— Mark Steels
Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose double-glazing. Choose a hi-fi. Choose vitamins. Choose Breakfast Television. Choose to purchase your council flat. Choose seatbelts. Choose a sit-down Wimpy. Choose a holiday in Tenerife. Choose nuclear disarmament. Choose to believe Hugh Trevor-Roper. Choose lucozade. Choose peace in Northern Ireland. Choose Steve Cram. Choose getting a video for the kids.
(This is a clear example of padding out an essay that I was obviously at a loss with. "Oh look," observant readers no doubt exclaimed, "Paul's nicking from Trainspotting with references to the eighties!" Double-glazing! Sit-down Wimpy! Lucozade! It's as if I raided an old copy of The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole for as many references as I could manage. But if this is what you think what happened then I'm afraid you'd be wrong: I have memorized three of the first four Mole books so I didn't have to research at all!)
A couple weeks' back in the so-called "cop" piece that closes out these entries, I discussed "The Stand" by The Alarm, who I argued were at the forefront of Welsh pop due to there being absolutely no one else. Not true at all. There was Alison Statton, formerly of Young Marble Giants but this time vocalist for post-punk smooth jazzers Weekend, who enjoyed a SOTF a year earlier with "Past Meets Present". One of Britain's biggest acts of the time, Shakin' Stevens, also happened to be Welsh. But it wasn't a region overflowing with musical talent and the very fact that I keep thinking about late-eighties sophisti-pop one-hit wonders Waterfront says it all.
A couple weeks' back in the so-called "cop" piece that closes out these entries, I discussed "The Stand" by The Alarm, who I argued were at the forefront of Welsh pop due to there being absolutely no one else. Not true at all. There was Alison Statton, formerly of Young Marble Giants but this time vocalist for post-punk smooth jazzers Weekend, who enjoyed a SOTF a year earlier with "Past Meets Present". One of Britain's biggest acts of the time, Shakin' Stevens, also happened to be Welsh. But it wasn't a region overflowing with musical talent and the very fact that I keep thinking about late-eighties sophisti-pop one-hit wonders Waterfront says it all.
(The "cop" piece is now known as Also Reviewed This Fortnight. I neglected to acknowledge that Welsh pop did enjoy a renaissance in the nineties after that brief, regrettable period in which Waterfront somehow ended up being the Principality's chief musical ambassadors. That said, I'd probably take eighties' Cymru pop over it: a little Manics goes a long way in my book, I could never get past Cerys Matthews' wretched voice when dealing with Catatonia, I must be dead inside since I've never warmed to Super Furry Animals and I absolutely adore these three bands compared to Stereophonics. Gorky's Zygotic Mynci may well redeem such a mediocre scene but I really wouldn't know. Why haven't I given them a listen?)
Emerging out of Cardiff in 1983 was synth-pop gloomsters Freur. In fact, they were never called Freur, that was simply how one pronounced their name. They used a symbol and only came up with 'Freur' as a compromise with their record label. A good ten years before Prince cooked up his in-no-way pretentious "name" (with the much lengthier pronunciation of "the Artist Formerly Known as Prince"), this Welsh quartet must have really thought they were on to something with their, in the words of Kimberley Leston, "squiggle resembling a poorly tapeworm". The squiggle got them to number 59 in the charts with their first single "Doot-Doot' (either that or their eccentric name prevented them from getting any higher) and this was its follow-up. Not a great song but a marked improvement over its insubstantial predecessor. Trying for that glacial snyth sound that worked so well on Ultravox's "Vienna" and OMD's "Souvenir", it works out for them musically with a beautifully ghostly sound but it's a lyrical mess. It has lines that seem be meant to be profound but, upon closer study and thought, are mostly just nonsense. "Clowns in the street / The city is asleep / And no one hears a beat"? Hmmm, I'd be interested in investigating quite what they're getting at if I wasn't convinced they were churning out whatever sounds good. If the song's thesis is 'matters of the heart are complicated, you know' then I can't disagree but if leaves me wondering why I should care.
Emerging out of Cardiff in 1983 was synth-pop gloomsters Freur. In fact, they were never called Freur, that was simply how one pronounced their name. They used a symbol and only came up with 'Freur' as a compromise with their record label. A good ten years before Prince cooked up his in-no-way pretentious "name" (with the much lengthier pronunciation of "the Artist Formerly Known as Prince"), this Welsh quartet must have really thought they were on to something with their, in the words of Kimberley Leston, "squiggle resembling a poorly tapeworm". The squiggle got them to number 59 in the charts with their first single "Doot-Doot' (either that or their eccentric name prevented them from getting any higher) and this was its follow-up. Not a great song but a marked improvement over its insubstantial predecessor. Trying for that glacial snyth sound that worked so well on Ultravox's "Vienna" and OMD's "Souvenir", it works out for them musically with a beautifully ghostly sound but it's a lyrical mess. It has lines that seem be meant to be profound but, upon closer study and thought, are mostly just nonsense. "Clowns in the street / The city is asleep / And no one hears a beat"? Hmmm, I'd be interested in investigating quite what they're getting at if I wasn't convinced they were churning out whatever sounds good. If the song's thesis is 'matters of the heart are complicated, you know' then I can't disagree but if leaves me wondering why I should care.
