After releasing their very successful album “the colour of spring” in 1986, the band had an open budget and schedule for their next two records. What happened next was the production of two of the most outstanding records ever made (“Spirit of Eden” and “Laughing stock“). listen to it and feed your mind with the soul of music:

Talk Talk

Good news for Spartan fans everywhere . . . Michigan State’s board of trustees announced Friday that it has approved contract extensions through 2016 for athletic director Mark Hollis, football coach Mark Dantonio and men’s basketball coach Tom Izzo.  It looks as though were going to start having some consistency and stability within the coaching ranks with less turnover (at least that’s what I’m hoping for).  This is how you build programs “for the long haul.”  Look out Big Ten, here come the Spartans!

Up next for the Spartans . . . the Chippewas from Central Michigan University!  Go Green!

It's My Life: 1984

Here is a nice bit of ’80s pop, or is it? It’s got the familiar sounds, but there is more going on here (we would soon discover that there was actually a lot more going on). These guys started out much like their synth contemporaries, but there was something a bit different. There was an elusive quality that was hard to put your finger on. This second album showed tremendous evolution, and foreshadowed things to come.

There are plenty of elements of good alternative pop here. It begins with “Dum Dum Girl,” and has the well-known classic “It’s My Life.” It is some of the other songs that bear closer examination.

“Such a Shame” sounds very close to prog in the beginning.

“Rene” has some wonderfully rubbery bass, and percussion that you might expect to find on a Peter Gabriel album.

“Tomorrow Started” sounds like a cross between Nat King Cole, and Brian Eno.

“Does Caroline Know” has got a serious calypso influence.

At a glance, this album may seem conventional. Take the time to listen again, and listen closely. In a way, this is a form of proto-prog. It is the foundation upon which they would build up to greater (and more progressive) achievements. It’s also a very good album.

Mark Hollis – vocals
Tim Friese-Greene – keyboards
Henry Lowther – trumpet
Ian Curnow – keyboards
Lee Harris – drums
Robbie McIntosh – guitar
Morris Pert – percussion
Phil Ramocon – piano
Paul Webb – bass

http://8tracks.com/rn3_hh/mut-zur-lucke

“Before you play two notes learn how to play one note – and don’t play one note unless you’ve got a reason to play it.” – Mark Hollis

Untitled from Memories from the Lake

June 1998, my grandmother dies of a stroke, Mark Hollis’  ‘A Life (1895 – 1910)’ is playing in the car on the way to the funeral. The music honks softly like swans.  Recently the swans have come back to me, it was June again.

Jacksonville Rep Audrey Gibson (D) was none too thrilled with an e-mail she received from House Democratic Spokesman Mark Hollis.  His e-mail and her response are below:

From: Hollis, Mark 
Sent: Thursday, March 26, 2009 12:17 PM
To: Hollis, Mark
Subject: members, if you are on the House floor…

Members, 
 
If you are presently on the House floor, please show the appropriate courtesy to your colleagues during their floor remarks/questions.
 
That means putting away Blackberries/laptops, quieting your private conversations, and focusing on your colleagues’ remarks.
 
YOU ARE BEING WATCHED on television and elsewhere.

Mark Hollis
Communications Director
Democratic Office
Florida House of Representatives
850-488-9622

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

From: Gibson, Audrey 
To: Hollis, Mark 
Cc: !HSE Democrats – Members; !HSE Democratic Office 
Sent: Fri Mar 27 17:40:41 2009
Subject: RE: members, if you are on the House floor… 
Mr.  Hollis,
 
I must advise you that I find your e-mail both unprofessional, and out of place. I have held my peace on several items sent from you that lack professionalism and in fact are embarrassing. I have always treated staff with courtesy and professionalism, and I expect no less in return. Please refrain from sending me such e-mails in the future.

Audrey
State Representative 
Audrey Gibson
District 15 

 

They always say that Democrats eat their own…

A time to sell yourself.
A time for passing.

I’m halfway through Greil Marcus’ Mystery Train, which is devastating. Which is vital. Which occasionally close-reads so intensely that it sometimes magnifies incidental music into the long, tortured notes of AMERICA.

