Complete Peel Sessions (Disc 1) - The Wedding Present

Track list:

1. You Should Always Keep in Touch With Your Friends
2. It's What You Want That Matters
3. This Boy Can Wait
4. Felicity
5. All About Eve
6. Don't Laugh
7. Never Said
8. Don't Be So Hard
9. Hopak
10. Give My Love to Kevin
11. Something and Nothing
12. A Million Miles
13. Getting Nowhere Fast
14. Katrusya
15. Svitit Misyats
16. Tiutiunyk
17. Yikhav Kozak Za Dunai
18. Hude Dnipro Hude

Running time: 46 minutes
Released: 2007

The first of a big box set now. A former friend got me into The Wedding Present, a big favourite of the late legendary DJ John Peel, and as a result I picked up this compilation of sessions the band recorded for Peel's show. There are 6 discs in total... that could take me a while.

Thankfully this first disc is a packed one, 16 in 46, and it kicks us off with a number which sets a tone I expect to be kept. All frantic guitars, northern vocals and pacy tempo. The title is a little rebuke, too. I'm not good at keeping in touch with anyone, friend or otherwise.

I feel a little like there is a time and a place for this sort of guitar band, and that time and place doesn't really feel like mid-afternoon on a Sunday in January when I have other things to do, but I am squeezing this in to try to keep some kind of rhythm up. My weeks have been so tiring that finding space for more than one listen in 7 days is unlikely at the moment. If I can stick to one a week I'll be doing alright in general. That aside, I am dissing the music a bit that sentiment... I have never been a big fan of guitar for the sake of guitar, which is what a whole load of indie bands feel like to me. There is more to The Wedding Present than that - David Gedge's lyrics and vocals are a real touchpoint - but when crunching a lot of these tunes into a short period of time it does get a little overbearing.

The super-fast nature of the playing gives a level of intricacy that I struggle to follow, so I am left with a more generic sense of tone and pace that becomes a bit wearing after a while. There is a sort of similarity with the hardcore of, say, the Minor Threat discography I listened to recently in terms of the dominant feeling, but there are a couple of key differences. One, these tracks go on a little longer, and two the edge is a little less. This means that each track has a less powerful impact and also has just long enough to tick over into trying. This makes a complete works like this quite punishing.

I suspect that, too, it catches me in a bad frame of mind for this up-tempo, slightly downtrodden but spangly combo. I really feel like I need space and time right now, and these claustrophobic guitars are a polar opposite of that. I like the songs better when the guitar work recedes to play second fiddle to the vocal, it feels a little as though the balance isn't quite right elsewhere. Part of it is that the guitars are really stark and harsh, a metallic spangle that rattles around in my head, echoing off the inside of my skull and causing my temples to flare. I suspect this might be something that is less of an obstacle on their studio albums, when post-production may have toned down some of the rougher edges. At points here and there I find snatches of more refined sound that I really like, but that burning itch of annoyance at the harsher sounds is not going away.

It must sound like I hate this, right?

Well, that's not entirely true. I think it's fair to say that I don't like consuming it like this - my problem is the concentration of tracks not the songs themselves. I would never choose to take this disc and play it in a scenario like this one, where I have to listen to the tracks in order again, but remove the persistence and things look a lot nicer. A single track or really fast and busy guitars supporting that distinctive melancholic half-spoken vocal? Much more appealing. Likewise the rhythms - it's all a little one-paced (express!) to be consumed like this.

Every time the guitar is toned down a bit - its harsher edge tempered or the volume lowered, either one - the songs come alive for me. A Million Miles (yeah, we've got that far without a single tune being called out by name after the first) is a really nice track, the guitars are still urgent, fast and incessant, but they are flattened so that they don't feel like someone is rattling my head around. That carries over to Getting Nowhere Fast, too. These tracks have all the energy and attitude of the earlier numbers but tempered, the instrumentation lacking the piercing qualities that have made enjoying this tough.

