When I started doing these once-a-month entries, I had set myself a rule that I would only talk about a song or an album in 100 words or less. Couldn’t do it this time, I had so much to say regarding this month’s selections that confining myself to 100 words was an impossibility. I’d say that rule has lasted as long as Liz Truss did, but that’s old hat at this point. It lasted as long as Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s reunion. Remember that?
Anyway.
I’ve been on my Easter hols this week, which has meant that I’ve had more time to (be arsed to) listen to music. And we’re going to start with a double whammy from the man who claims not to be Jesus, but has the same initials.
Pulp, Spike Island
Well. Hel-f*cking-lo Jarv and co., it’s been a while. Pulp are bringing us More come June and this is the first taste we’ve had of that album. Dubbed by Jarvis as a sister song to Sorted For E’s and Wizz, it won’t scratch that 24-year itch straight away but it’ll grow on you in no time. After a couple of repeats, you’ll be begging for, well, More. It’s almost as if they’d never left.
Between this, Rialto, the Divine Comedy, Suede and Kula Shaker all bringing out new albums this year, it’s safe to say us Britpop traditionalists are eating well this year.
Pulp, Separations
Literally the night before Spike Island came out, I was already on the More hype train and fancied tucking into a Pulp album. Of all of them I was intrigued by Separations, what with it being kind of a transitional phase between early Pulp and the band we know and love. There’s two sides of a coin on here – ballads vs acid house. Side A is a bit plodding but well-written, then along comes the one-two punch of Countdown and My Legendary Girlfriend and it’s an ecstasy-driven kick up the arse for the LP. Growing pains are still present here; the production is at times a little hamfisted and overbearing. Jarvis’ performance is a highlight, but using na-na-na’s to plug gaps in the stanzas gets a bit excessive after a while. But by gum, My Legendary Girlfriend is the band’s first true magnum opus, and if I were Jarv I’d have to light a cigarette every time I finished singing that song.
Yellow Magic Orchestra, Solid State Survivor
The algorithm’s monthly contribution (This time Instagram, after I finally managed to convince it that I wasn’t interested in financial advice, wedding dresses, and praying) brought me back to the land of the Rising Sun. While February’s Casiopea had been pioneers of the jazz fusion movement, we have YMO to thank for picking electronic and even techno out of the future. While the 80s hadn’t quite arrived yet, the synths are definitely the kind you’d hear in an arcade, continuing my theory that any and all Japanese music can be seamlessly inserted into a main menu of a video game. Germany had Kraftwerk, Japan had YMO.
Iggy Pop, The Idiot
Every ghost comes back to haunt us sooner or later and I had a bad night of anxiety earlier this month. When that happens, a classic is needed to ward it off and get the brain back in the game. The Idiot certainly qualifies, and with it being the sister album to my favourite Bowie LP it seemed like a good shout. While I know it in no way it is a good representation of Iggy Pop’s overall career (Having repeatedly listened to Lust For Life as a toddler and made the CD jump as a result of all my bouncing), it is undoubtedly one of the defining moments for post-punk and should be accredited as such.
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Tender Prey and The Boatman’s Call
I kind of fell out of love with Nick et al. last year – Other things were piquing my interest. Then me and a colleague at work both gushed over how Abattoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus is a career highlight of the band and before you know it, they’re an itch I wanted to scratch again. I settled on Tender Prey as it was my first instinct that was then affirmed by a random number generator. The tone of this album is very reminiscent of Berlin Trilogy-era Bowie (no doubt helped by it being partially recorded in the same studios), except here the cold claustrophobic atmosphere and feeling of hopelessness is tinged by gothic tidings and the occasional harmonica (Looking at you, Watching Alice). Indeed, that hopelessness is boosted by the multitude of shit that the Seeds were dealing with, top of the pile being Nick and his needles. Read about the making of this album and you’ll understand it’s a minor miracle that Tender Prey even exists. Oh, and The Mercy Seat? It goes on and on, but it’s too awesome in its ragged rawness for you to care.
And then I decided I wanted to kill my joy, or at least suffocate it with another man’s bare-naked emotions. F*ck, The Boatman’s Call is an excellent album. Depressingly beautiful, it lulls you in and keeps you there, Nick holds you tight so he can share the pain in his heart and expel the ghost of PJ Harvey. It’s tough and one must steel themselves when working through all 12 tracks to avoid getting a lump in the throat. But it’s a rewarding experience, and a testament to the Bad Seeds’ ability to effortlessly strip off their dented goth-punk armour when the situation calls for it. What a difference ten years makes (And would make after another decade passed – I nearly went with Dig Lazarus Dig!!! instead. Glad I didn’t frankly).
Arctic Monkeys, The Car
I don’t know why but a mood took me where I wanted to hear latter-day Arctic Monkeys. Verdict? Decent. It proves a band doesn’t need to make loud and proud rock all the time, and they can make music that shows they are growing and maturing if they so wish. Take notes, Sheeran.
The Smiths, The Queen is Dead and Strangeways, Here We Come
I want to like the Smiths, I really do. But there’s something in me that just refuses to click with them, and it’s infuriating quite frankly. I know they’re great, but it’s like I go in expecting them to be great (what with their status as the Gods of indie), and they are just good. The Queen is Dead was a perfectly pleasant listen, and I was more on board with the slightly harsher sound of Strangeways, Here We Come. But God almighty, those growling sounds Morrissey insisted on making in the early tracks on the latter album were like nails on a chalkboard. Maybe I’ll try them both again in the near future and get back to you.
A-Side Glance 