R: Todavía no hemos disfrutado el Primavera Club y ya tenemos aquí la primera gran tanda de confirmaciones para el Primavera Sound 2010 (que se celebrará del 27 al 29 de mayo del año que viene). Por respeto al hecho de que nuestros lectores puede que no sean tan frikis como nosotros, hemos puesto de foto de este post a la que, sin duda, es la confirmación bombazo: Panda Bear. Está claro que Merryweather Post Pavilion estará en las listas de discos de lo mejor de este año, pero el hecho de que el debut de Panda Bear fuera de nuestros preferidos el año pasado y que, por desgracia, todavía no hayamos podido catarlo en directo justifica plenamente la expectación. Ahora, si nos preguntáis sinceramente a quién nos gustaría poner en la foto de aquí al lado nos veremos obligados a responder que a… ¡Bis! Sí señor. Y es que los escoceses autores del mítico Eurodisco se van a reunir para que podamos bailotear semejante temón bajo las estrellas primaverales. Una vez pagado el peaje friki, sigamos con el resto de confirmaciones (a las que no les falta chicha): a los ya anunciados Pavement y Pixies hay que sumar nombres como Wilco (que a nosotros nos interesan bien poco, pero que son un vende entradas seguro y es inteligente tenerlos en cualquier cartel), La Leyenda del Tiempo (homenaje al disco de Camarón), The xx (que, si siguen afinando el formato de trío, pueden protagonizar uno de los momentos del festival), The Fall (Mark E. Smith vale la compra de cualquier entrada), The New Pornographers (que siempre le animan a uno la noche), Hope Sandoval (con nuevo disco bajo el brazo que tendremos que sopesar antes de saber por dónde pueden ir los tiros de su actuación), Wild Beasts (si todavía no te has rendido a su magnífico Two dancers, su actuación será la oportunidad definitiva), The Antlers (emo-prog que en unas semanitas aconsejamos degustar en su gira por salas pequeñas), Joker (¡dubstep!), Delorean, Dum Dum, The Bloody Beetroots, Here we go magic y Ganglians. Pero vamos, que si incluso después de leer tres veces esta lista sigues (como nosotros) en shock por lo de Bis, te aconsejamos que le des al play del video que sigue a este texto y vayas preparando el grito de guerra para el Primavera Sound 2010: ¡Euroooooodiiiiscooooooo!

Proof that he is indeed the one who stamps on all ages -

What You Need - A severed foot on a plate

From 1485. This is presumably the period he met Dr Johann Faust (1480-1540-ish), as related in that piece of documentary journalism Dktr Faustus -

J’ai toujours un peu de mal à écouter certains des albums du groupe de Mark. E. Smith en entier mais la compilation ‘Totally Wired’, qui regroupe les enregistrement réalisés pour le label Rough Trade, est un petit bijou. Un concentré de morceaux punks déglingués et frénétiques traversés d’éclairs pop foutraques. Un must !

ahh…Santa..put it back Santa…I don’t want it

and another incarnation

/ Selective memory, Dishy, 1995

Before they decided they’d be better off making a fresh start as the Bitter Springs, Last Party recorded two final singles for the fledgling Dishy label, also home to the Hellfire Sermons.  After the epic double A side of ‘UCIT’ / ‘Fax me wacko Jackseed’ (whose opening lines – ‘It’s a boy, Mrs Jackson; another boy…’ – confirm that yes, you-know-who is its subject) came ‘Selective memory’, typically Last Party with its meandering lead guitar cutting a scythe through an underlying bedrock of fuzz and in its constantly quizzical, fearless lyricism.  Simon Rivers is after all the man who sang, ‘So now I have to work for my erections / but I know how everything’s changed / in the months leading up to an April May June July August surprise surprise election’.

He is often an undeniably angry songwriter.  Occasionally it’s hard to work out what he’s livid about.  Take ‘Fax me wacko Jackseed’ – even after all this time, I can’t work out if he’s angry with Mr and Mrs Jackson, or with the wacko their son became, or at his own songwriting insignificance when set against the mad enormity of mega-stardom and the potential for abuse of power that comes with it.  Or all of those things, and more.  ‘Have you ever met the Sandwich family?’ he says at the end of ‘Fax me’, apropos of apparently nothing.  You’re never quite sure that it’s supposed to make sense; somewhere between Joycean stream of consciousness and Barney Sumner scribbling out a lyric five minutes before putting his vocal down on a tape which contains the otherwise perfected sounds of New Order, Simon Rivers lies.

