Double hipness - the associates

With the computer battery counting down this will have to be a super speedy whip through. Reactions to this collection of demos and bits of discarded songs culled from here and there in tribute to Rankine and Mackenzie (the musical odd couple that somehow made wrong things sound so right) has been pretty mixed. Even though I snaffled this off ebay with some trepidation (who wants to be thought a complete obsessive after all that they resort to buying albums of demos, tsk) it was with some excitement that it turned out to be okay - more than okay. Meandering through sick cabaret (Billy's touching way with a lyric already evident even in early demos, rhyming things such as gangrene and vaseline) through to early takes on favourites such as 'The Affectionate punch' and 'I never will' the early incarnation of 'Party fears two', which are interesting as an insight into the song-creation process. At the risk of sounding pedestrian (ticking clocks are for once no good for creativity) It is also notable for the inclusion of Billy and Alan's aborted reunion in 1993 which resulted, for me at least, in a few songs of note, including the wonderful 'Edge of the world' which here is more guitar heavy and in my opinion the better for it. The collision of the more mature sound (the craziness of early years is lacking possibly because of that history) from both resulted in something promising but that is how it must stay, merely as a promise not achieved or going anywhere (as many of the songs included here found their fate). After all that, its probably most useful as a piece of musical curiosity which otherwise might have been lost.

A splurge of Billy Mackenzie - Outernational, Transmission Impossible, Auchtermatic and (with Paul Haig) Memory Palace

Take these together - it becomes clear quite how eclectic and varied Billy Mackenzie's gift to music was. It's not always an easy or straight-forward journey (even if you would desire it so!) At times it can be frustrating - especially when 'Outernational' goes too far into the kind of 90s laid back electro that has you fast approaching torpor rather than feeling anything remotely approaching interest (something which also inflicts 'Wild and Lonely'). It's all a bit too sedate at times and horribly smooth. You long for a stumble, an ounce of imperfection. But just as you begin to despair Billy rewards you with gems such as 'Colours will come', which, despite its admittedly soppy sentiments, never fails to lift my spirits on a dull day, something to do with the sense of conviction with which it is delivered (why it works on this and nothing else is a mystery I am still unravelling). I find the rest of the album a bit of a blur, songs seem to segue into each other with little distinction, oddities such as a cover of 'Pastime paradise' could perhaps be more jarring, but, the torpor wins out. A curosity more than anything else.

'Transmission Impossible' and 'Auchtermatic' crystallise Billy's plans for two separate collections of songs, which Nude buggered up by trying to combine all the 'best' bits onto one album (Beyond the Sun). Both enable more of Billy's final work to come to light, presenting slightly different versions of songs like 'Beyond the sun' and 'At the edge of the world', on the whole slightly more raw, stripped down versions which showcase Billy's voice perfectly - after the melodrama and vocal distortions of earlier albums like Sulk especially, its refreshing to have more clarity around the magic his voice weaves with its stunning textures. 'Transmission Impossible' is best heard alone in the dark, without distraction; a series of tender ballads, mornfully delivered in the richest of voices, simply accompanied for the most part with piano. And that is all it needs. I would hesitate to call 'Auchermatic' more upbeat; it does have 'Sour Jewel' to kick things off, however this is tempered by 'Pain in any language' and 'the soul that sighs', the former particularly seems to me an exercise in anguish set to music. Billy also does an Elton John with a song about Marilyn Monroe, 'Norma Jean', however it is nowhere near as cloying and horrible as 'candle in the wind' so I breathes a sigh of relief. With relief the lyrics on both albums veer from quite accessible to quite baffling (one favourite is 'the wall was high / and the gallery seething / at times like this / all I want to do is spin) the pensive, 'um', face expressed by Billy on his own cover to 'Transmission...' sums it all up perfectly.

Lastly there is 'Memory palace' a joint collection of songs Billy made with Paul Haig (former of Josef K) when they had no career to speak of and some time hence to noodle about in a studio and make the music that they wanted to make with no interference. Rather then it being horribly indulgent (which it could be), it's actually a lot better then some of the record company sanctioned stuff. On a first listen, styles veer wildly (and I am rubbish at categorising such things so probably get this wrong) from melodic pop-type songs (take a chance) to more electronic-led efforts (stone the memory palace) to rock (listen again, give me time).

