Álbum: The Pains of Being Pure at Heart EP (Painbow, 2007)

En muchas ocasiones, analizamos demasiado la música, cuando la música es, básicamente, algo primario, que acompaña a la raza humana desde el principio de los tiempos. Y por mucho que intentemos analizar y racionalizar por qué nos gusta una canción y no otra, finalmente son las tripas y el corazón lo que nos hace disfrutar más o menos de una canción.

TPOBPAH, cara a cara con su público

Y en ese terreno es donde juegan y destacan The Pains of Being Pure at Heart. La banda de Brooklyn ha aparecido como un terremoto en la escena internacional, jugando con las cartas marcadas, sí (Sarah Records, The Jesus & Mary Chain, la escena escocesa, etc..) pero cartas ganadoras al fin y al cabo. No descubren nada, pero sus canciones llegan de tal manera que uno parece volver a tener la ilusión de los 16 años y vivir cada canción como si fuese la última.

Dos veces los he visto en directo, y dos veces me han conquistado con su pop adictivo, dejándome con la sonrisa en la cara y una alegría desbordante. ¿Qué más se puede pedir?

Y como muestra, esta canción,  llamada igual que el grupo y parte del primer EP de la banda, boceto de todo lo que vendría a cuajar en su fabuloso LP.

Y es que el indiepop nunca morirá….

no no we will never die, we will never die

no no we will never die, we will never die

Si te ha gustado, descárgatela aquí

• 1. The first act of revolution is destruction and the first thing to destroy is THE PAST.
• 2. We want to burn in bright colours and go pop, to be giddy, impulsive and silly, to kiss people in new places – EXQUISITELY – and dare to tear things apart.
• 3. Nothing should be forever.
• 4. It reminds us we’re alive
• 5. Habit and fear of change are the worst reasons for ever doing ANYTHING.

Horse Shoes består av Drew Diver och Jacob Graham som spelade i olika band i Ohio. Tidigare i höst släppte de sin debut på Shelflife, en 7″ + CD i bolagets rad av 1000-series. Shelflife refererar till Field Mice, The Hit Parade och våra svenska The Embassy och Air France. Och Horse Shoes låter verkligen som en fusion av Sarah Records och Göteborgs marina pop.

Holiday Records är ett fantastiskt amerikanskt bolag undertecknad nyligen upptäckt. De håller hårt på indiekulturen och estetiken är vacker. På Holiday har Horse Shoes släppt “I Wish I Meant More To You” i form av en fri mp3. Låten är en cover på en demo av Sarah-favoriten Field Mice.

I Wish I Meant More To You
Horse Shoes hemsida
Myspace
Holiday Records
Shelflife

Álbum: London Weekend (1992)

Qué difícil me ha resultado elegir una sola canción de este disco. Por obra y gracia de la reedición de Cherry Red que ayer me llegó a casa, llevo toda la mañana con él a las vueltas, y si a principio de la mañana pensaba en subir Anorak city, poco después elegía I’m in love with a girl who doesn’t know I exist, paradigma del sonido Sarah Records, para acabar decidiéndome por esta You should be all murdered, en la que Harvey Williams rinde cuentas con todo lo que no le gusta..

One day, when the world is set to rights
I’m going to murder all the people I don’t like

Harvey Williams, todo un referente de la música pop

Sarah Records es un sello histórico, mitificado quizás en exceso, e icono de la independencia musical. Allá a finales de los 80, sus 7″  eran auténticos tesoros (probad a ver sus precios hoy en día en ebay…) y en el sello figuraban nombres como The Field Mice, Heavenly, Blueboy, St. Cristopher o The Sea Urchins, hasta completar las 99 referencias con las que echaron el cierre. Uno de esos grupos era Another Sunny Day, banda al servicio de Harvey Williams (también en Blueboy, Field Mice y The Hit Parade), que entregaron una serie de singles, recopilados en el London Weekend, pieza seminal del twee/jangle pop. Y  como ejemplo de ese pop de guitarras, nada como la que suena en esta canción, esos acordes que consiguen una y otra vez emocionarme.

Un día voy a asesinar a toda la gente que no me gusta
la gente que es cruel con quienes no lo merecen
la gente que habla demasiado
la gente a la que no le importa nada
la gente que se rinde
la gente que no lucha
la gente que no me gusta
la gente que rompió mi corazón tan fuerte que jamás se arreglará
la gente que no sabe cuándo olvidar y perdonar
Ésta es la gente que no merece vivir..,

Si te ha gustado, descárgatela aquí

I was struggling to articulate all sorts of things in this excerpt from Pantry For The World, and Sarah Records got caught in the crossfire.  A less violent, retrospective assessment of the label was delivered as part of B/w 42 on St. Christopher.

The sky blue colour of the cover of Pantry For The World was partly chosen in tribute to the covers of the first two Another Sunny Day singles.  It’s great to see Harvey’s early work available again in the form of London Weekend (Cherry Red).  I still love the contrast between the focussed musical rush of ‘What’s happened to you, my dearest friend?’ and its bewildered lyric, and the way the sound comes together with the words to create the yearning tug of ‘Green’.