Last Party’s music always suits Rivers’ moods, whether that’s the rage of ‘Fax me’, the reflections of ‘Selective memory’ or the tragicomic tone of ‘English road film’.  There are always tunes a postie might whistle on his or her round, and as many hooks as jokes.  ‘English road film’ opens with a gag: ‘I was addicted to Cola, so I switched to caffeine-free’ / ‘now I’m on eighty cans a week’.  Of course, the concept of an English road film is in itself a joke – in whichever direction we go, the road runs out after a day’s driving at the very most, and then you’ve reached the sea.  There are no endless space between towns, and our dereliction is of a different order to the tumbleweed romance found during a coast to coast trip across the States.  The tone of melancholy Simon Rivers offers up ‘English road film’ reflects that feeling of being hemmed in by the boundaries of our small island, and of being at the mercy of the weather patterns that result when warm tropical winds meet cold polar air.

When I wrote about Last Party twenty years ago, I called Simon Rivers a ‘southern Martin Bramah’, the reference twice leading back to the Fall – Bramah was of course an original member before forming the Blue Orchids, while the Jazz Butcher song I also invoked was ‘Southern Mark Smith’.  Would Simon Rivers have felt empowered to become the kind of lyricist he did without the guiding light and shade of Mark E.’s sarcasm and vitriol?  If Mark E. hadn’t existed, would have been necessary to invent him in the form of Simon Rivers, and might it be Last Party who ended up recording a score of Peel sessions rather than the two they did?  The second Peel session was as good as any recorded in 1989, but none of the songs – ‘Purple Hazel’, ‘Full English breakfast’, ‘Platforms and trains’, ‘Creature lake’ – made it onto the following year’s Love handles LP, and only the last of the four has appeared since.

Live, Last Party were a furiously comedic, comedically furious bunch, with Simon Rivers even more energetically engaged than he sounds on record.  There were two great LPs, Porky’s range and Love handles, though the latter was contained within what must be ranked as a serious contender for the worst sleeve ever, and had a muffled and murky production which detracted from the excellence of the songs.

The download edition of Cacophony on Port Hampton: singles and rarities 1985-1995 is exceptionally good value – at £5.99 for 34 tracks, it’d be rude not to.  Last Party never released a duff single, and the B sides are almost all up to scratch too.  The rarities include a bunch of songs that might have formed the bulk of a decent third LP, but sadly neither of those Peel sessions.

Frustrated at how they were perceived, Last Party decided to reinvent themselves, and from 1996 set out their stall as the Bitter Springs.  But that’s another story, though one not so different as a name change might suggest.

• Last Party – English road film
• Last Party at A jumped-up pantry boy
• Bitter Springs MySpace

A rewarding piece, I thought, in today’s Guardian, by Lynsey Hanley, about the decline of Working Mens’ Clubs, and the style of amateur singer to whom they used to provide a home (it’s here – Tonight\’s special turn ).

In it, she quotes from Richard Hoggart’s  The Uses of Literacy :

“Hoggart termed it the ‘big dipper’ style of singing, or ‘the verbal equivalent of rock-making, where the sweet and sticky mass is pulled to surprising lengths and pounded; there is a pause in which each emotional phrase is completed, before the great rise to the next and over the top.

The result is something like this: You are-er the only one-er for me-er/ No one else-er can share a dream-er with me-er/ Some folks-er may say-er …’”

I have often wondered what it was that prompted  Mark E. Smith of the Fall to develop his distinctive style of vocal delivery, which involved appending an -er, or possibly an -ah to the end of every other word, but I think this suggests one explanation.  Whether he was inspired directly by Hoggart’s book, or had just spent a great deal of time in Working Mens’ Clubs as  a child, I cannot say.  Both are equally possible.

An illustration of the Mark E. Smith club style here – Totally Wired - for those who might not have previously been aware of it.

It’s fun to listen to Adam and Joe podcasts on my iPod, not only for the obvious reason that it’s hilarious, but also because I find it quite fun to play a little game with myself, where I try to laugh as little as possible, and also because when I do laugh it’s invariably when someone is walking past and it looks like I’m laughing at them. This can be fun when there are so many awful freshers around, and I like to think that their self confidence crumbles under my snickering, although of course it probably doesn’t.

Anyways, here’s a sort of bizarre clip from the TV show what they did, with Mark E Smith appearing on Vinyl Justice:

He gets pretty violent, as you can probably see. I feel pretty bad for A+J, because even though they seem to cope with it quite well, I think they are the kind of guys who don’t respond very well to confrontation, and are probably therefore quite scared and intimidated.

In a side note, when we were doing the pub quiz last week, someone had the team name “Steven!”, and so I dutifully shouted out “just coming!” when they got called up to receive some sort of prize.

Yeah, it was great.

By Jason Diamond

Reunions are sometimes inevitable, as is the talk of why the band reuniting decided to get back together after how ever many years.  As the fans of these artists, we can only really hope it’s for all the right reasons, and the bundle of money we will pop out to see said reunions will be worth it.

