Richard Cook - Abba - The Singles: The First Ten Years (NME, 1982)

 

At the event in North London for Rip It Up and Start Again in 2005, I remember a voice in the audience piping up - apropos of absolutely nothing that the panel were discussing -  to cry out: 

"ABBA were better than the Velvet Underground!"

A poptimist, obviously - responding to an uncontrollable contrarian urge from within. 

At the time I thought that - alongside its Tourettic quality and irrelevance to what we were talking about at that moment - that this was a really silly opposition to make. As if you had to choose, or to rank one above the other. Isn't Poptimism supposed to have freed itself, and all of us, from such binaries and hierarchies, rather than simply inverted them? 

(Some years later I watched a doc on ABBA and concluded that they operated just like any other "artistically autonomous unit" from the mid-Sixties onwards. They were a proper band, writing their own material and producing it themselves, aspiring to superhuman levels of  craft and musicianship, with lyrics that grew increasingly adult and emotionally sophisticated. Structurally, then, ABBA were "rockist" - operating very much not like a boyband or girl group (bossed around by producers, singing words written by professional others). So ABBA's true peers at that time would be Fleetwood Mac, as opposed to The Jacksons.).   

Perhaps the outcry was based on a sense of historical injustice,  ABBA having not been given their fair due? 

Well, they are the first entry in the Spin Guide to Alternative Music, so some respect had been granted in the 1990s. 

And in fact, if you go back to the music press of the time, you will see a fair amount of positive commentary on ABBA's pop genius. 

And it came from musicians too: Elvis Costello famously described them as a big influence on Armed Forces (the dramatic piano cascades of "Oliver's Army", the sleek bright tightness of the sound throughout). 

Okay the Richard Cook review is a little retrospective,and after the event, coming out in 1982, but hey look here's Dave McCullough raving about them in their "imperial phase" real time. 

And then a few years later you have Paul Morley describing Human League as the new ABBA. 

My ABfav ABBA tune

What a strange, super-sophisticated song structure! So many hook-full phases, such great playing.

Number 2 would be "S.O.S.", jostling hard - equal probably -  with "Dancing Queen". 

RIP Jack Barron

Saddened to hear of the death of Jack Barron - who wrote for Sounds and then NME among other places - after a long illness. 

I didn't know Jack well but I really enjoyed the couple of encounters we had.

 The first was when we were both sent as representatives of our respective music papers (Sounds then still, for him) to Warsaw to cover the first ever East-meets-West festival of alternative music in March 1987- the Carrot Festival, aka Marchewka. (You can read my report on it in this RIP post about David Thomas, who performed there).

Jack looked then almost exactly the same as in the much later photograph above, minus the eyepatch (which gives him a bit of a salty sea dog look)

Jack was already a seasoned veteran of visits to the Eastern Bloc countries and he had come prepared. His suitcase appeared to be entirely full of cassettes - advance copies of albums he'd been sent as a journo but that as released records would be extremely hard to get hold of behind the Iron Curtain. He told me that these advance tapes, once gifted, would then be copied, and that copy would be recopied, and so on.... ultimately circulating throughout Communist Europe. 

I was very impressed by this act of munificence and the following year, when there was a second Carrot Festival, in Budapest (my report can be found in the same David Thomas tribute post), I came prepared myself, with a large cache of advance tapes of recent alternative releases. 

However I could get no takers for them - and ended taking them all back home with me.

 Hungary then was one of the most liberal and permissive of Soviet-aligned nations - I remember being struck by a billboard of a glamorous, made-up female TV presenter, whereas Warsaw had been completely devoid of advertising, apart from the odd propaganda poster, a fabulously desolate and grey place. And because of that relative freedom and the country's proximity to Austria, Hungarian hipsters could get hold of all the music they wanted. Indeed they all seemed quite blasé about the festival and the weirdo-rock visitors from the U.K, whereas the first Carrot was treated as an enormously significant event by the Polish media (Jack and I were both interviewed by TV reporters) and by all the Poles we met.

Jack had a dry, low-key manner with just a gruff hint of baleful - which he possibly deliberately developed. At one point he mentioned having studied (I think in college - doing linguistics?)  how speech patterns and conversational cadence could be deployed to exert an almost hypnotic control over people. Something to do with speaking slowly and quietly and with pauses of a certain length - this compelled attention, the listener would be forced to lean in and couldn't break away. 

 Which was not unlike the way he spoke when telling me this...

The second time we met was when I was researching Energy Flash and I interviewed him along with his partner Helen Mead (both of them working for NME) and Barry Ashworth from Dub Pistols. These three friends were veterans of acid house from its early days. 

Jack had some extraordinary tales about his adventures with MDMA. Let's just say that he plunged into the scene with great commitment and intensity and took it as far as almost anyone at that time. 

 

He seemed none the worse for wear, though - his characteristic dry wit intact. 

A fine writer and one of those unusual characters who found a place in the menagerie that was the UK weekly music press. 