Which is often a stretch.

That’s all right. While I see Lester Bangs as one brilliant soul who achieved some eternally elusive music critic Buddhahood, Greil Marcus seems to me a suffering colleague—someone who loves music so much he can’t help but see it in all surrounding bodies.

I, too, am guilty.

For study: the myriad convenient causeways ideologically traveled while rewatching Before Sunrise this week, particularly during the listening booth scene. Richard Linklater didn’t even need to film their faces delivering awkward adoration in equal measures. The power of Kath Bloom’s “Come Here” is such that had he merely focused in on the soft wood of the listening station door, the record just barely audible, you would feel the raw sweetness seeping through. The wood suddenly soaked through with longing.

Then, earlier this week: Talk Talk. I have talked about Talk Talk (for good measure: talk talk talk talk talk talk talk) and Mark Hollis before in places inappropriate to talk about Talk Talk and Mark Hollis.

Time has told me that I do not yet understand Spirit of Eden or Laughing Stock.

I don’t think I’m supposed to.

I don’t even think I want to.

Not because their musical quality is in doubt, God no. It is just easier to run away from their candid examination of the silence between gasps than to stand and be obliterated by them.

Out of one of these studies in economic desperation emerges “I Believe in You.” Oddly, it is not a song examining the many reasons a beautiful vision is deserving of belief. No. It is a ambiguous tracing of all the awful events that led to this belief, which maybe saved our protagonist from his proximity to high open windows.

Or maybe he’s already gone over, and the belief is the only thing keeping his claws in the scaffolding.

One awful event is mentioned specifically: heroin. The others are apparently much worse—too horrible to relay in anything other than vague descriptors.

The music narrates his clutch of the windowsill. Cymbal hits advancing the oppression of time. Arpeggios, in their placid beauty, motioning to the black burning wood surrounding. The bassline, entirely accustomed to its unsettling funk, breaks through and sends him fluttering into the sky. For a moment the chaos that once reigned entire internally is now free to bloody the pavement.

But then come the keyboards, mimicking the eternal drone of angels. And Mark Hollis intoning:

Spirit
How long

And all of a sudden there is something to hold onto. However tiny and invisible.

I felt this in the Insight office. I felt all of this in the flux of editing copy. God knows anyone could stare at the same committed seas and see different reflections.

But like Marcus’ dogged belief that Music from Big Pink is the story of the American dream deferred, I can’t help but ascribe perhaps accidental intentions to deft art.

Sometimes it is all I have to hold onto.

Mark Hollis, English musician and composer (Talk Talk)

/ Life’s what you make it, EMI, 1986

I couldn’t put my finger on just what was it that I heard in Elbow which bit by bit lured in me to their soundworld, until I read of Guy Garvey’s affection for the work of Talk Talk.  That was it – Elbow had something of The colour of spring about them, if not yet Laughing stock.  That spiritual element, given an earthier crust, a secular and neighbourly affection for the part of the world in which the song writer has grown up.  An eye that sees the beauty in the ordinary and everyday, and kindred minds and hearts which jointly strive to communicate that beauty in the music they create together.

Elbow are on a musical journey, and I’m optimistic that they have some considerable distance still to travel.  But how did Talk Talk’s metamorphosis from New Romantic grub to avant-garde butterfly come about?  And was it in fact such a jump?  I’m still inclined to think that it was, for while many musicians journey to places far from their starting point, the best comparison in Mark Hollis’ case is probably the travelling done by Scott Walker, from fashionable pop stardom through artistic seriousness and then on all the way to the end of the line – avant-garde pioneer taking in influences from French chanson and the sinewy ends of 20th century classical music.  We might even venture to suggest that Talk Talk’s voyage from ‘Mirror man’ to ‘Runeii’ is comparable with the one made by the Beatles in journeying from ‘Love me do’ to ‘I me mine’.  Of course the Beatles changed the musical landscape as they moved across it, while Talk Talk’s influence has necessarily percolated down the years slowly, latently.  They themselves had as guides or cautionary tales all the examples of artists subsequent to the Beatles who had kept or lost their integrity along the way, and yet they still managed to make a false start.  Barely anyone else has managed to attain ever-increasing levels of veneration after to all intents and purposes sacrificing their self-respect at the outset.  But strip away the New Romantic garb and musical dressing, and you have in the early singles songs not a million miles from ‘Such a shame’ and ‘Life’s what you make it’.  And from those songs, it’s a small step on to ‘Time it’s time’ and ‘I don’t believe in you’ on The colour of spring, and from there to ‘I believe in you’ and ‘The rainbow’ on Spirit of Eden, and finally to ‘Myrrhman’ and ‘New grass’ on Laughing stock.  ‘Talk Talk’ and ‘Today’ are certainly juvenilia, but having decided not to be A&R puppets, and having made the all-important acquaintance of Tim Friese-Greene, Hollis and his new partner relaxed into their song writing and allowed themselves to mature, despite the ongoing distraction of a series of battles with EMI, well-documented in this Record Collector piece from 1991, and arising with grim inevitability from their determination to control their own destiny.