Expect the unexpected... and even then, expect something else. The most compelling singers, the most interesting bands, for me, are the ones which keep you guessing, remain a mystery as to what drives them, what stimulates the creative output. Where the music is more important than anything else, not the life which goes with it or the kudos it brings. Something must have kept Billy going until it all became too much. It is that which these, and his other albums, celebrate and even if its all we can 'have' (posession seems such a vulgar desire after all) of his unique talent its perhaps more than enough.

Hustle into bed - delicatessen

The reasons for choosing to puchase an album are many and varied, well that's bleeding obvious, yet it is interesting to reflect on why. Why that moment? Maybe it caught your eye in the rack, maybe you remember a half-mentioned anecdote which rendered the band suddenly fascinating? Delicatessen were of the latter proposition; in my student days much time was spent in Record Collector, a store in Broomhill, Sheffield which had rack upon rack of second hand CDS, a treasure trove of obscure delights. I chanced upon (amongst other things) this 'hustle into bed' - the only thing I knew about the band was that the singer was allergic to water or something equally bizarre. It also had a song named after a letter sent by Jack the ripper and a suitably seedy vibe from the moulded greens of the front cover artwork. Re-emerging from isolation amongst a pile of unloved singles (now off to the charity shop) it is a strange album, full of asthmatic gasping singers, gin-soaked violins and deep melancholia. Not one for a quiet Sunday afternoon unless there is a bloody knife on the butcher's block.

Ha! Ha! Ha! - Ultravox!

Ahhh Vienna... raincoats... ice machines working over time... strange moustaches.... pianos in huge rooms.... singers named after annoying biting insects.... my mum doing the hoovering to 'dancing with tears in my eyes... these are the things that pop into my head when I think of a band called Ultravox.

'Dead in the streets / who's that girl? / Ireland screams / Africa burns!'

Ultravox are chiefly remembered for the one song, the aforementioned 'Vienna', a slow pondering affair which fails to make much sense but seems to have struck a chord in the British public for laughing at the collapse of a rival empire. If there was any justice in the world they would be remembered for their work pre-Midge Ure, however there isn't so it languishes in obscurity and means that you can buy such evocatively titled albums as 'Ha! Ha! Ha!' for only about £6 in HMV.

'One day I'll just erase the tape, wave goodbye, and fade away / Get lost in the frost again'

Conceived in 1973 by John Foxx, Ultravox! like many bands went through various lineup changes which would be tedious to pursue here. Except to say that they emerged as one of the vanguard of new wave bands, a heady mix of punk, politics, glam, synths, apocolyptic visions, violin, and, of course, sex. They produced three albums of which Ha! Ha! Ha! was the second. Repeated lack of interest from the British public however, tension and unhappy record companies contributed to their demise. Foxx left the band, Midge Ure was invited to take his place, and... well Ultravox (minus exclamations) went on to become one of the most famous bands of the 80s. Foxx was either gutted or felt he had a lucky escape from all the dry ice and raincoats...

'This whirlpool's got such seductive furniture / It's so pleasant getting drowned'

This is the sound of someone laughing as the world collapses around them. It is the glee of someone revelling in the chaos they see all around them, seeing the desperate people trying to be normal but only in denial of their own hideousness. 'Rockwrok' sets the agenda. Its filthy and its rock! Despite its ponderous beginning, 'The Frozen ones' continues the breckneck pace, brilliantly sending up the modern condition of apathy - all well and good but what happens when you want someone to care? Foxx's voice has the right edge of detachment although at times you sense he is close to revealing a feeling, maybe under duress.

'Your picture of yourself is a media myth / Underneath this floor we're on the edge of a cliff'

Civilisation topples, the world is not what it seems... oh hang on we've heard all this before, ha ha ha! Despite the cliched doom-mongering 'Fear in the Western world' is a delight, all grating, shrieking guitars, discordant violins and portent sentences, still only too apt over twenty years later. I would listen to this as the Titantic sinks. Whilst 'A distant smile' is deceptive, opening with an oh so haunting piano riff, seguing into super charged guitar workout and descending into a confused mess of found sounds.

