Sorry to disappoint you good Ladies and Gentlemen, but "Take Three" of the Indie Top Video series really doesn't contain that much unheard material. It takes its cues almost entirely from the Volume 8 album, leaving us with only a couple of exclusive titbits. Still, marketing the videos and records in this combined way surely made a hell of a lot more sense to everyone.
There's a distinct decrease in the number of shite videos made by groups titting about with camcorders as well, which can only be a good thing.
10. Distant Cousins - You Used To (Ghetto) - Bonus Video
Oho! Now we're in highly curious territory. While Distant Cousins hailed from Manchester and were often lumped in with that "scene", in reality they produced a sophisticated and intricate blend of soul and pop, and possibly arrived a few years too late with their sound.
"You Used To" is probably one of their finest moments, filled to the brim with moody string arrangements and itchy, jazzy little touches to the rhythms and piano lines. It's much more suited to a long post break-up weeping session in the back of a taxi in the small hours of the morning than some Hacienda dancefloor action. As such, it feels more like the sort of moment you would find on a K-Tel "Night Moves" compilation than "Indie Top 20".
None of this makes it a bad record in the slightest, though, and it's certainly one of the most carefully crafted pieces of work to emerge on an indie label in 1989. Perhaps unsurprisingly, when Ghetto Records collapsed the group made a jump to Virgin and tried their luck with this single yet again in 1992 - but when it and other singles flopped all over again, they gave up and called it a day.
11. Tangerine - Sunburst (Creation) - Bonus Video
And here we have it, folks - the first ever Creation Records release to make its presence felt on anything related to the Indie Top 20 series (though we'll have a longer wait before we get to a proper compilation LP or CD with Creation product on it).
The main member of Tangerine was Mark Dumais, who had previously been a member of Crash with Kurt Ralske before the latter moved on to form (or create) Ultra Vivid Scene. Left on his ownsome, Dumais created the altogether poppy and more synthetic Tangerine and released one solitary single (this) and album before calling it a day. At the point of release "Sunburst" enjoyed strong evening airplay and an appearance on BBC2's "Snub" programme, so the fact that no further singles were released seems somewhat baffling in retrospect. Two factors may have combined to create the situation - Creation were often in precarious financial states during this period, and may have simply found the sales of both records too weak to bother continuing with any promotion. In addition to this factor, Dumais had AIDS and his health would deteriorate so badly that he passed away in May 1992, a mere few years after "Sunburst" emerged.
Looking back on it now, "Sunburst" is actually a supremely joyous piece of synthetic indie-pop, sounding like a blissed out and doped up Stock Aitken and Waterman protege wobbling down the stairs in a pie-eyed state. It's everything skewed pop in the indie sector was and still could be, if it wanted to. Creation released some truly horrendous records in the late eighties and very early nineties, many of them by bands who would never be heard from again, but this is far from being an obscurity to apologise for.
Sadly, I have the CD edition of "Indie Top 20 Vol 8" and therefore don't have the sleevenotes for this epic, nine minute long track, which was clearly left off the CD version for reasons of space. If anyone knows what they are, please enlighten me and I'll add it above.
Nonetheless, on vinyl and cassette versions of the LP, this track gave Sonic Boom two bites of the royalty money cherry, after "Hypnotised" on Side One. Perhaps it's safe to conclude that if you really, really hated Spacemen 3, and Sonic Boom in particular, this compilation was going to contain two major let-downs.
The only thing that sets "Angel" apart from the shimmering, heat-haze psychedelia of "Hypnotised" is its relative minimalism. Beginning with what sounds uncannily like a basic click track and a very simplistic guitar line, "Angel" gradually climbs a monumental hill before hitting a mournful church organ and gospel influenced vocals at the end. Proof positive that the "spiritual" element of Spacemen 3 was by no means entirely Jason Pierce's trademark (though he apparently helped out on this track) "Angel" really howls as it moves with its head bowed down the old gospel road.