We have 60’s obscure folk singers come back to more attention than they ever had back in their heyday, 70’s punk bands still spouting off the same rebellious lyrics to a crowd of teenagers who might not even be able to fathom exactly what “Alternative Ulster” even means, and we have 80’s bands touring the “oldies” circuit, sometimes playing their one-hit-wonders twice in a set.  As of recently, we have seen groups from the 90’s indie underground pop back up to acclaim in  a blog-fueled world that they may not have had fifteen years ago.  My Bloody Valentine had the hype, but would they have played top of the bill at Coachella in 1991?  Did people really care about Polvo as much as they do now?  Jesus Lizard, okay, well, they have always had their core of people who want to see David Yow do things that would turn Iggy Pop white (myself included), but Pavement reuniting is an entirely different bag than all of them.  The equal level of fanaticism and disdain this band has gained is almost second to none of their contemporaries, and whether they are reuniting to pay off home loans or because they genuinely feel like they have unfinished buisness is something we may never know.  But who really cares anyway?  In 2010 when the band take the stage in Central Park, as long as they play all our favorite songs, those of us who love the band will be able to sing, and in many cases of Malkmusian crooning, stretch the cryptic lyrics into the summer night, and I think we will be pretty satisfied – even if the band go out the back stage door with bags of money, looking like indie rock Monopoly men.

I’ve always had a theory about Pavement fans, and that is unlike almost any other band I can think of, each individual fan has not just a specific song they relate to, but one of cryptic plays on words that Stephen Malkmus did better than anybody since Mark E. Smith* of The Fall.

With that in mind, I decided it was an appropriate time to test my theory about Pavement lyrics, and after asking a dozen or so people I like and whose opinions I respect, it shocked me a bit that with the exception of two folks picking the same song, nobody picked the same set of lyrics.  Below are a few.

“did you see the drummer’s hair!” From the song “Cut Your Hair” picked by Vincent Cacchione from the band Soft Black

“And the check when it arrived, we went dutch dutch dutch!” From the song “Shady Lane”, picked by Jesse Sposato of Sadie Magazine

“pick out some Brazilian nuts for your engagement” From the song “We Dance” picked by Brad Haggert of Crystal Stilts

“I don’t need your summary acts / To get into the narrative age”
[which I always thought said: “I don’t need your summer reacts
to get into the narrative aim…” from “Old to Begin”, picked by Ari Messer, contributing editor at The Rumpus

“Someone took…in these pants” from “Shoot the Singer”, picked by Jens Carstensen of The Giraffes

“You’ve been chosen as an extra in the movie adaptation of the sequel to your life.” From the song “Shady Lane”, Sarah Pollock from 826NYC

George Chen of Zum picked some in-between live song banter that Malkmus was/is famous for:

“This one is from the Fab Four from Liverpool – Echo and the Bunnymen.”

James Yeh of Gigantic Magazine displayed the kind of fandom of somebody that takes the music of Pavement quite seriously:

re: favorite pavement lyric: Hmm, that’s a good question! Well the one that’s at the front of my “hopefully one day will be published novel-in-stories thing” is from “Spit on a Stranger”:

“Honey I’m a prize
And you’re a kitchen
We make a perfect match”

This is what I misheard for years. As you may already know, the actual lyrics are:

“Honey I’m a prize
And you’re a catch
And we make a perfect match”

Which obviously I don’t like nearly as much. If we’re talking about something I like, as was originally intended, I guess it would be from “Gold Soundz”:

“So drunk
In the August sun
And you’re the kind of girl I like
Cause you’re empty
And I’m empty
And you can never quarantine the past”

And finally, from a guy who wrote what could be (in my mind) considered one of the finest pieces on Malkmus buddy/cohort/sometimes bandmate, David Berman (July/August ‘09 issue of The Believer), chimed in. Justin Taylor beaking it down via e-mail:

1) from Gold Soundz- “So drunk in the August sun, and you’re the kind of girl I like, because you’re empty, and I’m empty” This doesn’t need explaining, right? Some of the other ones do.

(2) “Box Elder”- pretty much the whole song is amazing, because the lyrics are so plainspoken and raw (which is relatively rare for Malkmus) and articulated in that clear, rising voice: sonorous as a lullabye over the strummed fuzz. But I’d like to pinpoint two parts of the song that seem like the linchpins of its success. The first is “Wasn’t the question you asked me / It wasn’t the answer I gave / that made me feel like I was on a train.” It’s just genius, the idea that “I am on a train” could be a *feeling* in the context of a relationship-conversation, and of course the notion is couched in the double-dismissal that neither question nor its answer (neither of which the listener is privvy to) are what triggers the feeling. Then there’s the song’s refrain, which is a very hard thing said plainly and with full confidence, something we’ve all wanted to say at one time or another, but probably only ever choked out of our mouths when it wasn’t true- “I’ve got a lot of good things coming my way, And I’m afraid to say that youre not one of them.”

