Club tropicanca birds are free

Some perverse syncronocity is at work, so lets explore the links between three works that perhaps bear no relation to each other yet seem to clump together in my consciousness. Well it's not that they don't share anything... all written in the musical ferment of the early 80s, the wonky new pop influence evident -Club Country (1982) bringing up latent memories of Club Tropicana (1983); picture the scene as the cod flamenco guitars of Alan Rankine strike up, the studios dissolve in a blue haze and past sails George Michael on his lilo, cocktail in hand smiling charmingly at Billy MacKenzie's untamed exotic vocal stylings whilst beside the pool friend Robert Smith dances blissfully, the seeds of Birdmad Girl (1984) being planted inside, he only turning arch cynicism into sweetness. Lets go so far as to suggest that the next link in the chain be La Isla Bonita (1987) only now the sweetness has become cloying, the early stabs at hedonism (even if to sneer) replaced with faux nostalgia for a popstar's dreams...

So my ipod has discovered it's favourite bands to be The Cure and Joy Division. Okay so there is no proof of a conspiracy but sitting here this morning already there have been 5 tracks by the Cure and its not as if they are the most represented band on here... Associates and Japan might enter into fisticuffs to gain THAT title! Not that I'm complaining mind, I have this strange Philip K Dick-inspired idea that the ipod is somehow designed to tap into the feelings emanating from your brain waves so that it tailors the music (when on shuffle) to suit your mood - hence last night when I was feeling a bit down it responsed quite brilliantly with Fight (The Cure) amongst others with it's inspiring lyrics to fight against the gloom that engulfs you in its bitter embrace. Apart from Pornography though - which remains a difficult album for me to digest even in the happiest of moods - I find the Cure strangely uplifting, as with Joy Division, perhaps even with the strange howling of Bauhaus in the flat fields, the recognition that these despondent feelings are not yours alone.

Last of the Pier - fantasy Black channel

Wow this band... every time I put this album on I just want to spin around the room in mental way singing my head off (although some of the songs don't have words just create fantastic pictures...)  I guess if I had to describe the sound it would be a mash of voice and plastic, muzak and laughter, pathos and inebriation, the headlong crash of youth discovering it has no boundaries 'cept itself.  All the usual cliches LOL.  I found it after the fire at Weston pier which kind of made sense to the name.... 'Space and the Woods' -  favourite things condensed into sound with (trying to be profound) lyrics (got to love the pretentiousness of youth) 'I know they don't owe me anything not after what I've done'... but what crime is that except to make a superb album?  'Heartbeat' another stunner despite the lack of actual lyrics.  getting work up a treat 'a heartbeat a flicker a line' but does it mean except on a machine (it's just a line after all)?  I feel them crawl into the cables... saving the best till last a magnificent stomp along this 'bathroom gurgle' ... it could mean so many things... the gurgle of water, the gurgle as blood is drawn... hey come on they put these thoughts in my head!  "we have all been wasting our time" don't worry guys it's just false modesty...

limbo, panto - wild beasts

Imagine a bastard child of the Associates and Orange Juice, throw in a dictionary and tales of furtive goings on and you are close to imagining the sound of Wild Beasts.  The song titles are a delight in themselves, the imaginatively entitled 'Brave Bulging Buoyant Clairvoyants' with its catchy (if a mouthful) refrain and the evocative 'She purred while I grrred ' tells you all you need to know... finally a band with an acute sense of the absurd arrives to brighten a turgid offering from over-hyped indie miseries and 80s copyists.  Because for all their subtle similarities there is something new and exciting afoot.... so the Associates link is not lazily made to referencing singer Hayden's operatic yearnings but as a context for the oblique lyrics and obscure sense of humour that is demonstrated (of course there has been bands since but I fail to remember any at the present moment), such beauties as 'take these chips with cheese / as an offering of peace' and perhaps the most arresting as it floats across a crowded field, sung in all seriousness.  Lilting guitars and the deeper richness of bassist Tom's voice combine to create a sublimity rightly championed by Steve Lamacq amongst others, for, above all, how could a band not be loved for such lines as 'I swear by my own cock and balls'?  It is unfathomable.

