PiL: "Home"

9 April 1986

"Never a dull moment, you'll love it or you'll hate it, but it's pretty hard to ignore."

— Sorrel Downer

And John Lydon is impossible to ignore. His presence, his sneer, his hair, his quest to make sure we never forget those times he's been proven correct (or was it just the once with Jimmy Saville?): everything about him makes you take notice and (much as you might want to) you can't quite look a way. He also doesn't care what you think — which is why he's always been such a good sport with his critics.

He's the least interesting thing about "Home" however. I've previously noted that this was the peak of Lydon's American sound in which he brought together hip hop and reggae influences and began employing some first rate US musicians from rock and jazz to back him and his "band" Public Image Ltd. The man took a beating for this (as well as his recent move to LA) but, as usual, he came out swinging at his critics. "Nobody has any right to accuse or to say ANYTHING to me," he tells Tom Hibbert in a recent issue of Smash Hits. More than a little defensive but he was correct on his main point: he had the right people play on his bloody album.

It's a pretty impressive lineup on Album, the deliberately generically-titled fifth PiL full-length release (with Cassette, Compact Disc and Video as format companions and even a sweet selection of badges, key rings and mugs to further hammer the point home — even if the point was never made clear but, whatever, it looked cool). Tony Williams, late of Miles Davis' extraordinary Second Great Quintet, The Tony Williams Lifetime and dozens of outstanding Blue Note sessions, is present just as he had been on previous single "Rise". He's not exactly showing off his considerable talents like on "Hand Jive" or "Emergency" but his playing is still powerful with excellent timing. Funk player Bernie Worrell guests on organ and, again, his playing is strong but not remarkable. More than good enough for the song we're dealing with here but he's done more elsewhere.

The star of "Home" is Steve Vai, ace guitarist for Frank Zappa and a steady hand for anyone needing a bit of heavy metal fret work. This is where Sorrel Downer expresses her astonishment at the "haywire" guitar playing and it's the only time when the record feels like it might break free and become the maniacal statement that it really ought to be. Rhythm guitarist Nicky Skopelitis dials back on aping The Edge's shimmering shards in "Rise" to doing some crunchy rock chords that gets the listener to expect something a bit tougher but Vai's spot is still pretty surprising. But is it because no one expects a bit of metal on an old punk's latest record or is it something else? (Hint: it's something else)

"Now!" Lydon roars as Vai's solo fades. Is it a roar or a shriek? A screech? A wail? Not sure really. Whatever it is, it doesn't seem like much up against some mad guitar bit. He's gotten himself into a situation that demands vocal power and he doesn't have it. Lydon's never been much of a vocalist but one would assume he's able to hold his own when it comes to spitting out some anger. It doesn't help that he's reciting some useless lyrics filled with cliches ("every dog has its day", "home sweet home") and some over-obvious rhymes which bring to mind Eminem's horrible "Without Me". And like Slim Shady's first real misstep, Lydon seems to be wallowing in self-parody. The threat of nuclear war was still a very real fear in 1986 but not much is offered up to scare people more or put them at ease. Lydon just going through the motions of being Lydon, unaware that he was running out of relevance. If only we could ignore him.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

Watt Government: "Working My Fingers to the Bone"

One and done's with a silly band name doesn't bode well but for one thing: their single is rather good. Utilizing Talking Heads' new-wave-meets-world-beat style, their sound is a little more loungey while remaining firmly tied to DIY post-punk values. It's really no exaggeration to say that this could have been a new Two Tone movement for the mid-eighties had the Watts been given more of a chance to thrive. Records you don't hear anymore and didn't even get much back then. A nice surprise.

Andy White: Religious Persuasion / PiL: "Rise" / The Damned: "Eloise"

29 January 1986

"There's some good stuff around at the moment, so forgive me but I've got three Singles Of The Fortnight."