Of course this is assessment in hindsight.  While to the group it must have been a case of increments worked for at a much slower pace than was visible to the listening public, to the latter it appeared that the group were making astonishing jumps with each subsequent LP.  I first heard Laughing stock on the first evening of my first visit to Paris, as accompaniment to a meal with my hosts; I found it hard to speak much French that night, so astonishing was the music (and so intoxicating the wine).  Even the sky conspired to play its part, the colours of the summer sunset visible from the west-facing 5th floor window of my friends’ appartement like those washing the sky behind the tree of exotic birds on the album’s cover.  ‘Lifted up…’, as Mark Hollis sings on ‘New grass’.  His voice moves effortlessly from whisper to proclamation on ‘Myrrhman’, while the musicians star sail and Albert Ayl’ through ‘Ascension day’, and the whole is as unique and other-worldly as Robert Wyatt’s Rock bottom.  Lyrically Hollis wrestles with doubt, belief and sin as might a saint before he or she grounds his or her conviction and attains a state of grace.  There is a mood similar to the fevered asceticism that John Crace gave to his fictional recreation of Jesus’ forty days and nights in the wilderness in his novel Quarantine.  Certainly there is something biblical about the record, what with the aforementioned songs and ‘After the flood’.  In a 1991 interview with Les Inrockuptibles Hollis rather contradicted himself by saying that yes, his words were religious, but weren’t born of any specific religion, only humanism.  Perhaps something got lost in translation, but since he also said ‘it’s the heart that sings’ we have a clearer sense of where he’s coming from.  Notably released by new record company Polydor on Verve, an imprint usually reserved for jazz, it is the culmination of the Hollis – Friese-Greene partnership, recorded in a way that would have made Joe Boyd and John Wood proud, keeping in the ambience of the room, the moment, the process.

Guy Garvey’s nod to Talk Talk specifically mentions ‘It’s getting late in the evening’, with which song Hollis and company were on the verge of turning into the group that made Laughing stock, though it was recorded at the time of The colour of spring, before they’d even got to Spirit of Eden.  It starts out like the Flying Lizards’ version of ‘Money (that’s what I want)’ played on a ukulele and more rudimentary percussion than even the Lizards used.  (Looking up the spelling of ‘ukulele’ I discover that the word is derived from the Hawaiian, and its literal meaning is ‘jumping flea’, which is perfect.)  The Lizards-esque loop plays underneath the song, bleeding into it, or creating a collision between parts of two songs that the group might have recorded at various stages of their history.  It reveals a group pushing for a future artistic breakthrough even at the very moment that they were realising their first.

‘It’s getting late in the evening’ is one of the songs which makes the Asides and besides collection worth the investment.  Admittedly listening to the first disc in full means wading through extremely tedious extended versions and remixes of Talk Talk’s singles up to and including those culled from The colour of spring, the group having no answer to the record company marketing wisdom of the time (short of recourse to law, a route they eventually took), that everyone wanted a really long version of a four minute pop song, one that stretched it way past breaking point and left it bereft of any heart or dynamic.