(3) “Summer Babe”- “I saw your girlfriend and she was eating her fingers like they’re just another meal.” Yeah, we all saw that girl, Steve. And we wondered why the fuck she wasn’t OUR girlfriend…but then we realized that we actually kind of were glad she wasn’t.

(4) “Blue Hawaiian”- the whole first verse:

“A welcome to my friends:
This house is a home and a homes where I belong
Where the feelings are warm and the foundations are strong
If my soul has a shape, well, then it is an ellipse
And this slap is a gift
cause your cheeks have lost their lustre”

Holy shit! It’s Malkmus-as-Bitch-Goddess. It’s like a glimpse into the alternate universe where he’s a tart-tongued drag queen doing piano burlesque at Marie’s Crisis in the West Village. Except, you know–literary, kind of, still.

(5) “Starlings of the Slipstream”- The whole song is a great example of his *other* compositional method, where instead of nasty emotional jabs and one-liners, he allows the sounds of words to generate the ideas and images and lines. In verse one there are the “starlings in the slipstream,” which I can only assume he made up because he liked how it sounded (or saw some news article about birds riding air currents? who knows?) but then he thinks outloud that “the language of influence is cluttered with hard c’s” which leads him to the “spycam” he claims to have put in a sorority, which leads him to the priceless second refrain: “Darlings on the split screen.” It’s a totally beautiful sentence, but also utterly bizarre, and almost totally meaningless outside of the immediate context of the song (is he thinking of the original Revenge of the Nerds here? Or is he actually just riffing on the sounds of refrain #1?). Anyway, the thought of all the naked girls on camera (this is still a pre-internet world Malk is writing in) reminds him of the myth that “there’s no women in Alaska,” which in turn suggests something even more intellectually dubious- “There’s no creoles in Vermont,” which somehow brings him around to the first unequivocally True thing he’s said since the song started: “There’s no coast of Nebraska.” This is the heart of Pavement right here, isn’t it? Brilliant nonsense smartly declaimed–and American through and through.

See?  People take this shit seriously.

Like Taylor, I’ve got my moment with “Summer Babe” and “Box Elder”, except when I hear: “Every time I turn around I find I’m shot” in S.B,  I feel like that could be my own motto for any uncomfortable moment (there are many of these).  When Stephen M. waxes about how he had to “get the fuck out of this town” in “Box Elder”, that quixotic desire to leave the hustle and bustle out of New York takes over.  Not sure if I ever will, but if a song could empower me to do it, that is the one.  In “Silent Kit” he asks us not to “listen to the grandmother’s advice about us”, and it makes me think of a cryptic take on one of the greatest rock n’ roll love songs ever: Big Star’s “Thirteen”. Alex Chilton sings: “won’t you tell your dad, get off my back”, from the perspective of a teenager who just wants his music, and his love, to be understood.  If you take the time and place of the Malkmus lyric (1994), when the band had established themselves as a weird underground phenomenon — who people either loved or hated — it sounds like Pavement saying this is the band we are, this is what we do, and we don’t care what the older punks think, or if the indie snobs call us sell-outs.

But, if I had to pick a single lyric that meant the most to me, it’s from one of the bands biggest hits, “Range Life”:

“I want a range life, if I could settle down, then I would settle down.”

Malkmus,  now in  his forties, living in the Pacific Northwest with his wife and two kids may have settled down, and is leading the ideal life.  A solo album (with a pretty solid backing band) every year, a tour here and there, and now, for whatever reason, he got the old band back together.  To me, that song, and those specific words above, are an anthem to go beyond the facade of whatever scene or sound you think you need to fit into, because at the end of the day, you probably just want to retire, and take it easy.  In the case of Pavement, they did just that, but figured one last time to let us all get our kicks couldn’t hurt anybody.

And maybe making some money while doing it isn’t so bad either…

*possibly someone who has more disdain for the reunited band, Mark E. Smith once said “It’s just like music when you reckon it up. It’s like listening to Pavement: it’s just The Fall in 1985, isn’t it? They haven’t got an original idea in their heads.”

The Kevin Cummins photography exhibition in the Northern Quarter is brilliant.  If you like Manchester music or even if you just like photography, check it out at the Richard Goodall Gallery on High Street before it closes on 26th September.

The exhibition is called MANCHESTER: Looking for the Light Through the Pouring Rain.  It features Cummins’ photographs of Manchester’s music scene taken over a period of more than 30 years.   It coincides with the release of his book of the same name. 

I was an avid reader of the NME in the 1980’s and Cummins’ band photography was one of the standout features of the music paper.   In fact, my first post for the Forever Manchester blog featured his brilliant front cover of the Stone Roses drenched in paint.