We then dive into the Ukrainian folk songs. I don't really know anything of the story about how a northern English indie band ended up playing folk tunes from the eastern edge of Europe. I suppose I could and should Google it. I immediately find myself relating to this though. Sure, it's a little cheesy and conforming to stereotypes in places, but there is a sense of fun and joy in these tunes that the original Wedding Present material didn't quite share, despite some common characteristics. These tunes also lack the vocals (for the most part), not surprisingly.  I am as surprised as anyone else at how when you take away the bit I most enjoyed from the earlier tracks you end up with tunes I enjoy more... but of course there are other changes. Here the forms that are being followed are more respectful of space and time than the frenetic indie tracks, the sounds are more dictated by tradition than individual vision.

As the final number begins, starting at a stately pace, but promising to speed up - quickly delivered - I am left wondering what to make of this disc. It is just one sixth of the peel sessions. It was tough going for me to being with - the latter half has been very pleasing. I do like the combination of high energy and blue emotion that characterize the band, but those strings need tempering to become something I can truly appreciate. Tempted to scrap a large part of this, but I will hold off for now to see how the rest of the box set goes.

Complete Madness - Madness

Track list:

1. Embarrassment
2. Shut Up
3. My Girl
4. Baggy Trousers
5. It Must Be Love
6. The Prince
7. Bed and Breakfast Man
8. Night Boat to Cairo
9. House of Fun
10. One Step Beyond
11. Cardiac Arrest
12. Grey Day
13. Take It or Leave It
14. In the City
15. Madness
16. The Return of the Los Palmas 7

Running time: 45 minutes
Released: 1982

Why did I buy this? I'm not sure.

I am shocked at the release date. I remember a number of these tunes from my childhood, yet this best-of was released when I wasn't yet two. They were clearly baked into the British psyche of the 80s.

OK, so that opening line is a little unfair. The very first chords of Embarassment remind me why I picked this up... there's a grubby but honest charm about Madness' upbeat tones. It's never ever going to touch "favourite" levels, but its good for injecting a simple small smile into a grey day. It's been trying pathetically to snow outside, so the warm brassy sounds are a nice antidote.

That these 16 old tunes are crammed into 45 minutes like sardines in a tin means the listen will fly by fast and I can move on to more considered musical selections. There is a definite element of lowest common denominator about these lads, but popular does not have to mean bad. I am actually surprised at the amount of space and time there has been in the first two songs given the sub-3 minute average running.

I don't find these tunes to be very provoking of thought or words. There's something too familiar about them I guess... a sort of comfort space that has my mind switched off. That said, as Baggy Trousers starts, I am reminded that this song formed part of my English lessons at school, some 25 years ago. OK, only one lesson, but it came out of the blue, and unfortunately I can't remember the explanation or outcomes that would make that odd anecdote more interesting. I guess with the state of my music library now, this era of Madness is the equivalent of a palette cleanser between courses of a posh meal, though one that can throw occasional surprises.

It Must Be Love is one of those tunes that is so heavily scorched into my mind through over-saturation, and cheesy though it undoubtedly is, I think it holds up pretty well. That doesn't mean an awful lot since we can be frighteningly uncritical of things that have become second nature in this way, however for my purposes this un-self-conscious and mushy track manages to bring a smile.  This ballad is followed by a bouncy number that has me thinking of The Beatles over and above the other influences, one song in particular which I cannot recall the name of (as I have never been a Beatles fan).

I have made that admission on this blog before. It's almost a crime in the UK to be a music snob but not see the Beatles as the best thing ever, though I somehow suspect that is not so true for the generation behind me in snobbery. Wait, did I just call myself a music snob whilst listening to Madness? Something doesn't add up there.

Snob cannot be the right word.

I try to avoid the term "fan" as far as possible, because fandom is not something I identify with at all. Sure, the point of this blog is to go through my music, calling out what I like, what I don't like, what surprises me, etc., and in the course of that we'll encounter several artists I value very highly, but fan carries connotations that go beyond any level of devotion that I have been able to find.

