The Jesus and Mary Chain - 'Psychocandy' (Reprise)

The sun don't shine, the stars don't shine, the walls fall down, the fish get drowned – it's bleak on the surface, but I never took the Jesus and Mary Chain all that seriously. At least not when it came to their goth posturing; what were they trying to be, druggie weirdos, retro rockers, or post-new wave shoegazers? Many people never cared for anything they did as much as this debut LP, and maybe I'm included - I certainly don't own any other recordings by them, though I used to have Honey's Dead on tape. Psychocandy is wonderfully simple, and I didn't realise that Primal Scream's Bobby Gillespie was the drummer on it but the beautiful monotony of the rhythms made me look at who it was, and wouldn't you know it, it was him – which makes sense, in a way. The unforgettable drumbeat is the opening one, on 'Just Like Honey', still the J&MC song that seems to turn up the most on soundtracks and over the sound system at bars and clubs. That beat may just be the key, since it might as well be sampled from 'Be My Baby', and the 'candy' aspect is all I can hear today. That almost the exact same beat opens 'Sowing Seeds' doesn't seem to matter; Psychocandy is 14 songs but somehow feels short. A lot of drama can be packed into those songs; when it sounds like it can't get any more full-on, they can still stomp on a different set of effects pedals and kick things up to another level, as heard on 'My Little Underground'. In high school this music sounded so nihilistic and pushy to me, even though the melodies are undeniable (the 'uh-uh-oh's in 'Taste of Cindy' seemed ironic to me then, but now they sound to be bathed in as much adoration as they are in feedback). Really, this is the Ramones through one more iteration, or just using (slightly) different drugs. The guitar feedback squeals bathe everything with a greater sense of chaos than the shoegazer bands would dare try just a few years later; that's when it really sounds great, turned up loud - 'Inside Me' can even sound a bit scary on the right system. Sometimes all a band needs to do is figure out how to combine two things no one else was combining; in this case it was poofy hair + feedback. For awhile it seemed like trends in pop music came in regular waves, so it was logical that a 60s pop revival would happen in the 80s, though filtered through 80s aesthetics; that 70s folk-rock would get another wave in the 00s, etc. Now, things are too fragmented (subculturally and in terms of influence) so there's just everything all of the time, which means there will always be bands worshipping at the altar of Phil Spector and approaching it with whatever affects of the contemporary milieu are around. Just like there will always be bands worshipping at the altar of Hasil Adkins or the Stooges or Malaria or whatever.  I can't see a pop artist like the Jesus and Mary Chain ever achieving much chart success again, even in the UK, but the same is true for anyone that bases music around guitars now. I don't mourn this change, but rather enjoy the next wave which sounds very much of the moment – bands influenced by the J&MC as much as the J&MC were influenced by the Ronettes. This includes Merchandise and Cometa Fever and a lot of other stuff and while it starts to run together for me at some point, it's a sound that's always enjoyable, maybe because it brings back a sense of teenage cool so otherwise lacking in my life.

Contortions - 'Buy' (Ze)

They called this stuff "no wave" and I guess that's because it had some nasty sounding guitars and a snarl behind the fun - though I suspect these guys were just as fussy about footwear and hairstyles as their keyboard-soaked peers. I always though the Contortions predated James White and the Blacks, but apparently they operated in parallel, which means this is less of a James White/Chance vehicle then I thought. Guitarist Jody Harris has to get some credit for being integral to this; certianly, his playing is the reason to listen in 2011. This is actually fun party music, with disco beats and fake-free guitar parts; the clanging and dissonance all stays contained and the structures never get too wild. It's a short album, more like a mini-LP, and there's weird bursts of alto sax that make the whole thing sound insanely clean. James Chance sings like an American Mick Jagger but I'm not sure what to compare his sax technique to. There's actually far less sax than I remembered, and it never gets that dissonant except on the last track 'Bedroom Athelete'. The songs are fast and fun, drenched in attitude that fits well when the guitars go wild; 'My Infatuation' is all shreds and slides, removing the traditional role of the guitar entirely, and you can do that when you have such a snappy, solid rhythm section. 'Twice Removed' is my fave because it hints at what the Contortions could do when they held their tendencies at bay; there's a brooding tension remniscent of what Pere Ubu were doing at this same time though it resists the urge to get truly weird. The presence of keyboards is quite minimal, but when they're there, it's cool - more like a fruity 60's organ feel. These currents of youth attitude come and go in waves, because this now reminds me of the Nation of Ulysses in some ways.