Selective downloading may well be the answer, as the songs towards the end of the second disc are those which bring most joy.  It begins however with a demo of their second single, ‘Talk talk’, which reveals a considerably more organic sound than the finished product, one that makes it much easier to connect the early steps of the group with their later progression, their throwing off of record company shackles.  The colour of spring offcuts include ‘Pictures of Bernadette’, a throwback to the group Talk Talk no longer were, and the meandering melodiousness of ‘For what it’s worth’ and ‘John Cope’.  The chiming guitars of the latter in particular run ‘It’s getting late in the evening’ close; notes are sustained church organ-style on an inexpensive-sounding keyboard against a slow heartbeat rhythm on the drums, and the whole has the sublime mix of acoustic richness and space that became Talk Talk’s signature.

‘That’s the key — space — it helps to build and resolve the tensions. Silence is the most powerful instrument I have.’  In interviews Mark Hollis spent a lot of time talking about silence.  It’s a preference that informed his music-making and led inevitably to the penultimate silence of retirement, a state to which Hollis effectively gave himself after his solo record in 1998 and a couple of subsequent appearances on the records of others.  Written and recorded without Tim Friese-Greene, Mark Hollis goes beyond what was achieved with Laughing stock; indeed the song writing partners went their separate ways because together they didn’t believe they could make any further progress.  Whether you enjoy Mark Hollis will depend on your regard for Laughing stock as unsurpassable, your tolerance for musicians blowing random or unexpected notes on wind instruments, and for pieces with whispered introductions that rarely rise substantially above those whisperings.  Lyrically Hollis is more elliptical than ever.  ‘A life (1895 – 1915)’ – in spite of the clue as to subject matter in its title – makes the Sea And Cake’s Sam Prekop look verbose and given to stating the bleeding obvious; in total there are only fourteen words and only half of those help to confirm that the subject is a soldier who died in World War I.  Silence was winning out, and this was Mark Hollis signing off.  But before he went he treated us to ‘The gift’ and ‘The daily planet’, songs which would not have been out of place on Laughing stock, with their cyclical rhythms, improvised playing and spontaneous takes within the confines of considered arrangements, and that yearning, reaching voice, proving the truism that the voice is the first instrument.  And the last.

Aside from Elbow, and Tim Friese-Greene’s subsequent music under the Heligoland moniker, it’s difficult to assess the scale of Talk Talk’s legacy.  While Spirit of Eden and Laughing stock were out on their own back then, Talk Talk’s musical spirit is now something approaching one kind of artistic norm, while the side of Talk Talk that was uncompromising and pioneering is to be found in the radically different musical universe of Portishead.  In the long hiatus between Portishead and Third, it made some kind of weird sense that Beth Gibbons should team up with Talk Talk’s bass player Paul Webb a.k.a. Rustin Man to create the autumnal beauty of Out of season.

More than anything Talk Talk were instrumental in freeing pop music from its own constraints, and serve as one of the prime examples of where vision and sheer bloody-mindedness can take you.  Many who wish to follow Hollis in rejecting rather than accepting the constraints of pop may not ever be aware of him, but he has undoubtedly helped make their lives a little easier, and the infinite possibilities of music more realisable.

• It’s getting late in the evening
• Within Without – a website dedicated to the music of Mark Hollis and Talk Talk

Und nochmal Herbstmusik, diesmal weniger von der kuschligen als vielmehr von der dramatischen Sorte: 1998, sieben Jahre nach Auflösung der Band und zwölf Jahre nach dem eigentlichen Konzert, erschien das erste und einzig offizielle Livealbum der großen Talk Talk, auf dem Mark Hollis-eigenen Label Pond Life, und damit ein unglaubliches Zeugnis dieser unglaublichen Band.

Talk Talk waren ja nun nie als Liveband bekannt, und gerade das Spätwerk wurde ob seiner Komplexität und Zerbrechlichkeit überhaupt nicht mehr live aufgeführt (dazu wurde in der entsprechenden Presse ja schon alles gesagt), und “London 1986″ ist offenbar bereits das letzte Konzert der Band, die immerhin erst 1991 mit “Laughing Stock” ihr letztes offizielles Album veröffentlicht hat. Weiterhin haben Talk Talk, vielleicht mit Ausnahme des allzu konventionellen Synthie-Pop-Debuts “The Party’s Over” (1982), eine Reihe von unglaublich guten Studioalben geschaffen, so daß sich an dieser Stelle zurecht die Frage stellt: Wieso wird hier dann ausgerechnet das Livealbum besprochen?