That picture (taken at a studio in Stockport, I think) is one of the 50 on display in the gallery.  Others feature Joy Division, The Fall, Buzzcocks, The Smiths, Happy Mondays and Oasis. 

Of these, the pictures of The Buzzcocks are probably the best.  Those of the Happy Mondays probably the weakest – not much material to work with there, let’s face it.  The cover shot of the book is an early snap of Morrissey, but it doesn’t grab me.  

Occasionally, an out-of-town act gets a look-in too, and the picture of a young Madonna at the Hacienda is wonderful, as is the one of The Clash playing at Belle Vue – yes, The Clash really played at Belle Vue. 

I’m probably drawn to these shots because of the crowd appearing as a backdrop and helping to date and place the picture in context.  If I recall correctly, the crowd visible behind Madonna are all static blokes with bad 80’s haircuts.  The Clash in the late 70’s obviously inspired a more dynamic response.

The Electric Circus, Collyhurst (not one of Kevin's shots!)

The pictures outside the Electric Circus in Collyhurst are also brilliant.  It is 1977 and the crowd on their way to see The Ramones have long hair and a complete lack of punk-rock regalia – yes, The Ramones really played in Collyhurst.  The shot includes a Hillman Imp and two lads offering a V-sign to the would-be David Bailey – perfection!

For my favourite shot though it is back to the Stone Roses – although they are not actually in it.  Cummins has taken a sensational shot of the crowd at Spike Island.  He has captured so much movement that the picture gives the impression that the crowd are dancing/girating at an incredible speed.  It reminds me of a C17 painting of the souls of humanity consigned to hell on judgement day and trying to escape from the burning pit.  But then, thinking about it, Spike Island really was that good!

Nice one Kevin.

Chris

A great accompaniment to Kevin Cummins’ book is John Robb’s The North Will Rise Again, published earlier this year.  John Robb relates the experiences of those that lived and breathed the Manchester music scene from 1976 based upon interviews with them.  One of the contributors is Kevin Cummins who is quoted as saying; ”In Manchester we weren’t dressed up like London punks.  At the time we were wearing old school shirts, cutting the tie shorter and writing slogans in biro on the shirts”.

.

Au moment où je termine les Clés du rock – 7 – sur the Fall voici que ce disque arrive sur mon bureau. Je n’ai pas pu résister à vous le proposer en Chouchous. 

Mark E. Smith and Ed Blaney “Smith and Blaney”
Le chanteur de the Fall et Ed Blaney l’ancien manager du groupe se réunissent pour un cd principalement guitare-chant. Mais attention, vous savez maintenant de qui on parle ! Donc, ne vous attendez pas à un disque classique. Dès la première plage, on est décoiffé par des machines en boucles menées bon train et une voix sous-produite, après ça se calme avec une cover du Velvet Underground “Real Good time Together”. Guitare acoustique, voix, rengaines de vieux briscards, d’anciens complices, avec samplings, effets sur les guitares, boites à rythmes mais aussi bruits de vagues et cuicuis d’oiseaux, enregistrements d’ambiances. Un cd rugueux, de la matière à l’état brut. Moments acoustiques ou plus bruitistes qui accompagnent  les vocaux du chanteur. La pochette est réalisée par Pascal Le Gras.

Mais qui est Pascal Le Gras ?
Peintre et vidéaste français,dont le travail a toujours été étroitement lié à la musique. Notamment en réalisant des pochettes de disque. La fameuse chaussette de Henry Cow c’était lui. Il travaille depuis très longtemps avec the Fall. Il a réalisé la plupart de leurs pochettes. Pour en savoir plus

Groupe rattaché au mouvement punk, fondé en 1977 à Manchester par Mark E. Smith, leader auto-proclamé à vie et seul membre permanent du groupe. En effet, pour un oui, pour un non, il vire les musiciens.  Malgré son caractère extrêmement irascible, cet homme est très talentueux et prolifique. Il a induit une force et une personnalité à son chant et à ses compositions. Phrasé monocorde, textes misanthropes et politiquement engagés, voix nasillarde, un air de je-m’en-foutiste anarchiste, sans compter ses références à la littérature – the Fall d’après La Chute de Camus-.

Ils ont une discographie de quelques 80 cd’s à la médiathèque, comprenant leur discographie officielle augmentée de b-sides, d’inédits et de nombreux live dont le coffret Peel Sessions.  Il faut dire que John Peel était un fervent admirateur du groupe.  Pour la petite histoire : il y a quelques années, je suis allée voir the Fall en concert au VK, et ils ont eu le culot de re-faire en rappel un titre qu’ils venaient de jouer un quart d’heure avant ! Quel type ce Mark  !