Cabaret Voltaire - 'Eight Crespuscule Tracks' (Giant)

Fast-forward eight years later from Red Mecca, and somehow Cabaret Voltaire have transformed into a full-on dance/club act, though still with some "scary"/dark elements to reference their original sound. This is a weird compilation, originally three songs released on the Crespuscule label, and here filled out to LP length. These original three songs, all titled 'Sluggin Fer Jesus', open side one and do the sampled Evangelical Christian thing -- I hate to sound so cynical, but this is actually a step backwards (if you ask me) from Negativland's 'Christianity is Stupid'. Compared to their early 80s roots, the late 80s Cab Volt has much brighter production and a very strong tendency towards the goofy dance-orientated cop-out. I must sound like I don't care for this record much, which is probably true -- I'm not sure how it ended up in my collection. Side B contains a mess of things - the wrly intoned 'Your Agent Man', and the theme from Shaft are both present. There's still a really heavy emphasis on tape loops and interesting textures, but many of the tapes are vocal samples -- like they've sacrificed mood for the dancefloor aesthetic. In some way though, I think it fails at that too - I can't imagine any of these tracks actually being played in a club. Though the drum sounds are bigger, they still have a tinniness to them that I can't imagine being particularly compelling in a dance club. It feels to me a bit like Red Mecca CV was a band trying to figure themselves out, and Eight Crespuscule Tracks is a band that found it. I'm just not sure if I like where they ended up - maybe I should check out the intermediary journey, as it's bound to be interesting. There are plenty of interesting, experimental elements on this LP to justify it; it's certainly not awful, just somewhat, I dunno, compromised. And the Shaft cover isn't even that bad!

Thomas Brinkmann - 'Clara/Doris' (Ernst)

'Clara' is a dark and somewhat pounding number that in it's first half (see, all of these 12"s are four tracks, two per name, so I am treating them as two suites -- although because there's lock-grooves galore, I have to pick up the needle constantly just to get these started) changes things up a bit at the end. But no worries, as the second half returns to it's minimal, muted-bass pounding and never lets up. There are weird gasps - some sharp blocky sounds hiding in the corners of the stereo field and the occasional white noise flourish. It's extremely routine techno but conjures a dark enough woodsy feel to me that I dig it. 'Doris' is different beast entirely. The first half continues along the bassy, wood-block feel but it has a few sampled vocals creeping out, but only a hint! The second half is truly sublime - sounding like all natural percussion samples, this relatively chilled-out track bounces around with some intense tinny clicking and some heavy low-mids eating up the stereo field. It stops and adjusts itself a few times, and ends up reminding me a bit of some AACM/Art Ensemble jams, like on Bap-tizum. Yeah, I know, i tend to like the most organic sounding of the techno records I own, but kill me.

Thomas Brinkmann - 'Axel/Bernd' (Ernst)

Oh yeah, this is why I hate techno - cause it sucks! 'Axel' begins with a streak of white noise that continues over a beat, creating a Tron-type of universe that's probably fun to dance do if you're zonked out of your mind on some shitty pills, but pretty boring to listen to at home. The second half of 'Axel' is the same beat with the white noise pulled back, so there's a little more space to bounce around, but it still does nothing for me. I like music that celebrates humanity, and the sparse, more clicky-based Brinkmann stuff somehow does that through it's repetition and negative space. But this stuff is just like listening to a computer jacking off. Now 'Bernd' is a little better but still too active for my tastes , with the beats all flanged out and jittery. I don't know why this 12" has male names and not female ones; maybe this is the reason for my dislike of it, since it's not really all that different from the female records. I should also take this point to comment on how amazingly strange the surfaces of these LPs look - I don't know if they were cut to have all of these patterns in them, or if that's just an inevitable product of having such repeitive music. But they look awesome and sometimes my tonearm slides all over the place while playing them, making me wonder if this is even a good idea. So cheers for that, Thomas - the flourishes, design-wise, are in the details of the grooves and not in the packaging.

Thomas Brinkmann - 'Anna / Beate' (Ernst)

