Joy Division - 'Unknown Pleasures' (Factory)

This is another one of those 'classics' that I'm almost embarrassed to have in the accumulation, if only because a) I rarely listen to it and b) I will certainly struggle to write original thoughts about it in 2017. Coming between the bootleg of Warsaw and the superior vision of Closer, it's interesting as a midpoint, or if you like to marvel at how far bands push themselves in a short period of time. I'm sure this is not an original observation, but Martin Hannett's production is just about everything to why this is a great record, and if you don't believe me, listen to Warsaw. I'm sure that Hannett and the band were working in synergy here, but regardless, the decision to strip out the middle of these songs, rather than filling them with crunchy guitar chords, is what makes Unknown Pleasures such a definitive turning point between punk and post. This introduction of emptiness of course amplifies the lyrical themes but it really opens up the songs and lets mood play a role, a gesture towards what is felt and not heard. Event underwritten songs like 'Candidate' gain so much from this expansion, and it still gets thick and meaty at times. 'Shadowplay' is attenuated towards a wall of sound feeling; 'New Dawn Fades' and 'Day of the Lords' are balanced, production-wise, against their baroque tendencies. It doesn't hurt that Curtis really starts to emerge as one of rock's iconic voices on this record, with the same menace as the Warsaw sound but an increased commitment to emotional delivery, meaning he's actually singing, and his 'When will it end?' is bone-chilling even if you don't consider his ultimate fate. It's a voice that is almost defiantly masculine after the 70s sounds of Bowie and glam, yet implying more than it lets on. This is still Factory rock music, made by cold men in dark warehouses, but it's inching towards a more cybernetic approach, the full-on embrace of synthesisers to come later in New Order but no doubt a concern this early on, already. Morris's drumming is more motorik, and a song like 'Insight' is far from computerised but looking at least in that direction. Synths are used more atmospherically here, swooping into the corners and occasionally roaring. There's a reason university students still walk around wearing t-shirts bearing this logo today, despite the fact that the only two songs even remotely close to being catchy/hook-based are 'Disorder' and 'She's Lost Control'. And there's a reason we still have scores of bands like Protomartyr essentially aping the sound of 'Wilderness', four decades later. 

Ici La Bas (Black Noise)

A prized possession here, Ici La Bas would be normally filed under H for the Homosexuals, or maybe a bit deeper down in the Is for 'Les Incroyables' (credited as the producer), but I'm going with the Discogs.com hierarchy here – they have it as a self-titled release by the artist Ici La Bas (their only release, of course).  All six of these tracks appear on the indispensible first disc of the Homosexuals Astral Glamour compilation, though most are pushed towards the ass-end of the sequence. And this is a prime slice of the experimental side of these guys, with 'Regard Omission', 'Galore Galore' and 'Cause A Commotion' all experiments in reverbed guitars and other studio assemblages. I mean, it's all studio assemblages - 'Nippon Airways' is a dub song, getting away with it in the way that so many UK artists of the late 70s were able to do. The middle cuts from each side are the most coherent songs; I've listened to 'The Total Drop' so many times that it feels like a part of my own heartbeat, though it's a bouncy and bubblegummy entry for the Homosexuals canon and probably not one many others adores as much as I do. 'Flying' is a bit more on the jagged, sneering side of things but it's propelled with a beautiful momentum. In many ways, the genius of this broken collective only comes together when compiled as a larger body of work. Had I only this 12" to go from, I would find it occasionally brilliant and slightly frustrating, which is of course exactly what the Homosexuals were, but hardly anything to build a religion around. There's no 'Hearts in Exile' or 'False Sentiments' here, but knowing those cuts from the other releases it congeals into something magnificent, work that inspires not just in the mysterious nature of their public identity, but in the music itself, which is timeless and brilliant. Tiger makes it better.

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.

Roy Harper - 'One Of Those Days In England (Bullinamingvase)' (Chrysalis)