Lyrically, the track appears to be a tribute to a recently deceased friend, but there's little information available on who it might be, or why this track didn't feature on a standard Spacemen 3 album. It's unsafe to assume, but it seems fairly likely that this was simply a very personal record for Peter Kember.
2. Loop - Arc-Lite (Chapter 22)
"Arc-Lite captures the noise of a motorbike chain deep in swampland and revving into the red, a frictional mesh of metal and rock that won't rub down. Like nothing on earth and out of this world" - Melody Maker 2.12.89.
Melody Maker's journalists and critics sometimes wrote some absolute tosh about records, but that's one of the best summaries of the sound of "Arc-Lite" I think I'm ever likely to read, and no, I can't top it across a few paragraphs.
In the same way that The Kinks "You Really Got Me" had a churning great stop-start primal riff at its very foundations, "Arc-Lite" is the pounding, crashing Suicide-influenced late eighties vision. From the booming, chugging drums to the howled, distant vocals, seemingly lost in a wind-tunnel, this is simultaneously brutal and hypnotic, and certainly an acquired taste.
The video was played on "The Chart Show" and featured Loop standing around with their long manes of hair in the wind near the then-derelict land at the London Docklands. Both the video and the song remind me of a distant time when the visual and musical landscape of London was entirely different - brash rather than flash, with lots of rubble and hard edges. How far we've come since. Or not, as the case might be.
3. The Telescopes - To Kill A Slow Girl Walking (What Goes On)
"...is like a sarcastic approach to religion. Well, not so much religion as people who easily led, y'know, people in a flock looking for a shepherd, people who don't think for themselves looking for a new Messiah all the time" - Steve Lawrie, Feb '90.
With an opening of ear-splitting white noise created seemingly by the entire band thrashing on their instruments, "To Kill A Slow Girl Walking" continues with a swaggering riff and sneering vocals, only to punctuated by more white noise at regular intervals. It's a thrilling burst of arrogant rock and roll which has one foot in Loop's world, another in the land of the MC5 and The Stooges.
The Telescopes would later steadily become more psychedelic and were even occasionally tagged as part of the Shoegazing movement, but "To Kill" shows that there was a roughness and a rawness to their sound as well which very few of those bands had in the early nineties. This has stood the test of time unbelievably well, and still manages to sound extraordinary.
4. Thee Hypnotics - Earth Blues (Situation Two)
"Throws The Who and the early Stones together and adds a rare sense of soul. Thee Hypnotics blast the blues into the nineties!"
Raw, ragged and furious, "Earth Blues" doesn't feature any kind of progression in the sound Thee Hypnotics had when we last encountered them, but is a reliable continuation of their scuzzed up garage noise. What's thrilling about is that it sounds so incredibly spontaneous. There's no sense that the group aren't hanging the whole performance together on a frayed piece of rope, and at its best, that adrenalised feeling a band has when they're playing free and loose can be very contagious. "Earth Blues" isn't a neat, structured piece of songwriting, but it's the sound of some strong musicians tearing the place up. Nothing wrong with that.
"Four, Five, Six, Seven... and Bjork suddenly bursts alight, trilling, preening, calling, beckoning, the scarlet ethereal voice hitting the topmost notes with a heart-stopping clarity, the jiggering rhythm folding across her shoulders" - Melody Maker.
The pop world hasn't been overburdened with songs penned in tribute to columnists who write for evening newspapers, but The Sugarcubes corrected that matter in 1989 with "Regina". Of course, being The Sugarcubes, the topic of the song was no ordinary woman, being an Icelandic columnist who mainly wrote about the achievements of her neighbours and said very little about the news at all, and their praise to her is occasionally eccentric and rather blurry in its aims. At one point Einar screams "I really don't like lobster!" in a manner usually reserved for political protest songs.
