Records

Rip It Up, Issue 76, 1 November 1983, Page 18

Records

Peter Thomson

Style Council Introducing the Style Council Pol yd or Circumstance (and personal inclination) have seen Paul Weller growing up in public over the last six years. Each progression; from Toryism to Trans-Global Express', from 'ln the City' to 'Beat Surrender' and from that early, unlikely, fascination with mod styles, through a period of dourness to bringing us up to date - the studied sharpness of the Style Council. Style Council. It's a very youthful, naive thing. Reaching out for the best pieces, synthesising them into a Style. It's a much truer extension of Mod than simply, obviously, taking up the scooter/ parka/union jack package. Musically, this has meant taking sweet soul music, applying it in today's ways and tying it up with belief: "a promoted culture of sex, staged rebellion that stays, not 'settling down', replenishing ideals and moving upwards," as the sleeve says.

This mini-album bears the seductive single Long Hot Summer' (and a heavy-handed club mix of the same), a bare, happy acoustic little tune called Headstart for Happiness', the exuberant Speak Like A Child', the elegantly written 'Paris Match', keyboardist Mick Talbot's entertaining workout, 'Mick's Up' and a remixed Money Go Round'. This last manages to make very strong, very direct political statements while keeping a sense of humour something the Jam were never strong on. It also fair hustles along.

All of which would be fine were it not for a slight feeling that Weller is toying with other people's cultures and styles, taking only the style and not the substance. To his credit, he does it as a fan not a dilettante, unlike, say Bowie. Style is a wonderful thing, but Paul Weller must remember that Style 1 Is] Not ten t^dßHi The Style Council have yet:to make a truly great record but there's time. Russell Brown

Hunters and Collectors The Fireman's [Curse White Label Imagine the setting. Jagged lightning rips open the sky, thunder, bellows out roar on roar like some maddened beast. Ghastly flashes, crags and trees leap out of the murk on the harsh clarity of nightmare or fever. Cavorting shapes of weird noises emerge as if caught in some ritual of chant and grotesque dance. It is Hunters and Collectors' new album and it is called The Fireman's Curse. Let's roll this thunder.

Side One opens with 'Sway'; coyly, suggestively, the distinctive bass line begins to bite. Horns pour down, a curious but exquisite organ penetrates the spurring pellmell. Other-worldly noises and viscid bass populate 'Eggheart', interminglings of a lovely, wandering trumpet and organ accompany it. So far these two show off their panoply of talents

nicely so well carefully turn to Side Two.

The powerful and riveting Curse’ flows into the trill beginning of Fish Roar' to dissolve into ... nothing really. Blind Snake Sundae' offers a soothing, disquieting relief but 'Mr Right' is charmless. What is left is a delicate little piece of whimsy simply entitled Epilogue'. The needle clicked off. The skies were clear.

Impressions? Sometimes words rise above the thunderous brawling, either wailing or weaving to a stop or restarting in a completely opposite direction. Rhythm often dissolves into a tinkering stupor, so much so that at times I wonder why they don't shrivel up and become ammonites (a fossil) or something. Me, 1 suspect this white man's Aboriginal ethnic thingy but you may not. It's just that at times I find Hunters and Collectors are completely ridiculous. S.J. Townshend

Various Artists Hits and Myths 83 XSF Various ArtikJJHHRc Barking Up the Right Tree Ijayremmff/M As I recall, it . was the first Hits and Myths that began the succession of retrospective* NZ compilations. That record, containing the unavailable-for-ages 'Saturday Night Stay At Home', managed to stir some excitement. The third in the series is nothing to get excited about. It has been compiled, without much imagination, from the country "name" bands. Best track's are the 'Learning to Like Ourselves Again', the Crocodiles' Tears' and Dance Exponents' 'Victoria'. Bands like the Swingers and Hello Sailor are represented by tracks that certainly weren't their best.

Jayrem's record casts its net a little wider and is the better for it. It shares three songs with Hits and Myths but it also includes Herbs' superb French Letter', the Hulamen's inimitable Barking Up the Wrong Tree' and the uncompromising Unrestful Movements with Anti Trend'. Some of the songs chosen to represent groups are better too; 'Marsha' rather than Learning To ... ' for the Blams, 'Stars in My Eyes' rather than 'Days of Heaven' for the Meemees. It certainly has its letdowns, but on the whole a fair compilation. No Flying Nun of course. My only concern about these records is that they may act as a disincentive to buy the original singles. And that, in this country, is the last thing we need. Russell Brown Gang Of Four Hard EMI White funksters continue to take much flak from those who would accuse them of being pretenders. Wham and the Higsons have been prime targets and many also looked askance at the Gang of Four's initial venture into the genre, Songs of the Free. Personally, I was knocked out. Songs of the Free was a bold, admittedly often harsh and harrowing work, which broke some important new ground.

