A Pop Fan's Dream

Review
“Face down on a broken street
There’s a man in the corner
In a pool of misery
I’m in white van
As a red sea covers the ground

Metal crash
I can’t tell what it is
But I take a look
And now I’m sorry I did
5:30 on a Friday night
33 good people cut down” (U2 – Raised By Wolves)

It was Tuesday 6 July 1993. I decided to watch a UTV documentary called Hidden Hand: The Forgotten Massacre. It was a Yorkshire Television production about the Dublin and Monaghan bombings of 17 May 1974. Four coordinated bombs, 33 civilians dead along with a full-term unborn child. Despite having the worst death toll of The Troubles, it had faded from the public eye with other atrocities burning much brighter in our collective memory. The programmer is still on YouTube and is definitely worth investigating.

Just two weeks after the documentary broadcast, the Peace Together compilation was released. “This album brings together the best of Irish and British musicians with the express aim of creating awareness through music of a common desire for peace.” All profits raised would go towards a trust fund with the aim of funding cross-community activities for young people. Given that it’s mainly indie acts covering a variety of well known tunes, the same audience that lapped up Ruby Trax: The NME’s Roaring Forty were expected to board this (peace) train. The album was preceded by the Be Still single, released on 19th anniversary of the Dublin and Monaghan bombings with vocals shared by Feargal Sharkey, Nanci Griffith, Peter Gabriel & Sinéad O’Connor. Collectively credited to Peace Together, there were two remixes commissioned – one by Robin Guthrie which appears on this CD as a bonus track while a 12 minute excursion courtesy of the Sabres Of Paradise is hidden away on the 12″ and CD formats. The original mix is pleasant enough although it gives off a *worthy* vibe; on the other hand the version sung by Liz Frazer is a groovy show-stealer, could nearly be a great lost Cocteau Twins’ number.

Ian Dury joins forces with Curve for an intense What A Waste which takes on a menacing air due to Toni’s vocals. It’s followed by Pop Will Eat Itself’s Games Without Frontiers, an industrial version with the vox buried in the mix. And then U2 with Lou Reed and an earnest Satellite Of Love. Next come Therapy? – appropriately – covering The Police’s Invisible Sun. “I actually wrote the song in Ireland, where I was living at the time. It was during the hunger strikes in Belfast. I wanted to write about that but I wanted to show some light at the end of the tunnel. I do think there has to be an ‘invisible sun’. You can’t always see it, but there has to be something radiating light into our lives.” (Sting) The original video was banned by the BBC. Far less effective is Peace In Our Time as interpreted by Carter USM, a rare cover misfire for them. The quality dips further with a turgid take on Andy White’s Religious Persuasion which is chiefly ruined by the presence of Billy Bragg and Sinéad O’Connor. The original 1985 single is fine, a refreshing strum.

The main draw for a lot of people was a new My Bloody Valentine song. A narcoleptic version of We Have All The Time In The World is like something from the end of the world; I have vivid memories of it playing out of a boombox at the Féile ’93 campsite, as the sun came up and last of the Fosters were being sunk. And then a quite lovely Bad Weather performed by the Young Disciples followed by Fatima Mansions doing a faithful rendition of Sandy Denny’s haunting John The Gun. Much prefer their straight covers. Elvis #2: Blur tackle Oliver’s Army but don’t quite pull it off. Too knockabout. Finally there’s When We Were Two Little Boys, a mawkish duet between Rolf Harris and Liam O’Maonlai which you’re unlikely to hear anywhere unless you fork out for this CD.

Favourite tracks
My Bloody Valentine – We Have All The Time In The World

Fatima Mansions – John The Gun

Lest we forget
Peace Together – Be Still (Robin Guthrie Remix)

Review
“YANKS GO HOME!” shouted Select Magazine in April 1993. The heading “Who Do You Think You Are Kidding Mr Cobain?” saw Stuart Maconie put the case forward for ignoring the nascent grunge movement and instead focusing on the “crimplene, glamour, wit, and irony” of British bands. The future were listed as follows: Saint Etienne, Suede, Denim, Pulp, The Auteurs and it was called Britpop. And just in case you need a reminder…

Greetings From Uncle Sam was compiled by Terry Felgate and Roger James with much assistance in all legalities by Johnathon Cross. It was released during the summer of 1993. There’s a brief essay by Andrew Collins who outlines the manifesto: “This album traces a rich seam of 90s alternative US rock whose success – whether under or overground – is, in part thanks to Nirvana’s late wham-bam arrival centre stage.” The CD consists of 13 tracks lasting just under 50 minutes. On this site, it is ironically categorised under Pop UK.

We start with Sugar’s Changes. See my review of NME Singles Of The Week 1992 for more on that subject. Unlike there and Indie Top 20 Volume 16, we get the longer album version here which can only be interpreted as the compilers taking an excessive rockist stance. Next “a catchy confection of bubblegum pop, all sky-scraping solos and upbeat strummed riffs” AKA Dinosaur Jr and the radio friendly unit shifter Start Choppin’, a beguiling taster for Where You Been. Sadly we don’t get the radio edit here either; the version which is used on the heavily-caned music video. It is noted that the 7″ included the 5:40 take and the shorter version can be found on the promo CD. Meanwhile L7’s Pretend We’re Dead is the real deal; a nihilistic grunge anthem that will always pack a punch. Of course we remember the infamous Reading Festival tampon into crowd and bottomless performance on The Word too. But the music is none more ’90s.

“It means to take advantage of someone, say in a relationship, where you are like a vampire draining them of everything inside.” (Debra on Suck You Dry). Kings of fuzz, Mudhoney, make a welcome appearance next with a prominent cut from Piece Of Cake. It’s neatly paired with the more laidback Soul Asylum who come across like a cross between Axl Rose and Kurt Cobain on the reflective Black Gold. Memorable video by Zack Synder which I recall airing constantly on 120 Minutes. As did Buffalo Tom’s depressingly anthemic Tailights Fade, a melancholy masterpiece. The next track (and Start Choppin’) share some DNA with Loaded, a seminal compilation even in his youth. Belly’s Feed The Tree, a glorious almost poppier side to the 1993 mirror of blackness. Also appearing on that jukebox banger were The Lemonheads; here with catchy & crunchy Confetti. They’re logically followed by Juliana Hatfield who played on It’s Shame About Ray; we get the infectious Everybody Loves Me But You. Evan Dando on guitar.

The remainder of Greetings From Uncle Sam focus on heavier sounds. There’s shades of Cameron Crowe’s Singles floating around on Alice In Chains’ Them Bones (Would is on the soundtrack) and Soundgarden’s Rusty Cage (they contributed Birth Ritual). Jerry Cantrell on Them Bones: “I was just thinking about mortality, that one of these days we’ll end up a pile of bones. It’s a thought for every human being, whether you believe in an after-life or that when we die, that’s it. The thought that all the beautiful things and knowledge and experiences you’ve been through just end when you end scares me, the thought that when you close your eyes for good, it’s gone forever.” Meanwhile Rusty Cage is the one with the white room video. And then Firehose with the bomb that is Blaze, produced by J Mascis and a lot more palatable than previous output. Finally we end with Epic, Faith No More’s stylish 1990 smash. A somewhat unusual choice given the recent Angel Dust LP had spawned three excellent singles. But it’s one that lives up to its name, still enduring today. “You want it all but you can’t have it.” Happy Independence Day.

Dedicated to the memory of my friend Mitchel Walsh who passed away on 4 July 1995.

Favourite tracks
L7 – Pretend We’re Dead

Buffalo Tom – Tailights Fade

Lest we forget
Juliana Hatfield – Everybody Loves Me But You