Les Rallizes Denudes - '77 Live (FULL REVIEW)

(For context, I originally posted this review to RateYourMusic a couple of years ago, and included it in my second RYM post on this blog. However it was actually a truncated version of the review; I cut out quite a bit of material to make it shorter. I actually thought the full version was lost, but I came across it whilst going through some old files, so here it is for you to enjoy, with a few tweaks and an additional outro containing information that came out after I originally wrote it.)

For a band to never release a lick of their own material is an all too common truth, though usually it occurs with small time bands formed between friends which last a year or two before splitting up. For a band to last a full 20 years without stopping (along with another 5 year stint a little down the line) without so much as a single of their own is something else entirely. It is here that we arrive at the legendary Japanese noise rock monster that is Les Rallizes Dénudés.

Les Rallizes are a band surrounded in myth and misinformation, largely due to how they essentially flew under the radar during their initial run, rarely giving interviews and mostly sticking to small venues and music festivals. These wild claims range from dodging the authorities to the notion that the band had hijacked an aeroplane (which is wrong, only the band's bassist had been involved, and he had left the band a while before).

Formed in 1967 by a group of Japanese students involved in a major radical movement in Japan during the late 60s, the creative direction of Les Rallizes largely rested on the shoulders of the lead singer and guitarist Takashi Mizutani, who himself has become a symbol of mystery in the band's fanbase due to just how little he was seen outside of the band. We didn't even know he had passed away in 2019 until two whole years later.

As previously stated, one of the things that adds to the mystery of the band is that next to no professional recordings of the band exist, and indeed they released nothing of their own work whilst active. The only exception is an appearance on the 1973 compilation Oz Days Live, which collected a variety of soundboard recordings done at a venue Les Rallizes frequented at the time. It would take until 1991, a full 24 years after their formation, for them to release anything of their own.

The three albums released in 1991, nicknamed the "Rivista Trilogy" after the imprint it came out on, are archival collections from the earlier years of the group. '67-'69 Studio et live and Mizutani / Les Rallizes Dénudés combine a selection of studio and live recordings from their first four years, and are more in line with the psychedelic rock and folk sounds of the time period than the barrage of sound that they would later be acclaimed for. For that, you only need to look at the third album in the collection, the infamous '77 Live.

Recorded on the 12th of March 1977 (hence the name), '77 Live featured a near-complete soundboard recording of that night's show. And what a show it was! Even in the context of the numerous bootlegs of the group that exist, '77 Live towers over them all in the sheer power and energy the group was bringing to the table that night.

Parallels have often been made to Les Rallizes' seeming influence from The Velvet Underground, and while there are similarities, this is a different experience all on its own. The song's in the show's setlist are simple in concept, featuring some basic and borderline repetitive chord progressions, speckled in numerous places by Mizutani's reverb soaked vocals, singing some surprisingly dark lyrics that compliment his singing incredibly. Just have a look at English translations to see what I mean.

But to call the band's repetitive song structures "boring" would be to miss the point entirely, as these songs don't need distinct parts to power through their huge runtime (only one track doesn't pass the 10 minute mark). Most vital to the experience is Mizutani's guitar work, sounding less like a conventional guitar performance and more like a swirling constant wave of feedback that he's reining in like a horse rider. It's both chaotic and yet carefully controlled, spurred along by a chugging baseline and fine backing by the rest of the group. Mizutani may be the MVP of the recording, but the rest of the band provides a solid backbone for his playing to really shine.

The recording quality isn't the best, clearly having been recorded onto a cassette tape (there's even a few dropouts in the sound in places), and yet '77 Live is not only one of the best shows the band would ever make, but also one of the best recorded. Most of the other circulating recordings of their shows were done from the audience and sound much less direct than this document of a fateful spring night in the late 70s.

The album remained out of print for many years, only available through fan-circulated CD rips, until it was finally rereleased officially by Mizutani's estate, who since 2021 have been taking on the task of making Mizutani's work available to the world. Nowadays '77 Live is more accessible than ever, pressed on vinyl for the very first time, and there's no better time to get into the band and their music. Some might say doing this spoils the mystique surrounding the band, but with music this good it could be considered a necessary evil. Better to have the treasure trove revealed than keep it hidden forever.

TL,DR: An excellent piece of noise rock that sounds at least 10 years ahead of its time. Check it out.

Even More Reviews From RateYourMusic (#4)

Frank Zappa - Whiskey A Go Go 1968

This new release of a full length MOI concert from mid 1968 is one I eagerly awaited (very few full concert recordings exist from this period, and fewer still in acceptable quality), and I thoroughly enjoyed once it had dropped. There are a number of things that make this release kind of special:

One thing I noted quite quickly was that the three sets that make up this release have a surprisingly loose feeling compared to a lot of Frank Zappa's live recordings. I wouldn't go so far as to call it "casual" as the musicians are still playing their socks off throughout, but it doesn't feel as tightly controlled like a lot of his concert albums are. Perhaps that's why it ended up not releasing it in Zappa's lifetime. Honestly I like the different atmosphere, there's a bit of a jam band feel to it, especially in the longer improvised sections.

Another thing I found interesting was that it seems to have had a somewhat atypical setlist for the period, likely because it was being taped. There's the songs you'd expect like King Kong, but then there's one-offs as well like Brown Shoes Don't Make It (apparently the very first time it was performed live), Khaki Sacks and the '63 Penguins single Memories Of El Monte which Zappa co-wrote. The only flaw in the setlist is there's nothing from We're Only in It for the Money or Cruising With Ruben & The Jets, which is a little odd seeing as both had been recorded by this point. That isn't a demerit though, because what is here is excellent.