A secret wish - Propaganda

If pop was always this obscene and this beautiful, a discovery that only you've made crawling into the myriad sounds conjured up by the machines, selling your soul to the statuesque alabaster carved of English and German uniting in the hands of megalomania of sound...  power force motion drive propels its forward on wings of fairlight constructions, is it a sense of humour or wilful perversity that drops a jazz solo for goodness sake into this teutonic wilderness, lives and loves are lost in the blink of an eye, you murdered love 'I was the witness but now I'm the judge... I am the judge!  And I judge this to be more than a guilty pleasure, dripping in the decadence of the 80s mania for pop - dance away the shoulder pads and celebrate the melancholy redolent under mascara tinged skies.  Sorry for laughing but how can you turn a hyper-mania indie dirge legend to a synth drenched industrial pop dirge only a genius would even have the lunacy to attempt it but to pull it off... there is magic here in spades, the most unlikely spaces thrill with glitter; Jewel the sound of cheese graters if they could sing, its counterpart Duel so ludicrously conventional you have to wonder... 'Frozen faces can always melt' so throw away those assumptions now!  Its sooooo 80s but can you forgive just a teeny bit for the marvellous pomposity of it all, feel the drama as everything AND the kitchen sink is flung in (somewhere even synth pop supremo David Sylvian lurks before he turned his back on artifice and reclaimed his soul).  Selling my soul, selling my soul, never look back (goodbye the modern age with your dreary copyists)... it has the super shiny sheen of gloss Trevor Horn's sticky fingers by association even if he was too taken by the sleaze of Frankie and the hyperbole of Morley taints it still but a synth pop treat best consumed vociferously.

'There you stand making my life possible' - The music of David Sylvian

If you told me a few months ago that I would be listening to music which seems to be inspired by those who live in the endless deserts grassy savannahs and tangled forests away from the superficiality of the western world, the silence in-between the puzzle of existence, isolated communities, ambient jazz noodlings and mystical spiritualism then I probably would have laughed for a long and hysterical moment.  Needless to say my changed has been changed from contact with the long and interesting career of David Sylvian.  Prior to recent David Sylvian had existed for me in that periphery in the mind rarely explored, a name with such connotations attached as world music, difficult, obscure, a pretentious and aloof chap (also mixed up with David Byrne) but with little actual meaning.  So when the name becomes something real it is hard to resist the category being dragged up, assumptions and all, to be re-fashioned into something new and exciting.  So the category David Sylvian now means a rich complexity of sound, the only singer I can give time to for ambient jazz (yes really) David Sylvian I have to hand it to him.  He has kept me going in the times when I felt down, the rich melancholic timbre of his voice at once soothing and troubling, the gentle hush of twilight in an over-stimulated world.  Like Billy Mackenzie he underwent something of a dramatic change from a very mannered, (if not as hysterical as Billy M), approach to singing, finding and settling in with his voice over a number of years, along with the relentless desire to experiment with music and seeming to push himself into new territory with each new release.  The one thing holding it all together is his voice, familiar, easing gently into more adventurous soundscapes.

Perversely I started with the album which is considered to be the most difficult to listen to - Blemish - written during the break-up of Sylvian's marriage and completed in a relatively short time.  Although the accompanying instrumentals were stark (at times the scratching of a guitar is the only embellishment) and the songs at times could be accused of being rambling, I was surprised how quickly I took to the album.  Particularly compelling were the sentiments explored - 'How little we need to be happy' and 'The heart knows better' really struck a chord and filled me with confidence that experimental music does not have to be a chore or a pose but can be enjoyed.  

Going back in time Brilliant Trees was Sylvian's first solo album after the split with Japan, interesting in that it sounds almost nothing like his previous work (see the Dolphin Brothers Catch the Fall for a more obvious take on what Japan might have sounded like had they not imploded) but explores different musical textures including jazz (shudder) and acoustic.  It could be a mess but musically its coherent and held together by its themes of understanding your place in the world (inspired by reading Sartre's Nausea which accentuates the desire of intellectual pretensions so missing in some music).  'Pulling punches' opens the collection in an exhilarating way, perhaps the most upbeat number, followed by 'Red Guitar' which is my absolute favourite even despite the obvious jazz influenced piano, regarded rather disgustingly by a friend of mine, which only endeared it to me more.  More introspective are 'Nostalgia' and 'Brilliant Trees' and no less wonderful for it.