Livealben sind ja so eine Sache, und meine Sache sind sie eigentlich nicht unbedingt. Der Sound stimmt oft nicht, die Zwischenrufer stören eigentlich immer, der Applaus fängt meistens zu früh an und hört zu spät auf, so daß man die Lieder nicht rein und schön genießen kann, diese persönliche Beziehung, die man als Hörer zu den Liedern aufbaut, wird durch das Publikum untergraben, und außerdem sind die Veränderungen in den Arrangements ja meistens irgendwie unvertraut, und das mag man als bornierter, eingefahrener Fan nicht. Ausnahmen gibt es allerdings, z. B. Bonnie “Prince” Billy, dessen “Summer in the Southeast” (2005) oder das ganz neue Doppelalbum “Is This The Sea?” (2008) noch eine unmittelbare Energie haben, die seinen Studioalben verlorengegangen ist. Oder eben “London 1986″.

Freilich: Die Zwischenrufer sind auf dieser Platte noch lästiger als eh schon, gleich zu Anfang mußte ich mich ärgern, als in der dramatischen, ungemein spannungsgeladenen Pause des Eröffnungsstückes “Tomorrow Started”, in der Hollis anfängt zu singen, ein Depp “Juchei” oder so brüllen muß und die Dramatik damit ziemlich ruiniert. Dann aber kann ich ihn verstehen: Irgendwie muß der Mensch eine solche Erwartung, eine solche Spannung ja entladen, die durch diese extrem intensive Musik entsteht, und nicht zuletzt auch durch das Enigma der Band selbst. Sei’s drum: Der Sound hingegen ist glasklar, druckvoll, läßt den Details jeden Raum, den sie brauchen, ist einfach prima (man fragt sich in der Tat, wie lange der Soundcheck wohl gedauert haben mag) und wird so den Studioalben durchaus gerecht, die Songauswahl ist “eine Art Best-of-Live-Album, mit allen Knallern drauf”, so das Intro damals, und die Frage bleibt: Wieso begeistert mich ausgerechnet das Livealbum dieser Studioband so sehr?

Ein prosaischer Grund dafür mag sein, daß ich die Studioversionen dieser Lieder damals einfach so dermaßen oft gehört habe, daß ich froh war, damals dieselben tollen Lieder in anderen, noch nicht durchgenudelten Versionen hören zu können. Tatsächlich aber hat mich dieses Album zu einem Zeitpunkt erwischt, der besser nicht hätte sein können: Ich hatte Talk Talk eben erst entdeckt und einige Zeit lang rauf und runter gehört, eine Musik, die mir damals wie nichts sonst entsprochen hat in all ihrem Schmerz, dem leidenden Gesang von Mark Hollis, den irrsinnigen Arrangements und Melodien, den metaphysischen Texten, die in ihrem Fragen so schienen, als könnten sie irgendetwas erklären. Und dann plötzlich das Livealbum, und damit das Versprechen, dieser Musik und ihrem Protagonisten Hollis noch ein Stück näher kommen zu können, denn bei aller Emotionalität sorgte die Perfektion der Studioalben und Hollis’ oft vernuschelter Gesang immer für eine gewisse Distanz, oder vielleicht für eine Körperlosigkeit, eine metaphysische Abstraktion, und die Hoffnung bei “London 1986″ war, hinter dem Kunstwerk Talk Talk ein wenig von diesem faszinierenden, geheimnisvollen Menschen Mark Hollis selbst mitzubekommen.

