Buzzcocks – Operators Manual (1991)
27/11/10
Did the Buzzcocks invent pop-punk? Probably not. Did they perfect it? You bet. Marrying glorious pop melodies, the chainsaw roar of a downstroked guitar, and the furious angst of a million confused teenagers, the Buzzcocks played punk rock that was physical, passionate, and emotionally compelling, but also joyously listenable (and danceable) in a way the Damned and the Clash could never dream of being. If the Buzzcocks Mark 1 (1976-1981) ever made a bad record, they’ve done a splendid job of keeping it a secret; all three of the group’s original albums are brilliant, and Singles Going Steady (which collects the A- and B-sides of their first eight 45s) is as perfect a compilation album as you’re ever likely to encounter. But if you’re looking for a single-disc package that covers the history of the band’s first era, Operators Manual is just what you’ve been needing; it features 11 of Singles Going Steady‘s 16 tracks (including all the A-sides), and adds 14 superb songs from the group’s three albums. And unlike Singles, Operators Manual features material from A Different Kind of Tension, and while the Buzzcocks were brilliant right out of the box, “You Say You Don’t Love Me” and “I Don’t Know What to Do With My Life” revealed a surprising maturity, and “I Believe” found Pete Shelley going past the perfect pop song into a moving (and heartbreaking) statement of purpose. Operators Manual is hardly everything you’d ever need from the Buzzcocks, but if you’re looking for an introduction to their remarkable body of work, you could hardly do better. ~ Mark Deming, AMG
Vídeo de “Love You More” (TOTP, 1978)
Ride – Carnival of Light (1994)
27/11/10
Credit Ride for using only their own creative radar, completely ignoring all outside expectations for their third LP. Listeners could tell they had a love for the likes of the Byrds and Buffalo Springfield, but admiring the Black Crowes was practically out of the question for the scene that birthed them. Even Crowes producer George Drakoulias was called in to produce, but John Leckie ended up working on the majority. Fans generally didn’t dig the classic vibe, and the lazy-daisy, pastoral record fared poorly. Carnival’s first side largely consists of Mark Gardener’s songs, while the latter is mainly Andy Bell’s affair. Gardener’s contributions are solid. “1000 Miles” lifts ’60s jangle convincingly. “From Time to Time” is a “Vapour Trail” part two of sorts, lyrically, introduced with tasteful Rhodes tones from Andy Bell. Bell’s songs, however, tend to falter. While he wrote the bulk of the band’s prior top material, he’s trumped here; in fact, Loz Colbert’s “Natural Grace” wipes the mat with Bell’s work. Perhaps Bell’s ego was too big to recognize the lyrical shortcomings of “Crown of Creation,” the poor Al Greenism of “Endless Road,” and the outright flimsiness of “I Don’t Know Where It Comes From,” which features a kiddie choir. Despite the gaps in song quality and that hackneyed Creation cover, Carnival of Light creates a pleasant, freewheeling feeling throughout. The LP might have run better with the extraction of some of the duff, which is all the more frustrating when considering the quality of the B-sides from this period. Album number three, despite its troubles, remains a pleasant listen and was unlike anything released at the time in the U.K. ~ Andy Kellman, AMG
Vídeo de “I Don’t Know Where it Comes From”
The Orchids – Lyceum + Singles (2005)
26/11/10
Suddenly infused with a spirit of permanence and likely sensing a more hostile market to come, Sarah Records looked to the Orchids for the label’s first full-length release. The band’s inoffensive jangle pop roots and their avoidance of difficult timing schemes provided hardcore indie fans with something that was at once comfortable and skilled; in fact, Lyceum could have been a lush Teenage Fanclub record if it hadn’t focused so much on mid-’80s Johnny Marr-isms. Intelligence comes at a price, though, and it would often drown out any possibility of a blossoming personality. The Orchids were taut but sometimes indistinguishable, smart but often unaware how easily they could, and would, drop into leaden simplicity, such as in the deliberate, sprawling, speckled verses and choruses of unsuccessfully subdued tracks like “Carrole-Anne.” ~ Dean Carlson, AMG