And of course, the presence of Ray Collins is nice to see, seeing as almost no live recordings exist from when he was in the group. He had a great voice on the MOI records he appeared on, and getting a decent look at how he performed with the group on stage is great.

Overall, I'm really happy this show has finally seen the light of day. I remember reading about it on a list of unreleased Zappa projects a long time ago and always wondered what it sounded like. It might be up there as one of the all time best ZFT Vault releases.

Silent Scream - 1981 Demo

"This is the 2nd 'Demo' recorded by Silent Scream..."

There are a lot of bands like Silent Scream. Groups that had a great sound and some great songs, but never got the chance to develop these on a proper studio album, relegating them to exclusively demo cassettes and self-released EP. This tape is no exception.

Details on Silent Scream (no relation to any of the OTHER bands with that name) are scarce, but comments from the group's drummer on YouTube have helped to piece together their story. Formed in 1980, they were an early-period Gothic Rock band from Newcastle in the UK, apparently with a big visual element in their live act. That same year they recorded their first demo, but it has never surfaced on the internet so whatever it sounds like is anyone's guess. It was their second demo from October 1981, however, which managed to find its way online in the early 2010s, capturing people's attention with the quality of the songs found within.

As this is a low budget demo recording (albiet recorded in a studio, specifically Guardian Studios in Durham, England), it is very no-frills, save for a bit of stereo panning on the vocals and guitar effects being present. There are three songs, all of them just over four minutes long, and they're surprisingly solid. The moody, brooding atmosphere you would associate with Gothic Rock is very much present and the instruments are all played solidly, with the guitar work being especially stellar. The track Drown is notable for its rather nihilistic lyrical themes, made more notable due to the lyricist supposedly committed suicide a few years after it was written.

You could very much see a professionally recorded album by this band being right at home alongside other acts from the same period such as Bauhaus. Sadly Silent Scream would end up remaining unsigned and would part ways not long after recording this demo. The band members supposedly remained active in music, but apparently nothing of much note after this.

Even after the demo resurfaced online, things didn't go to plan. According to the drummer on YouTube, two different attempts to rerelease the EP during the 2010s ended in disaster. Famed indie label Sacred Bones supposedly assisted in remastering the original reel-to-reel tape of the demo, but after the deal fell through they refused to give the tape back to the band. Then some time later a 10" vinyl release was planned on the small label Evil Has Landed, but they eventually ghosted the band and never returned the photos and archival material they had been sent.

Luckily, one saving grace is the tape eventually found its way onto Bandcamp, most likely derived from the aborted Sacred Bones remaster due to its improved sound over the YouTube uploads dubbed from the cassette, so anyone who would likely to can drop a few pounds and listen to what could have been.

Bull Of Heaven - 299: Self Traitor, I Do Bring The Spider Love

But does the spider love the self-traitor also?

In a recent interview, Neil Keener (half of Bull Of Heaven and its only surviving member) mentioned that 299: Self-Traitor, I Do Bring the Spider Love and a few other releases from the same timeframe were the result of several jam sessions between him and some musicians who frequented a coffee shop he worked at, taped on a consumer grade TASCAM recorder and then handed off to the late Clayton Counts to mess with, edit together, and turn into a full release.

With that in mind, 299 is a testement not just to the synergy of the musicians on the record, but also Counts' ability to take several days of apparently aimless jam sessions and turn them into a single flowing track with studio quality sound (albeit a very raw mix).

Some might say the human element is antithetical to the nature of Bull Of Heaven's highly experimental and (usually) drone influenced sound, but I believe it instead bolsters what they were truly going for: a creatively unconfined project that dabbles in whatever those involved felt like exploring. Whether it be Power Electronics, Drone, Doom Metal, or in this case, Space Rock.

And it's surely a great example of the latter, designed to emulate the spontaneity and groove of numerous '70s fusion records. Even in its 84 minute runtime (which is funnily enough one of the shorter tracks in their oeuvre), there's little to get bored about as it very rarely repeats itself, and it even introduces a few new elements over its duration. I'm not sure where they got the painting of what I believe is Concorde, but it compliments the sound well.

Highly recommended even for those who are not especially big fans of Bull Of Heaven.

My Memories Of Record Store Day 2022

 (Another essay I wrote for a University assignment around 2022, this time around my first time attending Record Store Day that year. I thought it was quite funny so worth sharing here. I have, however, edited out direct references to my home town for privacy reasons. Otherwise, it is presented as is.)

Record Store Day. The current golden goose of the vinyl industry. For one day a year (or occasionally two), the LP heads come out in droves to collect whichever album takes their fancy. The record labels capitulate, of course, and capitalise on the occasion with a selection of limited-edition album pressings, often pressed onto coloured vinyl or of a record that not been available on vinyl for a long time, or at all. As one would expect, this just intensifies the fervour to get to the nearest record store as early as possible to make sure you don’t have to go home empty handed.

Indeed, ever since the inception of the musical holiday in 2007, the demand has only gotten higher, and in turn the desperation to not be left in the dust has gotten more intense. You must be there first in line, or you risk having to settle for other than what you wanted. Some have criticised this approach as boiling down the love of vinyl to a consumerist fault, valuing the acquisition of the best products for sometimes substantial amounts of cash (especially second hand, with scalpers being another factor to the rush to get the record you want on the day). Others still have expressed frustration with what was originally a day to celebrate and empower independent record labels getting overrun with major players like Universal or BMG, pushing the smaller players out of the running.