Diese Liveaufnahmen gelten für einige Journalisten als Schnittstelle zwischen den frühen, synthiepopaffinen Talk Talk und dem von Jazz, moderner Klassik und Minimal Music beeinflußten Spätwerk, das bereits mit 1986 “The Colour of Spring” seinen Anfang nahm und seine Vollendung in “Laughing Stock” (1991) fand, als Ausblick auf das Kommende, und die Songauswahl beschränkt sich auf die Hits des zweiten Albums “It’s My Life” (1984) und besagtem “The Colour of Spring”. Doch was auf den Studioalben noch schöne, clevere Synthiepopsongs sind (“It’s My Life”, “Does Caroline Know?”, “Tomorrow Started”), oder aber schon deutlich niveauvoller (“Life’s What You Make It”, “Such A Shame”), wird hier zu einem intensiven Erlebnis, zu klanggewordener Verzweiflung und Wut, in die nur “Does Caoline Know?” ein bißchen Licht bringt.

Ansonsten arbeitet sich die Band furios und handwerklich perfekt durch die lähmende Trauer von “Tomorrow Started”, die düstere Wut von “Life Is What You Make It”, die teen angst von “It’s My Life” (später von den doofen No Doubt nahezu eins zu eins gecovert – also eigentlich unnötig -, nur ohne den tollen Gesang von Hollis; immerhin haben sie so Talk Talk einer breiteren Öffentlichkeit ins Gedächtnis zurückgerufen, so gesehen: Danke, No Doubt), die kopfschüttelnde bittere Erkenntnis von “Such A Shame” und, als großartiges Finale, durch die tiefe Trauer von “Renée”, und wirkt dabei lebendig und energisch wie nie zuvor. Höhepunkt ist das unglaubliche “Living In Another World”, hier noch intensiver, wütender, kräftiger als auf der Studioaufnahme, und Mark Felthams Mundharmonika bricht hier zu einem wahren Fegefeuer aus. Wow. Selbst das von mir immer als irgendwie unnötig empfundene “Give It Up” mit seinem doch leicht pubertären Text gewinnt hier an Tiefe und Schönheit, und das veränderte Arrangement ihres Hits “Such A Shame”, der hier nicht wie normal langsam und bedrohlich anfängt, sondern gleich voll aufs Gas tritt und den Hörer förmlich wegbläst, tut diesem Song extrem gut.

“London 1986″ mag tatsächlich nur ein Live-Best-Of der frühen Talk Talk sein, aber diese Platte leistet dem Hörer den wunderbaren Dienst, all diese leidenschaftlichen Lieder, die man bis zu ihrem Erscheinen 1998 schon so oft gehört hatte und deren Intensität sich vielleicht langsam abgenutzt hat, in diesen neuen Versionen nochmal neu und noch intensiver zu erleben, wofür ich persönlich sehr dankbar bin.

Und außerdem kann man den großen, enigmatischen Schweiger Mark Hollis auf diesem Album zwei, drei Mal “Thank you” und “Good night” sagen hören. Näher war er einem bis dato noch nie gekommen.

Within Without
Talking Space

I'm still looking for old pictures from that time when it wasn't odd to see some people in trench coats or leather jackets in the middle of the day(even summertime) but temporarily this will do,for now. A bit more general, with the preppy, pastel color galore 80's Menudo kind of look than the dour European New Wave visual. It does remind me of current trendy bands though, both local and international. mismatched Chucks, skinny jeans. Ahh, the cycle in music and fashion. What goes around comes around. Scary.

Chong
both noun and adjective
An 80’s term of endearment by local punks for new wavers.

Punk1-Huh?Pupunta kang party sa Corinthians? Puro Chongs doon no!

Punk2-di bale Positive Noise yung mobile, nagpapatugtog yon ng “Damaged Goods” at “Wild in The Streets”, pwede na rin!

If Britain had Mods versus Rockers, well then, here in the fabulous 80s there was the amusing Punks versus Chongs division. It wasn’t as bad as one would imagine though and wasn’t even close to the stupidity behind the Rock versus Hip Hop call for arms in the 90s. It was just a loving, slight derogatory term placed upon people who were into New Wave by the local Johnny Rottens and the Sid Vicious’ of the day like they were better because they listened to something harder,noisier, chaotic and rebellious.

I was actually both, a hybrid. I enjoyed Circle Jerks as much as i enjoyed The Lotus Eaters but being that i’m from a different background and didn’t sport a mohawk nor wore a dog collar with rusty nails protruding, i was definitely referred to as a “chong”.

