Drab Majesty ‎- Completely Careless

Eight years have swiftly passed since Drab Majesty entered the dreary pop realm of translucent surrealism and public fascination. With each passing moment, the creator Deb Demure (aka Andrew Clinco) depicts increasing complexities within the soubrette known to some as Drab Majesty. Since its inception, for the first 3 years the Drab Majesty venture has yielded a self-released edition entitled “Unarian Dances”, a collaborative vinyl release with legendary Eleven Pond, celebratory EP “Unknown to the I” and debut full length album “Careless”. Dais Records has gathered the Drab Majesty discography up until 2015 into a compilation compact disc styled as Completely Careless (2012-2015), comprised of 18 compositions, two of which are previously unreleased.

I listened to “Completely Careless” with headphones on because without that intimate connection shoved into my ears at point-blank range I had failed to connect with Drab Majesty’s debut LP as thoroughly as I had the “Unknown to the I” single (which, admittedly, would have been tough to follow under any circumstances). Now that I’ve lain in bed with “Completely Careless” for a bit, however, I can see how it was a natural progression. Tracks like the surprisingly energetic, plucky “Everything is Sentimental” are produced with more shine, which almost seems to drub their subtleties into submission. But, like I said, a closer listen reveals so much more. The subtleties not only exist, but are intricately woven into the fabric of the compositions. In the end though, “Completely Careless” at its core, is a collection of moody mechanical beats, isolated ruminations, and stimulating guitar arpeggios that equate to more than the sum of their parts by a wide margin. If you listen from a distance it will feel cold and clinical; venture further into the void and you’ll likely realize why Drab Majesty have been showered with hype over the last few years.

Overall, sampling this vintage sound evokes new wave and dark wave overtones, while post-punk and indie guitars fill the palate, and ephemeral waves soar over deep electronics that leave a hint of synthpop as an ever so sweet aftertaste. It pairs well with solo listening; and is perfectly suitable for a moody sway across a dance floor; or for standing alone in an even more dimly lit bedroom.

Visage – 12” Singles

I’m not going to waffle on here about two banging Visage 12” singles as the debut album is coming to the blog in the next month or so (I haven’t decided yet, this is kinda like a trial to gauge interest). If there was ever a band that made hit after hit of electronic music, it has to be Visage. Members coming from the emerging New Romantic movement based around the BLITZ Club in London’s Soho district, with Midge Ure and Rusty Egan who were working with ex-Pistol Glen Matlock in The Rich Kids, Billy Currie on keyboards from Ultravox  and three members of Magazine, John McGeoch (guitar), Dave Formula (keyboards) and Barry Adamson (bass). Stir this talent with Steve Strange fronting the band and knob twiddler extraordinaire Martin Rushant in the studio, the results can only be brilliant. Er, no! Debut single “Tar” was released on Radar Records in September 1979, no one was interested. David Bowie however popped along to BLITZ Club in mid-1980 to ask if Steven and a couple of other regulars would appear in his video for Ashes To Ashes, which helped to propel the New Romantic movement into the mainstream. November 1980 and Visage’s second single “Fade To Grey” was released finally breaking into the UK top twenty early in 1981. 

Ultravox - Ha! Ha! Ha!

FLICKING IDLY through a rack and coming across an album entitled ‘Ha! Ha! Ha!’ you’d expect, if not a comic masterpiece, at least a couple of wry smiles. You certainly won't find anything like that here. This is an album of such unrelenting seriousness (unless, that is, I just failed to discover otherwise) that it makes Van Morrison’s ‘T.B. Sheets’ seem positively flip. I wasn’t looking for, let alone expecting, belly laughs but I was hoping for wit, because humour is necessary, even in the midst of unrelenting seriousness. Not as light relief, but as a necessary correction of perspective. Maybe it’s even an essential gesture of humanity. And humanity is the last thing I you’ll find in Ultravox! What can you expect from someone who tells you, as Ultravox! singer and writer John Foxx did to me, that in all honesty, he'd rather be a machine? As far as I could understand, he said that from a (wildly shared) belief that our civilization is up the creek without a paddle, there’s no hope left, only the possibility of observing things fall apart at the seams and maybe commenting on them. Just the song titles would make his attitude clear. ‘Fear In The Western World’, ‘Artificial Life', ‘Hiroshima Mon Amour’ (which doesn’t appear to have anything in common with the film of the same title). Simply he's got a common art school type of outlook, compounded of equal parts despair and distaste without the redeeming element of caring. If that seems to laying undue weight on the lyrics, it's unavoidable because not only are the 5 words given prominence but even the music itself is infected with a kind of literariness; where effect is used for its own sake. Hearing the first track in a booth you'd be misled. ‘Rock-work’ is just what you’d expect from the title. Thereafter the songs become an uneven mixture of the adventurous, the orthodox (especially the arthritic drumming) and the wilfully different. Great chunks of it are a case study of the bad affects the mere acquisition of a synthesiser can have on a band. On their first album Ultravox! seemed to be tentatively groping towards their own fusion of simple rock songs with a few sophisticated ideas. Here they’ve mostly rejected the possibilities of the accessible pop song, using only catch phrase choruses (often with infuriating insistence) and relied wholesale on what they probably see as the avant-garde and the more cynical soul might feel were mere noises. If there were ever a band that cried out to be crucified on the discipline of the three minute single, It's Ultravox!

Pete Silverton Sounds 22.10.77

Asian Knights

More from the vault marked Siouxsie And The Banshees, Live. Continuing the love of all things Banshees and especially the Bob Smith year of service I have one of the few warm up gigs that allowed the band to iron out any creases before their big gigs in The Royal Albert Hall. Bob holds his own here with a John McGeoch set that would test even the best. The sound here is really good, as you’d expect with a Japanese performance from the 80’s with only Painted Bird suffering from the dreaded tape flip. All the usual suspects are represented with Steve and Budgie doing their best to evoke the sounds of an earthquake during Fireworks through sheer bloody mindedness. If you expect any punches to be pulled for the new boy on guitar, forget it. Siouxsie gives her usual perfect is the only option performance and shows off her live chops through-out the blistering set list. My only gripe is the lack of early singles, but by now the Banshees had officially moved on and nearly all traces of the first incarnation had been wiped away. A document of a short period in time of a constantly evolving, almost everlasting band.

Seventh Dream Of Teenage Heaven

Though the years have deadened its impact somewhat, there is still a visceral thrill to be drawn from replaying the first Love and Rockets album, a sense of the first step taken towards a brave new world, and a miasmic whirl of psychedelic intent that masks intents even darker than the preceding Bauhaus ever envisioned. Recorded and released in 1985, riding to club acclaim on the back of the "Ball of Confusion" remake, and aligning its makers with a destiny and fame that no one could ever have predicted, Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven ranks among the most deceptive debut albums of the 1980s. The keys to the album remain the same, of course; the churning guitar soup of "The Dog-End of a Day Gone By," the sibilant glam sexuality of the title track, the chilling nursery rhyme pendulum of "The Game." But the opiate atmosphere that chokes the wide open spaces leavened within every song only thickens by the time you hit the closing acoustics of "Saudade," and Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven emerges as profound an experience as any of the lauded trips of the original psychedelic era. It rounds out the experience with dramatic flair, pinpointing the sheer creativity that was sparking around Love and Rockets at the dawn of their decade-long career; and reminding you that that decade was over all too quickly.