Here's an early-ish singles review in which swipes amusingly at Paul Morley while acknowledging the greatness of Art of Noise. 

 

And here's an interesting take on the Cocteau Twins

Early on, Jack was one of Sounds's main writers about reggae and dancehall. Jamaican music,  as I noted here, received sustained and serious coverage by the paper, far more than you'd imagine given its reputation as an oracle for Oi! and NWBHM. You'll find many pieces by Jack in that post. 

As I also noted in an earlier post here, his pen name is possibly an alias taken from the science fiction novel Bug Jack Barron. 

Looking at the Rock Back Pages bio, I see Jack actually wrote for a while for Melody Maker, in 1998, a good while after my time there was up. This makes him one of those rare examples of the "inkie clean sweep" - someone who wrote for all three leading UK weeklies. (Another would be Vivien Goldman). 

 (Sorry - I don't count Record Mirror as "leading". Mind you, there are even-rarer examples of people who wrote for all four, I believe). 

Lester Bangs - On the Road with the Clash, 3-part epic (NME, 1977)

 

The Stud Brothers - The Housemartins - Melody Maker, 1987

 

Paul Oldfield - The Bible - Melody Maker, May 1987

 

Paul Oldfield - Phantom Tollbooth - Melody Maker - summer 1987

 

Paul Oldfield - Bruce Gilbert - Melody Maker - May 1987

 

Paul Oldfield - Deacon Blue live - Melody Maker - December 19 1987

 

Paul Oldfield - the Art of Noise - Melody Maker - October 1987

 

Paul Oldfield - The Durutti Column - Melody Maker - November 27 1987

 

Paul Oldfield - The Bolshoi - Melody Maker - October 31 2987

 

Paul Oldfield - The Chills - Brave Words - Melody Maker - October 1987

 

Paul Oldfield - psychedelic house versus neo-psychedelic rock (Chicago Jackbeat / Nik Haeffner) - Melody Maker 1987

 

Jonh Wilde - David Sylvian - Secrets of the Beehive - Melody Maker - October 1987

 

As a counterbalance to the recent Japan-love posts, here is  Jonh Wilde both befuddled by and scornful of the veneration for David Sylvian (including his usually closely aesthetically aligned comrade Chris Roberts, whose viewpoint is incorporated into the review) 

I do find bracing these Radically Other takes on bands you love - and I've never forgotten the voice like hair lacquer line. 

Musicians as critics (3 of ??): Malcolm McLaren on rock and roll, rawness, Africa, folk rhythms of the world, the spirit of the hobo (NME, Christmas 1982)

 "Musicians", loosely understood, although Malcolm had broken out as a performing artist by the time he wrote this for the NME Christmas look-back on '82 / look-forward to '83.

Paul Oldfield - Hothouse Flowers / Lightning Strike - Melody Maker, October 31 1987

 

Musicians as critics (2 of ??) Jonathan Richman on the Stooges

The Stooges: Side Two

By Jonathan Richman

Fusion Magazine, Oct. 16, 1970

It happened to The Doors. They were loved in '66 for their new approach, hated in '68 for their pretensions, and are right at this minute being courted again 'cause Morrison is so funny and after all they really can play.

Meanwhile another segment of the audience had never heard of them in '66, bought all their albums from July '67 to mid '69 and now is losing interest.

Now it's The Stooges.

Among others, I've changed my opinion because they've changed some ways, and because I've changed my mind specifically about Iggy's stage show.

In mid '69 a few local critics and I thought they were a powerful band with a tough sound who made the Ten Years After crowd puke, knew what a song was and had a sense of humor. But the main thing we were interested in, and what most viewers talked about, was Iggy.

The Stooges ' "Phenomenon" = The Actions of Iggy

A pleasant change from the style of Joe Cocker, Robert Plant, and many schmucky stage performers, Iggy looked exciting on stage, could talk intelligently off stage, seemed a powerful person and one with beautiful ideas and taste. These 'old' Stooges were beautiful because they were so honest, I love their first album. It is unlike much else, exciting, really sexy and funny. "No Fun" and "Not Right" lead a list of songs which don't wear thin after lots of listening...

Terrific Ron Asheton

The main thing I liked about the first album (at first without realizing it, and the group's artistic standout both live and recorded) was guitarist Ron Asheton. I now think that most of what is good in The Stooges' sound and image is his responsibility. The reason I like their live shows better than recordings is that you can hear Ron at ear-splitting volume.

Asheton is most exciting on stage where Marshall amplifiers with volume on full, and treble, bass middle and prescence controls on approximately half (plus Vox fuzz, Vox wah-wah, a newly added Binson echorec and a red Fender Stratocaster enable him to produce stunning guitar sound.

These all contribute to Ron's near-perfect image. That guitar, used by most of the surf groups, "Buddy Holly" and others, symbolized white rock and roll. Of course it's red, symbolically a violent color often favored by kids who like to act tough. Perhaps, back in Michigan, Ron has a red & white full dress Harley Davidson cycle; maybe a black 50's Lincoln Continental or Chrysler Imperial or a 1957 Thunderbird.