It wasn’t something bad to me nor did i take offense to it. I’m not going to deny i was more into the cool demeanor of a Tim Butler(bass player and brother of Richard-Psychedelic Furs), Martin Fry of ABC, the quirky Mark Hollis of Talk Talk and moreover, the unabashed, fey swagger of David Sylvian (Japan). Heck, at one point i even sported Phil Oakey’s(Human League) lopsided hairdo. This sense of style appealed more to me than having to put egg yolk on my hair to make it stay up and spikey though from time to time i would be caught wearing PVC trousers,(or something close to it), something narrow and plaid or something with loads of buckles and zippers tucked in a pair of U2 or The Alarm looking boots. Not just for the weekend mind you, but more for school, partnered with the school polo uniform, shirtjack style.

However, seeing Paul Weller in a white trenchcoat, Fred Perry sport shirt with drainpipe trousers and loafers seemed to connect with me more and that’s where the “mod” posturing came about. But to most i was a “chong”.

Still, the group of mobile friends i was with then and i were probably the only ones who could get away playing Hardcore/Ska and Punk/New Wave/Post-Punk altogether. Ex. D.O.A, The English Beat ,The Fall, Dead Kennedys, Seona Dancing (Ricky Gervais) and The Fire Engines etc., side by side for a Punks not Dead party or a trench coat wearing (96 degrees in the shade), allblack,eyelinerheavy,The Cure lookalike soiree. I’ve certainly had my fair share of beer bottles whizzing by, being spat at and given the finger by groups of Punks, and all this, while playing their favorite Minor Threat song or the never fail “Sex and Violence” by The Exploited.

But yeah, still in the configuration i was a considered a “chong” and i was, for the most part. But, was i really one in the Industry “State of The Nation” sense? Check for yourselves and decide whether i was a permanent fixture at the Corinthian club house or whether i have New Wave pedigree and an indie cred… from a sample of records in my arsenal. Click HERE

While the subject’s on New Wave here’s one of the best bands from the 80s in my book. Critically acclaimed yet criminally misunderstood by most.

Yes, you heard correctly. Mark Hollis was singing live over the minus one for this simple video directed by then wonder boy Tim Pope. There is another version of this video btw. The other two, Paul Webb and Lee Harris went on to form O’rang and if i’m not mistaken Paul Webb collaborated with Beth Gibbons under Rustin Man. Sadly, Mark Hollis, after putting out a wrist slasher of a solo effort in the same vein as the last two Talk Talk albums has retired completely from the music business. He should make a comeback. Their last two albums Spirit of Eden and Laughing Stock are considered by many music fans and critics alike as the progenitor of “Post Rock”.

For another excellent Talk Talk video click HERE.

Set the Scene – it is a Wednesday afternoon, Itunes/headphones/office/Nokia manual to write.. bliss hmm

All was proceding well, there was a bit of glen hansard and marketa irglova playing away, then there was the joyful bing of an e-mail to tell me that i had a fax at reception. I wondered whether to not reply, as this would have entailed them calling me about the e-mail about the fax, but decided that the exercise would be beneficial… I came back and on ITunes Mark Hollis was playing the track “Inside looking out”from his one and only album, Mark Hollis.

I am not a Mark Hollis expert, but here goes. He used to be in Talk Talk, his brother is the Eddie of Eddie and the hot rods! erm thats about as far as i go… Talk Talk’s Spirit of Eden, Colour of Spring and Laughing Stock contain some of my favourite pieces of music. He released his solo album a couple of years after the demise of talk talk.  I bought it and immediately the sparse stretched melodies and instrumentation just caught something magical and unique.

I and iTunes shuffle had forgotten about this for some time and then this afternoon it came on… It is such a stunning vivid piece of work.. It shouldn’t lift your spirits the way it does…Sadly i just checked up on Amazon and it is going new for £2.98!!! methinks an early christmas shop might need to be done, this album needs inflicting on others.

Anyway back to the Nokia manual ho hum.

Next week i shall talk about John Martyn’s Inside out.

