I’m going to let you all in on a secret. For a few months now I have been conducting a social experiment. This experiment requires asking people the question “Do you like Devo?”, and then recording their answers. Analyzing the collected data has allowed me to separate the population into two distinct categories. We’ll call them Categories A and B just to keep things simple.
Category A consists of the people who seem almost offended by my question. They refuse to respond with a concise answer such as yes, instead going on at length about the “great” and “important” Devo. Reluctantly, I have been forced to stop a few of these marathon tirades when I ran out of tape in my voice recorder. These instances only seemed to fuel the proverbial fire however, normally resulting in the interviewees launching into yet another fiery string of statements containing adjectives such as “amazing”, “fantastic”, and “visionary”. Shockingly, although there is an almost overwhelming amount of passion on display in Category A, it seems that passion does not translate into a large percentage of the overall population.
Quite the opposite, Category B contains the vast majority of people interviewed. Striving again for simplicity I have lumped similar groups of responders together. Thus the people who responded to my question with “Who?” along with the people who had little working knowledge of the band, yet knew of their existence, are classified the same way. Below I have included a sample conversation which effectively simulates my exchange with one of the latter people.
“Do you like Devo?”
“Yeah, no. That song "Whip It" sucks. Oh, and those hats they wore in the video were soooo stupid.”
“I see.”
Admittedly I belong squarely in Category A, but I have tried to keep my personal feelings from affecting the experiment. My hypothesis is this. I believe that if a person from Category B actually sat down and listened to Devo’s new album Something for Everybody, I could ask them a second time whether or not they like Devo and their new response would be a resounding yes. Here is why. (Alright, that’s enough of the academic nonsense!)
Something for Everybody is a fantastic album that rocks from start to finish. How do I know? Easy. It makes me happy and invigorated every time that I listen to it. Not good enough? How about this. Even though there have been countless imitators, the band still manages to produce a sound that is unmistakably Devo. Guitars and synthesizers go to war with each other in a battle for supremacy alongside drums that alternate between sounding organic and computerized. The vocals are playful, sincere, and unique in this age of growlers or ultra-polished, vibrato leaden sound-alikes. And then there are the songs. Oh, the songs!
Opening salvo “Fresh” is a fine introduction to the album, but for my money the real show begins with track number two. “What We Do” serves as Devo’s mission statement, assuring the listener that they know exactly what they are doing with catchy mantra-like lyrics layered over pulsating synthesizers and a driving backbeat. More standouts quickly arrive with the dual threat of “Mind Games” and “Human Rocket”. “Mind Games” is so “Girl U Want” catchy it should be quarantined by the Center for Disease Control. “Human Rocket” begins with a pre-liftoff warm-up, quickly ignites the engines to build speed and energy, breaks through the atmosphere with a guitar solo, and finally deploys the parachutes to bring the listener back to Earth. Don’t feel a proper album is complete without a heartfelt ballad? Fear not my friends. “No Place Like Home” is there for you with it’s fatalistic social commentary evoking a range of emotions similar to the classic “Beautiful World”. Truthfully, picking a few songs to highlight from the album is tough as each one is memorable and strong.
The bottom line here is that everyone searching for a fun, high quality, engaging album need look no further. Take it from someone who was through being cool years ago. You may think you don’t like Devo, but after listening to Something for Everybody you may just find yourself ordering your very own energy dome (those stupid hats). Did you know that they come in blue now?
Pulling this EP from the stack and reading the artist name immediately conjured up some joke about Winnie the Pooh, but all humor was thrown out the window as I listened to this guys soulful approach on this four song mini epic. The first thing to know is that Tigger Clarkson can’t be pigeonholed into any particular genre. He uses elements of soulful R&B in his particular brand of rock n’ roll, but slips in little flourishes of jazz and funk, some heavy swamp blues, some alt-rock . . . mixing everything together to create one of the more enjoyable, and surprising, releases of the year. Opening track “Get Back To Me” refuses to have the listener walk away without swaying the hips or tapping the toes. Reminding me of later era Duran Duran with the soulful exuberance of Hall n’ Oates and sung by Seal, this song has all of those aforementioned elements screaming to be heard. It has a bit of a techno/electric feel to the drums, but the guitars mixed in have a touch of alternative distortion, which helps to give the sound some edge. Then, with the vocal performance, Tigger adds a vibe of that classic Philly soul sound. This is an addictive song and one that simply can’t be listened to more than once.