Áudio de “Caveman”
The Monochrome Set – White Noise [Early Recordings 1975-1977] (2010)
26/11/10
The Monochrome Set have a huge legacy in post-punk and indie rock history. “White Noise” represents the period before their 1st LP or 7″, before Punk really took hold in the UK, in fact. These seven songs from ’75-’77 have never appeared on vinyl before this release, and we’re thrilled to get it out there. ~ Captured Tracks
Áudio de “Inside Your Heart”
Orange Juice – The Glasgow School (2005)
16/11/10
Orange Juice‘s three albums, along with compilations of various shapes and sizes, have floated in and out of print throughout the years. This hasn’t made it convenient for anyone curious about the band, whether the interest was sparked by Haircut 100, the Jesus and Mary Chain, Belle & Sebastian, Franz Ferdinand, the unlikely mainstream success of Edwyn Collins‘ “A Girl Like You,” the history of post-punk, or the birth of indie pop. The Glasgow School, released in 2005 by Domino, contains the band’s four singles for Postcard, the bulk of Ostrich Churchyard (a disc released in 1992, containing early versions of what would become 1982′s You Can’t Hide Your Love Forever), a Stars on 45-style version of “Simply Thrilled Honey,” and a crude cover of the Ramones‘ “I Don’t Care.” For a lot of people, the material here (dating no later than 1981) is where Orange Juice begins and ends. The band signed to Polydor soon after the latest song on this disc was recorded, and they promptly gave their sound a coat of shiny wax — so they helped invent indie pop, only to abandon it before their first album. Though the notion extends throughout Orange Juice‘s discography, they were nothing if not fearless. What other way is there to describe lyrics like “I wore my fringe like Roger McGuinn‘s/I was hoping to impress/So frightfully camp — you laughed,” or their wholly convincing (if occasionally gawky) way of bouncing the jangly folk-rock of the Byrds off the fat-bottomed disco drive of Chic, all the while creating an identity all their own? Both the singles and the Ostrich Churchyard takes are as crafty as they are crude, and if you can’t get past the amateurishness, there’s plenty of winsome attitude to win you over. This disc serves as proof that, along with Josef K, Associates, Altered Images, Simple Minds, Cocteau Twins, and the Scars, Orange Juice helped make Scotland a very productive resource during the post-punk/new wave era. ~ Andy Kellman, AMG
Áudio de “Poor Old Soul Pt. One”
Girls at Our Best – Pleasure (1981)
14/11/10
Featuring, oddly enough, a pre-fame Thomas Dolby here and there on keyboards, Girls at Our Best‘s sole album, Pleasure, is an underrated delight, tempering the sometimes harsh edge of the earliest singles to an equally passionate and entertaining approach not afraid to be calm here and there. With Harper now firmly settled into the drum seat, the quartet touched on everything from Siouxsie and the Banshees’ arty edge to Gang of Four aggro-funk and full-on power pop catchiness, and did so brilliantly. Evans’ voice was at its considerable best at many points, sometimes so light that it was hard to catch what was being sung, but often able to deliver her sometimes wry, sometimes sunny, but always smart sentiments just right. The hilarious rip on capitalist dreams “Waterbed Babies” and the sly “China Blue” are two particular winners. The sprightly, full-bodied music didn’t lack for excitement either, and unlike the rote exercise that much of indie rock later became, there’s still an exploratory, honest freshness about the arrangements. Call it the surfy leads Alan throws in here than there, the very intentional disco quotes on “Heaven,” or trying out subtle tempo shifts at points for variety within a song, but there’s plenty