Business as usual back at the Bad Taste camp, then, although rather like the last time we met the group with "Deus", there's a slickness and poppiness to this track which barely matches the lyrics or indeed Einar's demented ramblings. The track clops along at an even pace, and the chorus is a simple, trilled refrain of "Oh oh, Regina!" which threatens never to end in the last minute of the track. The net result is that once the novelty of the sheer absurdity of the lyrics and the subject matter fades, you're left with very little to get excited about.
The album "Regina" stemmed from, "Here Today Tomorrow Next Week" is widely regarded to be a sophomore slump effort, and the fact that "Regina" acted as the lead single from it didn't bode well.
2. Kitchens of Distinction - Elephantine (One Little Indian)
"....hail from Tooting, South London, which is on direct route southwards to Timbuktu. Really. The band form two years ago after a chance encounter at the frozen food section of Safeway in Streatham!"
As the baggy movement began to gather pace and indie-kids started shaking their fringes and imaginary maracas on the dance floor to an assortment of Mancs singing to funky drummer beats in hushed tones, Kitchens of Dinstinction actually began to seem even more out of sorts than they were when they first arrived. For all that, "Elephantine" was possibly their biggest sounding single yet, with a huge yet disconcerting chorus. The track overall lacked their usual dependency on effects pedals and atmospherics and instead launches itself headlong into something approach a traditional tune, albeit one filtered through some peculiar prisms.
Perhaps due to the epic nature of the chorus, "Elephantine" did give the band their biggest indie chart hit yet, but their popularity would never rise much above cult indie appreciation.
3. Fatima Mansions - Only Losers Take The Bus (Kitchenware)
"Fatima Mansions is that very rare thing, a sound that sounds like nothing so much as itself" - 20/20 "The hungry, incredulous 'Only Losers Take The Bus' is perfect" - NME
Microdisney split up following the undeserved failure of their last album "39 Minutes", an unorthodox and astonishing album which featured fierce anti-Thatcherite lyrics backed with smooth Steely Dan styled arrangements and backing vocals from Londonbeat on session duties. The Londonbeat boys apparently sorely objected to getting in the studio to croon along to lines such as "There's nothing wrong with the young would-be rich/ That a head full of lead would not cure" but happily took their paycheque anyway. The record company Virgin didn't see the point of the entire affair, dropped Microdisney, and the group collapsed in disarray.
Lead singer and lyricist Cathal Coughlan wasted absolutely no time in forming a new band, and Fatima Mansions were the swift result. He was out of the traps so fast that, unfortunately, their first mini-LP "Against Nature" did still bear hallmarks of the Microdisney sound on a few tracks, containing familiarly brooding Scott Walker-ish ballads. Among those, however, were also pounding social rants ("The Prince of Caledonia he drives a diesel van/ When he's peddling skag in Hamilton/ He's a reality man!") and perhaps more unusually, Stock Aitken and Waterman styled indie-disco, slightly akin to Robert Lloyd. The group's lack of identity at this point confused more punters than it delighted, and their early work remains relatively overlooked to this day.
The first single "Only Losers Take The Bus" is most definitely remembered, however, being a thunderous, rattling juggernaut of a track, filled with Cathal spouting obtuse lyrics with a righteous fury and demanding, angular guitar riffs. Inspired by Margaret Thatcher's declaration that anyone aged 30 or over who still takes a bus has failed at life, some of the other lines - "Get these dead bodies off my race track!" in particular - hint towards a surreal attack on individualistic, self-centered Conservative values.
Musically it gave few clues about the fury the group were about to unleash on the world, instead hinting that their future lay in quirky indie rock - but nonetheless, it was far from ignored by the press, who were there to wave their flags enthusiastically from the sidelines.
4. Wire - In Vivo (Mute)
"Those masters of uncompromising melody do what they bloody well like (once more). Another slice of unholy Ecstacy on vinyl".