(Yeah, I stand by the above. Songs like "Matters of the Heart" work well when you're not paying attention but come undone if even the slightest bit of thought is put into them. But the melody is nice which I brushed over (checks notes) just over five years ago)
It is perhaps with this musical proficiency/lyrical ineptness in mind that Freur would gradually shift towards techno ambiance. Not strictly instrumental nor with a particular emphasis on samples and/or guest vocalists from the pop/rock "scene" but with certainly less importance placed on vocals. It's not an especially big leap to make going from synth-pop to electronica but it was something very few were able to pull off (indeed, it was a shift not many seemed interested in attempting). Dave Nonis, Mark Almond's mustachioed cohort in Soft Cell, would eventually re-emerge in nineties techno boffins with banjos The Grid but, by and large, your Vince Clarke's and Chris Lowe's who headed up the technical side of their acts avoided going full-on big beat. Freur embraced changes in the musical landscape and ended up as Underworld.
It is perhaps with this musical proficiency/lyrical ineptness in mind that Freur would gradually shift towards techno ambiance. Not strictly instrumental nor with a particular emphasis on samples and/or guest vocalists from the pop/rock "scene" but with certainly less importance placed on vocals. It's not an especially big leap to make going from synth-pop to electronica but it was something very few were able to pull off (indeed, it was a shift not many seemed interested in attempting). Dave Nonis, Mark Almond's mustachioed cohort in Soft Cell, would eventually re-emerge in nineties techno boffins with banjos The Grid but, by and large, your Vince Clarke's and Chris Lowe's who headed up the technical side of their acts avoided going full-on big beat. Freur embraced changes in the musical landscape and ended up as Underworld.
(Clearly lacking anything else to say, I wrap things up with a look at how some synth boffins chose to move towards house and dance music and away from pure pop. I clearly wasn't aware of Colourbox's similar shift when they evolved into into M|A|R|R|S in 1987 or thereabouts. I even sometimes wonder if members of JoBoxers ended up forming the basis of The Orb or if members of It's Immaterial eventually formed N-Trance but, sadly, neither of these things happened. I imagine I'll discover another seemingly random transformation but it will be from a pair of acts I would never have thought of. And that's the beauty of this "trend")
Choose life. Choose success. Choose film soundtracks. Choose rave. Choose hardwood flooring. Choose Michael Eavis. Choose credibility. Choose the Full Moon Party on Ko Pha-ngna. Choose New Labour. Choose lad mags. Choose ecstasy. Choose authenticity.
Choose life. Choose success. Choose film soundtracks. Choose rave. Choose hardwood flooring. Choose Michael Eavis. Choose credibility. Choose the Full Moon Party on Ko Pha-ngna. Choose New Labour. Choose lad mags. Choose ecstasy. Choose authenticity.
(I have to say these passages that nick from Ewan McGregor's Renton from Trainspotting are really what save this review from utter worthlessness. Yeah, it's pads out an admittedly empty and analysis-free review but it serves a purpose. The nineties weren't all that great for many of the above reasons. The Adrian Mole books even started to suck during this time. Except for The Wilderness Years because all we ever wanted to see was out Aidy become happy. There's hope for all, you see)
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
Durutti Column: "I Get Along Very Well Without You"
"Snap", to quote Steels in full. Oh the grief he must be assaulted with every time this "review" gets shared on social media. This hippest of bands with no songs anyone can name and a roster of anonymous members sure has a loyal following of people I don't know. Mojo even did a 'How to Buy' feature on them. A pity, then, that they just weren't all that good. I don't know of a single Durutti Column record that doesn't sound better in my imagination than what they actually recorded. I dig plenty of hipster pop but only on the condition that I would wish to listen to it. A big ask, I know. I suppose I will have to prepare for an eventual "assault" if and when this piece gets passed around on social media. I'll be ready.
(Oh what a sad little paragraph. I shouldn't try to take anything away from Ivor Vini Reilly. He's a deeply talented figure in his own right. I've just never been fussed by anything he's ever done — and that's more on me than him. And let's not take anything away from his nibs either: as Brian Eno said, only 10,000 people bought the first Durutti Column album but everyone who did went on to form bands who sold 1,000 copies of their debut release. Nothing to sneeze at, readers)
(Click here to see my original review)
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