of random joy to be had, down to the guest clarinet on “Fun-City Teenagers.” Excellent as it was, Pleasure didn’t have the band’s defining moment, the absolutely brilliant debut single “Getting Nowhere Fast,” which gained posthumous fame via a cover version on the Wedding Present’s debut album. Sharp, short, and perfectly catchy down to its sudden edit ending two minutes in, it’s one of the highlights of turn of the ’80s Brit rock. Happily, that track, plus all the other studio cuts of the band’s career — including a delightful cover of the traditional “This Train,” aka “Bound for Glory” — and a slew of period clippings in the artwork all appear on the Vinyl Japan CD re-release. ~ Ned Raggett, AMG
Vídeo de “Fast Boyfriends”
Bart & Friends – I Was Lonely ’til I Found You (2001)
12/11/10
Here’s Bart of the Cat’s Miaow (et al), joined here by Andrew (CM), Mia (Sleepy Township), and Mark (???). To be honest, I always preferred Bart’s songs in Cat’s Miaow, so it should go without saying that I think this is absolutely great! He’s got such a great indiepop voice! Like the last disc, we’re treated to a few covers, including the Buzzcocks’ “Boredom” (a very cool quiet version), Kate Bush’s “Hounds Of Love” & a Magazine tune. Also redone is LAX, from the Cat’s Miaow fanclub 7″, only this time played as a pop song (as opposed to the spacey 7″ version). Unlike the last cd, there really are only seven songs on this (no bonus tracks), and at a little over 14 minutes, it is a little short, but very good nonetheless. ~ Indiepages
Áudio de “How Can You Tell Me You Love Me?”
Big Star – #1 Record (1972)
12/11/10
A pop masterpiece!!!
The problem with coming in late on an artwork lauded as “influential” is that you’ve probably encountered the work it influenced first, so its truly innovative qualities are lost. Thus, if you are hearing Big Star‘s debut album for the first time decades after its release (as, inevitably, most people must), you may be reminded of Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers or R.E.M., who came after — that is, if you don’t think of the Byrds and the Beatles, circa 1965. What was remarkable about #1 Record in 1972 was that nobody except Big Star (and maybe Badfinger and the Raspberries) wanted to sound like this — simple, light pop with sweet harmonies and jangly guitars. Since then, dozens of bands have rediscovered those pleasures. But in a way, that’s an advantage because, whatever freshness is lost across the years, Big Star‘s craft is only confirmed. These are sturdy songs, feelingly performed, and once you get beyond the style to the content, you’ll still be impressed. ~ William Ruhlmann, AMG
Áudio de “Thirteen”
This Mortal Coil – Blood (1991)
12/11/10
The third and final album by This Mortal Coil, 1991′s Blood is neither as unfocused as Filigree & Shadow or as conceptually pure as It’ll End in Tears, but it’s a solidly enjoyable set. Once again, nearly half the tracks are instrumentals (or tracks with minimal and often wordless female vocals) written by Ivo Watts-Russell and John Fryer, but this batch of tunes holds together much better than the much more amorphous originals on Filigree & Shadow; lengthy atmospheric explorations like “Dreams Are Like Water” sound composed and thoughtful rather than merely pretty. And as always, the covers are brilliantly chosen. The twin highlights are two songs written by Big Star‘s Chris Bell; “I Am the Cosmos” is reinterpreted as a ragged, brink-of-chaos rocker that sounds like it could have been on Big Star‘s post-Bell magnum opus, Third, while a delicate acoustic version of “You and Your Sister” with wispy, unsure vocals by Kim Deal and Tanya Donelly ranks with the first album’s reinterpretation of Tim Buckley‘s “Song to the Siren” as one of the group’s masterpieces. Other gems include a near-symphonic reading of Spirit‘s “Nature’s Way” and a version of Syd Barrett‘s “Late Night” that strips the song down to not much more than Caroline Crawley‘s voice and a low-frequency hum. ~ Stewart Mason, AMG
Vídeo de “With Tomorrow” (audio only)