'Our secret destination / touch down in the haze / As the cameraman pans away'

'The man who dies everyday' seems to be a good title for a Bond film, conceiving of the world as stage set populated by the strange and the freakish dressed up as the norm, like the protagonists of the 'Artifical life' , which also contains my personal favourite of all lyrics thus:

'She turned to perfection once / But realised she'd only turned to pain'

If only we could have that pinned up above all school halls we would save a lot of bother.... Our narrator though is under no illusions, he knows that this time is the only time he has so lets make the best of it! While he's still alive! We won't ask what prompts the fatalistic conviction, its probably better not to know.

'A shock in the dark can be good for your heart, oh yeah'

Perhaps, but so can a soothing end to an album and after all the jittery pokery, 'Hiroshima mon amour' is captivating (much attention is focused on this song for apparantly spawning the New Romantic movement), pervaded by sadness for what is lost - 'Future's fused like shattered glass / the sun's so low / Turns our silhouettes to gold' - not least the mournful saxophone solo (harnessing the gentler tones of the much maligned instrument). And so it fades away like so many memories.

Vogue estate - Stephen Emmer (1982)

It is not difficult to become overwhelmed with how so much music remains in ignorance. Imagine all the music that might be perfect for you yet languishes in obscurity! However the discovery of a new artist(s) often brings with it newfound delights which would have remained shrouded in obscurity. And so to Stephen Emmer, a Dutch artist, who in 1982 made an obscure little album called 'Vogue estate' - described (somewhere) as a film score without a film. It is reminiscent of the music I remember as a child in the car driving late at night, such as that by Jean Luc Ponty, his haunting electric violin in my ears as neon lights skipped by; exposure to the Associates also came then which is why it is some coincidence that I only found out about 'Vogue estate' because Billy Mackenzie appears on one of the songs. It seems that Michael Dempsey (bassist) and Martha Ladley (backing vocals) also appear (Martha sings on one of the songs) however the creation of this album (and the presence of any other Associates) otherwise remains a dense mystery. For once the 'net is proved useless.

Four songs caught my ear - 'vogue estate theme', 'wish on' (with billy mackenzie), 'eleven and then left', 'never share' (with martha ladley). If it was a film.... the opening would be in the mountains, the credits rolling over fir trees (somewhere like Switzerland with clean, crisp air) as pretty piano melodies float by. 'Wish on' is an altogether darker affair (should we not be surprised with Billy on board?) with rasping, hunted cello laid under discordant chords whilst Billy thunders away like an outtake from 'Sulk' - by now we are cruelly lost in the forest and he has no sympathy for us ('wish luck, wish on' he says). Conversation with him seems futile so we hide behind a tree until he vanishes in a burst of falsetto. But there is light amongst the trees in the shape of 'eleven and then left', following the pretty melody to the edge of the forest, where we discover a lonely, abandoned Martha Ladley (also of the muffins) singing her heart out. And there the film gets cut....

Beyond the sun - Billy Mackenzie

With Billy Mackenzie it always seems to be a wrench from the ridiculous to the sublime (which makes for exhausting and complicated relationships with his music), however I doubt it was his intention to leave such a bizarre trail of outputs. It comes to my mind (at the moment addled with guilt for dallying on the Internet all night trying to find evidence for the 'Vogue estate' album, rather than doing any serious work! (more on that another day) and mingled with exhaustion) that he always worked best with fewer people, although that is based purely on my assumptions made about 'Wild and lonely' which features no less than 22 collaborators besides Billy, and rumours about 'perhaps' which went through a number of producers. Before it was the stellar partnership between he and Alan which brings to my mind the hideous cliche, too many cooks... and probably too much money! It would be tremendous if it had all been intentional, some terrible joke concocted against an industry Billy reputedly hated. Maybe it is linked to the sad fate of the former 'rebel', the outsider who, when they become part of the system they struggled against, cannot help but succumb to its worst excesses in some kind of horrible inevitable perversity - given too much it becomes harder and harder to capture the magic of the 'struggle'... I cannot help but think of Foucault (the softer, finger puppet version though) who would probably say that it is part of the tension, the once dominated, in seeking the righting of their wrongs against the system, only becomes the system once they are in 'control.' Or I think it was Foucault anyway... Enough, lets think about music instead of this vain posturising of idle thought.