Hard extends further into funk territory, being recorded in

Canada and mixed in New York, | under the auspices [off Ron and Howard Albert. Drummer Hugo Burnham has been ditched andmo fulltime drum credit is given on I the album. The band now tours with ex Rumour man Steve Goulding. The sound is less aggressive this time,'compared with the abrasive,l metallic edge of Songs of the Free. String arrangements, a la Norman ! Whitfield, are often used, and Jon King's vocals are less strident, more refined. But, as the title implies, the band has far from gone soft. The emphasis is more on the rhythm section, with shining bass work from Sara Lee and Jon Astrop, who also contributes to the songwriting. The funk beat snaps and [pulsates, rather than bumps and grinds. Sophisticated, yes. But steamy as well. Lyrically, the songs are less worldly, more introverted* Insecurity in relationships, sexual politics, ‘ male/female arrogance and downright lies are all dissected. For, one of the year's great lines, how about: A man with a good car needs no justification Fate is in my hands and in'! the transmission. K'A*Man .With A Good Car' and 'Woman Town' would make a wonderful 12-inch. Black backup singers (including Chic's Alfa Anderson) give this band's sound another new complexion. Gang of Four are no pallid imitators. They may be a million miles from their roots now, but this doesn't make their sound any less valid. Duncan I Campbell Phil Judd Private Lives Mushroom .I. once knew this young lady who claimed Phil Judd was her second cousin. She never proved it but I kept telling her how superb his band, the Swingers, was. Would she listen? No.

Along came 'Counting the Beat' and everyone (even Australians) listened. Not before time. Around this stage my mother warned me: "Life is full of disappointments." Regardless, I still eagerly awaited the Swingers' triumphant return. Phew! World domination seemed miles away. An album that

sounded only occasionally like the band and a live show that rarely raised a sweat.

Private Lives began shortly afterwards. Judd broke up the Swingers but continued working in various studios with session musicians and a Swinger or two. A long silence, but worth the wait? Yes!

Eventually everyone will hear the snappy, summery single 'Dream'n' Away'. One of three tracks recorded at Hollywood's Sunset Sound Factory it's an escape route from all seriousness. Sun is high I'm lyin' low

Sure glad I'm not an Eskimo. While : ! I fl wasn't immediately convinced with the rest of the album, repeated listenings highlight Judd's unappreciated talents. When one considers the faceless nobodies who continue to breeze in and out of our lives, surely the verve and bounce of Judd's songs don't deserve to be ignored. Even though 'Colouring In' sounds suspiciously like a remake of 'Punch and Judy', it contains some home truths: No one seems to care Where's the atmosphere? Still life everywhere So stark, so dark, so very black Surrounded by grotesque I want picturesque Clean ': up this dreary mess With my be bop be bop Be bop bop This album smiles, widely and wildly. Alister Cain The Narcs and Coconut Rough Whistle While You Work CBS Live albums are oft liable to fall flat on their faces; but with the exuberance of the Narcs and the polished skill of Coconut Rough this one (third in the RWP Presents ... ) is a pleasant exception. ’ Anyone who's seen the Narcs ; over the last 12 months will be 1 familiar, with the material here and with Reid Snell's crisp production their side is a fine live souvenir of a simple but effective] band. The addition of keyboards has given the Narcs more depth and makes possible the variety here. The five songs! include their FM hit 'Stay Away', Tony Waine's slower Girl Next Door' (with some lovely keyboard embellishments from guest

Gerard Moody), the sing-along anthem 'Over My Head' and a rollickng Cold Chisel-type finale with Not the Girl'.

• Coconut Rough, despite being formed six . months ago fully deserve their ranking with NZ's finest. Visually, a treat and musically, full of. ideas and promise. Kicking off with 'Strip the Reptile', a keyboards-based instrumental that grows with repeated listenings, their side works through three other McLennan compositions and 'Move ll', an interesting (shades of the Blams) contribution from guitarist Mark Bell. Standouts are the hit single 'Sierra Leone' (faithfully reproduced) and the poppy encore 'Drawing Board'. Funky (thanks to bassist 'Choc') and inventive, this one-take live disc bodes well for future studio projects. The excellent cover, courtesy of Wayne Robinson, is the cream on a satisfying vinyl cake. Chris Caddick

King Sunny Ade Synchro System

Island The question to be answered now is whether African music will transcend its current trendiness with white European audiences, or retreat to its home. This album doesn't really help to answer that question.

Not that there's anything wrong with Synchro System. On the contrary, it's filled with dark mystery and romance, spiced with a big shot of pure joy. A worthy successor to Juju Music. But it's unlikely to convert anyone not already bitten by the African bug. If anything, this album is more traditional than its predecessor, relying less on electric instruments and more on the syncopated drumbeats. Listen to the opener, 'Synchro Feelings Mako', and you see where David Byrne got his ideas. It sounds effortless, until you try dancing to it and see how quickly you start to sweat. Once again, you have to rely on the feel of the songs to get any kind of message. Subtitles are not provided. 'Mo Ti Mo' and T Wele' have a tenderness that almost certainly make them love songs, while 'Penkele' and the title track are frenetic celebrations of the dance, the famous talking drums making dazzling conversation, echoed by the vocalists. Ade is apolitical, unlike fellow Nigerian Fela Kuti. His music portrays the brighter side of a very dark continent. Frankly, I'd welcome the release of Kuti's music here, to balance the picture. Nigeria is not an entirely nice place, and despotism is not solely the white man's prerogative. Meanwhile, King Sunny Ade reigns supreme, in a fascinating, albeit small, kingdom. Duncan Campbell

Various Artists Shazam Battle of the Bands Interfusion

I seem to remember that this night wasn't one of the most memorable I've had. Nevertheless here it is recorded for posterity. Let's begin on a bright note. The two tracks from Gisborne's Marching Orders are enjoyable without being absolutely sparkling, but it sounds like fun. They will no doubt improve as they have personality in abundance and youth on their side, and the craziest percussionist you'll ever see.