On the other side of Tigger’s songwriting spectrum, we have “Lies and Confessions” that I swear is a missing track from the latest Black Bone Child album. Stripped down and filled with a sludge-y swamp blues sound, this song is a rip roarin’ jamboree in some backwoods juke joint. Listen closely and you’ll hear the rain pitter-pattering one a hot tin roof while all inside the club are glistening in a coat of sweat. The bass drum is like thunder cracking in rhythmic time, the stuttering guitar lines like the rain crashing against the structure, the voice . . . oh Crom, that voice, is pure sexuality. Hot . . . steamy . . . filled with sultry swagger. “Blind Eye” and “Autokinesis” incorporate more of the 90’s alternative rock sounds, but Tigger does an excellent job of mixing in that rhythm and blues, and stuns the listener to comatose obedience with his voice. Can’t wait to hear a full length offering from this guy! - Pope
Now, I’m not one to normally celebrate my depression, or someone else’s depression, for that matter. But, in the case of The Sweet Kill, I might just twirl a noise maker around a couple of times. This 6 song EP looks to be a one man project and the brain child of one Pete Mills, who tackles the majority of the vocal duties and all of the instruments, with the exception of the drums. The songs contained within can be categorized as electronic, I guess . . . though I have a hard time with that classification because this stuff has a lot more soul than your traditional techno-infused electric music. Listening to this EP, I hear stuff that full on reminds me of the late 80’s, new wave polished goth scene. A scene made up of a lot of people who feared the sun and had a passion for dark clothing . . . and then get their freak on at some underground dance club with several hundred other like minded goth-y folk.
Every song on this disc has something to do with death. Suicide seems to be the ongoing theme, hence the title Suicide, but it’s not limited to self inflicted death. And throughout all the depressing subject matter, the music has a low end, danceable groove pushing it forward that one can’t help but feel the need to tap their toes or shake their ass to the thing. “Suicide Club” is an upbeat tune with a melody that immediately reminds me of New Order or Depeche Mode. That classic 80’s sounding electric drum and synth action makes me a little nostalgic and I find myself swaying in time with the rhythm. Mills’ voice has quite the range, powerful through the verses . . . in fact, a little gruff and aggressive, and then he shifts to a smoother quality in the choruses. He also does a great job of adding a little character to his performance by generating these little high pitched squeals in the midst of the more sultry lines, and I think this adds something fairly unique to the overall sound. “Night Terror Creeper” has a nice bass driven groove and the overall tone of this song has an ominous air. Mills does a great job of creating dark tension and still making it accessible.
“It’s A Good Day To Die” immediately makes me want to go clubbing in Europe. This song is full on up tempo and bouncy, and the overall mood of the song has a happier quality like all things are rosy. Then the chorus kicks in with its bubbly upbeat rhythm and rhyme, and we find out that today is a good day to die. If keeling over is this jolly, it’s no wonder why people commit suicide. They obviously know something that the rest of us have been missing. In all seriousness, I can’t help but love this song. The contrast of mood is cool with its darker lyrics and lighter musical style working in this odd yin-yang symmetry. This is a fun disc to be depressed to! - Pope JTE
Imagine if Frankenstein, Dracula, the Wolf-man, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon suddenly got Mohawks, pierced their cheeks, formed a band and threw all night, raving bon-fire beach parties. That’s a bit of a hint at what awaits you on this freakishly cool four-song EP from Italy’s The Doggs.
Blending a way-mutated sixties beach vibe with old horror film panache and both nostrils full of punky snot, The Doggs EP sounds like what’d happen if Johnny Rotten fronted the Cramps. Big, swooping, uber-cool, post-sixties bass lines lay down the backbone for the barely controlled phlegm that follows. Toss in some of the coolest, avante-punk saxophone work I’ve heard on an album in ages and those Johnny Rotten vocals and we’ve got ourselves a winner of alt-suave-garage-beach punk.