This record (which also has a different title in the US) more explicitly deals with issues of life in England, circa 1977, and while there's nary a trace of the punk sound taking over those shores at the time, it paints a portrait that is somewhat less idealised than the work of Ray Davies, while remaining true to Roy Harper's personality and past body of work. It also has some dudes from Wings playing on it. 'One of Those Days in England', the song, is split across the record; part one serves as a bouncy introduction to the whole LP, and is really just a love song; side two is given over to parts two through ten, which develop a bit like 'The Game' on the previous LP - a proper prog-rock suite, just not super proggy. Harper never gets into excessively jammy solos or fancy time signatures; I think after listening to all these records I can safely say he's confident with his technical skills and also likes the pop-rock format just fine, not seeking to tear it down with experimental musique concrete interludes or jazzy improvisations. Yet he still pushes the form in terms of duration and assemblage, making what I would call 'complicated pop'; parts 2-10 of the title track are maybe the best example yet of it all. The sheer length of it makes it feel slightly like light opera, but thankfully there's no central narrative. 'One of Those Days in England' is extremely English, sure, and makes no secret of the country's decline, but it's really a love song using the backdrop of nation, memory, and current events as a lyrical device. Coming when it does - before Thatcher took over and fucked shit up even further, there's a wistful nostalgia to the grumbling, like a little bit of decline is OK and who knew how bad things would get after this point. A Brexit anthem this is not, however; it's personal and idiosyncratic like everything of Harper's, resisting any possibilities for being co-opted as part of a movement or protest. I guess the first part of 'One of Those Days in England', standing alone on side 1, works not just as an introduction to the album but as potential radio single. It certainly sounds a lot more polished than anything on HQ; there's slick backing vocals and keyboards and a tendency towards a less 'hard' edge. The material in-between -- the rest of side 1 -- has some lovely parts; 'These Last Days' and 'Cherishing the Lonesome' continue the record's themes of love and loss and are quite Apollonian, moving through light, gentle melodies, towards a definitive rock and roll statement in the latter piece. 'Naked Flame' is the high point of the whole LP to me, a very crunchy folky piece which just screams with bright treble sonorities. A twelve-string guitar has never sounded better on vinyl, and there's also a close aesthetic similarity to some of the more traditional-leaning folkie Brits of the time, at least more than Harper tends to express. It's all dragged down by 'Watford Gap', which supposedly was left off some pressings because it was 'controversial', although it's about stopping at a roadside services and having a shitty meal. The meal was obviously so shitty that Harper was inspired to write a silly novelty song about it, but if you've spent many days in England you should have expected it, I would think.

Essential Logic - 'Beat Rhythm News - Waddle Ya Play ?' (Rough Trade)

It's easily been a decade since I last listened to this, so it's like hearing it for the first time. Essential Logic is built around Lora Logic, the saxophonist in X-Ray Spex, who comes to the forefront here as songwriter and lead vocalist. It's much less herky-jerky than I remember it being. I daresay this is closer to pop music than anything radical or abrasive, though with weird punk girl vocals (not really a million miles away from Cyndi Lauper) and brassy jazz bits. But was 'punk', in the UK at least, ever supposed to be more than a new form of pop? Logic's songwriting is strong, which I've always overlooked about Essential Logic before. This isn't the verbal territory of 'O Bondage, Up Yours!', but one of more abstract, poetic observations (which is possibly why she clicked so well with Mayo Thompson). The catchiest tune is 'Wake up', which for some reason doesn't have lyrics printed, but it's a perfect guitar hook that moves quickly beyond any trappings of it's milieu. 'Shabby Abbott' does critique organised religion but it's not so obvious, instead built around domestic awareness. Logic is a saxophonist so that's featured on every song, with additional sax by Dave Wright, arranging songs like 'World Friction' into thick, big-band style interplay with a slightly discordant lean. 'Albert Albert Albert' is about as challenging as it gets, with some Sonic Youth chord cadences and some really distinct song structures; closer 'Popcorn Boy' descends into a marching band chant for the album's final moments, and it's an accomplishment, as is the album as a whole. Shit, this is a really great record, and it feels somewhat underrated now (as it's been a decade since all this stuff got reissued and hyped up). Let's keep it in our consciousness. I'm curious about finding a copy of Logic's solo LP, Pedigree Charm -- maybe by the time I reach the L's, I will have found one.

Kevin Coyne - 'Marjory Razor Blade' (Virgin)