The Orchids were definitely one of the more accomplished groups to record for Sarah.  They were consistent too, and the LP Striving for the lazy perfection lived up to its own billing.  It wouldn’t be quite true to say the same of the single ‘Thaumaturgy’ – miracle-working – but it’s not far off, and full marks to the Scots for helping to extend our vocabularies back in those days.

• Another Sunny Day – What’s happened to you, my dearest friend?
• The Orchids – Thaumaturgy

photo from Geneve Rege’s flickr

Anyone familiar with F.M. Corong’s East River Pipe knows what kind of beautiful melancholy that can pour out of a life-long east coaster. I always thought that the stereotypical laid-back west coaster wasn’t capable of creating something sounding anything like an East River Pipe.  Of course my assumption is wrong, tales of heartache and depression are universal. Devon Williams who comes from La-La-Los Angeles reiterates that point with his solitary and suffering songs.  This isn’t the first we’ve heard of this dour fellow, you may recognize him from Lavender Diamond, Champagne Socialists (now called Neverever), or  heard his album Carefree from last year that came out on Ba Da Bing.  Just as Sarah Records snapped up East River Pipe, Slumberland has nabbed Mr. Williams and the first fruits of this destined marriage is a 7 inch single with a an album coming sometime in the near future.

mp3: Devon Williams – Who Cares About Forever (order the 7 inch from Slumberland)

And here’s one from my favorite East River Pipe album Poor Fricky.
mp3: East River Pipe – Superstar In France (buy Poor Fricky from Merge)

/ You deserve more than a maybe, Sarah Records, 1988

It was about time we inducted a Sarah flipside into the B/w Hall of Obscurity, for no other label made quite such a song and dance about the aesthetic and political value and impact of the seven inch single.  Influenced by the high standards and joi de vivre of Alan Horne’s Postcard, the ideals and aesthetics of Factory, and the punk rock attitude not only of Creation but also of Subway, the Bristol label that preceded theirs, Clare Wadd and Matt Haynes took the politics of format and value to new heights.  Unfortunately the content didn’t always match the solidity of the principles, and a fair number of the records they released were excessively gauche or incompetent, with to these ears few redeeming features.  But the Sea Urchins, the Orchids, Another Sunny Day, the Springfields, Even As We Speak, the Wake (on a free transfer from Factory), Blueboy, the Sugargliders, the Hit Parade, the Harvest Ministers, and yes, the Field Mice all had something going for them – usually more than something.  In terms of the ongoing battle in pop between those hoping to create timeless music and those happy to realise music specific to the times, Sarah may have had a foot in both camps – in his Are you scared to get happy? fanzines and through Sarah’s predecessor, the flexi label Sha-la-la, Matt had subscribed to the notion of ‘throwaway pop’ – but much of the music made by the groups listed above is standing up well to the 21st century.

The politics, the ferocity of eighties fanzine writers’ economic critique arose from having very little money to live on.  Money only went so far when you were a student or unemployed or working for peanuts.  Brought up to be distrustful of the economics of loans, disciplined to make do on very little, but addicted to music, you soon gained an awareness of and contempt for the financial excesses washing around the music industry.  The choice was often whether to give in and feed that vinyl craving, or keep it back for a pint or two at the gig that night.  Matt wrote evocatively of having to choose between the electric meter and the photocopier.  Not much give and take, very little room for manoeuvre.  So there seemed to be good cause to react angrily if groups chose to do a 3 track 12 inch, especially if you knew that they were not much further away from poverty than you.  That extra track would usually have fitted on a 7 inch at half the price.  But songs were more preciously meted out than they are now, for there never seemed to be a surfeit of them.  Then the musical landscape was finite; now it is virtually infinite.

Impoverished consumers with an addiction to pop got it for free wherever they could – taped by friends, from LPs lent by the public library, or off the radio – but they also spent what money they had on must-have purchases.  Home-taping never killed music, just as it won’t be killed by free downloading.  Kids today may on average be better off than we were twenty-odd years ago, but their disposable income is probably as limited in a relative sense; why would they apportion more of it to music than they do when so much is not only available for free but actually given away as teasers by the industry itself?  Twenty years on, I sit here surrounded by an instant eBay shop’s worth of vinyl and CD stock were I ever inclined to go down that business road.  Whether he likes it or not, the home taper turns out not to be the industry’s assassin, but its greatest supporter.  Kids may not buy music now, as kids, but as their earning power grows and their understanding of value changes in their adult lives, many will think through the consequences of not supporting the music they have come to love and be more inclined to part with their virtual cash.  Or – in defiance of the myth the industry likes to peddle – continue parting with that cash.

From 1987 onwards, Sarah Records carried its fight to the music industry, or at least its independent sector.  The majority of the label’s seven inch records offered three songs in transparent plastic bags with wraparound covers.  Ten inch and full LPs were very reasonably priced.  12 inches when they finally appeared were more like mini-LPs, or, as was the case with the Field Mice’s ‘Missing the moon’, bore the legend ‘this single sells at 7” price’.  Thematic care was taken over labels – Bristol’s transport systems were a feature – and the singles came with posters or postcards and/or inserts which were usually comedic but sometimes poetic, giving you the sense not only of care, attention to detail and wit, but also of a world view that was altogether more rounded than the music media of the time would have had you believe (‘monomaniacs’ is a brickbat that sticks in my mind).  Sarah’s first compilation Shadow factory thanked ‘all of our chums in the independent record industry, without whom none of this would have been necessary.’  They even devised a board game, Saropoly, documenting the trials and tribulations of being an independent, provincial record label in a world of Ivos, Tonys and Alans.