You see Marshall amps look tough. So do his wide stance, sober but child-like expression, sunglasses and the Nazi symbols he attaches to his belongings. I always wonder if he plans these things.

Their second album, to keep you up to date on their artistic slide, features songs with less staying power than those of the first. These songs have little to say other that how "loose" Iggy is and how we'd all better look out. The first was also better 'cause one heard more Ron Asheton. He plays some nice savage parts ("On the Street," Loose", "1970") and one patrician pretty one ("Dirt"). Outside of his contributions I don't see anything interesting on it.

Novelty Factor

Two things about the Stooges wear thin with repetition:

1. Many of their songs.

2. Iggy's stage performance.

The latter becomes more like watching a magician from behind. Assumed spontaneity is revealed as calculation. The show became humorous, an amusing night out, until I realized the audience segment was fooled into fear by Iggy, fooled into regarding him as a daring, fearless man, sent by God to test your ego hangups. Then it started to stink, bringing us to the next section titled

The Obvious and Forgotten Devices used by Iggy or Iggy's "Charisma" Exposed and Analyzed

Since Iggy's exposure (artistically harmful, perhaps), to the Big City's bright lights and wordy critics there has been talk of Iggy's ability "to make anyone feel uptight."

He's so powerful people in the audience just can't stand up to him, we are told.

He's so charismatic, one doesn't want to, they say.

All right, now look. Charismatic or not, any stage performer has advantages about which any 11-year old bully instinctively knows, but which many rock critics, especially female, have forgotten.

First off, the things Iggy does which have caused admiration, wonderment and anger involve things like leaping into the audience, getting fresh with women, spilling drinks on people, dancing on tables, sitting on people's laps and occasionally pushing people out of chairs. We are led to believe that the "victims" in the audience are too "uptight" to do anything. Well, why shouldn't people be nervous?

When a stage performer leaves his stage, goes into the audience and singles out one person for anything, he will usually be nervous. Watch "The Tonight Show" when Carson plays "Stump the Band." It's obviously in fun, but still with all those eyes on them most people are relieved when through with the TV camera.

Throw in sexual aspects to the above and think of how tensions would obviously increase. You see, circus clowns have used this device for 100 years. They run through the crowd with custard pie and water pail in hand and stare out customers (except, having some good taste and some sense, only briefly) letting the customer toy with the idea that maybe the clown will do him in and letting him go just a bit edgy. Why then were these clowns not called charismatic geniuses? artists? stars? Because Iggy does this kind of thing but plays to the audience's biggest collective weakness, its sexual identity.

He's out to show how loose he is and how uptight you are and I don't think it's charming. I think it's bush league and sucks. Some people wonder why Iggy hasn't been attacked. How miraculous, they say Iggy is fearless we are told.

Be serious, out there! Who wants to hit a stage performer? In spite of Iggy's tactics there are people who have senses of humor. Well, this is part of the act, good luck to him say the better adjusted. By the third time I saw them I no longer saw humor nor did I see Iggy as a performer. I saw him as a man using little judgement or taste and tensely awaited a confrontation that didn't happen.

"Shit, one of these days some guy's gonna haul off and...."

I've heard that a few times. If that does happen it will be because someone has decided that Iggy Stooge has overstepped his bounds as a performer and is acting in such a manner as to offer us not entertainment but a severe imposition.

Musicians as critics (1 of ??) - Nick Cave: A Desire for a Bit More Violence and So On (NME, Christmas issue, 1982)

 

Paul Morley - Classic Nouveaux (NME, 1982)

 

Arnold Shaw - The Rock Revolution - 1969

 

This geezer was fast approaching sixty years old (born 1909!) and a seasoned veteran of writing about Tin Pan Alley and American vernacular music forms (first book published 1945!), when he finished writing The Rock Revolution. It was one of the first of that spate of books about rock that came out in 1968-70.  They must have all been commissioned by publishers in 1967 when they abruptly realized that rock was not just a teen fad but was going to stick around. It had an audience now that a/ liked to read b/ would also like the whole phenomenon they'd been caught up explained and historicized. Furthermore there might also be a market of elder outsiders who wanted to understand what their kids were into.

Younger critics of that time didn't reckon much on Arnold Shaw's effort - they thought he was an old, square, clueless interloper... a hack... and perhaps they were jealous of the fact that he'd got the book deal and not them. 

But I must say I was surprised by how perceptive and well organized these opening chapters are as an argument. 

I was also struck by the chapter sub title "The Recording Studio Is The Instrument".

Could this be the first iteration of the studio-as-instrument idea, years before the likes of Eno talked it up? Or was it just a commonplace idea by the late Sixties, in the wake of Sgt. Pepper's?

This extract is another example of the way that people then talked about "electronic rock", meaning not just the use of Moogs and synths, but the painting-with-sound enabled by multi-track recording, a.k.a. psychedelia.  See this Lillian Roxon Rock Encylopedia entry.