At the end of the day though, I see it as a fun novelty that, although hectic, is certainly memorable to take part in. Since I have recently come into my own as a vinyl collector, especially in the last couple of years, I especially was interested in taking part when it next came my way. Plus, 2022 would be the first Record Store Day since the pandemic had begun to not be held remotely, so it was something of a return to form.

What one might consider a warmup round to this was in 2021 when I attended an event that HMV was doing for its 100th birthday, which included new pressings of some classic records. Sadly though, despite arriving at around 6am and getting to the local store a little while later, I was still too late and all the copies of the record I was after (a repressing of The Stone Roses’ debut, for the record) had been reserved. As luck would have it, I was able to grab a copy when the online listings went up, but I knew a different approach was necessary to not get left in the dust the next time around.

For this event, I ended up choosing to go to the local music shop I was frequenting often in recent months and got most of my vinyl purchases from. In fact, I was taken off guard when I walked in that April and saw a sign advertising Record Store Day for the very next day. I had known it was coming up, but somehow it had crept up on me something fierce.

Right away, once I got home, I began to scheme my approach. I looked through the online list of records that would be available on the day, and after some mulling I eventually decided on a reprint of Rick Astley’s seminal 1987 record Whenever You Need Somebody, pressed on Red Vinyl. I figured that considering the decent infamy surrounding the album (both due to its popularity upon release and the infamous RickRoll trend in the late 2000s), that it would be a particularly desirable item that would sell out quickly. An estimated 1,800 copies being available only deepened this perception. If I wanted this record, I would have to get there especially early.

Some other records caught my eye, such as a repress of some of Lou Reed’s earliest solo demos, and an album of Blur remixes, but I ultimately passed on those so as not to strain my wallet so much. I found out later that Taylor Swift had released an extremely limited new single for the occasion, which ended up being possibly the most desired record out of that year’s line-up. As to be expected, it would go on to sell out quickly, and just less than a week after the fact, second hand copies have already inflated in value to over seventy pounds.

I did not end up sleeping that night, largely because I did not want to risk sleeping through my early alarm and getting there too late. Instead, I bided my time until I decided it was late enough that I could head out (around 5am) and I ordered a taxi from my student accommodation to nearby the music shop. From there, I could play the waiting game.

I arrived at the shop at around 5:36am, early to be up but apparently not early enough. I knew I would not be the first there but had only been anticipating around a small handful of hardcore vinyl collectors outside the shop. Instead, a decent line had already formed, and I had to sprint the rest of the way when I was dropped off to make sure someone didn’t walk up and leave me further back in the line.

A bit of a newcomer mistake, it would seem, but it turned out that I had not picked a bad position to arrive at. Not at the front, but still close enough that I could expect to receive my record of choice without too many problems. 

Since this was my first Record Store Day, I had no idea how many people would show up, and I was surprised as time went on and the line that formed behind me became much longer than the line I had joined. Clearly it was a more popular occasion than I had anticipated. Perhaps the pandemic had people pining for an event such as this.

It wasn’t until later that I got a proper idea of how many people had actually lined up outside the record shop that morning, but I knew it had to be a lot as the line had snaked around a corner and out of sight. A few days afterwards I asked someone working there if they had any idea how many people had attended, and they told me that an estimated 80 people had shown up to the opening event that morning, but the amount of people buying Record Store Day products in person in the following hours and days numbered somewhere around 540. Evidently it was an especially busy Record Store Day this year, and in hindsight I ended up being lucky at being so early in line.

The 3 hours I waited outside were killing time until the shop opened, along with occasionally checking the store’s Twitter page to make sure the vinyl I was after didn’t sell out. At around 7am, some people at a café next door started taking breakfast orders for people in the queue, and I got some crumpets while I waited. Not long later, some employees came out and started handing out lists of their inventory for people to fill out with the records they wanted. These sheets were noted and revealed that I was 17th in line that morning. Definitely preferable to 80th.

To cut a long story short, I filled in my sheet as required and at 8am people started to be let into the shop to collect their records (though it was staggered in such a way that it took another 45 minutes until I got inside). Sadly, I wasn’t quite early enough to get a bonus tote bag with my order that was given away to some early customers, but I wasn’t really upset about that, for as long as I got my Rick Astley LP, I would be happy.

Sure enough, after getting inside and having a look around the normal stock the store had on offer, I was let down into the basement, where the exclusive records were being kept. I didn’t have to wait long down there, for soon my order had come up, and the LP I was hoping for was still available. And so, for 24.99 I walked back out an incredibly happy customer. The decent audio quality of the pressing once I got a chance to put it on my turntable only served to make me even happier.

In conclusion, it was a hectic but fruitful morning that I am thoroughly glad to have participated in. Not just for my own benefit, but also for the feeling of community that it bought about. Vinyl collectors from all walks of life coming together to celebrate their passion. In my mind that makes it all worth it, to allow for what was once a fledgling community to grow and reach its former popularity.

The vinyl is rather good too, of course.

How To Review Music: My Opinions On Music Journalism

 (A short essay I wrote around 2022 for a University assignment on what it means to be a music journalist. I read it through recently and think it's of acceptable quality and relavent enough to this blog to post.)