Prior to Billy's tragic demise, it seemed that he was about to drag himself out of the artistic mire he had fallen into. In a typical move for this consumer-orientated world it took his death for the back catalogue to be taken seriously. So emerged this collection of songs on Nude records (also home of Bowie-obsessed Suede for inevitable comparisons although Brett Anderson's voice is more of a thin wail than the rich outpourings of our favourite) which Billy signed to just before his death (unfortunately most of my research is from the 'net so I cannot verify it's truthfulness). However it seems that this collection was pretty truncated and represents only a small number of demos, tarted up posthumously by Simon Raymonde (Cocteau Twins) amongst others. Still it is a lovely collection, slightly mired by some bizarre juxtapositions of songs, mainly drenched in mournfulness. Retrospective listening cannot help but make some banal comment about the sadness in Billy's voice (also the strange mixture of anxiety/confrontation expressed by Billy on the cover image) and lyrics with regards to his eventual suicide but I do not see the need to do so. It hangs over the songs heavily enough for no further explanation to be needed.

Lets go backwards, as with posthumous albums it is difficult to ignore talk of endings. 'Nocturne VII' is deceptively quiet to begin, Billy almost mumbling, barely audible above a tender piano, slowly rising to a crescendo of voice, strings and piano until it fades away to whispers once more. Utterly moving. And then we get an example of the strange jarring musical juxtaposition that either delights or annoys (for another one try listening to 'Skipping' from Sulk and following it with something like 'Calling all around the world' from 'wild and lonely') - '3 gypsies in a restaurant' a rant about Hitler set to electronic eastern european tinged melody. It sounds as bizarre to write it down as it is to listen to. Next is definitely a return to form - 'Sour jewel' (such an image created by two lone words put together) a glammy, poppy, almost rocky (!) stomp which would not sound out of place (then, meaning 1997) amongst groups like Suede, Pulp, even Oasis if they were fronted by someone who could actually sing! For all his talk of chance, suddenly Billy comes over all fate - 'were you aware that we had to meet?' Perhaps it was a hidden command to all his past, present and future listeners? Then inexplicably 'and this she knows' is back to piano / voice ballad before you can say 'ulcragyceptimol' leaving you wondering if you had hallucinated the previous tracks. Still it has A fetching lyric about living by the sea - 'She lives by the sea / The sea gives her everything she's ever dreamt about.' 'Beyond the sun' is my favourite Ballad by Billy, a sweet paeon to a regretful life/end of life (?), although the allusion to 'crystal ships' is lost on me, it is his wounded plea to 'help me to understand / why others seem to plan / their memories' which appeals to me. I can't help thinking it's a good question as well. I was interested to see that Alan Rankine is listed in conjunction with 'At the edge of the world' which thrilled me a little - there is something about a lost partnership, for hoping that they still liked each other at least. This song has grown on me, partly for its low-key, soft rumble of bass and almost trip-hop- (sorry to use that horrible word) like melody. It's hard to describe exactly but there is a particular section where after an instrumental, Billy goes mmmm, returns to the refrain 'at the edge of the world / where the cold wind blows / in a sea of dreams / that seem to know' - its the last line when the bass kicks back in and something very special happens (another moment like this in 'Skipping' when Billy starts to sing 'Embarrassed etc.' for a second time, seems bored and gives up, makes a kind of half-hearted attempt at mmm-ing, returns to 'marvellous, lousy, could this be your safest way' with definitely more of a scottish burr than normal and then gives a small chuckle as he starts 'Ancestral etc' which for some reason makes me love this song to pieces). It the kind of moment which compels you to re-listen... '14 mirrors' is memorable for its strong chorus and meandering guitar although by now the lyrics are starting to concern about the narrator's state of mind. 'Blue it is' moves into un-quenchable sadness, just listen to the way he sings 'blue it is but I'll be there' and by 'Winter Academy' it is almost too much; in goes cynical detached listener, out comes a quivering wreck. Then we reach the beginning of our journey (although this is really the end) - 'Give me time' is tainted, fragile pop - now we know time is running out and there needs to be some certainty but will our hero ever find it? It is hard to tell if the atmosphere is made harder for what happened later; it was never finished, and because Billy never heard it as it is now. Was it meant to be so haunted? It is impossible to ever know.