In a non-mainstream sense Sarah Records has been incredibly influential in the years since it reached 99 single releases and Clare and Matt decided to call it a day.  A host of labels have subsequently modelled themselves in Sarah’s image,  promulgating – for better or worse – the musical style it fostered.  You might even argue that those manufacturers of what until recently tasted like the best smoothies in the UK, Innocent, based their marketing style on Sarah’s inserts.  But then Sarah never sold part of itself to Coca Cola.

That Sarah’s political ideals often overshadowed the music is reflected even now by the fact that I’ve saddled a B/w entry nominally about St. Christopher with an account of the label’s ethos.  So let’s give old York’s St. Christopher their due, for as Sarah acts went, they were a particularly vibrant and musically competent bunch.  Glenn Melia’s trio delivered rolling waves of rhythm and jangle, topped with his impassioned, declamatory vocals and a recording technique which evidently involved an echo chamber.  The songs were high on melody and disinclined to outstay their welcome.  That sixties-fixated duo known as the Last Shadow Puppets are a not unreasonable contemporary parallel.  Although it has orchestral backing and a big production in comparison with St. Christopher’s solitary addition of keyboards to the basic guitar-bass-drums set-up, The age of the understatement is filled with a similarly stiff-backed dramatic style and a sound lovingly pilfered from the same sources (St. Christopher’s ten inch LP for Sarah was entitled Bacharach).  Glenn’s lyrics are, however, more Walker Brothers at the height of their popularity than they are ‘Seventh seal’ Scott.  But the atmosphere generated is suitably cinematic, a widescreen panorama of the emotions.  The sound and songwriting is very English, but its pop and folk roots have been treated with exposure to American culture, and some European, albeit indirectly.

‘The kind of girl’ starts dreamily enough, with a pretty flowers-in-the-meadow pattern picked out on Glenn’s guitar.  But the rude and sudden entrance of drummer Ian Kay soon puts an end to any daydreaming, and gives notice of altogether more urgent business, a celebration of the kind of girl she is – ‘the kind of girl that dreams are made of’.  Fellow B side ‘The summer you love’ is just as dramatic, swirling and joyous.  The A side has the same grandeur and haughty insouciance as the equally arresting work of Liverpool’s Wild Swans.  In its run-out grooves a dedication – ‘For Mark’ – is scratched, the tragic story relating to which is told in the sleeve notes of the label’s final compilation, There And Back Again Lane.

St. Christopher is still a going concern, and there are no less than three retrospective compilations available starting from their time with Sarah.  But as well as their Sarah singles, it’s to the three songs issued in 1987 as a flexi disc with the third issue of Caff fanzine that I most frequently return.  On the flexi St. Christopher prove they have a big enough sound to overcome even the deficiencies of the bendable plastic format (hundreds of groups at the time did not).  Had Stanley and Wiggs not got their hands on the songs first, these might have made for an even better Sarah debut.  ‘Forevermore starts here’ led the charge with shimmering, transcendental pop whose strumming was a model of controlled frenzy.  ‘Remember me to her’ again acts as a showpiece for Ian Kay’s wonderful drumming, part beat group, part raw garage, part orchestral timpani – yet amid all that rolling thunder, the group don’t forget to serve up another memorably melodic pop song.  Finally ‘Sinking ships’ snaffles the spirit of a Sean O’Hagan solo from the Microdisney instrumental ‘Michael Murphy’, but also delivers on a jangling sound that gets as close as any kids of independent leaning got to the super-bright celebratory guitar campanology that was contemporaneously emanating from various parts of Africa.  Now that’s what I call a ringing endorsement.

• St. Christopher – The kind of girl
• St. Christopher – Sinking ships
• St. Christopher MySpace 
• Sarah Records and Shinkansen Recordings: the official website 
• Sarah Records discography

Someone quoted me all over this:

“The strange thing was that Huggy Bear’s musical template was hardly revolutionary. It was a relatively straightforward mix between the twee, non-macho, post-C86 bands such as Heavenly and The Field Mice, caught up in the DIY cassette and fanzine culture emanating from labels such as Calvin Johnson’s K Records, and Bristol, England’s Sarah Records, and the noise/pop experimentation of the sonic overlords/ladies Lydia Lunch and Sonic Youth…with a little Fifties beat poetry thrown in. No, it wasn’t so much the music that was revolutionary, as what they did with it. Scratch that. Huggy Bear’s deliberately naïve, anti-societal approach to playing guitar — there is no right and wrong way to play guitar, to paint a picture, to view art —was revolutionary inasmuch as it challenged accepted mores, forced listeners to re-evaluate their entire approach to music.

