Rock

At the new year, thoughts and spare time for writing point me toward writing some new posts for my understated classics series. Expect some new ones soon.

Today I listened to 'Cloudbusting' by Kate Bush for the first time in a while. What a gloriously strange song it is. Best of all, it's one of those songs that obscures what it is really about. It's not a song about a change in the weather, but about [Wilhelm Reich][1], the [orgone][2] accumulator, [fluorescent yo-yos][3], and a son (rather than a sun) coming out.

Perhaps in today's modern age of streaming and such, The Coral would be a bigger band and may have survived their eventual burnout. Their work ethic was evident from the start, as rumours swirled in the NME about a fantastic new band from Liverpool who were going to blow everybody's socks off. I went to see them live in Bristol after they'd released three EPs and they were incredible. Their sound, a bit like the movie "Holy Mountain" set to pop music, imagined a Merseybeat channelled from an alternative universe in which Lennon and McCartney took their acid in the Mojave desert rather than in the English suburbs. Yes, it was derivative but somehow it also managed to be utterly new and compelling.

The next instalment in my understated classics series is "Stray" by Aztec Camera. Released in 1990, it features two hit singles and the cover is my favourite colour: green.

I listened to Let It Come Down by Spiritualized for the first time during a difficult time in my life. I think this will always affect my feelings towards it. For me it's a great big comfort blanket of a record. Coming after one of the all-time best break-up albums (in an artistic sense) in "Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space" perhaps it's not that much of a surprise. Layered in orchestras, horn sections, and gospel choirs, it's not understated at all but hopefully I can persuade you that it is a classic.

One of the first lines of "The House That Guilt Built", the soft cricket-laden lament that opens The Meadowlands by The Wrens, is "I'm nowhere near where I thought I'd be". The last line of the whole album is "this is not what you had planned". These bookending lines set the tone for this shimmering, ramshackle masterpiece - a fatigue and careworn pride in failing to meet impossible standards writ large over its first and last eighty or so seconds. "The Meadowlands" is probably the best record you've never heard, and once you have heard it, you will never be the same. Even better, it changes and you change with every single listen. If you're living your life and you really mean it, then this is the record for you.

I have already given some of the personal background to why I love this album and now it’s time to give a bit of love to the music itself so I’ll stick to giving a track by track account of “A Ghost Is Born”.

I'll tell you about punk rock: punk rock is a word used by dilettantes and ah... and ah... heartless manipulators about music that takes up the energies and the bodies and the hearts and the souls and the time and the minds of young men who give what they have to it and give everything they have to it and it's a... it's a term that's based on contempt, it's a term that's based on fashion, style, elitism, satanism and everything that's rotten about rock 'n' roll. I don't know Johnny Rotten but I'm sure... I'm sure he puts as much blood and sweat into what he does as Sigmund Freud did. You see, what sounds to you like a big load of trashy old noise is in fact the brilliant music of a genius, myself . And that music is so powerful that it's quite beyond my control and ah... when I'm in the grips of it I don't feel pleasure and I don't feel pain, either physically or emotionally. Do you understand what I'm talking about? Have you ever felt like that? When you just couldn't feel anything and you didn't want to either. You know? Like that? Do you understand what I'm saying sir? (Iggy Pop, Canadian TV, March 11th 1977.)

The single biggest fact of life is that you are always going to be alone, you just might not realise it. Listening to The Cardigans' excellent 2003 "Long Gone Before Daylight" will help you see that all our relationships are essentially screwed -- but at least it sounds great while it does so.

I have written a lot in these posts about how music gets indelibly tied up with places, events and feelings. For me this album by Fanfarlo is tied up with all three of these. It makes me happy and sad at the same time in memory of great times that are now gone but are fondly remembered. I am aware that this is the youngest album on the list so far and so it might be a bit early to endow classic status upon it, but "Reservoir" is a fine album and to my ears it stands up really well. Listening to it again in the course of writing this post I found that I remembered every note and musical phrase, and yet somehow I also managed to delight in hearing new features in the production that I'd not noticed before.

“Walking With Thee” is the second album by Liverpool band Clinic. It was released in 2002, which seems like an age ago now. Even longer ago they released the single “The Return of Evil Bill”, which was got me interested in them in the first place.

“I see the people working and see it working for them.” (Sat In Your Lap)

This arrived on Monday and I thought I would give it a post of its own because at over 3 hours of music, I am unlikely to do more than dip into it before writing the album digest next week. It is a far bigger and more enjoyable artefact than I thought it was going to be, so it probably deserves special attention for that reason too.

I admit that it was the artwork that got interested in Tubular Bells II. Trevor Key's wonderful icon of the twisted tubular bell is even more mysterious rendered in yellow and blue. It aroused my curiosity when I saw it one day in Woolworth's in Leigh Park back in 1992. The huge display must have been part of WEA's massive publicity drive for an album that represented huge potential for sales even though Mike Oldfield's stock had then been dwindling for a long time. At that point Oldfield had not made a good album since his soundtrack to the movie The Killing Fields in 1985, the end of a hot streak (perhaps 1980's QE2 aside) that had lasted since the original Tubular Bells back in 1973.

Idewild are a solid band who have released four or five albums that I could consider for this series. I'm even in the sleeve credits of one: Post-Electric Blues, if you're asking.

A Weekend In The City: Background

This week Arcade Fire released their hotly anticipated third album "The Suburbs". I loved "Neon Bible" but critics found it preachy, as overbearing as the religious folk it sought to satirise. I do not agree and think that it was an impressive continuation from an exciting debut. "The Suburbs" steps on from their previous two albums, both in subject matter and tone. It's sad, thoughtful, resigned, angry and tetchy - among other things. “The Suburbs” isn't the understated classic that I want to discuss though: with all the praise and plaudits, it may never suit this new thread of posts. I want to write about Together Alone by Crowded House.