Album reviews have for many years been the bread and butter of music journalism. Although you will just as often see opinion pieces and retrospective articles being written about numerous bands both active and defunct, along with an interview if you’re lucky, it’s most likely that when the average person hears “music journalist”, the picture that comes to mind is listening to a new album and releasing their opinion in print to the general public.

Of course, there is a lot more to it than that, and it takes more than simply spilling your thoughts on a record onto paper, even if you are a respected critic.

In terms of an album review, in order to produce as fair and objective a review as possible, a reviewer would need to approach it from an unbiased mindset. Even if that reviewer personally preferred a certain genre of music and did not usually listen to whichever genre the album is a part of, they would need to put this preference aside and judge the record on its own merits, and not compared to what they might consider to be “better”.

As well as this, context about the record and its background is important as well. A record may not be well produced or performed technically, but in some cases this can either be intentional on the part of the artist or end up adding to the charm of the record. Knowing the circumstances that led up to the creation of the record (such as the sound of previous records and any personal events the musicians went through) can put certain aspects that may at first be questionable into perspective.

Subtext is important as well, especially with any hidden meanings the artist may have imparted in the sound or lyrics. A record can be an incredibly polished piece with impressive performances, but it can end up not holding up if there is nothing behind those performances. Of course, lyrics do not always need to have an important allegorical meaning, but it can help.

And finally, and perhaps most importantly, a reviewer must make clear that their word is not law, and what they write is ultimately their opinion. While this may feel like a cop out to an outside observer, it is actually quite vital that a reviewer not put their opinion up on a pedestal too much because, in the end, reviewers aren’t always right. 

There are many instances historically of critics giving mixed or even negative reviews to albums that would become classics today (As an example, Lester Bangs savaged the MC5’s Kick Out The Jams when it was released in 1969, which grew to be considered a pivotal proto-punk record). Of course, context is important and can change with hindsight, but even in the moment a critic can end up going against the generally accepted curve and end up upsetting people who disagree with their opinion. Thus, it’s important to make clear that it’s all ultimately their takeaway from the record, and the audience is free to draw their own conclusions.

University Music Reviews 2020-23

Note: The following reviews were written as exercises during my time studying Music Journalism at University, getting my degree. I do have a feeling that I might have missed some, as my archive of exercises I did for the course is pretty cluttered, but these are the ones that I have been able to find, dug up and provided for posterity.

Crazy Backwards Alphabet - Self Titled

It’s pretty clear that everything that Matt Groening was involved in other than his TV Shows like The Simpsons has been horribly overshadowed, to the point where a lot of people don’t even know he’s done anything else. Which is a shame because his comic strip Life In Hell, which was a cult icon in 1980s California, is pretty damn underrated. And being fairly well known in the area meant he was able to get some fairly well known friends, such as future Simpsons coworkers Harry Shearer and James L. Brooks, as well as the influential innovative musician and composer Frank Zappa, who Groening was a massive fan of, and was in fact the next door neighbor of in the final years of Zappa’s life. And it seems as though this influence, combined with a friendship with experimental guitarist Henry Kaiser, is what led to the production of the 1987 album Crazy Backwards Alphabet.

It should be noted that although he’s credited with conceptualizing the album and contributing the artwork (featuring the same sort of style he’d been previously showcasing with Life In Hell), Groening does not actually play on the record. Instead the band responsible of it is a supergroup of several artists, including Dixie Dreggs bassist Andy West, Swedish avant-garde drummer Michael Maksymenko, and former Magic Band drummer John French. And it’s perhaps French’s Captain Beefheart roots that is the biggest musical and technical influence on this record. Groening himself had been heavily influenced by Beefheart’s 1969 record Trout Mask Replica; according to him he initially hated how chaotic and experimental it was, initially believing it to be the result of poor performances, at least until “About the third time, I realised they were doing it on purpose; they meant it to sound exactly this way.”

And Beefheart’s rather infamous sound and way with music is all over this record. The performances and compositions on display on Crazy Backwards Alphabet are often off kilter and more than once downright discordant, with the drum, rhythm and guitar tracks often clashing and having little relevance to each other, but not quite enough to be unlistenable or grating. Which era of Captain Beefheart’s career depends on the track, since the format often fluctuates. At points it sounds similar in execution to Trout Mask Replica, whilst other tracks like “The Blood & The Ink” are perhaps closer in sound to Van Vliet’s more grounded and traditionally bluesy records such as The Spotlight Kid.

Overall, Crazy Backwards Alphabet is a good place to go for people either researching into the scene that The Simpsons first came out of, or people who have just gone through Captain Beefheart’s work and are looking for something equally experimental and yet enjoyable.

A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory

There is no doubt to be had that A Tribe Called Quest is one of the most influential/quintessential Hip-Hop groups of the late 80s and early 90s. Right up there with groups like Public Enemy, De La Soul, and solo rappers like LL Cool J, they bought about major innovations in what Hip Hop could sound like, often blurring the lines with sampling and the use of proper original instrumentation. Although the argument of which is their finest record is up for hot debate (Midnight Marauders is often mentioned) their 1991 sophomore release The Low End Theory is what I consider to be their finest hour.

The album was a direct departure from the sound laid out on their debut album, People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm. Where the debut had perhaps more complex instrumental structures and segments, The Low End Theory was much more minimalist and straightforward, also stepping up the group’s Jazz influences to include a proper specially recorded double bass played by Jazz musician Ron Carter. The general direction that the band has taken on their debut, itself a move away from the dangerous image that Hip-Hop had begun to cultivate for itself, was continued here, with a lot of the lyrics featuring in-jokes, humour, and just a dash of social commentary.