Moving Targets' main problem is a lack of identity, still they do try very hard and it's very easy to hum along with their track 'What Did I Say' even if it sounds a little too familiar. Stormbringer's contribution moves along with all the delicacy of a bulldozer and, at times, a tank. Blatantly sexist lyrics and borrowed riffs just reinforce the self parody that Heavy Metal seems to have gotten itself into. Oh, yeah, the song's called 'Self Destruct'. We live in hope. There are a whole host of bands just like Blue Rock, all over the country playing at 21sts, rugby club socials, etc. So it must be relatively easy for them to find work, dunno why. However, where Blue Rock really astound is in their lyrics "Hey baby let's go out tonight and have a real good time," wow! The White Boys are infinitely better than their one track 'What I Want' would indicate. Still the song sounds like it was actually written and it's played with a certain sense of feeling and meaning. Which brings me to Auckland Walk who sound very pedestrian indeed. Just what the hell are they on about here? Repetitious, meaningless drivel played with all the dynamics of a cake of soap. Repeat 'I Can't Help Dancing' at least 150 times and you'll know

what I'm on about. Yeah, I know they won, but recently Australia II won the America's Cup and that doesn't make me mad about Australians. Then just to round the record off nicely we have Screamin' Lord Schofield who makes my mum sound like Nick Cave. Full marks though to the people behind the whole thing, it's just a damn shame more of our really good bands weren't involved. Alister Cain The Ramones Subterranean Jungle Sire Just when the year's prizes looked like being wrapped up along come a bunch of veteran outsiders with their best blow since Leave Home.

It's clear enough that the Ramones never left home. Their cunningly crafted chainsaw pop and B-movie lyrical lobotomies have been closer to the heart and truth of teenage wildlife in America than any of their contemporaries. The discussion as to whether they're the original pinheads or geniuses masquerading as morons disappears as they hammer home three of their best insights into the psyche of the reject 'Outsider', 'Psycho Therapy' and the power chord lurch of Time Bomb', the most perceptive look at the mass murderer syndrome since Talking Heads' 'Psycho Killer'. Hanging out with the gang is brilliantly caught with their customary rush on 'ln the Park' and dopey love songs don't come any better than 'I Need Your Love', the easy balladeering of My Kind of A Girl' and the bizarre longings of 'Everytime I Eat Vegetables It Makes Me Think of You'.

Worth singling out for special mention is 'Somebody Like Me' which as well as being special in the music stakes, is as near to a Ramones' philosophy on life as you're gonna get, or need: I am just a guy who likes to rock and roll

I am just a guy who likes to get drunk

I am just a guy who likes to dress punk Get my kicks and live up my life.

Subterranean Jungle is an irresistible mix of 50s pop corn, sharp reports on the modern jungle and punk hyper-drive. It's the Ramones and rock'n'roll at their best. George Kay Bruce Cockburn The Trouble With Normal Big Time "Oh Canada," Joni Mitchell used to sigh; she and Neil Young both had to leave it in pursuit of international success. Bruce Cockburn stayed put and, although it's taken 14 albums (give or take a hit single in 79), The Trouble With Normal could finally be bringing it all back home for him. Certainly Normal's easily his strongest set to surface in these climes. Cockbum's writing is consistently more pointed, more poignant than previously, from the reflective beauty of 'Waiting For The Moon' to the powerful revolutionary thrust of Tropic Moon'. (The latter song, written after a recent trip to Central America, is attracting considerable attention and deserves more than any comparable Strummer/ Jones posturing.)

Cockburn's not without his humour either. Just when you're wincing at the title of 'Civilization And Its Discontents', he disarms you with a couplet like: I know a lot about alienated man

But we've all heard about as much of that as we can stand ... and sets it to an infectiously jerky Caribbean clockwork.

Vestiges of Cockburn's tendency to overwrite remain the title track's verbal scurrying for instance but this time out they're always offset by strong instrumentation. Again, the veritable image salad on Hoop Dancer' is chanted over swirling violin and a rhythm section that suggests how Talking Heads might have sounded as American Indians. Elsewhere soprano sax, piano and Cockburn's electric guitar solo to considerable effect. Musical styles range widely, absorbing and refracting influences from jazz, blues, reggae, rock, as well as Cockburn's own folksy roots. Top all this off with a series of engaging melodies there's even one tailored for pop radio and it is clear that, like fellow Canadians Mitchell and Young, Bruce Cockburn has the depth of talent to imbue the term 'singer/ songwriter' with continued immediacy and importance. Check him out.