I remain surprised by how much space and time these tunes seem to have, by the by. They pack a fair bit into short runs, perhaps because the general tempo is high. The other side of that is that yes, I am finding my thoughts riffing off general themes and trends rather than specific cues in the songs, which, thinking about it, might come back to the level of subconscious familiarity, not the conscious one. What do I mean by that? I think with the tunes that I am consciously familiar with - those that I have sought out and played to death, I would be more inclined to spout off about why I am so attached to them. Here the patterns are kind of ingrained, rote, unthinking. I am not following the grooves, the melodies, the beats of the tracks, rather I am letting my mind wander off whilst old patterns unwind around me.

Yet in doing so, this is turning out to produce more words than most listens, even if fewer of them directly relate to the sounds playing out. There has been no comment on the style, little consideration of the instrumentation etc. Perhaps that is because I rather expect everyone else to have had Madness baked into them too, which will not be true for children of the 90s, or anyone not British. It seems to me that there is no point me typing out a summary though since I can link to one instead.

Ugh, I got distracted by reading the Wiki link, bad form. I pull myself away as some less familiar songs hit. Sure, the same old patterns are evident in the music but I am not sure where they are going this time. It's nice to be mildly surprised for a change though. There are some odd, but effective vocalisations on In the City, for example, that make me think of old videogame sound effects.

My typing has run out of steam, my brain run out of words. The denouement is in effect, this Madness is over. I think I will cut a couple off the end in the final reckoning, as the fun quotient dipped sufficiently to not make the tracks interesting.

The Complete Kismet Acoustic - Jesca Hoop

Track list:

1. Silverscreen
2. Summertime
3. Out the Back Door
4. Seed of Wonder
5. Enemy
6. Love Is All We Have
7. Intelligentactile101
8. Havoc in Heaven
9. Reves dans le creux
10. Money
11. Love and Love Again
12. Paradise
13. Worried Mind

Running time: 56 minutes
Released: 2012

I don't recall what got me into Jesca Hoop. I mean, I remember that it was Undress, but not the whys of picking up that album. I loved it though, and still do, although to be fair my epiphany wasn't that long ago... maybe 2 years tops? It wasn't until late last year I got around to ordering more older material though, including this one; I haven't received the physical disc yet - sourcing is apparently an issue - but the digital auto-rip will do!  It is a first listen for me too... digital buys not usually getting dedicated play when they are grabbed.

The opening guitar is not quite what I was expecting... a touch classical. The vocal reminds me of Lisa Hannigan, and someone else I cannot immediately place, in its tone, breathy and close. When the chorus hits, it is more reminiscent of the Jesca Hoop tunes that first engaged me, and overall its a gentle start, but Silverscreen feels like it goes on too long at least twice; it fakes an end then finds a continuation.

I am hoping this listen will put an end to my listlessness. The past few evenings, and all day today (it's Saturday) I have done nothing of note, not feeling like I want to do anything. Brain won't countenance thinky things, body (and the woeful winter weather) not supporting ideas of doing anything more active. I pine for what Hoop is singing about now... summer; I would take spring. I dislike the dark, I care not for the cold.

So far there hasn't been any of the really cool use of rhythm that sold Undress to me utterly. Instead these seem more traditional songs, less creative, less sure. The guitar has a nice snap to it, and there is a lively beat to Out the Back Door, but it feels... young? Uncertain, following more than leading... this tune is a step up from the first two though in terms of more than a passing interest. Hoop's voice here is light, also reinforcing the feeling of youth - though I'm pretty sure she was not that young when this was recorded.

I start to hear some themes and tells that tie this to the other material I am familiar with. Nice use of lyrics outside of traditional line structures, for instance, was one of the features that made me fall in thrall of Hoop's songs, and her vocal style really supports this approach, apparent sharp short breaths punctuating long stretches with constant vocal, hold-overs with long notes as the tune catches up. I like the way it draws my ear in, I like the way it stands out, and the sense of falling forward, onward ever after.