— Janice Long

The 1985 batch of Singles of the Fortnight produced co-winners on five occasions, by far the most we've seen so far. Not to be outdone, '86 isn't quite a month old and we've got our first SOTF triple winner. Being a longtime champion of indie music and a close friend of John Peel, it comes as no surprise that guest reviewer Janice Long has marked out a pair of punk throwbacks and an up and coming folkie as personal favourites. I'm not quite as fond of all of 'em but let's start with the best of the bunch — and go downhill from there. (I was going to take the mickey out of her indecisiveness over the three-way draw by writing about every other record in the so-called "cop" section below until I discovered what a truly dire pile of singles she was tasked with. Wanting to save myself the trouble, I went with the safe choice. Plus, four is already too many)

~~~~~

"(This record's getting another push, thank God. So, distribution department — get your act together and put it in the shops!)"

Once a home to the likes of Elvis Costello, Dr. Feelgood, Ian Dury and Nick Lowe, Stiff Records was one of many great labels that cropped up in the aftermath of punk. Aware of new wave/post-punk futurism, they also had an eye on pop music traditions stretching from music hall to Merseybeat. They had legendary reviews that toured Britain in the late seventies and many of their charges became household names. They gradually all departed but replacements were snapped up and many of them — Kirsty MacColl, Madness, The Pogues — also did well for themselves. Still, they may have "stiffed" some of their less successful signings.

As Long suggests, Andy White's record label didn't know what they were doing with him. She's clearly frustrated that such an outstanding record would be so difficult to find but they seem to have even managed to mess up copies that were made available. A short write up in this issue's Bitz section mentions that the single is out in both 7" and 12" formats but there's little to indicate that the latter ever ended up being released except for as a promo. Curious youngsters reading Long's review (as well as those who happened to be listening when she doubtless played it on her Radio 1 show) may have taken a pass on the more expensive EP; those who still took a chance may have been turned off by the lengthy, five, six minute numbers "The Big Rain" and "Things Start to Unwind". Even fans of White's may have taken aback by it: the EP's four tracks all ended up on subsequent solo album Rave on Andy White and they may not have been pleased to have bought them twice. A widely distributed 7" single could have garnered more interest and may have even snagged a chart position.

Long only bothers with the title track (as does Bitz) and she's right to do so. Not that the other songs are inferior but they all smack of being deep cuts that have no business on a single. "Religious Persuasion", however, is the closest thing to a pop song and one that is surprisingly accessible. Not exactly a singalong — it's far too difficult trying to keep up with White — it's a rollicking piece and a fun listen even though the bitterness is hardly disguised. Long says it isn't anti-religion (though it sure doesn't make much of a case for it) but certainly the lyrics poke fun at the ludicrousness and randomness of faith — and even the tendency among people to pick and choose ("I quaked in my sackcloth, threw away my joss-stick, burned my Koran and said I was agnostic").

You don't hear it much anymore but I used to find it fascinating (and a bit irksome) when someone would be described as being of the " ____ persuasion". I wasn't able to grasp that "female persuasion" or "Irish persuasion" were likely intended to be used ironically. They're not talked into their gender or their nationality — or their religion! Well, as far as faith goes they certainly are. Parents talk their young children into their faith, spouses try to convince each other to try their church, nutters on the street who don't know you are convinced that they know what's best for you: religion is built upon getting others to go along with you. In that spirit, Andy White has done his job — and he didn't even have to do much persuading.

~~~~~

"Great start to 1986 for Lydon, eh? Being awarded all that money in the court case and a single that looks set to become a number one."

I've always wondered if it ever annoys John Lydon that his best group is completely overshadowed by his previous, more famous unit. (I'd ask but (a) I don't know him and (b) I'd be too scared of his response) Public Image Ltd already had a deeper and stronger back catalog by the mid-eighties than the Sex Pistols, even if you factor in that horrible crap that they belched out after their charismatic frontman departed in 1978. Of course if PiL have been so slighted, Lydon hasn't done much to combat it.

Having started off with British musicians such as Jah Wobble and Keith Leverne, Lydon's eventual move to the US resulted in a much more American band — with some fellow expats joining in. The post-punk and reggae influences were done away with but he avoided pulling a Fleetwood Mac with sunshine LA pop because he kept his eyes on trends in hip hop and indie. He took a lot of flack for bringing in rock dinosaurs like Cream's Ginger Baker but anyone who was able to get jazz drummer Tony Williams to work with them has my instant respect. With influences from all over the shop and a similarly catholic pack of sessioners, this is far from Lydon's "American" sound, rather a reflection of his individualism. 

But I'm more an admirer than a fan. "Rise" is fine. Long is correct about the chorus being surprisingly catchy (and, during the much repeated "may the road rise with you" line, His Nibs even comes close to singing!) and it's quite the sonic experience, a testament to some fine production and arranging and Lydon's creative mind. What's missing is a song. Lyrics and tune are repetitive and there's a sense that he and collaborator Bill Laswell underwrote a piece that had been such a startling sound experience. There are lots of good ideas here but they're in need of something else. Like "Manic Monday" (see below), it's nice but it goes "absolutely nowhere". Interesting and with elements to enjoy but just lacking that bit of spark that separates "Religious Persuasion" from "Eloise". Speaking of which...

~~~~~

"Go for it lads! (Even if I am exhausted at the end of it.)" 

I will have to respectfully disagree here. Not because I'm especially fond of Paul Ryan's 1968 original but because the two really don't differ that much. Highfalutin vocals by rock-era crooner are matched by those of Damned singer Dave Vanian. The Neil Diamond-esque orchestrations on Ryan's recording are recreated by goth guitars and high-pitched synths. Even the five-and-a-half-minutes of hammering the point home on the original are copied practically to the second here.

Singers such as Marc Almond and Nick Cave began showing an interest in finding the dark side of sixties pop songs at around this time and The Damned do a commendable job of seeking it in "Eloise". They probably even find it for all I know. Yet, it's not a great song and with a performance that is far too over the top for me to feel invested in it. But what do I know? Their cover of "Eloise" proved to be almost as big a hit as Ryan's version seventeen years earlier so whatever these recordings had going against them, the punters lapped it all up. I wonder if they, too, felt as exhausted as Long and I both did.

~~~~~

Also Reviewed This Fortnight

The Bangles: "Manic Monday"

"It's very "nice" — nothing more, nothing less."

Written by "Christopher" (aka Prince, in one of those pop fun facts that everyone thinks no one else knows), "Manic Monday" was a breakthrough for The Bangles who were either the throwaway pop group it was okay to like or the classic pop-rock torchbearers who were never quite up to snuff. Neither is true but that was the feeling. Long's assessment seems dismissive but is she wrong? A great song is sometimes just a great song. (I would've chosen another record from this issue but for the fact that there wasn't anything else of note that could inspire just a piddly little paragraph) Much disappointed to discover that the line is "have to catch an early train, got to be to work by nine" and not that she had to be "in Duluth by nine", as I had always assumed it to be; "Christopher" was from Minnesota, you know.