“Underground Drain,” is a bit of an inauspicious start. It’s got one helluva cool, sixties-spy film, bass line, some damn fine, swirling retro-beach organ, and that amazing sax wailing away. It’s also got the vocal that serves as the band’s mission statement. “We came from the underground drain/no hope to save our brain/we came from the underground drain.” But over all the song serves really as an intro to the freaky mutant crew you’re about to meet. The EP really takes off with the next track, “Kiss My Blood.” There, the full spittle of the Sex Pistols vocals rage in full effect. Some choppy punk guitar, sex sounds, and driving bass push this song over the edge. Here we get the full beauty of the rotten Cramps, in kitschy, ghoulish effect. “No Lights,” is a monstrously cool, post-swingin’ sixties retro-instrumental with that damn sax positively setting the tone over some wild wah’d out guitar. The hole shebang riding across a mountain of a steady bass line. While “Animal” brings back the punky rave-up with some tasty guitar licks and a super-swingin’ melody. Johnny Rotten’s back to amazing effect. . . and did I mention that sax? Seriously, this song is about as stylishly cool as you could imagine. A lava lamp party for the punky undead. Don’t miss it. -- Racer
Sometimes it’s amazing how much damage a name can do.
Back in the heady early days of punk and new wave, any number of bands emerged sporting names like Doug and the Slugs, Ian Drury and the Blockheads, or Eddie and the Hot Rods. It’s no surprise then that when Sniff ‘n’ the Tears made their way to the American shores they were immediately tossed in with that crowd and labeled a new wave act. I’ve even seen them referred to as one of the great “one-hit wonders” of the ‘80’s. This just couldn’t be more wrong.
First of all, the album came out in 1978, not 1980 and that’s an important distinction. Sniff ‘n’ the Tears were never a new wave band. They shared none of the hairdos nor sounds of Culture Club or Spandau Ballet. Rather, Sniff and his multi-talented batch of Tears bared far more similarity to some of the cooler, jazz-inflected guitar bands of the late seventies. Think early (pre-MTV, “Sultans of Swing”-era) Dire Straits or mid-period Steely Dan, and you’ll get a bit of the flavor. There were no heavy synths or programmed beats here. Sniff was a guitar band, first and foremost, and the three guitarists snake and weave their serpentine guitar parts like interlocking pieces of a jigsaw puzzle to produce some of the most impassioned, complex, and infinitely melodic rock of the decade. With a tone all their own, no one ever sounded like Sniff before, or since.
And the whole one-hit wonder part is pure crap also. Sure, in America they were best known for their relentlessly catchy hit “Driver’s Seat,” but that was far from the end-all of their career. Sniff’s next album, The Game is Up, may even eclipse the excellence of Fickle Heart, and the band went on to record several more successful releases in Europe. “Driver’s Seat,” isn’t even the best song on this album. But oh, what a song it is!
Kicking off with that crystal clear strummed acoustic guitar, it was clear this was a far cry from the electropop of bands like Depeche Mode. By the time that single snare pops in, I was already hooked. And that was before I even heard that massively low, processed guitar riff which forever sealed the deal. From there, the song is a masterpiece of pure pop precision. Listen as the guitars weave in and out, undulating around that incessant beat. Paul Roberts was an effective vocalist, his voice carrying a touch of disdain and apathy for his obtuse lyrics. But that’s not to say Roberts had nothing to say. Listen close and you catch a whiff that “Driver’s Seat” for all of it’s pop savvy and infectiousness, is really a political/spiritual song. Declaring loud and proud, that “There is no elite/just take your place in the driver’s seat.” The rise of the common man was a familiar theme for Roberts, taken to it’s ultimate on the latter song “Looking for You.”
But people didn’t love “Driver’s Seat” for its message; they loved it, and still love it, for its beat. It’s indefatigable beat married to that contagious chorus with the unforgettable deep harmony vocals. Try not to be blinded by all that and listen to the guitars, the glorious guitars.
As perfect a pop song as “Driver’s Seat” was, the following cut, “New Lines on Love,” showcases what the band was really about. Guitars sparkle and percolate, shimmering crisp tones dart in and out of deeper resonating passages. If Dire Straits had done this song following “Sultans of Swing” they would have been praised for their genius. A layer of melancholy hangs like a tapestry though Roberts’ vocals and searching lyrics. All wrapped in a never-ending melody and chorus.
“Carve Your Name on my Door,” is the only song that doesn’t work for me here. Too straight forward a soul/R&B song to bring out what made Sniff ‘n’ the Tears special. “This Side of the Blue Horizon,” brings back the winning ways, this time with a twist. A slow, piano-based blues ballad, Sniff brings in some tender slide guitar to really make the song squeal and moan. Roberts voice, gravelly and half stuck in his throat really shines here, purring like honey over sandpaper.