Led Zeppelin II

Between the release of the band’s first, eponymous album and this, their second, Led Zeppelin had completed four US and UK tours. Thus II, by necessity, was recorded on the road in the States and while it received many tweaks before it reached the shops it still has a live feel that few rock albums have ever come close to. Engineer, Eddie Kramer, uses his expertise in taming the live guitar for the confines of a studio as Robert, Jimmy, John Paul and John rip through their raggedy book of blues standards and poppier exercises in sword and sorcery–tinged rock folk. Unsurprisingly the album contained what would become the some of the band’s defining live statements. ''Whole Lotta Love'' was born to be played live, for hours. Its truncated studio cousin just replaces the rockabilly medleys with swooping theremin and rattling toms. The riff was pilfered (from Willie Dixon) but still mighty. ''What Is And What Should Never Be'' demonstrates what Jimmy always used to burble on about in interviews about 'using light and shade'. It’s quietly jazzy and pastoral, and then in the chorus it rocks like a mother. See also ''Ramble On'', with added Tolkien references. ''Thank You'' is a nod to Plant's West Coast predilections. This leaves the rockers like ''Heartbreaker'' (again a fine platform for a lengthy stage work-out), its lightweight follow-on ''Livin' Lovin Maid'' and the blues molestations. Oh, and ''Moby Dick''. Probably the result of limited time to present product to 'the man' at Atlantic, the band included this 4-minute romp across the skins by Bonham. It ain't pretty though its low-D riff is, again, a monster. Mind you, the blues molestations more than make up for this slightest of hiccups. ''The Lemon Song'' (Howlin’ Wolf’s ''Killing Floor'' slowed down and sleazed up) is a great demonstration of how, live, Zeppelin locked together like no one else, making all resistance impossible. ''Bring It On Home'', Sonny Boy Williamson's already sleazy slouch is here picked up by the scruff of the neck and kicked across the room by Jimmy's new, turbo-charged riff. This is the sound of a band having its last major tussle with the genre that gave birth to them: The Blues. From this point on they'd be nobody’s band but their own.

From The Lions Mouth Re-upped

An assured, relatively loose follow-up to the fraught and frayed Jeopardy, From the Lion's Mouth entrenched the Sound's stature as no mere flash in the pan. It should have shot them directly between spots occupied by the like-minded Joy Division and Echo & the Bunnymen as post-punk legends, but the Fates had something else in mind, and so the quartet took their place right next to touring mates the Comsat Angels in the section marked "Deserved Better." With some semblance of a recording budget, the Sound went into the studio with talented producer Hugh Jones on board to accentuate the band's winning atmospherics. As a result, the sound is fuller, less pungent. And speaking of winning, the snake-charming opener "Winning" is like a dash of cold water in the faces of all the bands that were wallowing and withering away at the weeping well: "I was going to drown/Then I started swimming/I was going down/then I started winning." This, in a sense, exemplifies the point that the Sound were not mopes. They had their problems with life, but rather than just vent or escape from them, they confront them and ask questions and attempt to sort it all out. Most of the record has an effortless thrust to it, and only occasionally -- for maximum effect -- does the Sound whip out the heavy artillery. If "The Fire" sounds too bombastic and pummelling, listen closer. The bass is the lead instrument, the keyboards are just as prominent as the guitars, and it only sounds like chest beating compared to the rest of the songs. From the Lion's Mouth shifts, glides, winds, accelerates, and decelerates with all the grace and precision of an Olympic downhill skier. And what a great record it is.

The Modern World

As is so often the case for overnight successes, The Jam rush-recorded their sophomore effort during a hurried schedule to capitalize on the barnstorming debut, In The City. This, combined with Paul Weller's various personal distractions and temporary lack of interest, led to a belief that This Is The Modern World has less than satisfying overall results. With the luxury of time and hindsight we can all now calm down, settle back, and make a better consideration of this assured, and underrated, record. Yes, This Is the Modern World can be faulted for borrowed Who licks, pale rewrites of the debut, somewhat clichéd sloganeering and unfinished ideas, but there were still some moments of inspiration, especially in the more introspective Weller songs like "Life From a Window" and "I Need You (For Someone)"; both songs feature personal sentiments that the debut was clearly missing. This Is The Modern World is a work of continued growth and depth in song writing and performance from Weller and its reputation as their ‘sophomore slump’ is completely unfounded. There are indeed repeats of the formula of the first album, including "In the Street Today", "All Around the World", and the title track; the latter two released as singles, underscoring the effort to capitalize on the success of that sound in the UK; but also tracks like "London Girl" and "Standards" illustrate the continued maturity of strong passionate songs without needing to be overly frenetic. Elsewhere, though, listeners are privy to a glimpse into the future with “Life from a Window”, “The Combine”, “I Need You (for Someone)” and “Tonight at Noon”, which, although not always typical of later Jam musings, reveal a rapid development in Weller's approach to song writing, and point to a growing ensemble skill between the band members (which includes some nice harmonising / vocal sharing between Weller and Foxton). If The Jam were on borrowed time when they made This Is the Modern World; then during the recording of demos for the next LP, time up and deserted them completely. But as we know, The Jam got their act together - and how - and we got All Mod Cons. We needn't have worried ourselves so much. So just kick back, relax, and enjoy the music on this exhilarating, if occasionally undernourished album.

Nobody's Heroes

It's easy to see why Stiff Little Fingers' Rough Trade debut remains so highly rated, but for the discerning fan of second generation punk, Nobody's Heroes is every bit as special. For a start, new drummer Jim Reilly was an improvement on Brian Faloon (who gets a heart-warming tribute on "Wait and See"). Secondly, Jake Burns' song writing collaborations with journalist Gordon Ogilvie are really beginning to pay off. The cornerstones of the LP are "Gotta Gettaway," "At the Edge," and "Tin Soldiers" -- three songs which, in different ways, brilliantly articulate the frustrated ambitions of young men in search of expression and identity, trapped in nowhere jobs or situations. Though "Suspect Device" and "Alternative Ulster" had long since ensured they would always be tagged with the label of "political punk," in truth SLF were always more interested in their immediate environment, and finding a way out of it. A couple of plausible stabs at reggae are more than an interesting aside.

The Las Vegas Story

The third album by The Gun Club, The Las Vegas Story, was released in June 1984. A lot of different dates are mentioned, of which June 15th and 25th seem the most legit, but I haven’t found any confirmation on both. The month of June is definitely correct. The band’s sound had become more melodic and had moved away a little from its punk roots, resulting in a kind of alternative rock. The album was dedicated to Debbie Harry “for her love, help and encouragement”.