This is Kevin Coyne's masterpiece, and I'm lucky to have the double LP version. It's sprawling and messy, like all double albums, but compared to the spare Case History this is a rocker. Lyrically, Coyne's turning his gaze to the middle class as opposed to the deranged mental patients he chronicled before, but really, is there a difference? 'This Is Spain' in particular resonates with me because of a terrible business trip I was on once that had me stuck in Marbella, a touristy hellhole if there ever is one. I didn't think of that song then but how great it would have been to walk around listening to it on headphones. But what an awesome record this is - the blues edges are sharper, the drums give everything a pounding edge, and Coyne's distinctive voice is the powerful center (even though he's not mixed that high). The title track opens things up in a practically 'Dust Blows Forward' manner, an a-capella dirge with twisted aggro flavours. When 'Marlene' comes out of it, it's a magical explosion, and like the fellow side-A cut 'Eastbourne Ladies', Coyne really never sounds better. The album is back and forth a bit between the drum-driven electric blues and the mellow ballads, with two Carter Family tunes thrown in the mix. The 'blues' is rampant, particularly on side two. 'Cheat Me' is pure knife-edge; 'I Want My Crown' and 'Mummy' feel more like sketches than full "songs" - a place for the band to stretch out with some slide stylings and other affects. Because I tend to enjoy Coyne's acoustic side more, I find these tracks charming, and maybe Marjory Razor Blade is so perfect because the balance is just right. When there is a full band, like 'House on the Hill', it's a nice momentum-builder; this song, feeling like a holdover from Case History because of the frank way it addresses mental illness, is nonetheless one of the album's strongest. Record two begins with my all-time favourite Coyne song, 'Jackie and Edna', a song about loneliness and regret unlike anything else I've ever heard. There's some class consciousness sprinkled throughout Marjory Razor Blade but it's not overwhelming - we're not into Housemartins or Billy Bragg territory, though I suspect Coyne may have been an influence here. This was about as close to commercial success as he ever got, and while I'm not intimately familiar with his later output, the general wisdom is that he never bettered this -- who am I to argue?

Buzzcocks - 'Singles Going Steady' (I.R.S.)

What a great document of the maturation of Mr. Pete Shelley as a songwriter! But it's a parallel development of A-sides and B-sides, for Singles Going Steady is consistently steady, set up along two rails. One would think the A-sides would be more enjoyable but with such fucking great B-sides, this is a winner all around. Pop music reflects the concerns of its time and in early 1978 these Mancunians were whining about dissatisfaction and self-identification. But a slew of love songs makes this more bubblegum than the dark-tinged artwork would suggest at first glance. When Steve Diggle sings (on the wonderful 'Harmony in My Head' and 'Autonomy') it's a nice bit of gruff to contrast Shelley's croon. And at the very end we hear the progress towards monotonous 80s new wave in 'Why Can't I Touch It?' and 'Something's Gone Wrong Again', with their midtempo beats and chorus pedal flourishes. But it's mostly fast and energetic, which is why kids still dance their tits off to 'What Do I Get?' today. And acts like Jay Reatard (until recently) thrived with the same basic sound, only dumbed-down. Shelley is smart, both lyrically and in songcraft. The aforementioned 'What Do I Get?' (one of four interrogative song titles here) has this little upturn harmonising the last time round the verse and chorus. It's the perfect harmony to the main melody but Shelley is singing it alone, so you have to imagine. 'Ever Fallen in Love', 'Noise Annoys' and 'Promises' are three more gems that I just want to single out for being excellent songs. This is like the best one-artist mixtape imaginable, and that's why it's a shame I often forget to listen to these Buzzcocks records. I was in a record store a few years ago and I heard a current Buzzcocks album, and I can't say it sounded bad either - consistency is a virtue that these guys have been practicing for almost 35 years now. I've never checked out Pete Shelley's minimal synth solo albums but maybe it's about time.

Buzzcocks - 'Time's Up (Featuring Howard Devoto)' (Smilin' Ears)

I never thought about this until I pulled out Time's Up, but bootlegs are another casualty of our digital Internet age. I know there's still semi-legitimate reissues going around, but that's not the same as when these were mass-produced and a serious source of revenue-theft. You can distribute anything, anytime, anyhow. I remember Pearl Jam's stunt releasing all of those live concerts from that one tour, which was only what, like 12 years ago? It feels like a million. Time's Up isn't a live recording though, but all of the studio sessions with Howard Devoto on vocals. This is a somewhat nastier, attitude-heavy Buzzcocks than when Pete Shelley totally takes over, but the title works because there's something timeless about these tunes. This particular bootleg of Time's Up is a beauty - the black and white cover gives away it's shadyness, and the "All Rights Reserved/All Wrongs Reversed" line on the back was stolen by Matador years later. Hooray for Smilin' Ears records of Valencia, Venezuela. This pretty much opens and closes the door on Howard Devoto in the Buzzcocks, I think, and it's been available in a zillion different ways and levels of legitimacy. This one is dirty sounding, as if the stolen master tapes were quickly pressed to vinyl and then returned. There's a few times the audio drops out -- more than a few times, really -- but this accentuates the edgy snarl of Devoto's pissy delivery. The famous Spiral Scratch tunes are here - 'Boredom', 'Orgasm Addict', etc. -- but it's the Sex Pistols-like dirges such as 'Drop in the Ocean' and 'Love Battery' that stand out the most to me. There's points when I wonder how much more ass-kicking this would sound if it was a decent mastering job, but in a way I like the Devoto era this way -- save the big sound for the next few records. It's dust on the stylus, but that's the sound -- the Northern dream, melted, and recalibrated through the lens of the time. Does 'Love Everybody's opening lyric of "I love you, big dummy" directly reference Beefheart? The guitar solo is pretty soaked in Zoot Horn Rollo so maybe that's that. The Buzzcocks were never one to quibble their approach; the strength is in the songwriting , the iconic anthems, and the 'tude. I'm actually more of a Magazine fan myself but that doesn't mean this is without merit. The final cut is also labeled as 'Boredom', but it's done in a retro 60's pop-psych style with bleeped lyrics - it sounds like a different band so I'm a bit curious what the deal is with this. But Smilin' Ears ain't exactly reknowned for their liner notes. And it's only listed on the sleeve, not the label, so we'll have to keep wondering about it.