I have had an odd start to the year one way or another, and I feel a little all at sea with 2018. I have been finding it hard to focus my mind right outside of work, which has eaten up the odd evening too. Sleep has been hard to come by, waking early regardless of what time I bed down, not wanting to crawl out into cold mornings. I have been more or less constantly tired... except when I was ill, when I felt sparkier than I had been for a while. Life is odd, as I say. I am finding this album soothing and a little soporific. I don't mean that it is boring me, but that it is relaxing. The single guitar is clear and tuneful, but also soft and repetitive. The lone female voice not always urgent... those long lines absent from some songs, lapsing into repeated choruses.

Looking down the track list at the start of this listen - which is a nice break from "Complete" works - I had hopes for Intelligentactile101. Based on the name alone I figured this would be one of the less conventional tracks. There is a child-like aspect to it, a playfulness to the simple melody. That said it also feels a little underdone, like the structure really needed a bit more (most noticeably percussion) to make it work. I suspect I might prefer the original version. Like Undress, The Complete Kismet Acoustic is a re-take of another album. I don't (currently) own Kismet but I think its fair to say that I will soon. I didn't own Hunting My Dress first either.

This line here to break up the sadly uniform paragraph structures.

Sad that I had to do that, but I haven't been flowing with ideas for short, snappy insights relating to the music. It feels like I have been listening to this for a very long time, but I am only just over half way through. I think this is probably more a statement on how restless and unsettled I have been feeling more than a stick to beat the album with though. Anyone who has read one of these posts before will be aware that I am never keen to over-criticise first listens - not that those people exist.

Ooh, Hoop has gone for French. I think I have another version of Reves dans le Creux on another disc, I vaguely remember having to rip it from physical media. Yeah. Snowglobe. I really like the effect that songs in foreign tongues can elicit, I am reminded of Julie Fowlis' Gaelic, or Regina Spektor lapsing into Russian. I don't think its pure exoticism, I think it is more the change up.

Money has more to it, there is a little more instrumentation here, another layer, and more interest as a result. This has the air of a track that could grow into a favourite, even if at the same time it seems to flout the premise (I doubt that all these extra sounds are acoustic). There is a hint here of the playing with rhythm that sucks me in every time I hear the undressed version of Tulip, for example. It's not as pronounced here, but there's a cool to it all the same.

As the music falls back into a more sparse and less immediately engaging pattern, I find myself thinking this doesn't really work as an album. Tonally something like Money, but to a lesser extent things like Out the Back Door and Intelligentactile101 too, don't sit well alongside noodle-y little songs over classical-style guitar sounds. I find myself wondering whether the same applies to the non-acoustic original. I will be able to hear in due course.

Complete Discography - Minor Threat

Track list:
  
1. Filler
2. I Don't Wanna Hear It
3. Seeing Red
4. Straight Edge
5. Small Man, Big Mouth
6. Screaming at a Wall
7. Bottled Violence
8. Minor Threat
9. Stand Up
10. 12XU
11. In My Eyes
12. Out of Step (With the World)
13. Guilty of Being White
14. Steppin' Stone
15. Betray
16. It Follows
17. Think Again
18. Look Back and Laugh
19. Sob Story
20. No Reason
21. Little Friend
22. Out of Step
23. Cashing In
24. Stumped
25. Good Guys (Don't Wear White)
26. Salad Days

Running time: 47 minutes
Released: 1989

I am hoping this ends up being another Action Image Exchange, a surprising and intense experience but one well worth stepping outside of my normal boundaries for. Similar crunching of tracks into a small run time, similar provenance (I believe I received both together)... similar outcome? We shall see.

It is pretty amazing how short songs can begin with long notes. I suspect it might be perceptions - they seem long in hindsight because everything that follows is so short and sharp - but nonetheless you can pack a lot into a sub-2 minute runtime if you try. 