For all the talk of Wire being uncompromising, "In Vivo" really marks the final moment of an uncharacteristically poppy phase for the group. From the release of "A Bell Is A Cup" onwards, a clear sense was beginning to emerge that Wire were now a peculiar but faintly commercial group. "Eardrum Buzz" was proof positive that they could pen in an infuriatingly catchy track, and "Kidney Bingos" and "Silk Skin Paws" showed they could play their grown-up punk associates equally well at the "atmospheric adult pop" game. After this, though, Wire would become much more jarring and experimental.
"In Vivo" offers slick, catchy riffs sliding into an anthemic chorus, and while it never truly puffs its chest out, it's still a comparatively trad single by Wire's normal standards, with barely a sharp edge or unexpected twist or turn to be found. For those reasons, I find it possibly the least interesting of their Mute singles - and the fact it sold less well than many of them possibly indicates that the public felt the same way.
That's not to say it's bad, mind you. There very rarely ever was such a thing as a bad Wire single, and "In Vivo" is bold and shiny enough to be among the finer tracks on "Volume 8". It just doesn't excel.
The album this came from (provided you didn't own the vinyl copy) was "IBTABA", or "It's Beginning To And Back Again", which consisted almost entirely of reimaginings and reconstructions of other recent Wire songs, with the group often pulling the structures to pieces and building songs up again completely from their basic foundations. Frequently regarded as a substandard album in their catalogue, it was actually the first Wire long-player I ever bought, and I initially didn't understand what it was, believing all the tracks on it to be the original versions. When I backtracked later on, I actually thought the true original versions on "A Bell Is A Cup" were inferior, a view I've subsequently revised in some but absolutely not all cases. I still believe that (for example) the moody acoustic take of "Public Place" is the definitive version. "IBTABA" is definitely worth tracking down, but it may take a little bit of adjusting to get used to the parallel universe versions of the tunes on there.
5. Field Mice - If You Need Someone (Sarah)
"Taken from the double 7 inch EP 'The Autumn Store'".
While it's tempting to argue that The Field Mice were a huge cult band at the time, their subsequent influence on bands such as Belle and Sebastian means that their name is even more likely to be uttered by indie kids these days than it was in 1989. Indeed, a compilation of their work "Where'd You Learn To Kiss That Way?" released in 1999 sold more copies than anything released during the group's lifetime.
It would also be tempting to argue that the fey, ponderous approach "If You Need Someone" takes is typical of the group's output, but they actually played around with a wide variety of sounds, as future "Indie Top 20" appearances will prove. There's no question that it's something of a stereotypical Sarah Records release, however - dripping with wide-eyed teenage romance, sensitive promises, buttery guitar lines and plodding drum patterns, it's an indiepop Valentine's card to all women with duffle coats and cute bangs everywhere. And I actually have to confess that as a grown man, I find it slightly tough to get anything out of - this is a dream of a love affair written through the prism of boyish innocence, and it's a pretty listen, but not a very emotionally engaging or inspiring one. Unlike some of their other output, if you created an acoustic version of this and got a female vocalist to take the lead, nobody would really notice anything was up if you put it on a pet food advert in the present day. A strength or a weakness (or a sign that my true vocation lies in soundtracking adverts)? You decide.
6. Pale Saints - Sight Of You (4AD)
"This, the first to benefit from the band's jigsaw theory of song A songwriting pregnant with meaning".
WHAT?! Did "Indie Top 20" get that piece of blurb from a bad translation of a Hungarian music press review?
Anyway, "Sight Of You", from their "Barging Into The Presence Of God" EP, was such a huge track at the time that it hung around the Indie Top 10 seemingly forever, and featured in the final 10 of John Peel's 1989 Festive Fifty.
Along with the work of My Bloody Valentine, there's an arguable case to be made for it being one of the first "shoegazing" tracks as well. The droning organ, buried and cherubic vocals, and finally the sheer wall of guitars that hits you at the track's end seem to predict the emergence of sonic atmospherics rather than funky beats. That bassline, which almost appears to be leading the melody in places rather than anchoring it, obviously owed a bigger debt to Peter Hook, however.