Not only that, but the interactions between the different members is heightened tenfold on The Low End Theory, making it a largely unified work. Rapper Phife Dawg, who’d only sporadically appeared on People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm due to preferring to hang out with his friends, sought to be much more involved with the group’s recorded projects after it was discovered he was Diabetic. As such, he steps up his game much more, with him and fellow Rapper/producer Q-Tip often exchanging verses in response to each other during numbers, most notably on the single “Check The Rhime”. Speaking of, those numbers are some of the most well produced and feature some of the best flows the group would ever do, with the seamless performances on “Buggin’ Out” and the finale “Scenario”, which featured a cameo from fellow Hip-Hop group Leaders Of The New School, who were a member of the same collective as Tribe, Native Tongues. These tracks show the band at their finest, witty, harmonious, and fully willing to take some risks in order to make some good music.

Satya Sai Maitreya Kali – Apache / Inca

The story of Craig Smith is probably one of the most tragic stories of the 1960s music scene. Having initially been popular on the Andy Williams Show, and exhibiting talent and charisma as part of the late 60s psych rock unit Penny Arkade, a mixture of a lack of success, massive drug abuse, hallucinations, and being beaten, robbed and left in a mental asylum in Afghanistan whilst on the hippie trail, left him with acute messianic delusions, and he began to call himself Maitreya Kali. He believed he was to be the ruler of Earth, and that he was a reincarnation of numerous leaders and religious icons. These delusions only intensified over time, grew violent on multiple occasions, and got him institutionalized for a period of years in the 70s. He spent the remainder of his life homeless after being released for good in the 80s, eventually dying on the streets in 2012. Truly an awful fate for someone who was originally a talented and funny musician.

But, on his sole album Apache/Inca (originally 2 albums that were eventually combined into a single double experience), for a moment one may not be able to realize just how deluded he was. The music on this album, recorded over the course of around 5 years, self-released in 1972, and distributed by hand on the streets of Los Angeles, is not the discordance you might expect for someone in a damaged state of mind, but rather the careful, beautiful acoustic sounds of someone who perhaps knew he was losing his grip on reality, and couldn’t control it.

The best material on the album is from the 68 sessions with the Penny Arkade band. These songs are fully formed and backed with proper accompanying instruments by the other band members, which helps to illustrate just how talented a songwriter Smith was at his prime. The solo folk-ish numbers that dominate the album are also interesting listens, as the melodies are addictive and well crafted, and Smith/Kali’s vocals are genuine and still capable off carrying a tune. Tracks like “San Pan Boat” and “Old Man” are especially beautiful.

On a few numbers, like the considerably more ramshackle “Revelation”, and with some of the between-track dialogue, one can hear his delusions beginning to bleed through, perhaps suggesting that he wasn’t able to keep himself together to make music for much longer, especially when one takes the album artwork into account. But even so, if this were Smith/Kali’s ultimate statement to the world, it’s both sane and insane enough to captivate the average listener.

Marianne Faithfull – Broken English

If there’s one thing that seems to particularly capture the imaginations of the public when it comes to music, it is the comeback record. A singular musical statement that can transform an artist from one the consumers and critics had written off, to finally being able to prove just what they’re capable of and making sure everyone knows it. And as such, the more tragic the fall from grace that precedes it, the more triumphant the eventual comeback statement shall be. Such is the case with Marianne Faithfull’s 1979 album Broken English.

To say the leadup to this record was rough for Marianne would probably be an understatement. Following her already tumultuous relationship with Mick Jagger falling apart, and her fledgling musical career following suit by the turn of the 60s, she was soon in freefall. The following years were marred by a lack of musical output, extended periods of homelessness and living on the streets of Soho, losing custody of her child, and at one point an attempt at suicide. With such a severe fall from grace, those who remembered her time singing songs such as “As Tears Go By” would be forgiven for being concerned that a return to form might not be on the cards for her.

However, that soon changed upon the arrival of Punk Rock in 1977, and Marianne soon came into contact with many talented figures in the scene, which inspired her to take her music in a similar direction. The resulting demos quickly caught the attention of Island Records, who agreed to finance recording sessions with her and her backing band. And from these sessions arose what would become Broken English.

Despite Marianne explaining Punk Rock’s influence on the record, Broken English has much more in common with the quickly developing New Wave style that was gaining traction by that point, on account with the prominent use of early synthesisers on several tracks. By some accounts these synth lines had been overdubbed on without Marianne’s direct input, but it ends up creating a cold and yet powerful atmosphere that compliments the mood in Marianne’s lyrics and the delivery of her singing.

Speaking of Marianne’s singing, her voice is also much changed from her initial fame in the 60s. Many years of laryngitis and drug abuse had left her voice a lower and raspier tone. Perhaps not as suited for folk and pop anymore, but for the energy of this record, it works perfectly, feeling like she has come out of her previous tailspin scarred but still together.

And then there’s the songs themselves. The record features a mixture of cover & original songs, and all of then Marianne pulls off tremendously. The cover tracks in particular showcase a lot of the scope that Marianne was still able to show with her work, with tracks including Shel Silverstein’s The Ballad of Lucy Jordan and John Lennon’s Working Class Hero. The latter in particular suits her especially well since, despite her more middle-class background and upbringing, her situation in the leadup to this record, including issues with depression and homelessness, and being rather unpopular in the public eye due to her romance with Mick Jagger, she had been through the wars, and so could be considered just as valid to discuss the idea of the plight of the working class as anyone else.

