— Andy Kershaw
The class of '85 is so far a trip through the British indie scene (although that will soon change). If The Associates weren't quite the same as the others, they were at least adjacent to what was going on in the periphery and their journey down the dumper in the aftermath of Alan Rankine's departure ensured they were down to a loyal but diminished following of people with possible interests in The Cure, The Smiths, Bauhaus, Depeche Mode and Siousxie & The Banshees — Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet fans probably weren't listening anymore. Frank Chickens were as much performance artists as musicians and they, too, had a small following that was never going to grow enough to get them near the charts. Julian Cope had, like The Associates, enjoyed hit singles but his muse had become far too out there for him to get anything more than the odd token top forty appearance.
With all due respect to these three acts, none were of much importance to UK indie. (I type this feeling like if I had any readers they'd complain that I'm ignoring Cope's influence but (a) I'm not overly convinced he had much of an effect and (b) he was way too much of a one-off to be taken as a capable alternative figure; his erratic talent could have meant millions of fans or a smattering of loyalists in Monmouthshire but either scenario doesn't make him any more indie than pop - in the end he's just Julian Cope, an alternative to absolutely everyone else) Few major figures materialise; just as it's rare to come across a pop act that bursts forth to sustained success and a positive effect on other groups, indie acts that really matter are difficult to come by.
The Jesus & Mary Chain don't seem quite as radical as they must have been back in the mid-eighties — and much of that is down to their massive influence over British and American indie. While hard rock, metal and punk had all been accompanied by vocalists screaming, shouting and sneering, few had ever heard (or not heard as the case may be) someone like Jim Reid casually mumbling and whispering his way through a track such as "Never Understand", as if demanding that his audience really listen to him through noise. Fans unwilling or unable to do so were still able to enjoy William Reid's crunching, slithering guitar parts thereby bringing together indie types with interests in angsty lyrics and chaotic feedback into following one act.
For all of that, a figure as musically knowledgeable as Andy Kershaw (of The Old Grey Whistle Test) is able to see through the racket and detect a "breezy melody curiously reminiscent of The Beach Boys". Those of us who are as well versed in Pet Sounds as they are in Psychocandy (if not more so) can see this too but I imagine the average Chainer wouldn't have be aware of it had William Reid dressed up like Mike Love and Bobby Gillespie gone a little less down the dirt bag path to model himself after Dennis Wilson. But the influence doesn't stop "Never Understand" from being as unique as virtually everything else on offer is typical.
But from the vantage point of nearly thirty-five years, it's a record that sounds like much of what would come later. Only much better. Not everyone can whisper over screaming guitar feedback and make it work no matter how hard they might have tried.
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
"Starvation" / "Tam tam pour l'Ethiopie"
A self-titled split single released as a reggae/African music answer to "Do They Know It's Christmas?", "Starvation" / "Tam tam pour l'Ethiopie" are good enough songs not to even require a good cause which makes its low chart placing even more shameful. The UB40/Madness led "Starvation" is the more commercial with a great singalong chorus but "Tam tam pour l'Ethiopie" gets better with repeated hearings. The white guilt of Band Aid has never bothered me as much as many but something done from the perspective of the millions of poor victims of the Ethiopian famine is much more potent than cries of "thank god it's them instead of you". Just give it a try.
The class of '85 is so far a trip through the British indie scene (although that will soon change). If The Associates weren't quite the same as the others, they were at least adjacent to what was going on in the periphery and their journey down the dumper in the aftermath of Alan Rankine's departure ensured they were down to a loyal but diminished following of people with possible interests in The Cure, The Smiths, Bauhaus, Depeche Mode and Siousxie & The Banshees — Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet fans probably weren't listening anymore. Frank Chickens were as much performance artists as musicians and they, too, had a small following that was never going to grow enough to get them near the charts. Julian Cope had, like The Associates, enjoyed hit singles but his muse had become far too out there for him to get anything more than the odd token top forty appearance.
With all due respect to these three acts, none were of much importance to UK indie. (I type this feeling like if I had any readers they'd complain that I'm ignoring Cope's influence but (a) I'm not overly convinced he had much of an effect and (b) he was way too much of a one-off to be taken as a capable alternative figure; his erratic talent could have meant millions of fans or a smattering of loyalists in Monmouthshire but either scenario doesn't make him any more indie than pop - in the end he's just Julian Cope, an alternative to absolutely everyone else) Few major figures materialise; just as it's rare to come across a pop act that bursts forth to sustained success and a positive effect on other groups, indie acts that really matter are difficult to come by.
The Jesus & Mary Chain don't seem quite as radical as they must have been back in the mid-eighties — and much of that is down to their massive influence over British and American indie. While hard rock, metal and punk had all been accompanied by vocalists screaming, shouting and sneering, few had ever heard (or not heard as the case may be) someone like Jim Reid casually mumbling and whispering his way through a track such as "Never Understand", as if demanding that his audience really listen to him through noise. Fans unwilling or unable to do so were still able to enjoy William Reid's crunching, slithering guitar parts thereby bringing together indie types with interests in angsty lyrics and chaotic feedback into following one act.
For all of that, a figure as musically knowledgeable as Andy Kershaw (of The Old Grey Whistle Test) is able to see through the racket and detect a "breezy melody curiously reminiscent of The Beach Boys". Those of us who are as well versed in Pet Sounds as they are in Psychocandy (if not more so) can see this too but I imagine the average Chainer wouldn't have be aware of it had William Reid dressed up like Mike Love and Bobby Gillespie gone a little less down the dirt bag path to model himself after Dennis Wilson. But the influence doesn't stop "Never Understand" from being as unique as virtually everything else on offer is typical.
But from the vantage point of nearly thirty-five years, it's a record that sounds like much of what would come later. Only much better. Not everyone can whisper over screaming guitar feedback and make it work no matter how hard they might have tried.
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
"Starvation" / "Tam tam pour l'Ethiopie"
A self-titled split single released as a reggae/African music answer to "Do They Know It's Christmas?", "Starvation" / "Tam tam pour l'Ethiopie" are good enough songs not to even require a good cause which makes its low chart placing even more shameful. The UB40/Madness led "Starvation" is the more commercial with a great singalong chorus but "Tam tam pour l'Ethiopie" gets better with repeated hearings. The white guilt of Band Aid has never bothered me as much as many but something done from the perspective of the millions of poor victims of the Ethiopian famine is much more potent than cries of "thank god it's them instead of you". Just give it a try.
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