recording sessions for George Harrison's Wonderwall Music, playing banjo (more about that here).

[film-classics]

Jeanette MacDonald - The Iron Butterfly

Jeanette Anna MacDonald (born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on June 18, 1903) was an American actress best remembered for her musical films in the 1930s. MacDonald was one of the most influential sopranos of the 20th century, introducing opera to film-going audiences and inspiring a generation of singers. She became known as "The Iron Butterfly", for she was one of the most lady-like and beautiful women in Hollywood, but when it came to contracts, she was tough and kept unwanted advances in check, rarely making a misstep in her career.

She was the third daughter of Scottish-American parents and the younger sister to character actress Blossom Rock ( who was most famous as "Grandmama" on the 1960s TV series The Addams Family), whom she followed to New York for a chorus job on Broadway in 1919.

After working her way up from the chorus to starring roles on Broadway, she was casted as the leading lady in Paramount Studios' The Love Parade (1929), a landmark of early sound films. Despite making many successful films with Paramount, she next signed with the Fox.

MacDonald then took a break from Hollywood in 1931 to embark on a European concert tour, performing at the Empire Theater in Paris and at London's Dominion Theatre. She was even invited to dinner parties with British Prime Minister Ramsay MacDonald and French newspaper critics. She returned to Paramount the following year and made more films.

In 1933, MacDonald left again for Europe, and while there signed with MGM, which brought her together with Nelson Eddy. The pair made eight pictures together, including Maytime (1937), arguably the best musical of all time. From then on, they were forever known as America's Singing Sweethearts.

 In 1943, she left MGM and began pursuing other interests. She made her opera debut singing Juliette in Gounod's Roméo et Juliette in Montreal at His Majesty's Theatre. After the war, MacDonald made two more films, but quit the movies altogether in 1949. The 1950s found MacDonald in the Las Vegas nightclub circuit, on television, in sold-out concert tours, in studio recordings, and on musical stage productions.

In her final years, MacDonald developed a serious heart condition. She died in Houston, Texas while awaiting heart surgery; she was 61 years old.

Legacy:

Won the Screen Actors Guild award for Maytime (1937)

Crowned as the Queen of the Movies in 1939 by 22 million filmgoers in a New York Daily News survey as presented by Ed Sullivan

Has 2 RCA Red Seal gold records (one for "Indian Love Call" (1936) and another for "Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life" (1935)

Has 1 RIAA gold record for Favorites in Hi-Fi (1959)

Was one of the highest-paid actresses in MGM in the 1930s

Listed by the Motion Picture Herald as one of America’s top-10 box office draws in 1936

Co-founded the Army Emergency Relief and raised funds on concert tours in 1941 to support American troops

Awarded an honorary doctor of music degree from Ithaca College in 1956

Named Philadelphia's Woman of the Year in 1961

Is the namesake of the USC Thornton School of Music built a Jeanette MacDonald Recital Hall built in 1975

Has a bronze plaque unveiled in March 1988 on the Philadelphia Music Alliance's Walk of Fame

Honored with a block in the forecourt of Grauman's Chinese Theatre in 1934

Co-wrote an autobiography, Jeanette MacDonald Autobiography: The Lost Manuscript, in the 1950s and which was eventually published in 2004

Honored as Turner Classic Movies Star of the Month for March 2006

Has two stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame: 6157 Hollywood Boulevard for motion picture and 1628 Vine Street for recording

[mybeingthere]

Watercolours by Edward Bawden (1903 – 1989, British).

"Edward Bawden (1903-1989) thought of himself as a designer, not an artist. A respected British book illustrator and printmaker, his commercial designs for clients including Fortnum & Mason and Shell, are rightly prized as classics. But as the Dulwich Picture Gallery in London argues, his fine art has been unfairly neglected. The gallery’s new exhibition, which features his paintings alongside his book illustrations, posters and graphic designs, ought to change that. The most comprehensive exhibition since his death, it argues that Bawden reinvented the watercolour for the 20th century.

Bawden is best known for his witty approach to linocut, a printing technique similar to woodcut, which he elevated into a respected medium. But as the exhibition reveals, Bawden was fascinated by watercolour. While he was at the Royal College of Art (rca), Bawden, his friend and fellow art student, Eric Ravilious, and their tutor, Paul Nash, rediscovered the British watercolourists of the late 18th and early 19th centuries. At the time – this was the 1920s – the restrained style of artists like Francis Towne and John Sell Cotman seemed refreshingly modern after decades of “blob” and “swash”, one critic’s disparaging terms for the loose style that grew out of Impressionism. In their own work, Bawden and his circle began to combine clean lines and precisely applied colour with stencilling and collage, and to borrow techniques from oil painting such as stippling, where the canvas is dotted with many small specks. In their hands, watercolour drawing went from fusty to fresh."

By Florence Hallett https://www.economist.com/.../how-edward-bawden...