But it’s the original tracks on the record, both provided by Marianne herself and a selection of collaborators, that allow her to truly show what she is capable of after her substantial hiatus. The title track, for instance, features lyrics about personal loss and loneliness, as well as references to the then ongoing cold war. The conclusion can be drawn to connections between these lyrics and Marianne’s past experiences, perhaps with an overall feeling of helplessness in regards to the conflict in the world. The Side A closer “Guilt” has similar parallels, with lyrics about infidelity and feelings of unwarranted regret that seem almost autobiographical.

The album closer “Why’d Ya Do It” is the most explicit in its brutal lyrical delivery about infidelity, and it is outright graphic in the details, contrasting hard with the comparably clean lyrics on the rest of the record. It even got the record banned in some parts of the world. If there were a song on the record with an attitude one could equate to being “punk”, this would be the best candidate by far.

Broken English is undoubtably a stark record, allowing Faithfull to prove that she still had the ability to shock people with her music. It’s also something of an outlier in her discography, as her following 80s output was perhaps less scathing in delivery. Certainly, she would retain control over her artistic direction from then on out, but she would never release another album quite like Broken English.

Blur At Wembley: They Still Got It [CONCERT REVIEW]

 (Note: This is a piece I wrote in July 2023 for intended publication on an indie website following my attendance of the aformentioned concert. It never ended up coming through, and the piece has sat unreleased for a while. I was just reminded of its existance so decided to dust it off and post it here for posterity.)

For over 30 years now, Blur has been sending out music, and it seems that even now they haven’t lost their edge, if the single “The Narcissist” from their upcoming 9th album The Ballard Of Darren is any indication. Even if those bursts of creativity have been growing steadily infrequent since their heyday in the 90s, it seems they’re not out of the woods yet.

One of the band’s biggest strengths has also always been their live act. Damon Albarn has always had a talent for captivating an audience, and with the likes of Graham Coxon, Alex James and Dave Rowntree backing him up, it can make for a great evening. They’ve performed at some of the most prestigious venues the world over, but one they had not yet graced was London’s own Wembley Stadium. They had played at the original stadium, which was demolished in 2003 to make way for an updated venue, but they’ve never returned to grace the new and improved iteration until now.

That all changed in November 2022 when they announced a 2-day set of gigs there on the weekend of the 8th-9th of July, to ring in a brand new reunion for the group after their last tour in 2016 in support of The Magic Whip. Additional dates were soon added to the roster, and eventually a whole new album to go along with it, but the Wembley shows were by far the most hotly anticipated as the group’s grand return. This was both to the world of music as a whole after a period of inactivity, but also to be able to add another venue to their vast list of appearances.

Naturally, the tickets sold out extremely fast after the announcement had been made, and soon the day of the first show on the 8th had arrived. Even before the doors had opened to fans at 5pm, people were already congregating outside of the stadium, picking up T-shirts and other merch, ready to see the band.

Before Blur could perform, however, the warmup acts were given the spotlight first. First up was Jockstrap, the Electropop duo consisting of Georgia Ellery and Taylor Skye. Having released their debut album last year, their short set showcased Ellery’s vocals and acoustic guitar backed and often digitally manipulated with Skye’s elaborate electronic production. Following that were Sleaford Mods, featuring vocalist Jason Williamson and Andrew Fearn. Against Fearn’s minimalist electronic backup, Williamson delivered an intense and abrasive vocal performance that dabbled in elements of spoken word and rap. Finally came Self Esteem, the stage name of former Slow Club alumni Rebecca Lucy Taylor, who appeared backed by an elaborate live band to deliver a solid set of pop music.

At last, at 8:35PM, Blur arrived on stage to the song “The Debt Collector” from Parklife, and for the next two hours the stadium was theirs. Damon, Graham, Alex and Dave took their places and kicked off their set with their latest single “St. Charles Square” from their upcoming album, followed by a curated selection of songs from across their discography. These ranged from their earliest years (1991’s “There’s No Other Way”) to more recent offerings (2012’s “Under The Westway” and recent single “The Narcissist”)

Naturally, the band bought out the big hits that their fans expected, like their breakout US hit “Song 2”, and their landmark 1994 masterwork “Parklife”. Compounding the excitement was the appearance of Phil Daniels from a prop house partway through the set, the original singer from the studio recording of “Parklife” to lead through the track live.

This was not just a “greatest hits” type show, either. A fan of the band would be forgiven for just expecting the band’s singles to be played, but they instead augmented their big hits with a selection of album tracks and obscurer offerings. Deep cuts like “Tracy Jacks” and “Trimm Trabb”, which have endured as live staples, continued to find a home at Wembley. A couple songs were even dusted off for the first time in years, with “Lot 105” leading off the encore for the first time since 1994, and “Under The Westway” reappearing after being unplayed since 2014.

That being said, there were also a few omissions from the set that, while not bringing down the overall quality, may have been noticed by fans who had been expecting them. The group’s 1999 single “No Distance Left To Run”, which has been regularly performed live since, was not present, being perhaps their most popular track not to be played. Slightly odder was the complete absence of any material from their previous album, 2015’s The Magic Whip, being the only Blur album to go completely unrepresented in the setlist. Additional live show mainstays such as “Sing” and “Young & Lovely” were also absent, likely due to time.