After the intro in The Las Vegas Story the album starts off with the fantastic drum beat to Walking With the Beast. Feedback and divine singing immediately sets the tone and level for the rest of the album. And, the band keeps it up. The great Eternally Is Here is followed by A Stranger In Our Town, the unsettling story about a (necrophiliac?) serial killer: “There’s a stranger in our town / pulls out a punks spinal cord / piss and blood on the sidewalk of hearts”. The best The Gun Club ever recorded, My Dreams, closes the first side of the vinyl album. The beautiful music almost detonates with the paranoid lyrics, “You can’t take my dreams / You can’t take my dreams / You can’t take and steal from this body…”. The anger, sorrow and fear come together in the last sentence that keeps on being repeated until the end of the song: “They were supposed to be MY DREAMS”. Beautiful!

Time for side two then. Two covers that smoothly transition from one into the other. The short instrumental The Master Plan turns into My Man Is Gone Now, originally a part of the George Gershwin opera Porgy and Bess. The Gun Club turns it into a heart wrenching blues: impressive! Bad America is about what the title suggests. America is bad and is to blame for all that is wrong with the world and Pierce’s life. Moonlight Motel is sung from the viewpoint of a prostitute: “Low rates and color T.V. / Money on the bed, left there for me and / One of these days I’ll kill you while you sleep…”. Even more seamy side on the album’s closing Give Up The Sun: “Oh, don’t you leave me here / There’s ghosts and rooms of pain / There’s a storm out on the sea tonight / And bodies filled with pain / Palm wind across the sea tonight / Black with whirling pain / Alone against the docks tonight / Nobody knows my name”.

In short, an album filled with anger, sorrow, loneliness, desperation, pain and hopelessness. Happy? No. Beautiful? Yes, and then some!

Wilder

Behold the greatest dysfunctional family in pop. The Gallagher brothers might dislike each other, but unlike The Teardrop Explodes, they never chased each other around the hills of Wales with loaded shotguns. A leaf through Julian Cope’s autobiography will show you what precious, vindictive scumbags Liverpool’s abiding gift to psychotropic pop were. That from such a primordial, seething soup of bile and chaos they managed to produce two of the defining albums of their age is a measure of their brilliance.

After a trio of mesmerising indie singles, the Teardrops signed for a major and, fuelled by LSD psychosis and mutual loathing, they went to Wales to make their psychepunkefunkedelic thang happen. The result was ‘Kilimanjaro’. Restored to twice its former glory, with bonus tracks and the reinstated original (crap) sleeve, it’s as frazzled as it was in 1980. Copey loved his hypnotic bass thud, as ‘Poppies In The Field’ and ‘Sleeping Gas’ attest, but he couldn’t quite lock the big chorus out of his head. Hence the glorious ‘Treason’, the, erm, dreamy ‘When I Dream’ and ‘Brave Boys Keep Their Promises’, which sounds a lot more like Wham!’s ‘Young Guns’ than the Modern Antiquarian would care to remember.

One huge hit single (‘Reward’) later and the Teardrops had it all to do. Their second album was set to be the smash of 1981, but as their crusading pop army dissolved into petty squabbling, it never quite happened. ‘Wilder’ bombed on its release, but it’s the 360-degree sound sensation that justified Cope’s delusions of grandeur. Wilful, unfocused and gloriously sloppy, Cope out Arthur-Leed Arthur Lee to make the Love album that never was. Two awesome singles (‘Colours Fly Away’ and ‘Passionate Friend’) colour the medieval darkness but the lumbering closer, ‘The Great Dominions’, saw the Teardrops make their final meander into genius.

A stillborn third album followed and then they were no more. A few years back, keyboard player and Food Records boss David Balfe allegedly invited his former bandmates and Liverpool cohorts to his celebrated ‘house in the country’. Not to celebrate old times but to show them a bank statement that proved he had £2m, before throwing them all off the premises.

Like the great love affairs, the greatest hatreds last forever.

Jim Wirth

Hot Fuss

Science: if you accept the principle of infinity (go with us here, because if you don’t you’re pretty much rubbishing every rule in the known universe from ‘gravity’ to ‘people who wear scarves indoors being idiots’) then, taken to its logical conclusion, every permutation of every possibility will eventually happen. So it was only a matter of time before the world of rock’n’roll threw up a band from Las Vegas (say it again – Las Vegas) who wished beyond wishes that they’d been born into the rain-soaked drudgery of 1980s British indie. To the point where the four members used to race each other to get the only two copies of this magazine that got stocked in Vegas. So let’s not be under any illusions: The Killers are weird.

The first great thing about this band is that, after an epoch in thrall to garage rock, they’re about to make U2 cool again. Better still, they inhabit a world of snuff and nonsense where hermaphrodites dance in casino halls and boyfriends murder girlfriends over bottles of bourbon; a stadium rock ‘Baywatch Nights’ with morals and cumshots. They are a band of Smiths fans from Las Vegas. Their singer is called Brandon Flowers. Their bass player looks like Jesus… on paper, The Killers are fantastic, and live they’re even better. So, naturally, we’ve been pretty excited about them for a while now. And half of ‘Hot Fuss’ is just as good. This half: singles ‘Mr Brightside’ and ‘Somebody Told Me’ (which you already know). ‘Jenny Was A Friend Of Mine’ (Duran Duran with better basslines and dirtier hair), ‘All The Things That I’ve Done’ (for its gospel catcall ”I’ve got soul but I’m not a soldier”) and ‘On Top’ (icy synthtronica meets Springsteen) are all the equals of Bono or Le Bon. Then, just like a Baywatch Nights episode, it all goes a bit “tits up”.

If it was just that the rest of the album was beige filler, things would be simple. But it isn’t. There’s

a song toward the end of ‘Hot Fuss’ called ‘Glamorous Indie Rock & Roll’, which is possibly the most teeth-grindingly embarrassing thing you will hear in your entire life. Its chorus, and we’re not lying, goes, “Its indie rock’n’roll for me!” Jesus, Brandon, people go into rehab for less. But (and it’s a big but), being a band of Smiths fans from Las Vegas, maybe it’s just excruciating because it’s honest, and maybe Mr Flowers is no more smart or guilty than those loveable idiots who ring up Westwood every weekend pretending to be black. And that’s before you realise that ‘Glamorous Indie Rock & Roll’ is actually a facsimile of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’, and you realise that The Killers’ charm is to be clever and clueless both at once. Still, hate the sin, love the sinner. And The Killers have made half of the album of the year.

Dan Martin – N.M.E.