I've always been the type to say that I hate techno music, which is mostly true. However, I came across the chance to scoop up a cache of Brinkmann 12"s for a really good price - this was in or about 1999 -- so I leapt at it. And I really love these records, or at least I say that even though I haven't listened to any of them in a decade. When I was going on some rant about shitty house music techno Detroit ravers not too long ago, I remember that I had these and said "Wait, I like techno!" I then proceeded to throw on one of these records and my company said "This isn't techno, it's clicks-and-cuts." Well, forgive me for not knowing all of the subgenres of this particular subculture. So maybe it's just clicks and cuts that I like. It's certainly true that the majority of the rhythmic bursts on these 10 records would fall into a "click" or a "cut". The 'Anna' side in particular has a more resonant tone that comes in, like a pipe or bell, but with all of the reverb truncated. It's going to become incredibly difficult for me to describe these records so I'll just turn to the abstract: 'Anna' is a bit like trying to vacuum underneath a sofa, but not being quite able to get there. 'Beate' is two tracks that ramp up the momentum, doubling up on themselves to make me feel pretty nervous. The second one brings in an acoustic bass lick and for a moment the beats stop, and it's just an utterly stupid, cartoonish moment that kinda makes me laugh. Yes, humour abounds in the dryest form of minimal Euro electronica. I could fill this post with my explanation of why I like this and my feelings and interest in "minimalism" but I gotta save something for the next nine.

Box Codax - 'Only an Orchard Away' (Thin Man)

A strange side-project of a Franz Ferdinand guy, this record veers between goofy toy-electro ('Pollockshields Girls') to creepy, undanceable disco ('Naked Smile', 'Missed Her Kiss') to warped canyon-jams ('Like a Rock'). Does it ever stop to figure itself out? Does it have an identity? Not really, but there's some totally retarded drum programming to enjoy while you try to make sense of it. Ah, Germans. A few novelty bits like 'I Swam With the Otter' are just fucking unbearable, but then there's occasionally some goof-offs that work, like 'Do It With Charm', with European street music flair and extemporised lyrics. I mean, most of this record comes off like a total joke but one that is done quite strictly. If I'm struggling to find something kind to say, I'll comment that you can definitely hear the friendship of the participants, and the jokes are actually too strange (or too "inside") to be funny to anyone, so maybe you can reinterpret this as serious 'art' music. The voice of a new generation. What the kids are into. You know. I've been to Pollokshields and the girls aren't anything to write home about, but I'm strangely forgiving of this bit of goofing off.

Band Apart (Crammed Discs)

I don't know much about this band but I bet there's some interesting connection to someone more well-known. Though on a Belgian label, the come from NYC and have that moody, early 80's dance vibe to them (the credits date this as early 1983). 'Jaguar' begins with some off-timed guitar jangle, and the beat comes in suggesting we're in Pylon territory. But 'Jaguar' has a much darker, more melting atmosphere. The vocals are gasped and dramatic, but pulled back in the mix. Everything has a dubby layer of goop overtop and you can tell this band made the most of their time in the studio. It's a brilliant track and a totally worthy leadoff for this 4 song, 45rpm 12" - the kind that should show up in hipster club nights today and bum the kids out. 'Strainer' is a more plodding tune that takes awhile to get going and ends very, very abrupty - like they simply ran out of tape -- but while underway, its a good induction into Band Apart's paramilitary force. The B-side has two more: 'Eve Ryonne' has stars in its eyes and the beat is cranked to the forefront with relentless precision. It is the EP's most "New Wave" moment (beyond the Godard reference in their band name) but there's still some evidence of weird electronic processing in-between the lines. 'Le Mont des des Olives' doubles it's article, perhaps a French-speaking gesture for their Brusselian label. This is the big finale, a churning, accelerating wall of sound that deconstructs 'Baba O'Reilly' through the lens of 'All World Cowboy Romance'. Some jellyfish synths float up into the ether until it's a dreamy, ecstatic potage. A minor forgotten masterpiece of a track? Two absolute winners and two decent stopgaps are why this will always have a place on my shelf. So what else did they produce?

A R Kane - 'sixty-nine' (Rough Trade)

Source: Jerry's, sometime around 2000 or 2001.

Veer into the London acid-house/trip-hop scene for a bit. Or maybe just a tiny bit, cause I don't really know what A.R. Kane are. A bit of dub, a bit of Ash Ra Tempel, and a bit of whatever Seal is? I always thought it was weird that this trippy psychedelic dance band with all of these seriously artistic lyrics named their album 'sixty-nine' - I mean why not call it 'reacharound' or 'the admiral' or 'the tired totem pole'? But I get it, this is sex music -- dynamic sex music. Some tracks would be good for anonymous sex, and others for the kind of really sensual erotic experiences, like whatever Tim Robbins' character in High Fidelity is into. Cause these rhythms and drones just make me wanna light some candles, maybe change into a creepy robe, and just let things open up, baby. These dudes apparenty influenced Flying Saucer Attack, which is why I bought this about a decade ago, and I didn't hear it much at the time but now I do. But they sound like they influenced stuff like Long Fin Killie and Seefeel even more, and that's A-OK because I think that stuff is due for a revival.