"John Peel...has nominated this as his record-of-'81; I'll settle for it being...not normally the kind of thing I would listen to...the most compelling, uncompromised...immaculate sequencer grooves...the singer rants with frightening intensity...and sax overdubs."
— Charlie Gillett
A mischievous start to this one on my part. This is our first look at a co-SOTF and, as a warped tribute to this landmark, I've decided to mash up Charlie Gillett's pair of glowing reviews into the above "quotation". I have, therefore, taken his analysis completely out of context. Anyone who wishes to see what he actually wrote is invited to do so by clicking on the link up top.
I suppose this week's entry is about understanding a reviewer's perspective rather than agreeing with it. Neither of Gillett's picks do much for me personally but I can see picking them, particularly in light of most of their competition. "Release the Bats" is indeed intense, yes, frighteningly intense even, an early example of goth rock's chilling power — though sadly free of the sympathetic touch that Nick Cave would later develop. "State of Independence" is a last-gasp for prog rock, a super-duo laying down some wonderful ideas that don't quite work out in the finished product. One YouTube comment describes it as reggae from outer space, an opinion I can't disagree with even if the sentiment fails to lift me from my apathy. Nevertheless, the two records do stand out: Singles of the Fortnight that I don't especially like but kind of get.
More interesting than the bulk of this fortnight's singles is Gillett's approach to presenting his reviews, which, again, I can understand if not necessarily desire to emulate. He has the records classified into three categories: Best of the Bunch; People You've Heard Before (and Will Hear Again) and, finally, People You Haven't Heard (but Will One Day). I can certainly see the appeal of this while immediately detecting its flaws. Leaving aside the first one, the second presents us with those who've experienced some chart success and/or critical acclaim. Given that he assumes readers are already aware of these figures it's strange, then, for him to begin one entry by asking "Have you heard of Ry Cooder?" Granted, this is a query that is well worth asking, even today. In addition, The Look (who?) seem to be a conspicuous pick here. They were soon to fall out of chart favour and into ver dumper.
Then we come to the third category. It's nice of Gillett to assume this eager eight all had bright futures ahead of them and obviously he wasn't to know that they were all destined for obscurity. Two of this bunch — The Bore-Town Bop and The Lucky Saddles — appear with the only singles they ever released. It's neigh on impossible to watch out for groups who disappear so rapidly.
Still, I like having the singles classified this way. If anything, perhaps Gillett just didn't have enough categories to lean on. I've come up with a few of my own with some very brief reviews to accompany them.
People Who Think They're Still Relevant (but Have Actually Gone Down the Dumper)
Kim Carnes: "Draw of the Cards"
I suppose this week's entry is about understanding a reviewer's perspective rather than agreeing with it. Neither of Gillett's picks do much for me personally but I can see picking them, particularly in light of most of their competition. "Release the Bats" is indeed intense, yes, frighteningly intense even, an early example of goth rock's chilling power — though sadly free of the sympathetic touch that Nick Cave would later develop. "State of Independence" is a last-gasp for prog rock, a super-duo laying down some wonderful ideas that don't quite work out in the finished product. One YouTube comment describes it as reggae from outer space, an opinion I can't disagree with even if the sentiment fails to lift me from my apathy. Nevertheless, the two records do stand out: Singles of the Fortnight that I don't especially like but kind of get.
More interesting than the bulk of this fortnight's singles is Gillett's approach to presenting his reviews, which, again, I can understand if not necessarily desire to emulate. He has the records classified into three categories: Best of the Bunch; People You've Heard Before (and Will Hear Again) and, finally, People You Haven't Heard (but Will One Day). I can certainly see the appeal of this while immediately detecting its flaws. Leaving aside the first one, the second presents us with those who've experienced some chart success and/or critical acclaim. Given that he assumes readers are already aware of these figures it's strange, then, for him to begin one entry by asking "Have you heard of Ry Cooder?" Granted, this is a query that is well worth asking, even today. In addition, The Look (who?) seem to be a conspicuous pick here. They were soon to fall out of chart favour and into ver dumper.
Then we come to the third category. It's nice of Gillett to assume this eager eight all had bright futures ahead of them and obviously he wasn't to know that they were all destined for obscurity. Two of this bunch — The Bore-Town Bop and The Lucky Saddles — appear with the only singles they ever released. It's neigh on impossible to watch out for groups who disappear so rapidly.
Still, I like having the singles classified this way. If anything, perhaps Gillett just didn't have enough categories to lean on. I've come up with a few of my own with some very brief reviews to accompany them.
People Who Think They're Still Relevant (but Have Actually Gone Down the Dumper)
Kim Carnes: "Draw of the Cards"
A retread of her one hit and not nearly as good. The vocal smokiness is beginning to pale.
People You've Heard Before (and Never Want to Hear Again)
The Moody Blues: "The Voice"
People You've Heard Before (and Never Want to Hear Again)
The Moody Blues: "The Voice"
At least Jon and Vangelis are trying, The Bloody Muds are just rehashing the same old stuff that was never especially great to begin with.
People You Keep Hearing About (but Never Get Round to Listening To)
People You Keep Hearing About (but Never Get Round to Listening To)
Ry Cooder: "Crazy 'Bout an Automobile" / "The Very Thing That Makes You Rich"
Do I know Ry Cooder, Chuck? I know of him. It's been on my list for the last twenty years but I promise to check out the Paris, Texas soundtrack anytime now.
People Who Will Have a Hit (Even If They Don't Deserve To)
Cliff Richard: "Wired for Sound"
People Who Will Have a Hit (Even If They Don't Deserve To)
Cliff Richard: "Wired for Sound"
In no way whatsoever does a song called "Wired for Sound" have any business being done by His Cliffness. Gillett claims that it "doesn't deserve the feeling that Cliff manages to bring to it". Either that or perhaps our Cliff puts too much feeling into material that needs someone who understands irony.
Or I should just stick to a category I know. Namely...
Or I should just stick to a category I know. Namely...
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
Ludus: "Mother's Hour"
Towards the end of his life John Lennon began taking note of the influence of his wife Yoko Ono on up and coming new wave acts, citing in particular The B52's and their cult hit "Rock Lobster". (Fun fact: a Canadian number one!) He could just as easily have been talking about Ludus (you know, assuming he ever had the chance to hear them). Vocalist Linder sasses it up in the verses while getting her inner Ono on in the chorus. Reflecting this polarisation is her band who play some supple free jazz mixed with the sneering ferocity of punk. If a biographer/liner note writer ever needs to fill space with a quote they could do worse than this: "Ludus are the missing link between Yoko Ono and Morrissey". They may even take me way out of context for all I care.
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