Even if people had been hoping to hear these songs, though, they very likely were not too upset as the band easily proved their worth throughout the 25 songs played that evening. Graham Coxon gave as great a performance on guitar as he had in his prime, with Alex James keeping up the pace on bass and Dave Rowntree delivering on the drums, despite fears that a recent knee injury that had cancelled a festival appearance could cause issues. Damon Albarn was as powerful a stage presence as ever, engaging with the crowd and keeping the energy going right to the end of the final encore with “The Universal.”

What this Wembley performance proves without much doubt is that, even after three decades, Blur still has something to deliver to the world. With a new album around the corner and a passionate fanbase still around to support them, it may not yet be time to send the band to the nostalgia circuit quite yet.

Yet More RateYourMusic Reviews (#3)

To keep the momentum of posting to this blog going a little bit longer, here's a few more short reviews I've written for RateYourMusic over the last couple of years. They're perhaps not as detailed as the previous ones, but IMO they warrant a mention.

Chumbawamba - Uneasy Listening (1998)

 

Although Tubthumper is the big famous album from Chumbawamba's time on EMI, they actually got the chance to release 3 albums on the label before being dropped in 2001 (as well as a few singles and promo releases). This is the second one, and is basically a collection of the group's best early indie songs before their proverbial rise to stardom.

Seeing as finding copies of their albums on Agit-Pop and One Little Indian couldn't have been super easy even in '98, Uneasy Listening is a good way to get an overview of this period of the band's history. A good chunk of their most notable early songs are here, like Timebomb, Behave, UGH! Your Ugly Houses! and many others. There's also some deep cuts, non-album tracks and unreleased rarities thrown in for good measure.

That being said, there are a few omissions that are slightly glaring. The singles "Never Gave Up" and "Homophobia" are not included, which is a shame as I consider both to be some of the band's best work, and their inclusion over something like "On Being Pushed" would have elevated the collection further.

Even so, this is still a fine compilation of the band's work (as well as the ONLY such compilation they ever came out with). It's not especially easy to come by, but alongside the other two entries in what I call their "EMI Trilogy", this is worth picking up, especially if you're trying to get into the band.

Jamie Lenman - Muscle Memory (2013)

 

A curious double album, and not like many others i've ever seen before. Disc 1 is comprised of a hardcore thrash sound, not too dissimilar to Jamie Lenman's prior work with Reuben, but much more ferocious, especially with the vocals. It's a very angry 40 minute selection of music, but it's varied enough that it's not a slog to get through, and much recommended for fans of the album. Fizzy Blood and A Terrible Feeling especially are highlights.

Disc 2 is a complete departure, pivoting to folk and big band infused music alongside a more melodic songwriting theme. Surprisingly the whiplash doesn't work against it, and it comes together for a genuinely interesting listening experience in its own right. Highlights from this disc include I Ain't Your Boy, If You Have to Ask You'll Never Know and the lead single Pretty Please.

If you grab this album, make sure it's the 2023 vinyl reissue. The whole album got remixed to improve the sound and help it all sound more cohesive as a single unit. Plus, it comes with a bonus disc of outtakes and live tracks from both the hardcore and folk sides, perfect for those looking for more of the same.

Oasis - Gas Panic! (2000)

 

This is Oasis' best song.

I know, with the previous three albums worth of material to consider, that's a big claim, but I'm dead serious.

Largely a biographical piece about Noel's struggles with substance abuse, Gas Panic! is a very slow burning track, steadily building itself until exploding into life on the second verse. The moody atmosphere compliments the lyrics perfectly, and the longer song length is more than earned in comparison to a track like All Around The World, as it really does need that extra room to breathe. No filler to be found here.

Plus, this is a song where basically every circulating version is great in its own way. The album version has a great vocal take from Liam, as well as some stellar guitar solos. A demo that appeared on some promo CDs around the time has Noel sing on it, and his presence has its own charms that add to the slightly stripped back arrangement. And the live version on Familiar To Millions has to be heard to be believed, boasting a ferocious performance and an extended jam-based outro that should have made the song a regular to their setlist just on its own. "It's a good fuckin' tune this, cmon!" indeed.

This should have been a single. Check it out.

Oasis - Falling Down (2009)

Call it a controversial opinion, but I feel Oasis' experiments with psychedelic rock is some of their most interesting material, if only because if proved they could f*ck with the formula once in a while. Who Feels Love and Gas Panic! off Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants are some of their most unique songs as a result, but a general public rejection of that direction led to the band trying to rehash their old "rockier" style to diminishing returns.

Falling Down feels like an attempt to rekindle that experimental side of the band, especially as Dig Out Your Soul as an album stands out much more than their other 2000s records. It has an almost ethereal quality to it, and Noel's vocals only add to that in a way that Liam's certainly would have spoiled had he sung on it. Prior single The Shock Of The Lightning is also really good, and I like it almost as much, but this edges it out on account of there being almost no other Oasis song quite like it.

As far as final singles go, this is probably one of the best ways for a band to dissolve, by releasing a song that's widely considered on par with their prime material, and it's one that I hope gets more appreciation over time. The appearance as the title theme in Eden Of The East is an added bonus.

Scatman John - Scatman's World (1995)

 

The vast majority of 90s eurodance was made up of faceless studio creations designed without an identity and usually under some zany pseudonym. As such, the scene is almost completely devoid of any real recognisable figures, one of the few of which people could name from memory most likely being John Larkin, AKA Scatman John.