“In a way, the act of declaring oneself a revolutionary is revolutionary in itself. Despite their musical leanings, Huggy Bear with their rudimentary anarcho-syndicalism, ideas of equal ‘prime movers’ (not leaders) and impassioned feminism had more in common with mischief-mongers and Government-baiters Crass than any of the toy rabbit-clutching bands that followed. One listen to the fury threatening to devour the songs alive on their Wiiija compilation Taking The Rough With The Smooch proves that.”

So I thought I’d re-re-up the part they re-upped here, post a link to the original article here, and give a link to the place that re-upped it, cos it looks like a pretty fucking cool blog.

You can find the Riot Grrrl series of interviews here.

OK. Thought I’d shove up some random archive stuff, especially as my hard drive backup seems to be eating my old files, never to return. First, an interview from 2005 conducted for… where? I have no recollection, but I feel that perhaps I used some of this later in a Plan B feature. There’s already plenty of stuff about some of these bands elsewhere on my blogs (particularly here) and there’s a great article from Alistair Fitchett about it here, but I really can’t be arsed to link to it all. Sorry.

Alright, first the basic questions that I ask everyone:
Which were the most important earlier bands leading up to the C-86 wave?
Orange Juice, Josef K, Aztec Camera (the sound of Young Scotland): the ideology behind Creation Records but not the bands themselves (with the exception of the Mary Chain and The Pastels): anything on Rough Trade records post-1978 (except The Smiths who always were corporate sell-outs): The Fall (because they influences EVERY independent band from the UK post-1977): Buzzcocks, Subway Sect, Captain Beefheart (half the bands on that NME tape ripped the good Captain off), The Velvet Underground (and the other half ripped the Velvets off): Trixie’s Big Red Motorbike, Sophisticated Boom Boom and any of the girl-led pop groups that Peel used to play in the early Eighties: Captain Beefheart again: The Byrds and The Creation and The Kinks and all that white boy jangling guitar Sixties stuff: Television Personalities: plenty more, but that’ll do for now.

If I were to pick 10 bands from the C-86 era to write more about – which should I choose?
The Pastels
Talulah Gosh
Shop Assistants
The Wolfhounds
Jasmine Minks
The Membranes
Big Flame
The Wedding Present
June Brides
The Legend!

(This is a random list, drawn from the top of my head – and I’d be amazed if I haven’t forgotten a load of great bands.)

Are there are any bands that surfaced after the tape but are still considered to be C-86?
Not for me to say – but some people may consider what Matt and Claire put out on Sarah Records to fall firmly within the “C86 category”. Talulah Cosh were actually post-C86 if my memory serves me correctly. Comet Gain are totally C86 – as were many of the Riot Grrrl bands (especially the later ones that lost the politics but retained the cutie edge). Oh, and I guess BMX Bandits would’ve loved to have been.

What other musical events (gigs, record releases etc) except for the tape made the year 1986 stand out?
I remember standing at a Soup Dragons Hammersmith Clarendon (upstairs) concert with a basket full of new Legend! fanzines (Wolfhounds/Razorcuts flexi) and not moving all evening – people coming up to me in a constant stream, as I sold about 130 copies. Also, I’d travel up to Bedford Esquires (and other venues) a great deal for their fine triple bills starring folk like Talulah Gosh and Big Flame and Membranes – shows put on by Nigel Turner, who now runs Pickled Egg Records. I can’t recall events – was ’86 Live Aid? USA Against Warmongering By Capitalist Countries? C86 was actually a massive disappointment to me: for a compilation that so clearly had its roots in all the bands I would write about for NME at the time, it was incredible I hated so much of it (it’s cos the compilers were too arrogant to consult a “kid” like me). I still don’t like much of the tape – it’s unrepresentative of its times certainly (as opposed to the brilliant C81 comp, five years earlier) and even unrepresentative of the small narrow strata of music it thought it was representing. I recall a Troublefunk show that I danced my ass off at.

Were there any venues or clubs that were central to C-86?
Was McGee still putting on shows then? If so, then whatever he was behind would have been central. If not, then certainly Dan Treacy’s Room At The Top, upstairs at the Enterprise Chalk Farm, next to the excellent Marine Ices shop where everyone would hang out before bands, was vital. As were Leigh’s shows at Woolwich Polytechnic and Nigel’s shows in Bedford. They were the main three I’d go to.

Was C-86 in general political – lyrically or musically? Or was it just shaped by the politics of the time? And was it working-class or middle-class?
Depends which strata of C86 you’re talking about: the crap pop bands like The Bodines and Mighty Mighty or god-awful Close Lobsters certainly weren’t political. The more obviously Beefheart-influenced bands like Stump and The Shrubs and Big Flame and The MacKenzies seemed to be on the surface – although it’s arguable that was only because of the style of music (angular, awkward, challenging) they were aping. The Age of Chance seemed revolutionary, the way they matched guitar pop to dance rhythms, and were unfortunately (for them) 10 year ahead of their time. Half-Man Half-Morons (who should NEVER have been near the compilation) were an out-and-out joke band.