…however, it’s quiet, which is nice. This all said I will be taking a holiday here myself today, though later tonight or tomorrow I’ll have some random thoughts on that there new Indiana Jones movie, which I’m going to catch tonight after work, as hopefully things will have quieted down a bit. (Paying full price is its own pain but anyway.)

So some scattered links and observations for now:

• Edward Lengel’s remarkable Washington Post piece about America’s World War I veterans — and how that war experience generally has been erased or reduced in terms of the public consciousness about veterans in general — is well worth a read on this day. To quote briefly from it:
  

  The war’s last and greatest battle involving U.S. soldiers, fought in the Meuse-Argonne region of eastern France during the autumn of 1918, sucked in more than 1 million U.S. troops and hundreds of airplanes and tanks. Artillery batteries commanded by men such as the young Harry S. Truman fired more than 4 million shells — more than the Union Army fired during the entire Civil War. More than 26,000 doughboys were killed and almost 100,000 wounded, making the clash probably the bloodiest single battle in U.S. history. But as far as the American public was concerned, it might as well never have taken place. “Veterans said to me in their speeches and in private that the American people did not know anything about the Meuse-Argonne battle,” Brig. Gen. Dennis Nolan wrote years later. “I have never understood why.”

• Randomly thinking about this piece led me to dig up a four part series of posts on World War I as considered in various examples of the popular imagination I did for Freaky Trigger back in 2004, “Anthems.” Enjoyable enough still, I suppose, and they might be of interest on the day:

  Part 1 (on the book Tommy by Richard Holmes)
  Part 2 (on the original movie adaptation of All Quiet on the Western Front)
  Part 3 (on World War I-themed songs by the Durutti Column, Mark Hollis and Piano Magic)
  Part 4 (concluding thoughts)

• And speaking of old movie thoughts of mine, two more here, on The Rules of the Game and The Silence of the Lambs. Maybe interesting, maybe not!

Hope your day’s good.

Un video con Mark Hollis cuando en el grupo “Talk Talk”, con el tema “I Believe In You”. Un grupo y un artista imprescindible, excepcional y brillante!

Álbumes recomendados:

Titulo: The Colour of Spring

Portishead – “Third” (2008 )
Нежният и драматичен глас на Бет Гибънс се дуелира с авангардната и студена електроника в новия албум на Portishead. “Third”, отнел на създателите си повече от 7 години, е едно странно и непредсказуемо пътешествие, което ще ви отведе право към….е, разберете сами. Трудно е да се каже дали чакането си е заслужавало напълно, но новият проект на Portishead е достатъчно стойностен сам по себе си.

Mark Hollis – Mark Hollis (1998 )
Албум, за чието съществуване знаех от много време, но така и не бях слушал допреди няколко дни. Първият и засега единствен соло албум на Марк Холис, бившият вокалист на Talk Talk, следва пост-рок насоката на последните два албума на групата, но този път сякаш джаз елементите са по-осезаеми. Препоръчвам го на всички, които харесват Talk Talk и особено по-меланхоличните им моменти.

Matt Elliott – “Drinking Songs” (2005) и “Failing Songs” (2006)
Научих за Мат Елиът, след като ми го препоръчаха в last.fm Изтеглих тези два албума, изпълнени с много тъмнина, скрит гняв към случващото се по света, композиции, които спират дъха ти точно преди да разгърнат цялата си красота. Мат е от хората, с чиято музика ще се опитам да се запозная повече през следващите седмици.

David Sylvian – “Blemish” (2003)
“Blemish” е третият албум на Дейвид Силвиан, който слушам. Предишните бяха “Brilliant Trees” (1984) и “Secrets Of The Beehive” (1987), и двата изключително силни, мелодични, внушителни, дълбоки. Но хармонията и мелодията не са добре дошли в “Blemish”, който се съсредоточава върху развода на Силвиан и може би за да отрази хаотичността на чувствата, е на първо слушане пълна бъркотия.
Както и да го погледнем, това е албум, в който думите, а не музиката, са на преден план. Бившият вокалист на Japan (и човекът-от-който-Ник-Роудс-открадна-идеята-за-имиджа-си) е все така поетичен, но по-открит и директен. И това с времето започва все повече и повече да ми харесва.