Larkin began his career as a jazz pianist, appearing on a Sam Phillips record in the 80s and even getting an album of such music released under his own name, which is genuinely good in it's own right. Having suffered from a lifelong stutter, he eventually used it to his advantage through Scat singing, which became a part of his performance. A European producer around 1994 got the idea to build a dance track around it, and the rest is history.

Going off the singles from this record, such as the titular "Scatman" track that made him famous, or the slightly later title track, one might write off Larkin's stab at the dance scene as a tacky novelty, but he manages to make it work both with solid songwriting and palpable enthusiasm. This isn't a record done for money or contractual obligation, this is a record by a man who sounds overjoyed to be there and wants everyone to know it. It's not just a case of the singles being noteworthy either, as there are numerous album tracks that also rise to the same standards, such as "Only You" or my favourite "Take Your Time". The subject matter is no slouch either, discussing his vision of a world without strife, and how he wants us to reach such a world. Cheesy as hell? Sure, but the songs are still good enough that they manage to shine through regardless.

And it paid off big time. After a career or relative obscurity Larkin's new direction was an immense success, most of all in Japan where he ranks as one of the best selling foreign artists. Sadly he didn't get to enjoy it for very long, only releasing two more albums of more moderate success before passing away of cancer in December 1999.

In short, this is one of the few albums of the 90s Eurodance craze that feels like it still stands on its own today, and hasn't collapsed under the obnoxiousness and poorly aged production so often prevalent to the genre (see Eiffel 65 or Aqua for such examples). The enthusiasm is as genuine as it gets, not feeling synthetic like its peers, and its impossible to hate how Larkin was able to turn a lifelong struggle into his greatest gift.

Recommended.

The Velvet Underground - Squeeze (1973)

 

Alright, I'm gonna level with you. This album to me really isn't that bad. With slightly better production and credited to Doug Yule directly which was quite likely intended during recording, it'd probably be recieved more amicably, if nothing more than as an interesting curio.

The songs themselves are admittedly hit and miss, with some definitely falling into the pit of mediocre 1970s power pop that was big in 73 (tracks like Mean Old Man and Jack & Jane, although not terrible, are mostly uninteresting affairs, and I've never liked Crash all that much). Others are much better, and deserve better than the perception often sent their way. In particular are the opening and closing tracks "Little Jack" and "Louise", which I genuinely think would fit well in Loaded era VU. The latter especially is probably the best track here.

I also don't buy the notion that Doug Yule had no buisness being in this position. Sure, he wasn't a founding member, but he featured on a full half of the band's "canon" albums, and proved himself to be a capable singer-songwriter, so he certainly had a right to be in the band if nothing else.

The loss of Lou Reed is sorely felt for sure, but Yule nonetheless showed bother here and elsewhere that he could deliver a fine track or two on his own. If he'd been able to have his 1971 live lineup backing him (which included Maureen Tucker), then I genuinely think things would've come out better. Alas, their manager dismissed them all in hopes just having to deal with Yule would mean an easier cash cow. It was apparently him who pulled strings and had the record credited to the Velvet Underground to boost sales.

Squeeze is by no means a record to stand up to the heights of their previous albums, but there are bits and pieces here to suggest that all was not necessrily lost, and it's genuinely better than its reputation suggests. I reckon it deserves a proper reissue and remaster, maybe with that 1971 Amsterdam soundboard as a bonus disc, so it can finally add extra context to the final days of this legendary group.

The Pogues - A Pair of Brown Eyes / Whiskey You're the Devil (1985)

 

When I was growing up I was exposed to a lot of music that my parents listened to, whether stuff they themselves had been shown growing up, or stuff that they discovered as adults. This is likely what was instrumental in developing my deep rooted love for music.

Of course, there was a lot of music that they played. Graceland by Paul Simon, Vampire Weekend, Nirvana, among many others. And one of them that I do remember is The Pogues.

Although I've very likely heard more, there are two Pogues songs that I can remember off the top of my head: Fairytale of New York / The Battle March Medley, quite a jaunty number I must admit, and this song, A Pair Of Brown Eyes, which has stuck with me much longer for reasons I couldn't begin to guess. When I hear this song, I am reminded of home.

The song, as I understand it, is about a man who is drowning himself in booze at a pub after the love of his life left him, and an older man comes up to him going on about how he doesn't know nuthin' about hardship. He then weaves a tale about how in the horrors of the wars he served, and lying among the dead and injured, he saw the brown eyes of a fellow soldier. And when he returned home after the war, there were no brown eyes waiting for him. The younger man brushes him off as a drunk annoyance, but as he wanders home it seems as though he recognises parallels between their two experiences, as his own lover had brown eyes.

The song is great at weaving a scenario for the listener to put together in their head, and the scene put forward is great, but when I was younger I interpreted a slightly different meaning, which I would like to put down here.

In my interpretation, the story again takes place in a pub, but both the narrator and the other patrons have gotten so drunk that it's devolved into them basically collapsing into a giant pile of intoxicated drunks on the floor of the bar. And from this mass of barely-alive patrons, the main character sees a pair of brown eyes staring back at him. I always imagined the eyes belonging to that of a man.

But when the drunks are finally shoved out of the pub around closing time and everyone tries to head home, the protagonist cannot find whoever the brown eyes belonged too, and so resolves to set out on what in his mind is an epic quest, to find this person, for they felt a deep connection being made in those brief moments.

Of course, this is just my interpretation, but it's one I feel a sort of comfort with, though I couldn't tell you why as I do not drink myself. In any case, the song has always stood out to me as I've grown into the man I am now, and I hope that it shall remain there as I continue going through life.