A last post rounding up some
recent compilations before a few weeks of belated summer holidays. And fear
not, Cabeza de Vaca is coming, only once I get back. The technicians were away
on vacation, so the final fixing of the first show has been delayed, but we
will be on air soon.
Various – Jerome Derradji
Presents: 122 BPM - The Birth of House Music [Still Music, 2012]
Another retro-house compilation
to sit alongside Rush Hour’s “Gene Hunt presents…” from last year and the
recent “This Aint Chicago” on Strut (see below). Don’t need another one? Well
maybe this one is worth it, especially for the history buffs. Collecting together
the prime cuts from the catalogues of Mitchbal Records and Chicago Connection
Records, it tells the story of Nemiah Mitchell Jr. and his son Vince Lawrence
and their contribution to the genesis of house. The rather quaint liner notes
tell the story of Mitchell acquiring a PA and recording a New Wave track under
the name Mitchbal, half for Mitchell and half for [Dave] Baldwin, one of
Mitchell’s label signing and fellow musical contributor. While the track was a
moderate success for his fledgling label, it was his son who really bridged the
gap to the clubs like the Warehouse, Power Plant and Music Box where the seed
of house would germinate. Lawrence, recording as Z-factor, followed up the
also-New Wave track “(I like to do it in) fast cars” with “Fantasy”, made with
the help of Jesse Saunders who’s subsequent “On and on” is widely considered
the first house track. However, if the notes be believed, “Fantasy” was
recorded earlier and its release only delayed, but nonetheless the two tracks
appeared at around the same time in 1984 and the rest is history. An important
feature of the compilation is that it gives a more practical insight into the
shift from New Wave electronic pop, to the more austere and functional dance
floor sound that we now know, something that not many compilations have managed
to do. The vinyl version has only 8 tracks, whereas the triple CD has 32
tracks, but even on the vinyl there are plenty of gems beside the
aforementioned tracks, though “On and On” is not included, presumably because
it came out on the Jes Say Records label and wasn’t licenced. Mitchbal and
Larry Williams “Do dat stuff” is a cracker, Jeanette Thomas’s “Shake your body”
easily seduces whereas the mythical track “The Jackin Zone” by Risque Rhythum
Team adds an air of mystery and essentialness.
Various – Richard Sen presents This aint Chicago: The underground sound of house and acid 1987-1991 [Strut, 2012]
While the house sound on this set
does stray more towards acid, there is still not a whole lot of difference
between the music here and the other Chicago-esque compilations around (see
also above). That is not to say it is derivative or without interest
historically, but perhaps it arguably reflects a less critical moment in the
genesis of dance music, while still
being essential for capturing the broader changes in dance culture and importantly the view from within the clubs. Indeed, the
excellent liner notes by Dave Swindells give an enlightening first hand
impression of the historical context and an inside view of the clubs themselves,
working as a nice companion to several of the early acid house documentaries.
Music wise, the CD/digital
version has the peculiarity of actually being a bit too long. There are one or
two tracks in there that could probably be stripped out as they don’t really
add much except quantity. This is perhaps the first occasion where I am happier
that the vinyl has less tracks than the CD. This is one of my gripes about
buying vinyl, as well as different run orders between vinyl and CD scuppering
any idea of artistic “work” in a fixed sense. In any case, your entry fee for
the vinyl will get you the acid mix of SLF’s “Show me what you got”, which is
easily the stand-out track, Julian Jonah’s “Jealousy and lies” and Julie
Stapleton’s “Where’s the love gone” are refreshingly down beat and decorated
with elegant and catchy vocals. Ability II’s “Pressure dub” is also another
killer, almost a nascent IDM sound and spread over 10 minutes it’s a languid,
hypnotic bomb. The compilation also sees the welcome return of Baby Ford’s
“Crashing”, a bona fide classic.
Tangent: New Order’s “Blue
Monday”
One of the CD/digital only tracks
of this selection is Jail Break’s “Mentality” originally released on the Catt
Records label in 1989. While not a particularly outstanding track, it does
nonetheless have the distinction of being a late 80s house take of New Order’s
“Blue Monday”, originally released in 1983. This version lacks something of the
dynamism of the original, but is a curious side show.
This of course isn’t the only
version of “Blue Monday” doing the rounds. This week a choir version of the
track was recorded by the Brythoniaid Male Voice as part of a commission for Festival No.6. The
video is set in the Portmeirion, in wales, location for Festival No.6 and once the site were the mythical TV show The Prisoner was filmed. Another festival
might not be exactly what the world needs, after the recent disaster of the Bloc Weekend at
London’s Pleasure Gardens and the restructuring of All Tomorrow’s Parties (ATP).
The rock/pop line-up looks decent
enough, with New Order (of course), Spiritualized, Jessie Ware and Primal
Scream, but the electronic side of things seems a bit old fashioned with Derrick
Carter, Andrew Weatherall and Francois K.