From there, the album is a non-stop, full-on winner. “Sing” brings a pulsating bass in amidst the dancing and electrifying guitar parts, with a drop dead chorus. “Rock and Roll Music” updates the 50’s rock sound for a with a rebels call of pure rock adrenaline. “Fight For Love,” swings with a loose rock abandon. “The Thrill of it All,” is simply spell-binding, guitars percolating in lighting flashes of interlocking electric harmonies. Roberts’ digs down into his vocal range here, bringing up a good bit of damaged vocal chords in the best performance on the album. All this happens over a gentle, neo-jazz beat, creating a sound that has never been replicated.
The guitars in “Slide Away” mesmerize me, spiraling and dancing, chopping and stringing notes together like pearls on a string. Anyone who ever thinks that Sniff had one good song needs to hear this. Again, if Dire Straits had done it, it’d have been a hit to rival any of their early songs.
As a re-issue celebrating the 30th Anniversary of Chiswick Records, Fickle Heart is available on CD in a digipack with two bonus songs. A slower, early version of “Rock and Roll Music,” which doesn’t add much and a dynamite, previously unreleased period track, “Morocco Bound.” This one’s a winner, piano weaving through the song taking the place of the traditional Sniff guitar. The song builds upon its jazzy structure to its harmony chorus, sounding like something that Steely Dan would have wished they’d recorded. A definite bonus track of class and depth.
I first heard “Driver’s Seat,” in the passenger of my best friend’s 1967 Mustang, speeding through the Tunnel on a trip to San Francisco. I was caught. Since then, I’ve made sure to pick up any Sniff I can find. Now, 30 years later, it all sound just as vibrant and powerful today. Unlike most of the ‘80’s one-hit wonder stuff” Sniff ‘n’ the Tears is absolutely timeless. One of my favorite albums of all time, then and now.
Over the last several years, much love has been showered upon the groundbreaking post-punk creation of Manchester’s Joy Division. Profoundly influential, their heritage can be found running through any number of modern hitmakers from the Killers to Interpol. I'm certainly someone who’s affection could be carved into the Joy Division bedpost like a lover's conquest, having spent many a night lost in their intimate embrace. But my immersion in their intense moodiness didn’t die with the passing of Ian Curtis. Like a lover on the rebound, I found just as much solace in the early, bass-heavy, doom laden strains of New Order. And even as the band evolved in tone, essentially creating techno pop in the process, I was still with them, sharing their sweaty sheets.
I'll never forget the first time I heard "Blue Monday" by New Order. That was techno even I, a confirmed rocker, could get into, with it's massively heavy bassline and darkly morose lyrics. Now it seems, the adulation that had been heaped onto Joy Division is flowing towards New Order as well, as a host of new releases dip into that familiar Manchester vibe.
Bad Lieutenant – Never Cry Another Tear
No story about the brave post-New Order world would satisfy if it didn’t start with this gem of a debut by Bernard Sumner and his new band, Bad Lieutenant. Joined by Phil Cunningham and Jake Evans, Sumner let’s loose for all the world to see that he has lost none of his pop genius over the years. I can say without a shadow of doubt that Bad Lieutenant is my favorite of all the former New Order band members’ subsequent projects.
Hearkening back to what made New Order so compelling in the first place, Bad Lieutenant bring an effortless flow of post-punk pop smarts to this album that it’s stunning. I was drawn into this disc by the comfortable familiarity of the sound, quickly followed by the realization that every thing I was hearing was totally fresh to my ears. Bad Lieutenant bring the guitar sound of old New Order to the forefront, allowing the synths to drift into the back. Electric 12-string sings and dances though the disc like streaks of light splitting the sky. The bass and beat are endless, relentless in their drive, moving the songs forward in large looping curves. And then there’s that voice, Sumner’s breathy, understated purr that graced so many songs that became the soundtrack of my college years.
“Sink or Swim” gets the show off to an immediate start. Following on the tail of an airy 12 string guitar intro, Sumner jumps right into the fray. “What you doing/with that stupid little girl . . .” riding across an undeniable melody, before the song breaks down to a pensive mid-tempo beat. Soaring and descending, immediately I’m caught up in the slipstream of every great New Order melody ever written, but encased in a totally fresh crystalline package. Guitars sing and chime, a touch of psychedelia added to the Sumner melancholy. Suddenly, I find I’m spinning around the melody and grace of the song like a satellite caught in a planet’s gravitational pull. I’m circling, I’m spinning. The song is orbiting . . . and everything just feels right.