Given the relative success of the track at the time, it's slightly surprising that it's heard so infrequently now, and also that Pale Saints failed to really build on it. Subsequent singles - more on those when we get to them - are actually much more adventurous and interesting in my opinion, but the group's appeal never did become as large as their early promise seemed to indicate. "Sight Of You" really should be regarded as one small element in their career rather than their crowning glory, but it's possible that the group paid the price for arriving with a certain type of noise far too early.
"Strengthened for the future. The nineties might see James pissing on the likes of Stone Roses and The House of Love, freaking out the Happy Mondays and filling the gap left by The Smiths. Don't let the new James pass you by" - Mix Mag, December 1989.
Mix Mag? Mix Mag?! But yes indeed, "Come Home" was James in their most loose-fitting clothes, flirting with piano bashing House riffs, frantic rhythms and angst-ridden lyrics. There was a whiff of desperation about all of this - "If 'Sit Down' can't be a hit", seemed to be the logic, "then we really have to keep up with the times and release a truly current sounding single".
Unlike a good many releases of this ilk, though, "Come Home" sounds fantastic to this day. Whether the band were chancing it or not becomes an irrelevant question next to the sheer force of the track. Tim Booth's vocals kick in immediately with the none-less-party-friendly line "It's that time again when I lose my friends/ go walkabout - I've got the bends from PRESSURE". Once again, for the second release in a row, the group prove themselves to be masterful at producing singles with tremendously conflicting emotions. The strength of the overheated drumming and busy guitarwork on "Come Home" powers through the doubt and angst and creates something fidgety, desperate to shake off its angst through dancefloor activity.
Once again, it was not a "proper" hit, but they'd sod off to a major label very shortly afterwards and return revitalised and actually quite massive. By the time their next LP fell on to the release schedules, Baggy was almost a memory and they had reinvented themselves as an adventurous bunch of stadium rockers. Nothing wrong with that per se, but I still wouldn't have minded hearing what a Rough Trade produced album would have sounded like in early 1990. Like its predecessor "Sit Down", the re-released version of "Come Home" just didn't cut it in quite the same way.
2. A Guy Called Gerald - Hot Lemonade (Rham)
"Rham Records follow up to 'Voodoo Ray'. Hot Lemonade is the title track of Gerald's LP - Remixed by Youth".
"Voodoo Ray" was such an almighty TUNE during this period that any follow-up A Guy Called Gerald released was going to be living in its shadow, and that unfortunately proved to be the case. While his previous release continued to be played in clubs and bought in record shops, "Hot Lemonade" was greeted with a baffled reception and is largely forgotten today.
Of all the follow-up singles to HUGE TUNES I can think of, it is perhaps one of the most confusing. To a series of euphoric dance rhythms, clarion calls and atmospheric, chilled synth twiddling, a man and a woman with Italian accents talk endlessly and deliriously about the delights of a beverage known as Hot Lemonade. "I just love... de bubbles... and the shhhhhhhhhhhhh!" they explain, imitating the fizzing sound of a drink being poured. "I..... I neeed Hot Lemon-aaade!" Of course, many people pointed out that "Hot Lemonade" is also slang for urine, and the sexual undercurrent behind the track may be about water sports.
Where you stand on this depends entirely on your general temperament for absurd monologues occurring over the top of club tunes. Personally, it's one of those tracks I've never quite bored of. There's an unreal, almost disturbing atmosphere throughout the whole thing, and if you heard this at your local warehouse party while ripped to your very tits on a pill, it might cause you to doubt your sanity. At home, however, it's a delightful and fascinating mix of ideas which shows more daft adventure than "Voodoo Ray" ever did. And at the very least, the spirit of Derek and Clive could be said to be running between the two very comfortably.