The opening exchanges are not as full on or utterly mind blowing as after-impression of Fig 4.0 that comes to my mind, but the pace is vital and the sound is constantly shifting. I guess this form of punk is music's equivalent of sprinters... go all out for a short while, burn out and recover to go again. All action, all mouth, all strut. A million miles from my normal fare, but totally relate-able and enjoyable. I write that with a knowing smirk, because I don't really feel that in the moment. 

I am feeling a detachment from myself, a tiredness and ennui that made starting this listen harder than it should have been and has led to finding ways around doing other things today, too. I am self-aware enough to put the detachment on me though, not the sound. 

I am still tapping along, head bobbing, slight side sway. I am appreciating, but not really feeling it. 

Looking down the track list, the tempo of the album might slow down - the tracks trend longer later, and this concerns me because I can't see these rough edges supporting a more traditional length of piece. Not only that, but it is the constant cutting from one riff to another, one screed to a second, one pulsing, hammering beat to a facsimile, that gives the form its pulse, its lifeblood. Sure the band could write decent tracks, produce skilled output, but the really sweet piece about the short but intense track is that... it doesn't last long enough for its violence, its abrasiveness, to really hit home. It's like the classic trope of being dazed, shocked and surprised by an attack and not realizing the actual physical damage.

Sure enough, as I hit the second half, and the longer tracks (meaning those over 2 minutes - it's not like these are epics) I feel a little bit of the magic wearing off. The repetitions become too frequent, the impact lost by their familiarity. The same tricks have been employed all the way through, but they are seen and heard now, the wow factor is gone. I suppose I can point to my ears starting to feel like they have been assaulted to illustrate that the tone and pace hasn't all gone, but my ethereal detachment has vanished and now I am a glum guy giving less shits. 

You know what though? I would quite like more of this really fast, visceral material. My attempts to find more in the punk field that gels with me have not worked out that well. Steps taken away from the groups or albums I received together as a package have resulted in anemic, impact-less finds. Yet I am loathed to stick my toe in deeper for fear of the bad and the bile that can sometimes swill around counter-cultures. Basically I don't trust myself to find the good stuff and don't want to wade through the shit, which is likely to be actively un-enjoyable. Bad buys in other genres might be boring or bland, but they are less likely to be offensive. 

That same ability to polarise though... that is absolutely critical to the impact. Without it, if these tracks were anodyne, there would be nothing. 

I should be glad for what I have. Isn't that kind of the point of this site?

As ever with these inserts that lie outside the majority direction of these pages, which I guess I would characterise as Folk/Jazz/Singer-Songwriter... cue loss of train of thought. I don't know where I was going with that. It might have been "good to expand horizons", it might have been "quality wins out" it might have been "music has more in common..." or any number of other half-baked or half-formed thoughts.  I am glad for these little inserts though... the harder edge to the guitars, the driving riffs, the shouted lyrics, the additional personality. 

The longest track on the album is Cashing In, at 3:44. Actually I really like this one; there is something cathartic about the commonly repeated chorus. I get the sense that this track has a story behind it and the softer sound on the track is part of a deliberate sell out narrative - but that the band have still managed to make their deliberately half-assed effort sound and feel like them. If you're in, you're in, or something. I'm probably way off base here, but it felt like a statement, and not a face value one. 

The disc meanders to a close really, Good Guys doesn't have the heart, and Salad Days is Minor Threat Lite, not full fat. Overall I am less astounded and enraptured by this than I was hoping to be, but still pretty pleased in the end. Fig 4.0 made more of an impression, And None Of Them Knew They Were Robots stick with me more, but I am pleased to have heard all Minor Threat chose to offer.