The temptation nowadays when faced with a crop of ‘indie’ bands is to automatically think of them as middle-class but looking down the list on C86 I’d have to say most of them are working-class (probably in some last echo of punk’s diverse roots that spread out to the working-class communities from its middle-class origins with Strummer and McClaren and that whole London thing). Most of those C86 would’ve played benefits for the miner’s strike and the like… again, I think this was probably part genuine outrage at the Thatcher years, and probably part follow-on from punk and post-punk’s obvious political leanings. Yes, of course the bands were shaped by their times, and among that section of society in the mid-Eighties, dissent was very much to the front.

Interesting that, out of 22 bands on the compilation, only three of them are female.

I’ve heard that there wasn’t a homogenous indiepop sub-culture before C-86. Is that true? And what were the identifying markers of anoraks, both on the surface and ideologically?
No, there wasn’t – not readily identifiable, at least. The most it amounted to was boys like Bobby Gillespie and Edwyn Collins who wore their hair like members of The Byrds: there was definitely a Mod and Sixties crossover with some of the more jangling elements of the independent sector (thanks a lot to the Creation Records aesthetic) but no… To be honest, I don’t think C86 was the main factor behind ‘indiepop’… that was more down to the law of diminishing returns and Sarah Records’ (in particular) sometimes inspirational but more often damn right annoying tunnel vision and insistence on sticking with ONE PARTICULAR SOUND, no messing (and certainly with no room for females, barring the ever-present Amelia Fletcher). Anoraks were NOT the norm in ’86 (Stephen Pastel wore one, but with leather trousers) not at all… it was the younger brothers of the C86 generation who decided that they were cool, not the people of the time.

Where did C-86 go? Did it merge with other genres or did it all turn into twee?
Let’s get this straight. C86 didn’t actually exist as a sound, or style. It was supposed to be a “state of the independents” compilation, similar to C81. The reason it wasn’t was down to the myopic vision of its compilers. The reason it wasn’t stronger was because major contributor behind the scenes, Neil Taylor – who only ever chose to write about bands I’d reviewed two weeks before – had no actual idea about music beyond reading other journalists. I loved soul and dance music at the time of C86. But the compilation didn’t reflect any of that. One half of C86 obviously turned twee – was already on the verge even as the tape was being put together. The other half continued existing merrily on its own terms thanks very much.

What’s your definition of C-86 today?
I don’t have one. See above. And I find it weird bordering on surreal that people are starting to use it again, specifically to sell seven-inch singles on eBay. No one used the term back then. They really didn’t.

And now the more important questions, especially tailored for you:
I assume you wrote the fanzine The Legend! – how would you describe it?
Impassioned, arrogant, self-obsessed, determined to strike its own path separate to the great morass of fanzines who all just seemed to be content with being third-rate copies of NME (I always knew I couldn’t do interviews, so I never ran a single one in any of the five issues of The Legend!)…naïve, futile, excitable, plenty of exclamation marks, instant, brutally honest, refused to take any ads whatsoever (and yes, I was offered some), very proud of what it did… almost entirely written by me, designed and published by me…

What other fanzines do you remember liking and what distinguished them?
Idiot Strength, Are You Scared To Get Happy?, Juniper Beri-Beri, Attack On Bzag, The Rox, that damn magazine Miki and Emma did years before they formed Lush (Alphabet Soup), Incendiary, Hungry Beat… for pretty much the same reasons as I’ve detailed in the description of The Legend! (None were as passionate or extreme as mine, of course.)

You were writing both for your own fanzine as well as for the NME – was that uncommon? And what did you think about the NME ca 1986?
There were several of us who wrote for both our own magazines and the music press – me, John Robb, James Brown, probably several more. It wasn’t that uncommon, there was a great tradition of writers coming to the music press from fanzines that started during the early punk days – and to the best of my knowledge has continued through even till today. I hated NME but of course I secretly loved it too. I didn’t exactly socialise with any of the other journalists there… I was routinely ridiculed and looked down upon by my fellow writers, especially the more august ones (and with some reason: I still couldn’t string a sentence together at that point). Danny Kelly supported me, and Steven Wells and David Quantick. Cheers mates.

Were you involved with compiling the C-86 tape? Why was it put out and what determined which bands were on it? (If possible, compare with C-81.)
I think I’ve already answered this question above: it was basically intended as a “state of the independents” round up – NME had a tradition of putting out tape compilations, like C81, but covering all forms of music (Rebellious Jukebox was my all-time favourite, introducing me as it did to the wonders of Southern Soul Music: there were several others also, covering jazz and hip hop). This was at least a decade before the idea of giving music away with a music magazine had become so thoroughly devalued that nowadays you don’t even bother buying Mojo or Uncut unless they have a free CD attached, and even the broadsheets get in on the act…

I wasn’t involved. I should have been, but I was a jumped-up fanzine kid (who just happened to be introducing most of these previously ignored bands to the music press and their readers). The standing joke at the time was that the tape comprised all the bands who’d slept on my floor when they played London – Shop Assistants, Wedding Present, Pastels, Bogshed, A Witness, Age of Chance, Soup Dragons….If I’d been involved there’s no way bands like Mighty Mighty or Half-Man Half-Biscuit (neither of whom had ANYTHING to do with anything) would have been allowed near the tape.