The other day I also heard one of
those awful café versions of the track, done in one of those now ubiquitous
hipster jazz styles. God knows how many of those CDs there are now, your whole
record collection turned into lame cocktail jazz for the ironic and bored
youth. The novelty wore off a long time ago.
I am also reminded of a story
from many years ago. I was on my summer vacation in the sleepy fishing town of
Jurien Bay, about 300km north of Perth in Western Australia. We used to go
there several times a year as my mother’s partner was living there at the time.
The beaches are nice, but the wind comes in too early, earlier even than the
Fremantle Doctor that comes knocking like clockwork every afternoon in Perth. It’s
always windy and the drinking water came from a huge rainwater tank on a nearby
hill and tasted disgusting. I was in my teens and there with my sisters and
mother. Probably it was 1988, maybe 1987. The local hall next to the pub had
been converted into a teenage Blue Light Disco, essentially a soft-drinks only
police-run daytime disco. They used to hold them in the suburbs of Perth as
well, but for country kids like these, where there was not much contact outside
town and still only four TV channels, limited or no internet and no mobile
phones, they were probably the only chance to experience anything remotely
connected with dancing and popular music in a group setting. The pub there was
not even putting cover bands on.
There had been a strange little
buzz around the town before the disco started. All the kids you met riding
around on your bike would ask each other if they were going. Everyone was.
Apparently.
My sisters and I cycled there
sometime after it was half over. We had chickened out of going inside in the
end, like most of the kids, and we remained on our bikes out the front, parked
with some other kids and grandparents. Most of the people inside seemed no more
than 13 years old, many younger still jumping around with their parents. The DJ
was playing some kind of standard 80s rock or pop track and at the end of one
track he started to fade in New Order’s “Blue Monday” or the “Beach” as many of
us also knew it by, in reference to the remix.
As soon as the squelchy synth and
drilling kick drum intro began the kids began to boo. We watched them walk away
from the dance floor. The DJ tried pumping and raising his arms to lift the
crowd, but they weren’t having it. “Blue Monday” had cleared the floor. Barely
was the introduction over and the DJ wisely slipped over to something else,
probably something like Poison or Cheap Trick. My sisters asked what the song
was.
“The Beach” I said. I thought of
my school chums who had started to play it alongside Joy Division. What were
they doing for their holiday back in the city? I wondered. “Let’s go to the
beach,” I said to my sisters and we rode off leaving the kids to dance again.
Various - Fame: Jon Savage's
Secret History of Post-Punk 78-81 [Caroline True Records, 2012]
This release, alongside Trevor
Jackson’s “Metal Dance” set of industrial and EBM classics (see below) is another
essential release for 2012. There are plenty of obvious artists here, like
Wire, Joy Division, Cabaret Voltaire and the like, but the choice of lesser
known tracks alongside more obscure gems make it a less predictable journey
than it would seem. In addition, the jumps in fidelity between tracks and the
wide shift in instrumentation add to the thrills. Thus, despite being a diverse
compilation, it somehow feels more like a manifesto whose message has not
dimmed with the passage of years. Stand out tracks are all-women Swiss group
Kleenex and their simple, but thrilling angular punk hit “Aint you”, A.C.
Marias’ atmospheric “Drop” resembles the music of current starlets Lucrecia
Dalt and Julia Holter and Maria Minerva. The Method Actors “Do the method” is
also a classic early indie guitar gem. The presence of Pere Ubu and
their magnificent “Heart of Darkness” and Chrome who had a recent run of
re-releases on Russian label Lilith is always welcome.
Caroline True have generously
provided a mix by none other than Jon Savage himself.
It is also worth checking out
your news stand for the latest issue of Mojo which features a Jon Savage penned
article about the influence of electronic music, in particular Krautrock, in
the development of David Bowie’s sound from “Low” to retirement. The issue also
comes with a CD of tracks selected by Mute label boss Daniel Miller. While as
always with commercial magazine samplers, there is a certain bias towards the
more palatable side of the things (LCD Soundsystem’s “Losing my edge” and Moby’s
“Honey”, for example), you also get early Photek drum n bass (see my last
post!), Pan Sonic, DAF and the incredible last track, the confronting and
dangerous “Total War” by Boyd Rice’s NON.
By coincidence I am also reading
Jon Savage’s exceptional “England’s Dreaming” history of Punk music. I was
struck by one description of the conditions in England at the time:
“The postwar economic boom that
had provided the foundation for this fantasy had ground to a halt as early as
July 1966, when a six-month wages freeze was instituted and the pound devalued.
The economy began its long decline: by 1972 inflation was running at thirteen
per cent, and in January of that year unemployment went of the 1 million mark
for the first time since the 1930s.”
It sounds very familiar to now
and one wonders when society will at last start to produce our punk music.
Various – Trevor Jackson Presents
Metal Dance - Classics & Rarities 80-88 [Strut, 2012]
Like Jon Savage’s set above, this
one also crosses some pretty rough and bumpy ground, but it’s a ride that’s
well worth it.