3. The KLF - Kylie Said To Jason (KLF Communications)
"We wore our Pet Shop Boys infatuations brazenly on our sleeves while we recorded this track and we are proud of it. As for Kylie & Jason, the lyrics are not some attempt at a clever critique on our current soap idols".
"Kylie Said To Jason" was the KLF's follow-up single to "Doctorin' The Tardis", a track the pair would claim was carefully crafted to be a number one shortly after it reached the top in the UK (although this sounds a piece of fanciful retrospective thinking). It too was supposed to follow the single into the charts and provide them with some more money to finish their long-awaited film "The White Room" and rescue them from 'the jaws of bankruptcy', but in the end it failed to even get into the Top 100.
Shortly after its failure, however, a series of limited edition Trance records cut by the pair began to pick up play at clubs and at numerous free parties and 'raves' around the country. After capitalising on this credibility by remixing and reproducing some of the tracks with the aim of getting them to chart, their careers skyrocketed into the major league, and platinum discs, Brit Awards and critical acclaim followed. Unfortunately for the poor, maligned "Kylie Said To Jason", however, it was a mere piece of Pet Shop Boys aping pop which would have been poorly received by the underground groovers and shakers at the time, and as a net result it never appeared on "The White Room" album (despite having a place in the early rough tracklistings) and was never re-issued anywhere officially.
This is all rather sad, as "Kylie Said To Jason" probably is one of the finest records the KLF shoved out. It is as sarcastic in its tones as it is surreal, reeling off lists of Antipodean stereotypes whilst keeping a bouncing Europop beat running behind. That it didn't catch on and ride the zeitgeist of all things "Neighbours" that dominated at the time may have been due to the fact that the whole affair didn't make much sense to anybody apart from KLF fans. There are no repetitive catchphrases to be had, no obvious jokes, and no use of whacky samples. It's even subtly catchy rather than poleaxing listeners with its reference points, and has a sudden diversion during the outro which is both thoughtful and pleasing. It breaks more or less every single rule for novelty success, then, where "Doctorin' The Tardis" could not be seen to fail.
Despite - or more likely because of - the above, it's been one of the KLF singles I've returned to most frequently. The Pet Shop Boys would have killed to have turned out something like this, and while it may stand out like a sore thumb in the middle of the rest of their catalogue, it's sodding great, and really should be heard by everyone, not just fans of the KLF.
As for the "White Room" film, it was never properly finished, though rushes exist online of the "exterior" elements of the script. In places, it feels like a truly beautiful long-form music video, so we're not necessarily worse off than we might have been.
4. Alien Sex Fiend - Haunted House (Anagram)
"A classic fiendish dance thrash especially remixed by Youth from Brilliant and scratched over by DJ Cesare from Gee Street Records".
Goth Dance? Whatever next? In fairness, there was always a dance element to Alien Sex Fiend's Gothic rock, with them happily indulging in dub remixes, samples and uptempo and camp doom and gloom. Therefore, a remix by Youth wasn't such a ridiculous step into the unknown.
"Haunted House" was a slightly hollow and dated sounding track for 1989, though, sounding like a bedroom-produced Art of Noise rip-off. There's nothing here worthy of greater praise or analysis than that.
Alien Sex Fiend, of course, enjoyed a long history on both the Goth scene, the National Top 100 and the indie charts, being a cult band with a seriously dedicated following. In a reduced state with only a couple of the original members left, they remain a going concern.
5. The Shamen - Omega Amigo (One Little Indian)
"This single became a club classic from The Shamen. Their musical style has progressed from psychedelic high energy guitar rock to an edgy pop with far more rhythmic feel inspired by the House, Hip Hop and EDM sounds they have absorbed since moving down south a year ago. They continue to move Phorward".
