Henry Cow - 'Western Culture' (Interzone)

This is the record for which the 'Thatcher anticipation' tag on the sidebar was invented, the swan song of Henry Cow, reduced here to a four-piece instrumental band and performing two side-long compositions, or song suites I guess. Not only is John Greaves gone, but so is the sock; Cutler's cut-out art (there's some nice alliteration) is actually really appropriate and nicely composed, just like the record itself. 'History and Prospects' is written by original member Tim Hodgkinson, and is one of the more genre-bending Cow compositions, though it's not exactly hip-hop or country music. Its opening piece, 'Industry', references the then-burgeoning industrial music scene, or maybe they weren't aware of that and it's just inspired by proletariat Marxism (or, perhaps by both); either way it's hot shit, with Frith playing a thick, almost dubby bassline between some modal reeds and a thick groove-beat. There's some electroacoustic work here, tapes and other noise, which make a few crashing percussive parts sound like Neubauten. Overall it's one of my favourite Henry Cow tracks, one which seems to look the furthest ahead not just in terms of electronic integration but towards Frith's later work in New York, in the 80s. 'The Decay of Cities' comes next, a bit more textbook perhaps, but that textbook is about labour statistics and urbanism, and it punches above its weight. Difficult music, maybe, but it's spacious and it's still recognisable as modern instrumental rock music, with the free/drone/noise parts used more like icing on a cake. Cooper's 'Day by Day', on the flip, is a little more conventional prog-Cow, or at least more fitting in the continuum of their Virgin-era records. I know now that Western Culture was their Abbey Road, recorded with it intending to be the end, so I can hear resignation in the heavy, ponderous rhythms and the probing, unresolved oboe/sax lines. But I can also hear connections to some of their past and future collaborators, showing them to be a band in the truest meaning of the word 'progressive'. It could be the acoustic guitar plucks here and there, sounding not unlike Derek Bailey, but also the spazzy bits of 'The Decay of Cities' which show the influence of the Residents and Ralph Records - a turn towards surrealist sound, perhaps another way that I see Western Culture more like a beautiful beginning (or collection of beginnings) than a somber ending.

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!

Tim Buckley - 'Sefronia' (Discreet/Warner Bros)

About halfway through side one of this record I started wondering why this is in my collection. Then I remembered that the two-part title track, buried near the end of side 2, which is an interesting little suite of melodies that hint of past glories (Blue Afternoon in particular). Maybe. And it begins with something redeemable -- the side 1 track 1 is a Fred Neil song called 'Dolphins' that's pretty great in a country-rock/70's smooth kinda way, sounding a bit like Dennis Wilson or that awesome Donnie and Jo Emerson record. But then two songs later, my throat is trying to cut off oxygen to my brain, or maybe that's just the effect I get from staring at Buckley's tropical button-down shirt on the back cover. And when I start to think I'm just exaggerating, I get to 'Peanut Man' and things are even worse. Buckley's last three records (of which this is the second) are called "sex-funk" records by Wikipedia, but I don't see it. It's not fair to funk, or to sex, to be compared to this music. There are many tunes on Happy Sad, Starsailor and Lorca that are funkier and sexier than this. But maybe I've just always screwed weird people. "Pour another glass of cola and pass it to me / I 'm looking through you, yes I can / I should do you, peanut man" is some of the most erotic poetry ever put to music, indeed. I guess my negativity surrounding this comes from the fact that it follows a truly spellbinding run of innovative music, which I've really enjoyed revisiting, listening to some of them multiple times (technically beyond the Underbite requirements, you know). I can find a few positive notes in 'Martha' , which is influenced by Jimmy Webb and/or John Prine (though actually penned by Tom Waits), a sad slice o' life that finds Buckley holding back his own vocal fire. But 'I Know I'd Recognize Your Face' is so completely fucking terrible that it feels a bit like a parody 70's duet that would be in a comedy sketch. The next round of purges will have to seriously consider the argument that this is worth keeping just for 'Sefronia' and 'Dolphins', and right now I'm leaning heavily against it. It's a sad way to end our minor Buckley gauntlet, but I guess it was a sad way for his career/life to end.