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Showing posts with label FAC 62. Show all posts
Showing posts with label FAC 62. Show all posts

Tuesday 25 April 2023

ACR:NCH

A Certain Ratio played Manchester's New Century Hall on Saturday night, a homecoming gig three nights into a UK tour and an evening with lots of familiar faces in the crowd, a real gathering of the fans in a room that holds 1300 people. Not too long ago they were playing much smaller venues in the city and to smaller crowds- the deal with Mute, subsequent re- issueing of their back catalogue and the run of album and EP releases over the last few years has brought a real ACR renaissance. They are very much a band who don't want to repeat themselves, don't want to just play the old songs and who want to continue to move forward and break new ground. 

ACR take the stage at nine and play a seventeen song spanning over four decades, kicking off with Winter Hill, from 1981, a tense, urgent instrumental built around a clattering rhythm and a load of oscillating drones. It's followed by the title track from their recent album 1982, a piece of retro- futuristic dark funk, Jez singing of the year in question, on record all synths and robotic backing vocals, live on stage all dark disco- funk. Martin Moscrop and Don Johnson swap instruments throughout the night, between drums and guitar.


New singer Ellen Beth Abdi, stepping into a gap left by the huge presence of the late Denise Johnson, bounds on stage for the third song, Get A Grip (from 2020's Loco). What she lacks in years she more than makes up for in voice and energy, her vocals on both the new songs and old ones absolutely spot on. After a wild romp through Emperor Machine they hit the back catalogue with Lucinda from Sextet, a record from the early 80s, discordant otherworldly dance/ post- punk and follow this with one of the night's highlights, an immense and tense version of Flight, the 1980 single that laid so many of the foundations of their sound, Martin Hannett's dark and dense 1980 production filled out by this new six piece ACR. Current single Samo returns us to the present via the past, a Eno- Byrne indebted drum intro and Jez's spoken vocals building up to a joyous disco/ punk- funk/ rap tribute to Jean- Michel Basquiat's art and the New York crossover scenes of the early 80s. Do The Du is dropped in, early ACR's thrilling, stepped mechanical funk, a song which has been with me since first hearing it in 1987, when it was on a compilation tape my friend Darren made for me (who is here tonight, standing next to me, decades later). 

Jez Kerr had a bad year last year, a bout of serious illness and time out of the band- 'I was on sabbatical' he quips at one point. To help with this ACR have recruited a new bass player, the youthful Viv Griffin more than filling in for Jez so he can concentrate on singing, cowbell and whistles with the odd bit of bass. On one song, there are three members of ACR playing bass- Jez, Viv and Martin Moscrop. 'That's the problem with this band', Jez says, 'too many bass players'. 

Berlin from Loco is another highlight, pulsing bass, keyboards and soaring twin vocals from Jez and Ellen, with it's memorable chorus line 'You never, ever leave/ Your head alone'. Then they give us Mickey Way from 1986's Force, jazz- funk from the middle of the 80s sounding very much reborn with ascending trumpet and flute lines. The home straight brings the crowd pleasers- there are few ACR songs I'd want to hear more live than the next ones. First, the 1989 dance pop of The Big E (with the house piano chords pointing to Bernard Sumner's much loved remix, Won't Stop Loving You, a song dedicated to Denise- earlier Jez dedicated a song to Mark Stewart who died the day before, whose group The Pop Group were an enormous influence of early ACR). Then Good Together, one of my favourite ACR songs, with an acid house 303 squiggle, some borrowed Beach Boys lyrics and full on Hacienda rhythms, again sounding not retro but modernised. The final song is Shack Up, the scratchy, punk- funk cover that has been played in ACR sets since 1980. Declining to go off stage and back for the encore, they stay where they are- 'it's too far', Jez tells us- Knife Slits Water's weird, danceable, skeletal funk, pumped up sound and funked up basslines filling the hall, a song with post- punk's ominous instruction to dance despite it all, now sounding celebratory rather than full of early 80s dread. 

Knife Slits Water (12" Version)

The usual ACR set closer is Si Fermir O Grido, the samba grooves from Force where everyone on stage grabs a cowbell, shaker, whistle and drums, a Latin Manchester, and they don't let us down tonight. Martin and Don swap places at the drum stool mid song, Don slapping the bass, everyone else powering their way to the finale. This photo, one of three taken by Jez as the finish has me in far left of the shot, hands above my head applauding. 

Afterwards the band play a DJ set in the bar below New Century Hall where I bump into friends from Newcastle, previously only known via social media. We eventually leave via the foyer with a rather nice poster and a t- shirt, and after a while the realisation we have yet again managed to miss the last tram home, all the while Do The Du's stuttering funk rhythms playing in my head. 

Thursday 11 July 2019

Bring It Home To Me




On a Factory tip recently I dug out my double disc re-issue of A Certain Ratio's Sextet, their second album, released in 1982 and their first without Hannett at the controls. Hannett was dumped as producer by New Order, Durutti Column and then ACR too which can't have done much for his state of mind. Sextet- so called because they'd recently become a six piece band- is full of good songs, heavy noir vibes and that Mancunian funk. The song that leapt out me was Knife Slits Water, a single from the same year and on CD 2 it's long B-side Kether Hot Knives. I'll save the B-side for another time.

Knife Slits Water takes the group's dark funk, particularly foregrounding Donald Johnson's drumming, a large dollop of echo on the kick drum creating a very futuristic dance sound, some busy bass and the distant but tough vocals of Martha Tilson, lyrics she wrote about sex and sexual politics. Tony Wilson's vision of ACR as white boys playing funk, clad in ex-army khaki with short back and sides and whistles, is perfectly realised here. In 1981 the group had done a Peel Session- Skipscada, Day One and Knife Slits Water- and that's the version I'm posting here. They were years ahead in '81 and still sound like that now.

Knife Slits Water (Peel Session)

The other Factory album that I was rediscovering was Section 25's From The Hip album, a Bernard Sumner produced 1984 lost classic and it's single Looking From A Hilltop, one of the greatest of all Factory's releases. But again, let's leave that for another day. The pictures above were taken in Section 25's hometown Blackpool on Sunday afternoon, the modernist arches of the amusements centre in brilliant Fylde coast sunshine.