Art Bears - 'Hopes and Fears' (Random Radar Records)

Art Bears are the cream of the crop from that whole scene of musicians that are sometimes called R.I.O. I mean the intellectually-motivated, politically strident, highly prolific gang that stemmed out of Henry Cow (represented by one of those rock music "family tree" diagrams in an insert that came with the first Henry Cow CD boxset many years ago). And oh, what a crop to be the cream of. I don't need to list the many accomplishments of Messrs. Cutler and Frith, and Dagmar Krause is a figure who will pop up several times on this blog. And when I say Art Bears are the best, I don't mean to slight the Cow, the Work, the Lowest Note on the Organ, Lindsay Cooper solo, the Catherine Jauxniaux stuff, Aksak Maboul (who I'd probably have to say are worthy of joint 'cream' crown-sharing), La Societe des Oiseaux etc. It's just that Art Bears were particularly revelatory to me. Prog is a great egg to start chipping away at, and Henry Cow were one of the first prog bands that appealed to me, but Art Bears were ultimately more my thing. I guess it's because they adhered to song structures while maintaining an uncompromising approach to experimentation - not that they are the first band to ever do this, but they do it in a way that blends their incredible eclecticism with their own personalities. There are enough artistic brushstrokes to tickle under the testicles of the sublime, yet still with a coherence that is very direct. Hopes and Fears is their first album, and it actually emerged from Henry Cow sessions. It's funny that this is thought of as being a Henry Cow album since it feels like the most stripped down and simple Art Bears record to me (while Winter Songs, recorded as a trio, feels much more dense). Maybe that's because the songs on HaF have a somewhat folky feel, with a lot of guitars and keyboards, though they occasionally explode into anthemic, driving rock (check out 'In Two Minds', which Wikipedia claims is influenced by the Who but I think that's just cause the piano line is stadium-rockish). This album feels really pomo-rustic to me, like you're walking the Yorkshire Dales but still thinking about the contradictions of capitalism. The lyrics touch on self-reliance ('Labryinth'), surrealist feminist narrative ('Joan'), media ('The Tube') and I think romance though maybe just relationships between humans -- yet the whole album feels infused with someting distinctly British. It's like there's a current that drains through the whole history of music from the British Isles and Hopes and Fears is just another stone in that stream. Dagmar's German accent doesn't alter this, but maybe I just associate her with this sound so much that I've given her an honorary U.K. passport. The bouncy instrumental bits make distinct overtures to these antecedents, though I really feel it more in the lyrics, which often strike pastoral chords in me. Also, most of these songs could be set in any period in history; there are few words that indicate that this record was constructed in the late 1970s. The more wild musical adventures are really going to come on the next two albums, though there are some chilling effects on the instruments. 'The Tube' in particular is a clawing, braying maelstrom of dark drones, and if you mixed out Dagmar and told me it was late Shadow Ring I'd never doubt you.

The Adverts - 'Crossing the Red Sea with' (Bright)

Source: Got it from Ross for a few bucks in January 2003.

'No Time to Be 21' somehow hit the charts hard, though it's not nearly as catchy as 'Bored Teenagers' or the cheating multichord 'One Chord Wonders'. The blueprint was set for a million suburban garage bands while the Jay Reatards to be, not even yet an embryo, would have their work cut out for them. The formula works, except when they drop to half-time and lay on weak semi-psychedelic solos ('On Wheels'). 'Bombsite Boys' is my pick, I think what people mean by a 'deep cut'; 'The Great British Mistake' (insert joke here) closes it out with a repetitive stompdown that ends before it even gets going.