Everything and nothing (with its plaintive cover) is a quick way to come up to speed with the work of Sylvian, an anthology of his work whilst with Virgin records, including the albums Dead Bees on a cake and Secrets of the beehive as well as various rarities and singles that have not made it onto previous albums.  It also includes the glorious 'Pop Song' which Sylvian apparently wrote in response to being asked to do something more commercial... as you can imagine it is anything but, merging discordant chords with grumbling lyrics and for the possessor of such an emotion-filled voice it emerges that it is possible for Sylvian to sound utterly blank.  A superb two fingers to the charts (needless to say it didn't get anywhere but are we surprised?)  'Bamboo Houses' continues the Eastern influences so explicit in Japan's music and it is the diversity of the styles covered that so intrigues; Sylvian has the intelligence to surround himself with excellent musicians that are as eager to deconstruct sound as he is.

Despite the power of his voice, the largely instrumental albums that Sylvian has released are not disappointing in that they lack which is so appealing.  Gone to Earth contains some of the most evocative music I have ever heard, conjuring up hidden idylls in their titles as well as the soundscapes created; 'A Bird of Prey vanishes into a bright blue cloudless sky' and 'Sunlight seen through towering trees' leave no mystery as to the atmospheres they wish to create in the imagination.  This is the second half of the album, the first half is concerned with songs that are just as beautiful, even the lengthy 'Wave' (over nine minutes) does not outstay its welcome and (excuse the terrible analogy) ebbs and flows with Sylvian's emotional lyrics, very compelling.  'Taking the veil' is much gentler yet throbs with the same power.  It is purely an emotional engagement, I find myself at a loss exactly how to articulate the impact... the same too with Alchemy: An Index of possibilities which brings together other instrumentals, the short 'Words with the Shaman, Pt 2: Incantation' (featuring lively percussion from Steve Jansen) is gripping, impossible to guess exactly where all the sounds come from (real or taped) but of this earth.  It is grounded, evocative of the difference to be discovered when conventional approaches are abandoned.  It is a constant; Japan were playing with difference, even if it seems submerged under style, and Sylvian to me represents the ceaseless roaming of an unsettled soul, seeking for constancy, perhaps not finding (or wishing) to find it...

Catch the fall - the Dolphin Brothers

Having become worryingly addicted to David Sylvian in the interim of writing my last blog post (but more about that later) I found this little gem of an 80s album (1987 to be precise) lurking on itunes accessible through one of those handy little collections that itunes cunningly puts together to tempt you to buy more stuff having, as it does, a tenuous connection to some loved performer (in this case Japan).  In this case the connection is not so tenuous as the Dolphin Brothers are bona fide former members of Japan, Steve Jansen (brother of David Sylvian, clatterer of drums) and Richard Barbieri (wielder of synth) sounding here very much like Japan 'gone commercial', Jansen even sings spookily like his big brother.  In many ways this album is atrocious, it has that forgettable late 80s production sheen, world music pretensions, too many instruments, obligatory female backing singers but with enough of a smattering of the stuff that made Japan so brilliant, lurking there just beneath the surface... but lacking (really) whatever made them so compelling (also see John Foxx's and the Associates' work around this time which is enough to knock any hero from their pedestal).  However there is something endearing about how from the wreckage of a band implosion comes offerings that are not quite but almost...  so 'Catch the Fall' floats into consciousness pleasantly enough, 'Shining' wears its POP pretensions all over its sugary saturated sleeves... theres some wonky guitar wriggling through 'Second Sight' ... then I realise that Jansen and Barbieri are standing by some trees, ahem in a very similar (arty) manner to Sylvian on 'Brilliant Trees' a bit too convenient and the pink filter looks naff... well you get the idea I suppose, the guitars get a little bit more bombastic on 'Real Life real answers' but this is a mostly inoffensive affair.  'Pushing the River' ends on a positive if melancholic note, despite its lightweight sound at strange variance to the attempt at portentiousness it has one of those chord changes that weaves it's magic and invites surrender... one of those magical moments that exists in the space between voice, chord, instrument when there's a pause, Steven Jansen sings "I'd die for you" and the music swells to meet him as the lump rises in the throat... and you realise that even trifling obscure 80s music can have that impact and pretentiousness evaporates.