And really, this is the point the band truly arrived. "Omega Amigo" wasn't a proper hit single, but is an almost impossibly blissed piece of electronic dance music, like finding an oasis of calm amidst a seething mass of frantic activity. The central chorus, if it could be called that, is really just a continually stretching, reaching and watery keyboard riff, while Colin Angus assures the listener "Omega Amigo for you, I will always have time". A pulsing, plucking, gentle and busy riff dominates the rest of the track.
Like "Pacific State" by 808 State from around the same period, "Omega Amigo" is a gently stroking hand on the brow amidst a sea of hedonism, an oasis of calm amidst the delirium. I still think it's one of the finest singles the band ever released.
Format: Double Vinyl, CD, Cassette Year of Release: 1990
As a new decade dawned, and Guru Josh uttered "Nineteen nineties... time for the Guru... ooh ah ooh uh!" for us all to nod serenely, one might have expected sweeping changes from the team at Beechwood Music. In reality, Volume 9 would see a huge change in the design and visibility of the series, whereas Volume 8 looks like more of the same and really is.
There's not much to fault here, actually. Hideous public convenience shaded green sleeve aside, it continued to contain the most relevant indie acts and eccentric relative outsiders - Peel perennials and IPC flavours-of-the-month alike.
Indie-Dance was now starting to become a seriously huge deal, and just about any indie band was slapping out dance remixes of their singles - even The Wonder Stuff, who released a single called "Who Wants To Be The Disco King" in 1989 then came up with a dance remix of "Circlesquare" in 1990, without a hint of embarrassment. Volume 8 of the series does hint towards that tendency ever so slightly, but its focus on the dying months of 1989 means we're not quite in the midst of Baggygeddon yet. But that's coming. Oh, it's most definitely coming.
1. Inspiral Carpets - Move (Cow)
"Move showed that Inspiral Carpets were quite capable of appealing to a wider audience than anybody thought. It reached number 49 in the Gallup chart on their own label".
To me, "Move" feels like the start of the Inspiral Carpets finishing the business of being garage-pop retroheads and into the realms of creating much more slickly produced, considered singles. Whereas earlier tracks nodded towards old Pebbles compilation LPs and scratchy old film clips of Question Mark and The Mysterians (one of their early cassettes even included a cover of "96 Tears"), from this point forward they would attain a similar melancholy gloss to The Stranglers.
Their progress towards the National Top 40 was actually greeted somewhat guardedly by the press. On the one hand, the NME in particular wanted Manchester bands to succeed and gain a larger profile, but the Inspiral Carpets weren't rebellious outsiders like The Roses and The Mondays. These were rather plain, shaggy looking men with a workmanlike attitude, not ex-drug dealers or would-be revolutionaries. They appeared to slip through the net quietly without everyone's permission - The Boomtown Rats to The Stone Roses' Sex Pistols and The Mondays' Clash, if you will. They would never quite be forgiven for their insolence.
That's a bit ridiculous, though. The Inspiral Carpets were becoming very good songwriters indeed, and that's apparent on "Move". With a swirling, faintly psychedelic instrumental break but with much more emphasis placed on the moody autumnal hooks elsewhere, it's a track that proves the band not only could take things to the next level, they almost certainly would. It still sounds like a detailed and involving slice of pop to this day, and is one I still regularly play (unlike most of the rest of Side One here).
2. Dub Sex - Time Of Life (Scam)
"Tough times. Many thanks to Alison, Martin, Edward 'Wood' Barton, Chris 'Remix' Nagle, Phil 'Beard' Korbel and Dat 2 Dat. Looking forward..."
Manchester's Dub Sex were around at the birth of the Hacienda and the baggy movement, and were widely regarded as one of the city's most favoured bands, only to be rudely sidelined just as everything went stellar around them. While other bands soundtracked parties, Dub Sex had a doomy post-punk sound which felt like part of Manchester's past rather than present or future. Rather unfortunately, the Indie Top 20 series only gave them space for their last ever single, and the sleevenotes above act as a rather unfortunate epitaph.