How come the two in retrospect perhaps most classic C-86 bands, Razorcuts and Talulah Gosh, were not on the tape?
I’m fairly sure Talulah Gosh were only just emerging right about the time the tape came out, so you can hardly blame the NME for not including them. (Why no June Brides, though? That was a bigger scandal.) And same held true of Razorcuts (although I absolutely LOVED that band by the time C86 appeared)… as I say, I had nothing to do with that tape despite being part of the inspiration for it. If I had then of course the ‘cuts would’ve been on it.

What were the connections between C-86 and other related terms such as anorak, shambling, jangle or twee? What did they mean and in what order did they emerge?
Anorak was something Simon Reynolds invented a couple of years later, in Melody Maker (he wrote a big article in ’88 on the whole fanzine ‘scene’, which by that time had moved along to the Canterbury Arms in Brixton, I think, that included massive pictures of John Robb and me – much to NME’s disgust). I think he may have invented ‘twee’ at the same time. Both are horrible condescending words. Ugh! Jangle was probably around since ’81 or so, with Orange Juice and the bands that loved Sixties groups like The Byrds. Shambling (and the thankfully underused grebo) has been credited to John Peel circa ’85 – but I never listened to him so I wouldn’t know. I think it was taken to mean bands like The Fall, and the Beefheart-influenced lot, who didn’t care so much whether everything was perfectly produced or polished, but had a more ‘shambolic’ approach to recording and playing live. I used to think it meant any band that took more than three attempts to start a song… in which case Teenage Fanclub early on were the ultimate shambling band. But to me, Bogshed always were.

Why did the NME turn on a scene of their own creation and start using the term ‘C-86’ in a scornful manner?
That was because most of the writers never liked it in the first place – and also cos the description quickly codified into a certain sound. And that always sucks when that happens.

Some people seem to think the invention of ‘C-86’ killed off indiepop. What were the negative as well as the positive effects?
I can’t comment here; neither term actually means much to me as descriptions of a genre of music (the two are synonymous as far as I’m concerned) so the question is meaningless. Cheers, Everett

This feels cleansing.

Earlier this evening, I was floundering: unable to decide what to do with the remains of a slow-cooked pork roast. Looked at, and discarded, many recipes without even testing them. Finally, I decided to throw in a few slices of apple, a scattering of brown sugar, some vintage cheddar – of course – and toast the whole caboodle up in Daisy, our migrated sandwich toaster. The apple offset the vaguely ’school dinner’ taste of the roast, most excellently. All of this is by way of saying, I still don’t appreciate bands who slavishly copy the past – yes, I’m still looking your way, The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart – even while I can’t help but relish points of common interest.

Pocketbooks sound like the sort of group The Famous Five would’ve formed, post-university and still not jaded, Georgie having given up all pretension to be a lesbian: butter wouldn’t melt, burnished bright and crystal-clear – confident, ah yes, confident. You must be confident to create such sweet April March pop music as this. Everything is florid. Everything is tempered. Everything is left to linger for a few more special moments in the warm summer air, before another flourish of brass, another timpani of piano comes breezing in. Someone whispered “The Siddeleys” to me, but that merely put me off. I don’t do obscure unless there’s a good reason for it.

This is Bacharach, and this is Bob Stanley. This is all those 60s pop groups who never aspired to be as cocky or salacious as The Shangri-La’s. This is 6pm practice for choral song after school. This is The Pale Fountains. This is Dickon Edwards. This is Sarah Records without any delusions of inadequacy. None of these might seem to be recommendations to you – same as my hastily-discovered solution to meat leftovers might seem even vaguely palatable – but shit. I know what I like, and I like this.

The female singer’s voice reminds me of Wendy from The Popguns. How can I not like this? We all need our secret local crushes.

If you are a regular reader of this dusty corner of the internet then you probably get excited by the likes of Orange Juice, the Monochrome Set , Vic Godard, the Bluebells and the Close Lobsters.  The promo sheet for Socialist Leisure Party lists off a few of those bands, and listening to it, made me think of the others.   So Socialist Leisure party have some choice influences going for them, but they also have pedigree.  Half the band (Andy Hitchcock and Kevin House) used to be in Action Painting!  Action Painting!  somehow got lumped in with British music papers manufactured scene called the New Wave of New Wave which included bands like SMASH and These Animal Men.  Yes it was quite a forgettable scene, but I always liked Action Painting! They put out a handful of singles on Sarah and along with Boyracer seemed to be derided for not sounding like all the other bands on Sarah, meaning they were noisy.

Socialist Leisure Party would likely have fit much more comfortably into the more typical Sarah Records style, but it’s 2009 and Sarah has been defunct for over ten years.  Not to worry though, thanks to the fine folks over at Shelflife, Socialist Leisure Party have a nice home and a snazzy new release that is one part 7 inch and one part CD.  Tactical POP! For Coffee Cadets is part of the Shelflife 1000 series where each release is limited to 300 copies and contains a record and a CD, both the exclusive tracks.  So you’re going to need both a turntable and a CD player to listen to the entire thing, and you will want to hear it, for the guitars jangle and whirl, and Andy Hitchcock vocals have that delicate balance between wistful melancholy and youthful nievete.

mp3: Socialist Leisure Party – Head In the Hay (buy Tactical POP! For Coffee Cadets)

Here are couple bonus mp3’s from Action Painting!:
mp3: Action Painting! – Collapsing Cloud (from Sarah 087)

This playlist is based on the the most played tracks tagged as Sarah Records at last.fm although I have not included non Sarah Records artists. I have also added a few favourites of mine too which were not on the list.