The Complete Anthology (Disc 3) - Stump

Track list:
  
1. The Queen And The Pope
2. Seven Sisters
3. The Rats
4. Warm In The Knowledge
5. The Song's Remains
6. Safe Sex
7. The Lipstick Maker
8. Maggie
9. Love Is Too Small A Word
10. Ice The Levant
11. Thelma
12. Angst Forecast
13. Heathers In Shelter

Running time: 40 minutes
Released: 2007

More Stump now, such is the way with multi-disc retrospectives. You may wonder, if you are reading in order (as if you are) why I jump from Disc 1 to Disc 3. Where is Disc 2? Well, that is filed under the album it represents, A Fierce Pancake. I'm not sure why but I am not about to go and restructure things for consistency - it simply wouldn't be in the spirit of this band!

Disc one was a mess, but with some interesting bits and pieces mixed in, and I kept more than I thought I might. That was the last post of 2017, this the first of 2018. What does the new year bring?

My first thought is that the sound is more matured than yesterday's fare. There is more obviously a tune, albeit one realised through odd sounds and weird lyrics. The Queen and the Pope is much more clearly a song than Tupperware Stripper was (or many of the other offerings). It feels milder, too... watered down somehow. This is both good and bad. If the more extreme tendencies have been reigned in then there might be some more palatable sounds here, but on the other hand if it dulls the spirit, then it might end up with a bunch of dull tripe.

Early impressions are more the latter.

I was not expecting folksy sounds. The Rats opens with a very exaggerated Irish vocal, and a twangy little string accompaniment. I rather like it, moreso for the surprise, but it really does not belong on the same album as the first couple of tracks. It is over quickly and replaced by more of the quirky electro peaks and troughs that remind me of the small volume of Devo tracks I acquired at some point. It's spikey, hard to get into, but I think it largely works. The fast-paced vocal offsets the janky sounds well, though it goes a little tuneless in places and the end is bizarrely sudden.

This disc is jumping all over the place as the next number goes slower and darker. There is a nice atmosphere to it, the thrum of the bass in particular. The top end is light touch, soft, subservient and layers well for the most part - but then it takes over as a focus, a sort of evil magic tingle (if you've seen the same films or played the same games I have that might mean something) and it's an awkward, unpleasant central passage. Thankfully order is restored on the track so as not to sour me on it.

Then ugh. Safe Sex is just noises, unpleasant noises - bubbling sounds and nasal vocalisations. It does not belong on any record, ever.

It's a struggle not to be distracted by shopping... my brain is clearly in an "acquiring things" mode and with the sales on, I have a couple of wardrobe requirements to fill. Yet I haven't been motivated to look for things when not sat here listening. Classic attention and focus problems that have affected me for a few months now, and I am not sure why. In any case, after the horror interlude, the sounds have returned to something more tuneful. It is all very dated, but there is an 80s charm to Stump when they are palatable, and an 80s horror to them when they are not.

I have not been as immediately aware of, and uncomfortable with, the nonsense lyrics today. My instinct is that they are as all over the place as before, but they are less of a front and centre feature. Now there is a repeat of a track from yesterday... Ice the Levant has improved marginally on this later recording. Like many of the tracks here there is a more definite sense of a tune behind the screams and proclamations of oddity. It's still not worth holding on to, though there is a really pleasing resonance to some of the lower notes that I don't recall from disc 1. The screeches are too much though, as they were before.

Now that I am most of the way through, I will re-assert that yes, this is a more mature sound. By the time these tunes were recorded Stump had obviously refined their songwriting and performance. There is less random cacophony and more consideration. More of a standard pattern to subvert with their randomness rather than noise for noise's sake. There might not be anything as iconic as a man shouting "does the fish have chips?" but I prefer this more harnessed, controlled weirdness. They still have the interesting sounds here, they just use them in the production of tunes that are more, well, tuneful. For all my distractions and reluctance to fit this in today I have rather enjoyed it and am surprised to find myself keeping much more than not. The last track puts me in mind of Laika & the Cosmonauts, which is a very positive thing. Happy New Year.