"Time Of Life" probably isn't their greatest moment, either. Slamming, clattering, and kicking its way around like a stroppy teenager, it establishes its main mood early on then never really progresses much. There are better examples of their work on YouTube if you take the time to surf around -this really does sound like the towel being thrown in by comparison. Still, future Indie Dancers the New Fast Automatic Daffodils did sound as if they owed a small debt to some of Dub Sex's ideas.
3. Depeche Mode - Personal Jesus (Mute)
"It's nice to see Depeche Mode back where they belong, breeding discontent, shitting over all else in their devout intent, huge fun".
"Personal Jesus" was, of course, a huge breakthrough single for Depeche Mode in America, and is frequently cited as being one of their key tracks. It's just... it's just... as a fan, it really doesn't cut it for me. Not only is it very atypical of the rest of their output, its incessant Duane Eddy styled twanging and stomping feels like four men from Essex attending a fancy dress party in old school rock and roll gear. A lot of silly fun for five minutes, but the post-party snapshots wouldn't be something anyone should want pasted on to the cover of their biography.
Inspired partly by religious phonelines in the USA and the book "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Presley, it's also one of the most American sounding recordings the otherwise distinctly European group produced. A mere few years before they were holed up in Berlin, now they appeared to be on horseback riding through the prairie and dreaming of Gracelands.
In the end, it feels as if "Personal Jesus" is the favourite Depeche Mode track among non-fans of the band. As it was the lead single off "Violator", I instantly supposed the game was up and the band were now going to descend into some weird mid-Atlantic, guitar-based compromise. That luckily proved not to be the case, but this is still something I tend to skip on "Violator" whenever I want to listen to the LP.
4. Family Cat - Tom Verlaine (Bad Girl)
"For John, Fred, Jelb and Kev. Five loveable hits from the sticks. Fore runners of the Manchester scene, inventors of Acid House and instigators of the Roving Sweeping System 1989... WAS"
I think they're being a bit sarcastic, readers.
Yeovil's Family Cat were never more or less than common-or-garden indie noiseniks who steadily, over time, honed their craft into something much more epic sounding. Subsequent years have been a bit unkind to their output, turning a blind eye to their presence in the indie charts and national music press, and also frequently ignoring the fact that they more-or-less discovered fellow Yeovilian Polly Harvey (who delivered backing vocals on their single "Colour Me Grey").
In fairness, the scratchiness of "Tom Verlaine" is probably one of their finest moments, and the slicker they became the less interesting they got. "Verlaine" is a touching tribute to youthful love spent in pubs listening to cult artists, and supping beer together. It struck a chord with John Peel audiences as it inevitably would, and became their most significant moment.
They clung on to the Indie charts like determined limpets for many years afterwards, though, meaning this isn't the last time we'll be discussing them.
5. Spacemen 3 - Hypnotized (Fire)
"Single of the week in ALL music papers which has not happened since Prince's "Kiss". 'The Spacemen's latest its positively Ethereal, a Velvet Underground sounding blend of rotating guitar and organ, a shimmering happy love song from Rugby's finest' - Sounds, July '89".
If "Revolution" on Volume 6 was an agitated call-to-arms about some vague cause or other, "Hypnotized" is drowning in hallucinogenic chemicals, with vocals sounding as if they're emerging deep from a shagpile carpet on the floor. It oozes out of your stereo, builds slightly, then slops and slides on the floor fizzing slightly as it goes.
Oddly, I have no memory of ever thinking of it as a significant musical moment - certainly not to the extent that the music press salivated about it - but it is an impressive psychedelic track, even managing to incorporate saxophones in a way that sounds measured and appropriately considered. The long fade section in particular could have been recorded by any number of legendary sixties "heavy" acts, and while "Hypnotized" plays, it's impossible to really get worked up about anything. Admittedly though, if you're in the wrong frame of mind it can occasionally be rather yawnsome at almost six minutes long.