Sarah Records was a UK independent record label active between 1987 and 1995,best known for its recordings of twee pop.

The label was formed in Bristol in 1987 by Clare Wadd and Matt Haynes, and grew out of the fanzine scene at the time, Haynes having previously edited Are You Scared To Get Happy?, and Wadd Kvatch. Both these fanzines had given away flexidiscs – indeed, AYSTGH had been part of the Sha-la-la o anisation, a record label set up solely to produce flexidiscs. Several Sarah releases were fanzines and flexi-discs, as it was felt this summed up the aesthetic of the label better than 12″ singles and albums.

Sarah Records was usually seen as being grounded in the C86 jangly indie-pop sensibility, though the late Seventies DIY scene and independent yet stylish and imaginative labels such as Postcard Records, Factory and Creation, plus the mid-Eighties fanzine culture, were bigger influences. It ceased operation with the release of There and Back Again Lane, the hundredth release in the main catalogue sequence – a booklet telling the story of the label, along with a CD of representative tracks. Half-page adverts entitled “A Day For Destroying Things” in both NME and Melody Maker marked the release. “We don’t do encores”, the advert announced, and the label has stuck by this sentiment, with no further releases. Bands on the label included Heavenly, East River Pipe, The Orchids, Even As We Speak, Boyracer, Brighter, Blueboy, The Field Mice, Another Sunny Day and St. Christopher. (via wikipedia)

Play Sarah Records – Last.FM Top Tagged Tracks

To view the tracklisting (and to give the playlist a vote) visit Sharemyplaylists.com

There And Back Again Lane, named after an actual road name in Bristol which was where the label was based, was the last ever release on Sarah Records. The label took out adverts in the NME and Melody Maker entitled a day for destroying things.

a day for destroying things…

… because when you were nineteen

didn’t YOU ever want to create something beautiful and pure
just so that one day you could set it on fire
and then watch the city light up as it burned?
Didn’t you want to do that every day of your life?

Nothing should be forever.
Bands should do one single and then split-up,
fanzines finish after one flawless issue,
lovers leave in the rain at 5am and never be seen again -

Habit and fear of change are the worst reasons for ever doing ANYTHING.

Stopping a record-label after 100 perfect releases
is the most gorgeous pop art-statement ever
and says more about pop-music than any two-part digipak
limited-edition coloured-vinyl 7″
grimly authentic lo-fi ten-track EP
(or any other marketing gimmick)
ever will.

Sarah Records is owned by no-one but us,
so it’s OURS to create and destroy how we want
and we don’t do encores.

We want to burn in bright colours and go pop,
to be giddy, impulsive and silly,
to kiss people in new places -
EXQUISITELY
- and dare to tear things apart.

The first act of revolution is destruction
and the first thing to destroy is THE PAST.
scary
like falling in love
it reminds us we’re alive

Sarah Records 1987 – 1995

Play There And Back Again Lane

Homepage

The Sea Urchins Stardust was a compilation of their three single releases for Sarah Records plus their Sha La La and Kvatch flexi disc releases. It also contained two previously unreleased tracks (“You’re So Much” and “Day Into Day”). Stardust includes the single Pristine Christine which was the first ever release on Sarah Records.

After releasing the Please Don’t Cry single on Cheree the band later became Delta.

Play Stardust

My Space | Homepage

After returning home following a few internet free days away I find that Sarah Records releases have now started appearing on Spotify.

There were a couple floating around before but a significant number have been added. Sarah Records was a UK indie pop label that existed between 1987 – 1995. I’m not even going to start on it’s history so this user guide on e-music may be a good place to start.

Another good starting point is the fantastic Air Balloon Road compilation which features a number of my favourite Sarah Tracks. Check out Please Rain Fall by the Sea Urchins, You All Should Be Murdered by Another Sunny Day and End Of The Affair by The Field Mice for sure.

Play Air Balloon Road

Premier voyage à Londres, vers 1987 ou 1988, et revenu le sac chargé de disques dont celui-ci, acheté dans un magasin de Camden Town, et pas mal d’albums sur El Records… Ensuite, acheté tous les 45 tours de Sarah Records et fait le barman au festival Sarah au New Morning : qui y était ?

Fijn tijdverdrijf: een leuke band opzoeken op Myspace of Last.fm, op goed geluk doorklikken en liedjes luisteren. Zo kwam ik enkele weken geleden op de pagina van Then terecht. En bleef ik hangen… Then is een Spaanse band met een serieuze obsessie voor Ride, oude Britpop en Sarah Records.

Hun cover van de Another Sunny Day-klassieker ‘Anorak City‘ mag zonder blozen naast het origineel staan. Puur goud. Vorig jaar brachten de Catalaanse shoegazers twee EP’s uit in eigen beheer: ‘Dreams, Tapes, Hopes & Razorblades’ en ‘Happy Cloud’. Vrij te downloaden op Last.fm. En allebei echt wel de moeite. Go go go!