obscure alternatives - japan

the early incarnation of japan was inspired by the de reigeur roxy music, david bowie and new york dolls, 'obscure alternatives' an apt title being largely ignored by the UK music press (so obscure) as being derided for their outmoded approach to music in the light of post-punk and new wave (so alternative). it rather goes against that quaint British idea that we like to champion the underdog. so there is a certain misery pervading japan's otherwise brimful of youthful enthusiasm and defiance throughout (not least on the cover where they stare dolefully), echoed in titles 'sometimes i feel so low' and 'deviation' and subject matter which deals with colonialism (Rhodesia), as well as more traditional subjects. it is not hard to imagine why the band decided on a complete overhaul in time for their next album (Quiet life) however it is not so bad, instrumental 'The Tenant' revealing a calm and quiet beauty that exists alongside the claustrophobia.

the very best of... japan

the musical journey continues albeit meandering down another path which appears to be sign posted 'new romantic' but then has been hastily scribbled out by another hand rather crudely. ah Japan, until today only a dimly acknowledged existence in my mind but from today an essential part of a late 70s, early 80s musical odyssey. and yes you have to be quick as japan had a pretty short shelf life, like the associates imploding at the height of their chart success, a long-winded climb which saw many fits and start, break-ups and changes of direction from glam rock poseurs to new romantic visionaries. japan are also credited with producing one of the most oddest chart hits in 'ghosts', its anxious vocals laid over seemingly random, atonal synth creations (like someone messing in the studio) but strangely compelling as these songs always are. 'ghosts' kicks off this retrospective which largely ignores the glam rock beginnings and starts from third album 'quiet life' where they ditched this direction and set off on a far more melodic path augmented with synths, brass, sax, but as opposed to their peers (like Ultravox for instance) setting it off on a creative tangent towards the East. i would suggest that whilst every CD insert wishes to claim some kind of superiority for every single outsider 80s band in inspiring a myriad copyists, Japan is the only band so far where I can hear the obvious. 'Quiet life' for instance resonates with staccato guitar, chundering synth and David Sylvian's rich, languorous, if drawling, voice, immediately showing where Duran Duran got most (if not all) their inspiration from - 'girls on film' is clearly 'quiet life' recycled and re-processed. sure there are also references in the music, most obvious to me from roxy music (sometimes sylvian sounds uncannily like bryan ferry) and probably david bowie as well since every band in this period seems to owe a debt to Bowie (one day I might listen to him to find out how). a glance at the videos on Youtube also shows why japan are credited with the 'new romantic' tag, they are all bouffant hair, lipgloss, eyeliner and quiet flamboyance. apparently david sylvian was thrown out of school for wearing make up and dying his hair, still pretty subversive now since you only have to look at the comments on youtube to see that people cannot cope with such expressions of individualism without having to denigrate them. Like the best pop songs here you will find defiance in the face of indifference, flamboyance shot through with melancholy or something more sinister. the lyrics of 'gentlemen take polaroids' for instance seem to have a creepy subtext but you would not guess that from the way the song floats along woozily from the speakers and into your ears, until the prolonged ending of ghostly sighs. two songs about parties - 'the art of parties' and a cover of 'all tomorrow's parties' - promise disappointment rather than the smiles that come from balloons and jelly and ice cream (add 'party fears two' and 'i'm a party' to make the most miserable party ever!) as i'm keeping a tally i might as well mention that yes there is saxophone, most noticeably on 'methods of dance' which is also the stand out track for me here, blending female vocals, the afore-mentioned high keening noodling sax, moaning bass, glockenspiels, and near-indecipherable lyrics, all of which hit their emotional receptors in my brain with gusto. kudos also to the mesmerising 'taking islands in africa' and 'nightporter' which showcases Sylvian's voice with minimal backing of piano and oboe (or clarinet), very affecting. as an introduction it worked its magic on me and now I am seeking to investigate the japan back catalogue. see you in the racks!