Maintenant, quel disque clé choisir parmi cette incroyable discographie ?

“Live at the Witch Trials” : 1979. Ils ont déjà enregistré quelques titres chez John Peel, mais ceci est leur premier véritable album.  Le disque a été réalisé en deux jours, ils ne font donc pas dans la fioriture ! Une batterie épileptique, quelques morceaux speedés, une grosse basse,  des guitares acides et dissonantes, des claviers pop, et ce phrasé particulier que l’on trouve encore aujourd’hui chez the Streets ou Arctic Monkeys. On sent que Smith est fan de krautrock et du Velvet.  Ah, et puis…. ce disque  n’est pas live !

“Dragnet” : 1979. Titre paru quelques mois après “Live at…”. Un disque pour l’exemple. Un son tellement cru,  presque lofi, enregistré à l’arrache. A tel point que les propriétaires du studio d’enregistrement  vont tenter d’en interdire la sortie par peur de mauvaise publicité pour leur studio.

“Bend Sinister” : 1986. Titre tiré d’un roman de Nabokov. Voici peut-être un très bon album pour pénétrer l’univers du groupe qui s’ouvre à des compositions un peu plus pop. Mr Pharmacist, une reprise des The Other Half qui parle de narcotiques, sujet qui concerne Mark E. Smith de près, se retrouve même au hit parade. L’entêtant Dktr. Faustus, avec une voix complètement sous-produite, le sautillant Shoulder Pads. Bref beaucoup de bons titres sur cet album.

“Hex Enduction Hour” : 1982. Ils sont dans une période de production plus déjantée, et rien-à-foutre-du-succès entamée avec ” Grotesque” en  1980. Ils produisent  un son rugueux, garage, post-punk. “Hip Priest” long soliloque du chanteur soutenu par quelques coups de batterie où  une guitare énervée intervient tout à coup pour ensuite revenir au calme du début. Ou sur “Grotesque” en 1981,  ”The NWRA”  longue plage répétitive et entêtante où la partie vocale  touche plus au spoken word qu’à la chanson. Ici il n’y a aucune fanfreluche.   C’est sans doute leur période la plus osée, et aussi celle qui a influencé pas mal de futurs groupes.
Il ne faut pas oublier qu’au même moment Duran Duran et Spandau Ballet sont au sommet de leur forme !  La vague néo-romantique bat son plein en Angleterre. (voir http://blogs.lesinrocks.com/musique/?p=173 ).

“Code : Selfish” : 1992. Avec ce cd the Fall, qui jusque là hésitait à intégrer vraiment de l’électro dans ses compos, saute à pieds joints dans l’utilisation de ces outils du diable. Ce changement est dû à l’arrivée ? ou à l’engagement ? de Dave Bush et ses machines.  Les textes grinçants sont toujours d’actualité écoutez “Married, 2 Kids” ou “Return” qui a certainement inspiré  des groupes comme LCD Soundsystem.  Ce n’est peut-être pas un disque 10/10 mais beaucoup aimeraient faire un cd de cette qualité !

A partir de là,  ils restent prolifiques, et sortent en moyenne un album studio par an, sans compter tous les live. Aussi, il est vrai qu’au bout du compte même s’ils sont une des pierres d’angle du rock, après autant d’années d’existence, ils ne sont plus vraiment un groupe d’avant-garde. The Fall a continué son petit bonhomme de chemin, suivi par une pleïade de fans qui ne les laissent pas tomber, les suivent en tournée…

Mais dans la foulée, ils sortent quand même de bons disques, il faut bien l’admettre. J’ajoute ceux-ci qui en valent peut-être bien d’autres :  “The Infotainment Scan”: 1993.  Avec une reprise de “Lost in Music” de Sister Sledge ou  ”Middle  Class Revolt” : 1994.

” “Fall Heads Roll” : 2005.   Le train-train continue jusqu’à cet album assez vigoureux. Une section rythmique imparable, un Mark E.Smith qui mâche de plus en plus ses mots. La première plage fait un peu peur, mais très vite ils retombent sur leurs pattes, il n’y a qu’à écouter “Blindness” et les quatre mêmes accords de basse pendant sept minutes !

Pour terminer :

Un bon mot de Mark E.Smith : “Etre dictatorial est la seule façon d’avancer, je veille à ce que personne ne prenne ses aises, ou ne devienne bon musicien.”

PS : Mark E. Smith a également sorti des cd’s de spoken words et il a collaboré à divers projets initiés par des musiciens liés à la musique électronique.
Spoken Words :
“Post Nearl”, “Pander, Panda, Panzer” “Smith and Blaney” – duo avec Ed Blaney l’ex-manager du groupe.
Collaborations :
“Plug myself in” - un maxi avec D.O.S.E
Tromatic Refflexions” – avec Von Südenfeld qui n’est autre que Mouse on Mars.

