The Beat goes on. And on. And on. Three different ways.

UPDATE: A revised and expanded version of this post 

is included in the Radio To Go ebook, Survivors 

It's complicated. We're now living in a universe where three, count 'em, three Beats are clattering, rattling, skanking, twisting and crawling.

Everett and his cohort of Mighty Mighty local Bosstones. Photo by Horseman

Dave Wakeling, a founder member of the original Beat, lives in California, and leads The English Beat. Fellow Beat founder Ranking Roger leads his brand of The Beat at home, and Everett Morton, the original drummer, has just announced dates for his band, Beat Goes Bang. 

Time for a chat with Everett, to go with this blog's existing posts on Dave and Roger. you'll find links for those at the bottom of this post. There's clearly a bit of history here. I wasn't planning to dig too deep into the feelings that boil up over a thirty year professional association. But I did... just a bit. 

The immediate question that springs to mind is: leaving Dave's US-based operation aside, is there room for two Beats in the UK, and what sort of musical differentiation will there be?

The Other Campbell Brother

While the three younger Campbell brothers wrestle with UB40's disputes, elder brother David is rebuilding a folk career, with echoes of their legendary father Ian.

Photo courtesy of Ian Dunn at Principle Photography

Among Birmingham's musical dynasties, one family stands out: The Campbells. The late Ian Campbell was a stalwart of UK folk from the 50s onwards. Driven by socialist principles, he ran the famed Jug Of Punch folk club for decades, hosting everyone who came up through the UK folk scene of the 60s and 70s.

Three of his sons, Robin and Ali, and later Duncan, helped rewrite British Reggae. The fourth is a traditional folk singer. David Campbell, the eldest by two years, is re-emerging in folk clubs and festivals. Like his dad's work, and like the early UB40 recordings, his work is shot though with political conviction; it's a family tradition.

St Pat's! Paul Murphy, Boat To Row and The Old Dance School at the Emerald Village

Welcome 2014 additions to St Patricks at the Custard Factory with Moseley Folk. There's some great local music, too, all free. You might have to move around a bit...

If you absolutely must

As of today, we're two weeks away from St Patricks Day. In Birmingham, as elsewhere, it's a huge deal. But it's especially important in Brum because of the size - and roots - of the brummy Irish community. And it's the third largest St Pat's party in the world, behind New York and Dublin. Crikey.

Of course, it's a huge deal everywhere. And it means different things to different people. I'm not a fan of green beer or silly hats, but lots of people love that stuff, so if that floats your boat, well good luck to you.. There is something particularly nice about the fact that St Pat's in Brum, while a huge knees-up, is also a massive cross-cultural celebration. And everyone loves a parade. If it's got dragons, so much the better. So, of course, there will be a dragon: an Oilliphéist, no less.

What about music? Oh yes, there's tons of music. Details – some details, at least - after the jump.

Wireless: Birmingham's biggest ever Festival

I hear local mutterings, and ruffling of feathers. Big bad Wireless Festival is coming to Brum. Get real - this is serious business, and we should get a slice.

The Largest Music Promoters In The UK, Live Nation, are plonking their flagship brand, Wireless Festival, down in Birmingham this summer. Two simultaneous festivals rotating line-ups between London and Brum over three days. This makes it, by a long chalk the biggest music event in the city: 150,000 paying customers in Perry Park over three days.

This happened without the knowledge or involvement of anyone involved in any of the well-meaning council-sponsored or other bodies trying to push the local music scene forward. Fait accompli, done deal, we're coming, thank you very much. That's business 

So is this a bad thing? I don't really think so. It's how the music industry operates when it's set up to run on an industrial scale. And maybe we should think about building links. The big boys don't need us and our local scene. But we could sure do with touting our wares on a big stage. And there are grounds for optimism.

A local YouTube chart: February 2014

This time last year, the Official Chart company decided not to use YouTube data when compiling the UK charts. Maybe we'd get a bit more metal if they did.

Mvula: big numbers after a big year. But not #1

I do this chart every six months. Again, there's a new leader of the pack, with big numbers. Some people are doing really well - either under their own steam, or with the help of a big marketing push, at both ends of the chart. It's fascinating stuff. Well, I think so.  

By the way, this isn't perfect - it can't be. YouTube numbers, like many Google reckonings, can wander about a bit. Not every genre - like rap battles - fits the criteria. And Ruby Turner would place impressively high if her showcase TV slots with Jools Holland were included – but these are live fan captures, not commissioned videos. 

We don't live in a perfect world. Two charts follow the break: the basic totals, and a breakdown of who's made the most progress in the past six months. Numbers were collected in the week just gone. And if I've missed you out, I'm really sorry. Yell at me in the email box at top right, or drop me a snarky comment, and I'll fix things. 