The Cult – Love

1985's Love displayed a marked improvement over the Cult's early material, and though it remains underappreciated in America (worldwide it was a smash), this exceptional record has actually aged better than the band's more notorious (and equally important) releases: Electric and Sonic Temple. Equal parts psychedelic hard rock and new wave goth, the songs on Love emanate a bright guitar sheen, tight arrangements, crisp drumming, and a command performance from vocalist Ian Astbury, who as usual says a lot more with less than most singers. Overall, the album benefits from a wonderful sense of space, thanks in large part to guitarist Billy Duffy (who is much more subdued here than on future releases), whose restraint is especially notable on "Revolution" and the remarkably uncluttered title track. Duffy also provides compelling melodies ("Hollow Man," "Revolution"), driving riffs ("Nirvana," "The Phoenix"), and even a U2-like intro to "Big Neon Glitter." Also on offer is the near-perfect "She Sells Sanctuary" and the smash hit "Rain," quite possibly the band's most appealing single ever. Considering the musical schizophrenia that would plague each subsequent Cult release, Love just may be the band's purest moment.

Reggatta de Blanc

By 1979's Reggatta de Blanc (translation: White Reggae), nonstop touring had sharpened the Police's original blend of reggae-rock to perfection, resulting in breakthrough success. Containing a pair of massive hit singles (the inspirational anthem "Message in a Bottle" and the spacious "Walking on the Moon") the album also signalled a change in the band's sound. Whereas their debut got its point across with raw, energetic performances, Reggatta de Blanc was much more polished production-wise and fully developed from a song writing standpoint. While vigorous rockers did crop up from time to time ("It's Alright for You," "Deathwish," "No Time This Time," and the Grammy-winning instrumental title track), the material was overall much more sedate than the debut; "Bring on the Night," "The Bed's Too Big Without You," and "Does Everyone Stare." Also included was one of Stewart Copeland's two lead vocal appearances on a Police album, the witty "On Any Other Day," as well as one of the band's most eerie tracks, "Contact." With Reggatta de Blanc, many picked Sting and company to be the superstar band of the '80s, and the Police would prove them correct on the band's next release.

Eternally Yours

While the into-the-wind blare of the title cut was what people remembered best, the Saints' first album, (I'm) Stranded, had a lot more musical variety than it was generally given credit for in 1977, and the band stayed much farther from the standard punk template (which had solidified with remarkable speed in the wake of the Sex Pistols) on their second LP, Eternally Yours. For their sophomore outing, the Saints threw actual tempo changes, horn charts, keyboards, and R&B accents into the mix, which didn't endear them to punk purists, who predictably didn't recognize that these changes had only strengthened the band's sound. Anyone looking for blazing 4/4 punk will find it in "Lost and Found" and "Private Affair," but the horn-fuelled "Know Your Product" and "Orstralia" proved that punk could also sound soulful (Rocket from the Crypt owe their entire career to these cuts); the moody "A Minor Aversion," "Untitled," and "Memories Are Made of This" proved the Saints could slow it down and still sound tough and impassioned; and "This Perfect Day" is quite possibly the greatest song this band would ever record; Chris Bailey's sneer of "It's so funny I can't laugh" is alone worth the price of admission. While Eternally Yours is a bit less consistent than (I'm) Stranded, the material is first-rate, the band sounds better than ever, and the approach suggests the pop-smart eclecticism of the band's mid-'80s period fused with the muscle and ferocity of their debut. Maybe Eternally Yours didn't sound like a standard-issue punk album in 1978, but it's stood the test of time much better than most of the work of punk's first graduating class.

Give 'Em Enough Rope

Can Rudie fail? No, no he can't. The Clash made this abundantly clear by incorporating the message into two of their very best songs ("TWO?!?!" cries the casual the Clash fan, "WHAAAA?!?"). While we're all familiar with "Rudie Can't Fail" from London Calling, there is also a lesser-known Clash song called "Safe European Home" that also brandishes this lyric in an equally epic and climactic sing-along. The song, a rocker with a reggae breakdown, is highly enigmatic. Musically, it seems to suggest that the Clash are growing restless in the safety and non-experimentation of three-chord punk rock, brandishing a relatively unorthodox song structure and an experimental ending complete with a fade-out and a fade-in. Lyrically, on the other hand, it states that they have ventured out into new physical territory (Jamaica) only to hastily retreat back to the safety of the environment they know (Europe). Nice.

Sandwiched between The Clash and London Calling, two of the finest albums in punk (and the latter in all of music), Give ‘Em Enough Rope does not get the attention it deserves. At the point of this recording, the Clash were a band in transition. The sound on this album is slicker than that of their first, and the non-punk elements pop up sooner rather than later; and continue to poke their head up consistently through the album (a little honky tonk piano here, a little cowbell there). If you don't have this and you've ever wondered what the hell got into the guys between `77 and `79, you owe it to yourself to pick this up.

A Trip to Marineville

Cacophonous and anarchic, imbued with an insular irony, and inspired equally by punk primitivism and Krautrock experimentalism, the Swell Maps pioneered a hyper-intelligent yet unforgivingly amateurish approach to music-making that sounds now like a blueprint for all the aspiring art-school noisemakers that came in their wake. Never popular, always marginal, the band seemed to have operated with a sublime indifference to any potential audience they might have had, which makes them a contrarian's dream, the perfect band to listen to in order to indulge one's masochism and sullen anti-social tendencies at the same time, all without surrendering the cachet attached to being into something obscure that's not overtly silly. Because their records have been relatively hard to track down, the band acquired a path-breaking reputation perhaps out of proportion to their actual accomplishments, but now that it’s been reissued by Secretly Canadian (with a few bonus tracks and video material tacked on, but not with the integral singles "Read About Seymour" and "Let's Build a Car"), you'll be able to evaluate their bastard punk prog for yourself.

Released in 1979, the band's first full-length album, A Trip to Marineville (the title was taken from an episode of "Stingray") is slightly more accessible, but not because it has all that many hooks or melodies or anything like that. Swell Maps approach to song-writing involves pounding out a riff or chord progression over and over again (on chunky, thickly distorted guitars or on a piano) while unexpected noises and abstruse, sullenly intoned vocals are layered on top. Borrowing much from the loosely structured jams of Can, this strategy would ultimately be adopted by bands like Flipper and the Germs. Impenetrable at first, songs quickly grow on you, if only through their sheer repetition, their relentless momentum. On the cover is a photo of a house on fire, very appropriate to how the album opens, with well-orchestrated burst of three short, explosive tracks that run together seamlessly: the sneering "H.S. Art", which repeatedly asks "Do you believe in art?" with such scorn that it's clear you don't if you have to stop and ask; the metacritique of "Another Song", which seems to question its own right to exist as it co-opts pop-song formula, and the concise, incisive "Vertical Slum". The rest of the album eschews such tight focus, and progressively becomes more difficult listening. Songs that begin with crisp, throbbing riffs and well-layered guitars ("Midget Submarines" and "Harmony in Your Bathroom") have endings that stretch out and devolve into chaos. And the instrumentals mount up as well, starting with the innocuous piano and found noise fragment "Don't Throw Ashtrays at Me!" and moving through the drifting, meditative "Gunboats" and climaxing with "Adventures into Basketry", a spontaneous eight-minute noise fest that sounds like an autistic drum circle conducted during an air raid. This discursive experiment in discord certainly sound liberating for the band, but if you can't get lost in the accidental textures of random noises colliding and patterns disintegrating, if you can't get off vicariously on their freedom, you'll probably grow impatient with it all. More successful is "Full Moon in My Pocket" and "Blam!!" which are really one song, an extended homage to the quintessential Can epic, "Mother Sky". Using staccato bass notes to punctuate a fluid groove and elliptical lyrics to invite abstruse speculation, these songs are perhaps the closest Swell Maps comes to achieving an effective synthesis of deliberate artistry and open-endedness, suggesting for a few sublime moments that these are natural complements to each other.