Mark E. Smith, 1984, por Michael Pollard (www.michaelpollard.co.uk)

Os que acompanham o The Fall já sabem do show de rádio que o site não oficial publicou, Creatures You Never Knew About, transmitido pela Greenwich Radio, em 1983. Nele, Mark E. Smith toca uma seleção de músicas, conversa com o DJ e lê alguns poemas, porém, acima de tudo, mostra um pedaço de seu processo criativo. De tudo que é difícil apreender do inglês característico de MES, um dos conteúdos mais valiosos deste achado é o Guia para Escrever que o músico (?) lê no primeiro quadro do programa.

Sem dúvida, um dos motivos do sucesso do The Fall são as letras de Mark E. Smith. É verdade que isso não surgiu junto com a banda, mas amadureceu ao longo do tempo. Em Live at the Witch Trials isso é pouco explorado e sua lírica fica mais presa a um estereótipo de “punk de cidade industrial decadente”, apesar do potencial estético em Repetition, Crap Rap e Live at the Witch Trials, Industrial Estate, I Like to Blow e Frightened, por exemplo, não passam da retórica cotidiana do punk. É somente a partir de Dragnet e, em especial, na faixa Spector vs Rector, que as letras de MES atingem verdadeira maturidade. Elas vem ao público numa seqüência que culmina em Perverted by Language, segundo muitos críticos; mas que, por outro lado, pode ser esticada até depois da peça escrita por Mark E. Smith, Hey! Luciani.

Recheados de temas fantásticos a la Philip Dick e JG Ballard; com um pé no surreal, ainda que extremamente ligada ao cotidiano; uma versão punk de poesia do princípio do modernismo; todo um repertório destilado por um intelectual que não freqüentou a academia; são algumas características destes escritos. No entanto, ainda que uma série de distinções e aspectos autorais possam ser apontados, uma série desse conteúdo continua obscuro e, talvez por isso, tão interessante e rico. Um exemplo de como isso ainda é “aberto” é a série de ensaios (principalmente o de Mark Fisher, Memorex for the Krakens, determinante na crítica literária do The Fall e de onde sai a maior parte das reflexões aqui), coletâneas de letras, um programa de computador que emula seus maneirismos, um twitter e bancos de dados que armazenam toda a produção lírica de MES.

Mark E. Smith, 200?, Richie Hopson (www.thequietus.com)

O Guia que Mark apresentou e consta a seguir pode não ser um manual de estética exatamente claro, a maneira positivista e pós-romântica que nos acostumamos. Talvez possa até servir como letra para o The Fall, como já adaptaram o trecho em um mp3. Por outro lado, não deixa de ser uma boa porta de entrada ao universo do artista.

this is The Mark E Smith Guide To Writing guide

Day by day breakdown
Day One : Hang around house all day writing bits of useless information on bits of paper
Day Two : Decide lack of inspiration due to too much isolation and non-fraternisation. Go to pub. Have drinks.
Day Three : Get up and go to pub. Hold on in there a style is on it’s way. Through sheer boredom and drunkenness, talk to people in pub.
Day Four : By now, people in the pub should be continually getting on your nerves. Write things about them on backs of beer mats.
Day Five : Go to pub. This is where true penmanship stamina comes into it’s own as by now, guilt, drunkenness, the people in the pub and the fact you’re one of them should combine to enable you to write out of sheer vexation. To write out of sheer vexation.
Day Six : If possible stay home. And write. If not go to pub.

Em português:

este é o Guia para Escrever ‘guia’ de Mark E. Smith

Decomposição dia por dia
Dia um: Passe o dia em casa escrevendo pedaços de informação inútil em pedaços de papel.
Dia dois: Decida por falta de inspiração devido a muito isolamento e nenhuma fraternização. Vá ao pub. Beba.
Dia três: Acorde e vá ao pub. Fique lá, um estilo está chegando. Através do gritante tédio e da embriaguez, fale com as pessoas no pub.
Dia quatro: Agora, as pessoas do pub devem estar continuamente lhe dando nos nervos. Escreva sobre eles atrás de bolachas de chope.
Dia cinco: Vá ao pub. Este é o ponto onde a verdadeira estamina da escritura vem por si, enquanto, por hora, culpa, embriaguez, as pessoas no pub e o fato de você ser uma delas devem combinar-se permitindo que você escreva por sua gritante irritação.
Dia seis: Se possível, fique em casa e escreva. Se não, vá ao pub.

Logo em seguida, o cantor declama um poema feito neste método, transcrito abaixo sem tradução.