So a tantilising might have been... but much more, one which should not be consigned to the fate of a ghoulish curio. Maybe I am getting soppy as I get older (and as I get more squeamish - I wonder if there is a link?) but I cannot help but feel there is real heart here. Rest in peace, Billy xx

(As an aside, writing this I was greatly indebted to the Billy Mackenzie Tribute site http://www.billymackenzie.com/ which has most of the lyrics to the Associates / Billy Mackenzie albums, very helpful for checking that you are hearing things correctly (which obviously I was not!). It also has a wealth of information including fascinating interviews with the Associates and Billy from the 80s and 90s.)

Wild and lonely (remastered) - The Associates

"Those first impressions They keep us guessing" sang Billy (Mackenzie) and we want to believe him. We want to believe that this was the musical direction he should have always taken, that the experimental years (the sulks, the fourth drawer downs and the affectionate punches) were the blips and this was what he wanted all along. To sound, not like an avant garde, pouting (impishly), always-close-to-hysteria glamour puss backed by some of the most audacious sounds ever to come from whatever hellish womb they were born in, but to sound more like, um, George Michael. Okay then. Not that I have anything against George Michael and his ilk (no, not really) but its never been my thing, that kind of pop which skates by in a haze of what might be called blandless if it did not actually turn my stomach with complete loathing. But still, lets give Billy a chance, after all in a singing contest he would blow George Michael away and far beyond the edge of the solar system before George even opened his mouth. I swear he is that good.

Wild and lonely... wild and lonely... conjures images of moonlit nights and starry skies, rambling through knee-deep grass, the trees swaying overhead with the slightest of breezes. But close your eyes and immediately its the synthetic-ness that intrudes - especially the fake trumpets and saxes which, if they are real, don't do a very good job of convincing. Many blame the production - if you adore cotton then this would be nylon, eager to please but ultimately itchy and unbearable. Maybe I'm being harsh... as Billy said, first impressions keep us guessing and my first impression was that 'Wild and lonely' was tolerable, if disappointing. So I listened again and again and got past the glacial distance between this and the pre-sulk goodness. Let's start with the good. 'Fire to ice' is a stonking opener, Billy not sure whether to be defiant or resigned in the face of abandonment; at turns annoyed, 'now you're feeling so pleased with yourself you're so sure and ease with yourself', then sighing 'I never could take good advice.' 'Fever' enters the room to a pleasant reception although again it catalogues the mixed feelings of still wanting the one who has hurt you even though you know it's pointless. A good metaphor in fact for my relationship with this album - technically I know its not the kind of thing I would listen to, it's too obviously pop and yet I find myself drawn to it, humming bits at odd moments. Except one song I won't be humming is the sickly sweet 'Calling around the world' which I can imagine S Club 7 singing.... best passed over quickly and banned from the ipod. 'People we meet' and 'Just can't say goodbye' maintain the upbeat tempo in the face of adversity, indeed it is a much calmer Billy (wild being a tad ironic in the circrumstances...); 'The Glamour chase' is reminiscent of eastern bazaars (not that I can explain why, it just has that feel to the music), whereas 'Where there's love' gets a bit too high and squeaky to make it enjoyable. Then... oh joy a song to be worth getting giddy over! 'Something's got to give' has a wayward feel, promising subversion beneath its pop gloss and you have to cling to it tightly as there is precious little here - Billy sings 'I'm at my most sincere' and all is right with the world. And it's enough - there is more granted but only 'Wild and lonely' the final track seems worthy of comment, a rather melancholy song of plaintive disappointment, a discordant piano at 'a lonely bar' - 'the floor you prayed on / takes away / a safety that was yesterday.' And Billy sings 'just to know I'll never be untrue' ... and it makes sense that he could save this album because he sounds so sincere even if the music doesn't. But then Billy could even sing a diana ross cover and get me dancing in the aisles... oh he already did (love hangover). Oh Billy, you are making me like pop music! You are making me destroy the barriers so painstakingly built after years of denial! But I love him all the more for it.