Rob Horning

Do It Yourself

As punk rock morphed into post-punk and new wave at the end of the 1970s, disco remained the shaping force of the Top 40. It was to attract some highly surprising converts. While ABBA’s Voulez-Vous embraced the post-Saturday Night Fever dancefloor revival, so did the album that was kept off the No.1 spot. On his previous album, New Boots And Panties!!, Ian Dury’s music had been a maverick mix of pub rock, punk and ye olde music hall. Those traits remained intact on Do It Yourself, their bizarre follow-up, yet tracks like Don’t Ask Me threw lop-sided disco shapes beneath lines like “’Ere I stand, with a doughnut for a brain.” The album was big fun and The Blockheads remained unlikely to be mistaken for Shalamar: Cockney imprecations such as “Spread your chickens” and “What the Dickens?” (Inbetweenies) and “Fill a Durex full of water!” (Mischief) made sure of that. “Shitters are a wank!” grunted Dury, on Uneasy Sunny Day Hotsy-Totsy. Dury remains to this day a complete one-off voice in the history of UK music, which at once seems massively of the time yet also retains a timeless essence. From the infectious pub-rock funk of Waiting For Your Taxi to the unmistakable and quintessentially English strut of Quiet, it’s all good stuff. Dury always operated a strict policy of not including singles on his albums, but this edition does and captures a vital period in Ian Dury’s remarkable career. Do It Yourself is a tremendous celebration of one of the most downright curious albums ever to scale the giddy heights of No.2 in the UK albums chart.

Armed Forces

After releasing and touring the intense This Year's Model, Elvis Costello quickly returned to the studio with the Attractions to record his third album, Armed Forces. In contrast to the stripped-down pop and rock of his first two albums, Armed Forces boasted a detailed and textured pop production, but it was hardly lavish. However, the more spacious arrangements (complete with ringing pianos, echoing reverb, layered guitars, and harmonies) accent Costello's melodies, making the record more accessible than his first two albums. Perversely, while the sound of Costello's music was becoming more open and welcoming, his songs became more insular and paranoid, even though he cloaked his emotions well. Many of the songs on Armed Forces use politics as a metaphor for personal relationships, particularly fascism, which explains its working title, Emotional Fascism. Occasionally, the lyrics are forced, but the music never is; the album demonstrates the depth of Costello's compositional talents and how he can move from the hook-laden pop of "Accidents Will Happen" to the paranoid "Goon Squad" with ease. Some of the songs, like the light reggae of "Two Little Hitler’s" and the impassioned "Party Girl," build on his strengths, while others like the layered "Oliver's Army" take Costello into new territories. It's a dense but accessible pop record and ranks as his third masterpiece in a row.

Toyah! Toyah! Toyah!

Featuring the diminutive Toyah Wilcox when she was more Siouxsie Sioux and not so much Kate Bush, Toyah! Toyah! Toyah! captures a 1980 concert in Wolverhampton, which was also filmed for a U.K. television documentary on the brittle singer/songwriter/actress/cult figure. She's an acquired taste with that kind of severe personality and delivery (and even more severe hair) that could only come from the U.K. and only in the '80s. If you're not familiar, don't start here. Start with some kind of hits collection that includes the later singles "It's a Mystery" and "I Want to Be Free" and leave this to the fans (including myself) who crave a document of her scrappy early years. With only two albums under her belt at the time of this recording, the new wave diva sounds urgent, hungry, and just as sharp as her haircut while her band rocks with that jagged, amphetamine beat, occasionally slowing down for the dramatic sci-fi numbers like "Insects." A year later she would release the fantastical and heavy album Anthem and began phase two of her career, so this is a kiss goodbye to the days of Derek Jarman and anti-establishment with some songs that wouldn't be on future set lists. Not that there's any other kind of Toyah fan, but this is strictly for the hardcore.

Fire And Water (Remembering Dave Greenfield)

In 1979, the Stranglers were at their most prolific with a live contractual album, a studio album considered by many to be their finest and solo albums from the band's two frontmen. After 1979, for a couple of years the band hit something of a low, beset as they were with multiple problems, personal and financial and not all of human making (potentially!). However, in 1983, the Stranglers' phoenix rose once again from the ashes with the release of 'Feline'. Whilst the album was not to everyone's taste (it represented a radical departure from the norm, even for a band with a reputation for challenging the expectations of their fan base), but the band were obviously comfortable and confident with this new direction. On the live front, they embarked on a tour that took them around Europe and Stateside, it was their heaviest schedule since the early days. The promotion of 'Feline' took up much of 1983, but seemingly the creative juices were still overflowing, leaving JJ and Dave with no other option but to dress up as women and head back into the studio to record a film soundtrack no less. Whist the film 'Ecoutez Vos Murs' may have been off the mur, the resultant album 'Fire and Water' is a joy of an album. There is not a duff track on it. Dave's playing stands out massively for me, this being an opportunity for him to play in a style that was free from the constraints imposed by that 'Stranglers sound'. Layer upon layer of sound are laid down, as befits a soundtrack I suppose. Listen to 'Liberation', Le Soir and especially 'Consequences'. Couple that with JJ's newfound discovery of actually singing and the result is a rich mixture of sounds that manage to conjour cafe bars in European boulevards (albeit via the drizzle of Thatcherite Britain as presented in 'Rain & Dole and Tea'). 'Fire and Water, also prepared the foundations for JJ's 'Un Jour Parfait' on which he was again ably assisted by Mr Greenfield.

Lalo Schifrin - Dirty Harry Anthology

In 1983, Viva Records released the soundtrack to Sudden Impact, which also contained music from two other scores written by Lalo Schifrin for Clint Eastwood's Dirty Harry series of detective thrillers, Magnum Force and The Enforcer. (There were five Dirty Harry films in all, and Schifrin wrote the music for four of them.) The Dirty Harry Anthology, issued on Schifrin's own label, presents his newly recorded versions of music from the first film, Dirty Harry (1971), as well as Magnum Force (1973), and Sudden Impact. The earlier scores contain typical elements from their time, including the plucked bass and wah wah guitar sounds typical of Shaft and other scores of the time. As action movies, of course, the soundtracks require a fair amount of music to support and complement tense action sequences, and Schifrin delivers, mixing jazz and rock elements with other styles. From the start, with Eastwood's famous "Do you feel lucky?" speech from the first movie, the series is effectively evoked, and the music holds up, maybe even better than the politically incorrect films do.