Manchester

Dear TV Times,

Your majesties, I have concocted, through the noble invention and Blarney-craft of the humble Northerner, a system whereby constant annoyance by the telephone can be erased. This entails explosive charges left to me by a dead sailor from Bury being wired-up under every window sill in close proximity to my ears. When phones ring and are inconvenient to the ears, I just press table-lamp-like button next to my bed and they blow up. I got the idea from a book.

Yours sincerely,

Mr Reg Varney

Once you get a bit of pain I was splitting meself.
Them ‘illybillies!
Manchester is Manchester ship, cringing for punishment

The Gurkhas keep on advancing
The old cronies babble on TV
The leaders of the kids are drinking whisky with the rich
While the sparks fly in the plaza
Where the workers mass together

I got the idea from a book
I got the idea from a book
Them ‘illybillies!
Them ‘illybillies!

Now, I bow to no man in my devotion to all things synthy/plonky/tinny, but aren’t La Roux a step too far? Isn’t theirs a slavish fixation on 1981 electrobop, right down to the hairsprayed-within-an-inch quiff? Isn’t it all an unseemly retread? No!

Hmmm. Yes. Maybe. But it doesn’t matter when it’s done with this much panache, with this many hooks, with a singer possessed of just the right amount of pouty glower to slip seamlessly into Ultravox. June Ackland’s daughter Elly Jackson is doing a marvellous job rubbing everyone up the wrong way – well, rubbing interviewers up the wrong way, while the public falls for her in swoony droves – and that’s how we like our pop stars. OK, that’s how we like some of our pop stars. More than a handful of Mark E Smiths is too much of a good thing.

Anyway, let’s take opinions from a cross-section of the kids.  Junior pouts like a common Elly and says she doesn’t like ‘In For The Kill’. Is it the auditory challenge of Jackson’s high-pitched trill? No, she just wants to watch Milkshake. Different response from Junior 2 – let’s call her A-Trak – who bodypops in her highchair with all the glee that Junior’s pouted out.

La Roux, then: big with the kids unless Peppa Pig’s on.

Dog whistle:

jeffrey lewis presta homenagem a mark e smith com música e desenhos

Mark E Smith (Prestwich) and The Fall are playing Manchester Academy on Saturday 18th July, John Cooper Clarke (Salford, originally) is at The Lowry on Saturday 1st August and Frank Sidebottom (forever Timperley) will be performing at The Frog & Bucket on Tuesday 29th September.

The Fall have been going (and have kept going) long enough for me to have fallen in and out of love with them on a number of occasions. Mark E Smith is what Mrs Bradshaw (Billy’s Mum) would call a “cantankerosity” and she would be right. A relationship with Mark is hard work, even if it only amounts to thinking about whether or not to buy his records. I have stopped buying them, but I will probably check out the gig.

"I'm also an excellent ventriloquist, actually"

I assume that Frank Sidebottom knows how much a pint of milk costs because he is often complaining about having to do the shopping for his Mum. If John Cooper-Clarke is the bard of Salford, then Frank is the bard of Timperley – the centre of the showbiz world (according to Frank).

Frank made an early claim to punk roots with the release of “Anarchy in Timperley”, which is still one of his best songs. He also claims to often be mistaken in the street for Pete Shelley of The Buzzcocks…?

In an earlier guise (as the man behind the mask) he was also responsible for the wonderful “I’m In Love With a Girl On A Certain Manchester Megastore Checkout Desk” (The Freshies), and set-up the Razz record label..

I know that some people just don’t get what all the fuss is about with Frank and his big fibre glass head and his nasal drawl. Response was mixed, for example, to the Channel M testcard. For me, I like the fact that he is there, giving a different take on the Manchester “scene” and biggin’ it up for his beloved Timperley and Altrincham FC.

Frank has become a solid supporter of Forever Manchester and the Community Foundation.  All the proceeds from Frank’s one-night-only show will go to the Forever Manchester campaign, helping to make Greater Manchester a better place. What more incentive do you need to go and see Frank in the flesh? Ahem! 

“I Thank You.” (Frank Sidebottom)

Chris

Tickets for Frank Sidebottom’s Frog & Bucket gig in September are available via the Forever Manchester website.

mark e smith comanda. é o pai do gollun

Renegade: The lives and Tales of Mark E Smith

Not that he would care about what anyone thought about this, but large parts of this book read like a transcript of a monologue of some old pissed bloke in the corner of a dodgy pub. Really don’t care too much about his childhood, early working life or what his Grandad was like but the details about the Fall are what this is meant to be about. His views on the unreasonable demands for credit from former band members are quite entertaining as are his comments on other bands:

When you’re mired in the shit of the times with bland bastards like Elvis Costello and Spandau Ballet, you start to question not only people’s tastes but their existences.

It’s all a bit of a mess though – despite his protestations about the importance of a strong work ethic, it does seem to have escaped Smith and his ghost writer during large chunks of this book.