Lest you think that Sumner and boys managed to pull one great song out of their pockets, “Twist of Fate,” follows, sounding even more aggressive and direct. Guitars layer in with added malevolence, the bass pulsates with a direct purpose. Here Sumner’s phrasing is more staccato, more intentional, adding an urgency to the song. All leading to the soaring of that chorus, and suddenly I’m orbiting Bad Lieutenant’s gravitational field again. This is pure pop heaven, a cosmos of aural delight. “Summer Days,” which follows next is perfect. Simply perfect.
With Bernard Sumner in the band, and his vocals so distinctive, it’s only natural that he become the focus of the band, but it ‘s got to be said that Bad Lieutenant are first and foremost a band. Each member added to the songwriting and without their individual contributions, like the stratosphere-reaching radiance of the 12-string guitar, Bad Lieutenant just wouldn’t be as compelling. As it is, this is one of my favorite pop records of the year so far. New Order fans should not miss this.
While my personal taste tends towards the earlier New Order material, in no way will I ever deny the pop brilliance of their Low Life and later material. And that’s the era that Kites With Lights explores in this infinitely listenable 5-song Ep. Synthesizers build in layer upon layer, sequencers trace across synthetic beats, vocals intimate out in hushed, monitored tones, while a brooding darkness lurks throughout. The overall result is stunningly familiar and warmly comfortable without ever seeming contrived or derivative.
Essentially a one-man act, Kites With Lights, brings out the best of the Low Life-era with it’s definitive synth lines, and plodding bass runs. For an album so synth heavy, it still retains a subtle organic feeling, mostly coming from the evocative nature of the vocals and harmonies. The beats, clearly techno, avoid all the pitfalls of falling into trance territory with it’s mind-numbing monotony. Here, like on the title track, the tone is more subdued, somber, but still hypnotic in effect. Each of the five tracks are mini-moments of synth pop delight. Any fan of “Bizarre Love Triangle” will find much to love here.
Coming to us from the newly discovered (my new discovery) UrbanTorque Label, Fear of Night infuse their post-New Order electro pop with the flavoring of many of the best of the ‘80’s techno bands. Hints of the melodic candy of Duran Duran courses through the sequencer/synth drive of “Optomistic,” a song that makes it impossible not to move at least one part of your body in it’s pulsating beat. “Fear of Night,” captures the essence of early Depeche Mode in it’s malevolent flavor. Brewing over a smoldering mid-tempo beat, the synths surround the melody in syncopated harmony.
“Lowest Common Denominator,” is pure post Low LifeNew Order married to a vocal tone and melody taken from a long lost, never-before-heard, early Tears For Fears outtake. Absolutely, this is a moment of pure synth pop perfection, keeping its tone dark enough to avoid ever becoming dismissed as ear candy. And that’s what Fear of Night does so well. Grabbing it’s influences in synthesized bites and downloading them into their own processor of musical RAM, manufacturing an electropop cyborg of the familiar and the new. If you’ve ever longed for the days when synth pop seemed exotic and new, don’t be afraid of the night.
No mention of this post-New Order lovefest would be complete without bringing to your attention Ceremony: A New Order Tribute, a two-disc Deluxe package of New Order Cover songs all for the benefit of Factory Records Maestro, Tony Wilson. Wilson, who passed in 2007, would’ve turned 60 this year. A legendary figure in the Manchester music scene, Wilson’s legacy continues to bring music into peoples lives, and a portion of the proceeds of this disc will go to The Salford Foundation Trust’s Tony Wilson Awards, which benefits children and young people who demonstrate a special talent or ambition in the arts.
For this disc, some of the best of the new movement of post-New Order bands have been assembled to lend their touch to the band’s vast catalog. If you read the Kites with Lights review above, you won’t be surprised that they’re here with a blistering version of “Dream Attack.” Rabbit in the Moon take on an indy rock blitz through “Blue Monday.” Ripple favorites, Kingsbury, make an appearance with their take on “This Time of the Night.” Detachments tackle “The Perfect Kiss,” while The Dark Esquire lend their sound to “Temptation.” There’s even a moving version of “Ceremony,” performed by Yes But No, two sisters aged 10 and 13, who benefited from Wilson’s legacy.
A worthy cause. Some of your favorite songs. What’s not to like?
Bad Lieutenant – Never Cry Another Tear
Kites With Lights – The Weight of Your Heart
Fear of Night – S/T