The Days Of Wine And Roses

With few exceptions, the bands that rose from L.A.'s Paisley Underground scene in the '80s had only one real thing in common; all of them were obsessed with the rock & roll touchstones of the mid- to late '60s, whether it was psychedelia (the Rain Parade), country rock (the Long Ryders), or AM pop (the Bangles). But while most of these bands looked to the sunny side of '60s rock, the Dream Syndicate were the Paisley Underground's juvenile delinquents, smart but cynical and happy to spread bad vibes for the hell of it. Nearly all of the Paisley bands were audibly Californian, but while they hailed from Davis, California, the Dream Syndicate's key influences were significantly from the East Coast: the Velvet Underground (particularly White Light/White Heat), and mid-'60s Bob Dylan (think Highway 61 Revisited). At the core of their sound was the bracing thrust and parry between Karl Precoda's lead guitar, noisy and elemental but inspired in its wanderlust, and the sharp report of Steve Wynn's rhythm guitar, yielding a tougher and more abrasive sound than their peers. Consequently, the Dream Syndicate's debut album, 1982's The Days of Wine and Roses, is arguably the finest LP to come out of the Paisley Underground's salad days, and ultimately atypical of the movement, a blast of beautiful but ominous rock & roll chaos whose speedy guitar-based attack was held in place by the intelligent minimalism of bassist Kendra Smith and drummer Dennis Duck. While the Dream Syndicate's influences were obvious (the initial vinyl pressing of The Days of Wine and Roses included the helpful run-off groove message "Pre-Motorcyle Accident"), the way they manifested themselves were not; the skronky impact of the guitars recalled the Velvets, but Precoda's billows of noise had a personality all their own, and though Wynn's vocal delivery had the bite of both vintage Dylan and Lou Reed, his lyrical voice was his own, offhand but deeply personal at the same time. And Chris D.'s no-frills production captured the Dream Syndicate gloriously, and the greatest pleasure of The Days of Wine and Roses is how well this band plays together, like a miraculously contained explosion that seemed to be going a dozen places at once but confidently and fearlessly rolls forward, and the expressive jams on "Then She Remembers," "Until Lately," and the title cut are outstanding. The Dream Syndicate would be a very different band when they cut Medicine Show two years later, but while they would remain an interesting band to the end, The Days of Wine and Roses captures them at their peak, and it's essential listening for noise guitar fiends and anyone interested in '80s alternative rock.

Spear Of Destiny - S.O.D. - The Epic Years

Until 2008 brought a series of bonus track heavy reissues of Spear's first three albums, this was the most convenient way of getting your hands on the best of the band's work, a mid-'80s release designed to capitalize on the band's Outlands success by reminding listeners of a time when the band was truly great. There's not a duff track in sight; flawlessly, The Epic Years darts through Spear's singles catalogue, highlighting songs that still sound stupendous today -- "Liberator," "The Wheel," "Come Back," "Mickey," and so on. In fact the only valid criticism is that ten songs can barely scrape the surface of the group's repertoire.

Miles Smiles

With their second album, Miles Smiles, the second Miles Davis Quintet really began to hit their stride, delving deeper into the more adventurous, exploratory side of their signature sound. This is clear as soon as "Orbits" comes crashing out the gate, but it's not just the fast, manic material that has an edge -- slower, quieter numbers are mercurial, not just in how they shift melodies and chords, but how the voicing and phrasing never settles into a comfortable groove. This is music that demands attention, never taking predictable paths or easy choices. Its greatest triumph is that it masks this adventurousness within music that is warm and accessible -- it just never acts that way. No matter how accessible this is, what's so utterly brilliant about it is that the group never brings it forth to the audience. They're playing for each other, pushing and prodding each other in an effort to discover new territory. As such, this crackles with vitality, sounding fresh decades after its release. And, like its predecessor, ESP, this freshness informs the writing as well, as the originals are memorable, yet open-ended and nervy, setting (and creating) standards for modern bop that were emulated well into the new century. Arguably, this quintet was never better than they are here, when all their strengths are in full bloom.

Josef K - Endless Soul

What the following review from Andy Kellman at Allmusic misses, is that there’s never enough Josef K available to download at any moment in time to satisfy the need, nay the urge, belay that the craving for all things K. Every compilation/re-release is eagerly consumed by the hungry, nay starving fans for the possibilities that a rare or previously un-released song is included. As an introduction to Josef K’s impressive back catalogue, this is a worthwhile download.

Released by the Marina label in 1998, Endless Soul is a serviceable overview of Josef K's brief career, taking the best songs from the band's lone album and several singles into consideration. There isn't exactly a great need for its existence, as there isn't much of a point in distilling such a limited output that can be swept up in whole through the purchase of two other excellent discs: Young and Stupid (a compilation of singles, stray tracks, and a BBC session) and The Only Fun in Town/Sorry for Laughing (which pairs the group's only official LP with its aborted sibling). If you spot a copy of Endless Soul in a used bin and want to hear what this spiky Scottish pop group was about, it's definitely a good way to spend some money. But know this: Odds are the disc found its way into the used bin because someone bought it, liked what they heard, picked up the two discs mentioned above as a result (which takes care of all the band's studio work), and sold the unnecessary disc back. The possession of the other two discs renders the possession of this particular one obsolete. Judged on its own, it gives a fair representation, but it loses big points for not including "Sorry for Laughing," one of Josef K's key moments. (Kellman is talking bollocks again, Sorry For Laughing is included)

Clan Of Xymox

Listening to Clan of Xymox's self-titled LP is like entering a club of black-clad vampires in the mid-'80s. That's not meant as an insult; the album captures a certain time and place. The record epitomizes Ben Folds Five's hilarious discovery in "Battle of Who Could Care Less": "See I've got your old ID/And you're all dressed up like the Cure." This moody, atmospheric record is as dated as a bumper sticker from a "rock of the '80s" radio station. What once seemed cutting-edge is now a nostalgia trip, and for aging goths, Clan of Xymox is home sweet home. Clan of Xymox were never original; they always seemed to be picking from the leftovers of their predecessors: the Cure, Joy Division, Modern English, Dead Can Dance, and New Order. In other words, there are icy, throbbing keyboards; bummed-out vocals; chilly, robotic percussion; gloomy, ethereal guitars; and unusual, cryptic song titles. However, even before their creative peak with 1989's stellar Twist of Shadows, the group knew how to craft some good hooks. Clan of Xymox aims for Joy Division's oppressive bleakness, but vocalist Ronny Moorings doesn't have the late Ian Curtis' intense pain or profound lyrics. The band is at their best when their pop instincts overrule their tendency to lose themselves in misery. "A Day" and "Muscoviet Mosquito" are both mysterious and catchy, propelled by infectious gothic grooves that don't slow down. "No Words" has funky riffs which reveal that Clan of Xymox listen to new romantic groups as well, and "Stumble and Fall" is beautifully lush. There's nothing brilliant or original here; however, the group's derivative sound summarizes the dance sector of post-punk accurately as they pillage from the most popular artists of the genre. An entertaining audio essay of early- to mid-'80s goth rock; from Joy Division to Dead Can Dance, Clan of Xymox never leave a page unturned.