(PS there are 4 more songs added to the remastered versions, some covers and a long-winded remix 'fever in the shadows'. There is a suitable lack of drama which is why I see not point in making anything of them).

The Affectionate Punch - Associates

I was shocked today to find out that Heath Ledger, actor, was found dead yesterday aged only 28 years old. It seems likely that a drugs overdose was involved although that is pure speculation at the moment and it does not seem right to inquire further. Whatever the reason, it is sad that the world has lost another talented individual. May he rest in peace.

I spent most of yesterday listening to the Associates, it seemed the right thing to do. I always lack the eloquence to say how much things mean to me but it is unhappy that Billy Mackenzie is not around to know how much people miss him and love his music. I recently joined a thread celebrating him and the music of the Associates and it seems that everyone is so much better at expressing their feeling for the music, for Billy and how it/he means so much to them. Not that it really matters, we all contribute in our own little way, even just by listening, loving and passing on the enthusiasm.

Imagine a place where music was always inventive. Imagine a place where music had influences but those influences were only a foundation on which to build rather than the reason for being. They were in the heart and not on the sleeve. Imagine music which sounded like nothing that came before it and nothing that came after it; kings of 'top of the pops' all too briefly, unable to live up to their own high (if torturously achieved) achievements and disappearing into limbo pursued by ghosts screaming "bring us another SULK!!!!" 'The Affectionate Punch' is both nothing like Sulk - which is far more hysteric, melancholic, mischevious, glamourous and epheremal - but everything like it (can be traced from it), sharing a sheer diversity of mood, an electricism found in the relationship between music and voice and an exuberance which is infectious - take 'A', where Billy for the most part sings the alphabet and makes it seem the most interesting and poetic thing in the world (Robert Smith of the Cure apparently does backing vocals on this but it is impossible to tell as Billy must have smothered him), or the jaunty 'Would I... bounce back', with Billy singing 'If I threw myself from the ninth storey would I levitate back to three, well would I' assured (then) of his own immortality. 'Transport to Central' is rather odd and creepy, however suprisingly there are some tender moments - surprising because regarding 'Sulk' and 'Fourth Drawer Down' there are very few moments which could be described thus ('18 carat love affair' is too tongue in cheek, 'Gloomy sunday' well, too gloomy) although Billy's later output could lay claim to many such moments. Anyhow, here we have 'Logan Time', sad and affecting, mourning either loss or absence - 'I talk such nonsense while asleep / I lie for hours without your heat.' And 'Deeply concerned' with its combination of gentle piano and Billy's wrenching sighs at the end convinces. Everything works - there is no dull moment, Alan's virtuosity on everything except drums the perfect foil e.g. 'Paper House' with its riffs reminiscent of celtic wildernesses and 'Even dogs in the wild' a song which attempts social comment but gives up halfway through, and Lastly, 'A matter of gender' which captures the excitement of wanton behaviour (perhaps). And there are bonuses! 'You were young' which worries with its too catchy refrain of 'youth is hope/ age is corruption', 'boys keep swinging' the cheeky Bowie cover and b-side 'Mona property girl' which first launched the Associates on an unsuspecting (and unfortunately unimpressed) public. I doubt it would impress more people now, pop if anything is sadly sliding into the mire, drowning under reality TV shows and the lack of 'Top of the Pops' which whilst rubbish was entertaining rubbish and now I have gone for several years (maybe 5?) without knowing or even caring what is Number 1. This speaks to me of the hope that pop always has, to be vital, strange, to be reflecting moods which we all feel if we allow ourselves.