Old Punks don't die. They go big in Japan.

Start a band. You'll be amazed what happens. 70s punk veterans Neon Hearts are.

 Neon Hearts 2014 and 1977

35 years ago, Punk was front, centre and huge. Bands who couldn't play, snotty and sneering, drenched in audience gob.

Of course it was choreographed, but it was a great bandwagon for some. The Police, Squeeze, Bob Geldof and even Tom Petty used Punk well to get themselves noticed.

Down the pecking order, Punk really mattered. Local hopefuls? Dansette Damage, Suburban Studs, Spizz, the Killjoys, Dangerous Girls, the Prefects, and more. Most faded away, of course. But this was real and valid to those who were there. The recordings survive, but now they're out of time and context, and there's nothing to hook them to. 

But that lets people pin new meaning to old music. Extraordinary things can happen.

The Desolation Of Smug: The BBC in the Midlands

I love the BBC. I really do. But it’s hard sometimes. 

Gilded London palace...          Abandoned Midlands halls

I’m a big BBC fan. I see and hear inspiring stuff on the Beeb. More often than not, I give up in boredom, despair or disbelief watching and listening to anyone else. I use the BBC website every day. I respect Reithian principles. 

And I don’t side with those who want rid of the BBC; I disagree with beeb-haters. Last week, the Daily Mail cheerily relayed commercial radio's monotonously regular gripe that, as Radio 1 and 2 beats them hands down for listeners, those stations should be shut down, hobbled or sold, because... it's just not fair, and, besides, it means they're not making enough money. Hey, I thought it was all about competition, right? So, go compete, commercial radio. Get listeners, don't bitch about moving the goalposts. You could try putting more profit back into output for a start.

So I hope I’ve made this crystal clear. I believe in the Beeb, and I support them. 

But, and it’s a big but, this is an organisation that really does not make itself easy to love.

Boat To Row. They rock.

Boat, schmoat... the new video is going like a train

Boat To Row at All Tomorrow's Leaving, December 2013

Boat To Row's Lydia Glanville and Anna Louise Bennett are cheerily considering how things are over hipster coffee, while Michael King parks up and finds change for the meter. 

The hot topics are a tour, a single on vinyl and download, their own label, and a video shot for very little money. We're weighing up what they should charge for the single launch gig on February 28th, with the vinyl thrown in. It's all very impressive, garlanded with effortless, unflappable charm. 

Maybe they're horrible cynical bastards with a devilishly smooth act aimed at suckers like me.

Nah, they're lovely. They really are. 

Joan Armatrading's BIG last tour

Joan Armatrading has announced her last tour, kicking off later this year. She isn't retiring from live shows, but this is the big last tour. Big? It's huge. 

Joan is booked for over 50 UK dates so far with European and North American dates to follow. It's just her on guitar and piano. She's taking on a lot. 

I saw Joan at the old Birmingham Odeon in 1975, after she released 'Back To The Night'. She opened for A&M labelmates Supertramp - so she sang her very personal songs to progrock kiddies in greatcoats. It's all a long time ago, but I'm sure the stage was awash with unwavering, unwatchable red light. Almost certainly she had a crappy sound mix. The lot of the support act. 

I enjoyed her set. Supertramp was another matter, so I left, crossing a post-gig Joan coming out onto the street with her mates. I hollered out 'Good set, Joan!' and got a lovely smile back.

We met later when Joan was ferried around radio stations to plug albums. I don't think she enjoyed this. But I asked for another interview because, dammit, Joan's a really important artist, and this is going to be her last tour. And, hooray, she agreed. 

How to make a small fortune promoting? Start with a large one.

Promoting small-scale gigs and making money? Defining 'folk' in 2014? Tricky.

Ben Calvert is a songwriter who runs regular Sunday night gigs and a small record label under the handle of Bohemian Jukebox. We had a terrific, lengthy and detailed conversation this past week after an email exchange triggered by a post on promoters who love what they do and the music they work with. Ben pointed out that, contrary to the popular belief that music promoter equals bloodsucker, he and many others work for ridiculously silly money. 

So we met up and he showed me his books. Guess what? He really does work for a pittance. But promoting penury hasn’t slowed him down; he loves his music. Bohemian Jukebox now runs as a venue-supported freebie at the Bulls Head in Moseley, Birmingham. After well over a decade, Ben's not getting rich; he's not alone. A huge tranche of local music businesses work this way. Without this kind of gritty idealism / bloody-mindedness / music obsessions (delete as appropriate), local scenes would be a lot poorer. 

Scary financial stuff and noble principles to follow…