Urban Beaches

Cactus World News wastes no time in making a first impression on its debut album Urban Beaches. The opening track "Worlds Apart" explodes from the speakers with screeching, reverberating guitars, tumbling drums, and fervent vocals. The anthemic chorus and breath-taking energy of "Worlds Apart" will remind listeners of U2's "I Will Follow" in its feel and execution. However, despite similarities to the music of fellow Irish band U2, Urban Beaches is a smart, hypnotically melodic album bristling with youthful exuberance and sparkling musicianship. The impassioned singing of Eoin McEvoy on "Worlds Apart," "In a Whirlpool," "The Promise," and "The Bridge" is contagious; after hearing him bellow "Worlds apart, worlds apart/Closer than I've ever been/To you" a few times, listeners will find themselves mouthing the words or perhaps singing it in the shower. Frank Kearns' driving, electrifying riffs magnify the urgency in McEvoy's voice; nearly every track has thrilling, dramatic guitar playing. Urban Beaches should've been a hit in the U.S.; instead, it became a buried treasure in the cut out bins.

Crashes

Although many pop fans consider the Records' debut album, Shades in Bed (aka "The Records" in the U.S.), as their best album, it is this album, their sophomore release, that is the ultimate introduction into the band's world of delicious melodies, great lyrics, and perfect harmonies. Commonly referred to as a power pop band, the Records were always so much more than a band of their time: they were a distillation of what came before, what was happening at the time, and where guitar-based bands were headed. With drummer Will Birch providing the lyrics and guitarist/vocalist John Wicks providing the music, the Records had one of the finest song-writing teams of their era, and were certainly equals to Squeeze's Chris Difford and Glenn Tilbrook (although with a much lower profile). On Crashes, Huw Gower and his over-powering guitar riffing were replaced by the less abrasive strumming of Barry Martin (uncredited) and Jude Cole, who took over a good share of the vocals alongside Wicks. Cole's vocals added a sweet depth and beauty to the songs, and both his and Wicks' vocals blended together to create a perfect Lennon/McCartneyesque harmony that carried the songs to a new level. "Hearts In Her Eyes," the track that Wicks and Birch had written for the Searchers, sounded more intimate in the Records' hands (although the band prefers the Searchers' version over their own!). "Rumour Sets the Woods Alight," which deals with the mysterious death of former Stone Brian Jones, is dark but uplifting pop at its finest. "Hearts Will Be Broken," one of the finest songs on the album, should have been as big as "Starry Eyes," but wasn't. "The Same Mistakes," "Girl in Golden Disc" and "The Worriers" shine with smart lyrics and great melodies. "Spent a Week with You Last Night" could have fit easily on the Beatles' Revolver album. In all, the original release was nearly flawless, although Craig Leon's production left the album sounding flat where the debut seemed to levitate off of the turntable. 

The Stranglers - Black And White

After two albums – the great Rattus Norvegicus and its weaker sister, No More Heroes – and some extraordinary singles, The Stranglers were one of the most successful punk-era bands, hitting the top 10 regularly and being controversial (even for 1977) with their sexist lyrics and macho attitude. In 1978 they were in danger of becoming a loutish version of The Doors, whose keyboard riffs they seemed overly fond of. But, with a verve that would mark most of the records they released, The Stranglers turned everything round on their third album, the extraordinary Black and White. With an aptly stark cover and a division into "black" and "white" sides, Black and White was immediately notable for its tougher sound and attitude, and a merciful lack of songs about how awful women were. Instead, bassist Jean-Jacques Burnel offered takes on the homoerotic machismo of Yukio Mishima (Death and Night and Blood) while lead vocalist Hugh Cornwell mused on tanks (Tank), robots (Rise of the Robots) and, er, Sweden (Sweden). Along the way, songs like Threatened, In the Shadows and Curfew layered on the menace big time, all helped by Martin Rushent’s best production for the band yet. Beefy yet minimal, it displayed clear influences on the work of Gang of Four and Joy Division. In the mix you can hear bits of electronics and keyboards (and creepy, sped-up voices) that would culminate in the full-on synthesized alien paranoia of their Meninblack era. After Black and White, The Stranglers would leave their punk and their pub-rock roots behind forever, embracing the keyboard-led pop of the 1980s with aplomb (but not before recording their iciest album, the confidently fantastic The Raven). Those looking to buy or download Black and White are advised to follow their ears to the singles and EPs surrounding the album’s release. No other band would accompany their most stringent release so far with a crushingly great version of Bacharach and David’s Walk On By and a ludicrous punk boogie called Mean to Me. Essential.

The Undisco Kidds

The phrase “better late than never” couldn’t be more apt when it comes to describing the debut album from Scottish funk-punk ensemble Boots for Dancing. Having first formed in 1979, the band built up a fervent following while supporting acts such as U2 and Talking Heads. Several singles ensued, but ultimately they decided to go their separate ways when 1982 rolled around. Now, nearly four decades later, Athens of the North Records finally released their first full length outing, The Undisco Kidds.

It opens with the fun and funky feel of “Salt in the Ocean”, which proceeds to dart through vigorous vocals and characterful guitars, drums and pianos. “The Pleasure Chant” maintains the momentum via fast-paced riffs and percussion that fly frantically forward alongside an urgent melody. It’s a pressing but pleasant piece, before the brisk beat of “(Let’s All) Hesitate” takes over and pounces into more mad music and expressive singing. “Get Up” is another quirky composition, featuring a restrained but riveting riff that’s a lot more arresting than those of its predecessors. A spirited serenade follows, adding to the airy atmosphere of the proceedings. “Style in Full Swing” succeeds it by speeding off upon some biting bass amid a laid-back but brisk harmony. It’s a warm and reserved offering that still develops determinedly. “Timeless Tonight” sounds simultaneously serious and sanguine due to industrious instrumentation that carries a light-hearted undertone. “(Somewhere) in the South Pacific” is a long and alluring anthem afterwards, made up of purposeful percussion and absorbing riffs which steal the spotlight away from the soft singing. “Just the Ticket” exhibits a cheeky tone in its wake as it skips off across brash bass and gleeful guitars, while a resonant refrain echoes in the background. “Wild Jazz Summers” follows as a more forceful affair that enthrals on the way to the enthusiastic instrumentation of “Shadows on Stone”. A heartfelt harmony joins in to add an adamant attitude, ahead of the upbeat bass that begins “Oh’ Bop Sh Bam”. This is a song that doesn’t take itself too seriously as it sails toward the lazy music and melody of “Money (Is this on the Ground)”. “Stand” is speedy and stirring next, charging thrillingly to “Bend an Elbow, Lend an Ear”, which serves as a festive finish.

Boots for Dancing have crafted a curious combination of punk and funk that keeps fairly compelling throughout. There’s a sense that it would have gone down well had it been released when it was recorded back in the early eighties, which in one respect is a shame when you consider what could have been. At the same time though, it’s good to see such a unique assortment of anthems finally getting their moment to make an impact.

Dave Simpson

The Lucy Show - ...Undone

It's Star Wars day today, so to celebrate here is something totally unrelated to Star Wars...

This is like the 1979-1981 heyday years of English post-punk pop brought back and updated. Undone glistens and shimmers like a pool rippling with subconscious sensations. The two main songwriters/singers, Mark Bandola and Rob Vandeven, are apparently from Canada, but moved to London to take part in the scene that gave us a more ethereal wash of sound than anything Western Canada would know anything about. Their relocation has worked like gangbusters. "Ephemeral (This Is No Heaven)," the title track, "The White Space," and others hold a music fan spellbound in their textural beauty, the latest to take advantage of the endless brooding, moody undercurrents the best Brit-rock has been full of since Magazine, Joy Division, the early Siouxsie & the Banshees, Sad Lovers and Giants, and many others. And the songwriting is top-notch, too; you get the feeling these people know their classic ‘60s rock and pop too, and sneak in some of that great melodic sweetness to go with the shimmer and shake. Take this, the Sound's Shock of Daylight and Heads and Hearts, and the Chameleons' What Does Anything Mean? Basically, and 1985 has provided for you every quiet and inner sensation that you ever felt. Masterpieces all, but again, this is the most important of the four, since it’s the only one that’s a first album. Remarkable. Also remarkable: unlike the above, somehow the band got a U.S. deal with major distribution.

Fiction

When I scheduled Land by t’Angels I suddenly realised that I had missed out Fiction which was an error most heinous and needed to be put right.

Fiction's lightness in relation to Sleep No More does not come as much of a surprise. Perhaps only a song-by-song cover of Nico's Marble Index would've topped Sleep No More in terms of bleakness, so it didn't really require a conscious effort on the part of the Comsat Angels to use some brighter tones and leave a little room to breathe on their third album. In fact, Fiction begins with a song that's as much an affirmation in "After the Rain," a fragile, resilient opener that applies the band's long-established sense of economy with the kind of sprightful mallet work that could've been learned from Japan's Tin Drum. (Another aspect that indicates the band might've been listening to Tin Drum is evident in the rubbery, slithering quality in some of Kevin Bacon's basslines.) The abstract propellant bounce in "Not a Word," "Zinger," "Birdman," and the especially stripped-down "More" -- which is powered almost entirely by Mik Glaisher's short-step marching beat -- recalls the poppier moments of Waiting for a Miracle without retracing them. "Now I Know," "Pictures," and "What Else?!" are bracing extensions of the irreparable-relationship songs on Waiting for a Miracle and Sleep No More, using slightly different shadings and containing line after line of Stephen Fellows' quote-worthy lyrics. On "Pictures," "I was tired of explaining why you were still around" is expressed with exhausted frustration instead of malicious hostility, while on "What Else!?," he's undoubtedly bewildered: "I know you have some ambitious plans/The big bad world did not agree/You feel caught in your circumstances/Don't take it out on me." So, although there are some reprieves from the suffocating possibilities of the band's prior releases, Fiction does not amount to a significant departure. It doesn't approach the greatness of the T’Angels first two albums, but it certainly deserves to be filed alongside them. This closes out a trilogy spread across three years that either matches or exceeds similar runs by any of the band's contemporaries.

Into Paradise – Blue Light / Change

I’m just going to throw these two 12” singles to the wolves tonight. Everything that can be said about Into Paradise has been, they formed in 1986 in Churchtown, Dublin, they have sensible influences in Joy Division / The Sound, they sizzled live and they rocked (in a shoegaze / post-punk kinda way). What you have here are the first two singles / EP’s released on the indie label Setanta in 1989 and 1990 respectively.  The songs of lost love contained within are beautiful and yet full of anguish and desperation. Pretty? No they’re not. Easy listening? No, they’re really not. Essential? Yeah of course they are that’s why you’re going to download them.

Upstairs At Eric’s Re-upped

Vince Clarke can claim involvement in two stunning debuts in only two years: Depeche Mode's Speak and Spell and Yazoo's Upstairs at Eric's. While Speak and Spell is, by far, the more consistent record, Upstairs at Eric's is wholly more satisfying, beating the Depeche record on substance and ambition, and is light years ahead in emotion. "Don't Go" and "Situation" are absolutely killer with Clarke's bubbling synth and singer Alison Moyet's bluesy and powerful delivery. They're both rightful dance floor staples, and have since undergone numerous remixes, both official and bootleg. "Bring Your Love Down (Didn't I)" is just as good a thumper, adding a wonderful mumbled bridge that shows how much Clarke enjoyed messing with pop music. The softer "Only You" would have sounded silly and robotic if it had appeared on Speak and Spell, but Moyet's vocals makes it bittersweet and engaging. The clumsier experimental tracks make most people head for the hits collection, but to do so would be to miss the album's great twist. The loony tape loop of "I Before E Except After C," the skeletal "Winter Kills," and a disruptive phone call in the middle of the naïve "Bad Connection" offer up more complex and intimate moments. Like its curious cover, Upstairs at Eric's presents a fractured, well-lit, and paranoid urban landscape.

The Armoury Show

The Armoury Show remained largely unheard in their heyday in the mid-1980s, despite featuring several eminent new wave musicians. At the start of that decade, the Dunfermline-born punk band the Skids were coming to natural end, and, after guitarist Stuart Adamson left to form Big Country, singer Richard Jobson and bassist Russell Webb also eventually went in a new direction. Around this time the Manchester-based group Magazine, which had included drummer John Doyle and guitarist John McGeoch, were also dissolving. The latter had also had a stint playing with Siouxsie and the Banshees, and even replaced Adamson briefly in the Skids for a ‘Peel Session’ shortly before they split up in 1981. Richard Jobson, Russell Webb, John McGeogh and John Doyle formed the Armoury Show together later in 1981, taking their name from a famous 1913 modern art exhibition in New York. Unfortunately they only had a brief existence, but they left us with one outstanding album and a brace of 12” singles. There was a real array of talent here and it has that distinctive 80's sound to it. It is packed with various other influences from around that era, but has also a brave unique sound slightly ahead of that time. There are echoes ironically of Adamson's Big Country, but the Armoury Show, while mixing together various other 80’s influences, also had their own sound. If you have just discovered the Armoury Show through the re-release of Waiting For The Floods, you will not be disappointed with these 12” singles as they are the sound of new wave of the 80s with its many characteristics all rolled into one. Marvellous!