Then – Dreams, Tapes, Hopes & Razorblades

Then – Happy Cloud

En omdat het bijna Pasen is smijt ik er ook nog de originele versie van Anorak City tegenaan.

Glasgow’s The Wake, who had Bobby Gillespie in their original line up, formed in 1981. After releasing their own music they signed to Factory Records releasing a few singles and two albums for that label and it’s Benelux Subsidiary.

Whilst on Factory the bands sound moved away from it’s original post punk roots moving into indie pop territory which, along with poor sales, eventually saw the band being dropped as Factory moved into the dancefloor arena. However the people behind Sarah Records were big fans of the band and signed them up. Two more singles and two further albums followed. When Sarah Records folded in 1995 the band also slipped from view.

Play Tidal Wave Of Hype on Spotify

Note there is another band with the same name with later releases on Spotify. Unless Goth Techno is your thing avoid!

Brighter consisted of Alison Cousens, Keris Howard and Alex Sharkey. They came from Brighton, England and recorded for Sarah Records between 1988 and 1993 when they called it quits. Their music was a mix between indie pop and shoegaze whilst bordering on the melancholic. Howard later formed Hal and then Harper Lee.

Their music was later compiled on Matinee Recordings which meant indie pop revivalists could finally get their hands on the bands material. These compilations were Singles 1989 – 1992 (2002) and Out To Sea (2006).

There are two albums available on Spotify. These are Laurel (1991) and the compilation Disney & Other Singles (1992). I would recommend the latter as first port of call to get a feel of the bands music.

Play Disney & Other Singles on Spotify

Add To Playlist: Inside Out, Noah’s Ark, Poppy Day

Blueboy were a band on the cult indie label Sarah Records. I took this from wikipedia.

Blueboy initially consisted of Keith Girdler (vocals) and Paul Stewart (guitars), formerly of little-known band Feverfew. They soon signed to Sarah Records, releasing the single Clearer in 1991, and soon took on more members, including singer/cellist Gemma Townley and second guitarist Harvey Williams (of The Field Mice/Another Sunny Day). Clearer was followed by several singles and two LPs on Sarah, If Wishes Were Horses and Unisex. In October 1994, Blueboy recorded a session for John Peel’s BBC Radio 1 show. Their final release, The Bank of England, was released in 1998 on Sarah boss Matt Haynes’ new label, Shinkansen Records; by then, Girdler and Stewart were the only original members of the band. Girdler and Stewart were also involved in two other bands, Arabesque and Beaumont. Townley later joined Trembling Blue Stars, as did Williams.

Blueboy’s songwriting touches on the timeless indie-pop motifs of intimacy and vulnerability, with a modicum of sexual ambiguity, both in lyrics and cover artwork. Their sound combines the jangly guitar-based pop sound of their genre with elements of bossa nova and shoegazer.

Sadly Keith Girdler passed away in May 2007.

Play If Wishes Were Horses in Spotify

Add to playlist: Candy Bracelet, Cloud Babies, Amoroso

Unofficial Site

Wenn ich nicht zufällig bereits in den späten 80igern und frühen 90igern musikalisch hier und da schon mal etwas abseitiger unterwegs gewesen wäre, hätten mir The Pains of Being a Pure Heart sicher riesige wohlige warme Schauer über den Rücken gejagt. Aber ich habe damals mit viel Liebe und Hingabe Ride, Field Mice, Heavenly oder Even as we Speak gehört. Wobei auch hier gilt, was ich schon im Eintrag zu den Crocodiles postuliert habe: Man kann den Helden von damals wirklich misslungener huldigen. Mein Anspieltipp: Young Adult Friction.

7 Punkte für die Musik, 10 Punkte für den Bandnamen.

Und jetzt hören wir noch einmal gemeinsam Vapour Trail von Ride und verbeugen uns tief! Ganz tief. Immer wenn ich das Lied höre, möchte ich zwei Dinge sofort: 1. Wieder Schlagzeug spielen, 2. Noch einmal so herrlich dumm verliebt sein wie damals.

BTW: Danke, werter Musiksoulmate M., für die gesammelten Werke von Sarah Records! Wenn ich jetzt langsam aus meiner musikalischen Starre wiedererwache, werde ich mir Perle für Perle wieder gönnen. Dann folgt hier demnächst Blick auf das legendäre Label und seine Bands.

Und noch ein Nachtrag: Erinnert noch jemand Velocity Girl?? Ich muss gleich mal stöbern, ob ich die CD noch finde…

Entre els meus secrets maricultes més ben guardats, que em fan sentir de vegades membre d’una secreta i refinadíssima aristocràcia cultural, hi ha el de les discogràfiques independents angleses dels 80 i dels 90, facció “twee”: Cherry Red, Postcard, Creation, Rough Trade, Factory,  i… per damunt de tot… Sarah Records!

Sarah records podríem dir que és la discogràfica per excel·lència del twee pop, aquell estil a cavall dels 80 i els 90 que es va proposar a la vegada ser nyonyo i anticomercial i que tants discos tan bons com desconeguts ens ha donat! Tal i com va dir un periodista de la RDL, (ell parlava de The Field Mice, però jo parlaria de tot el twee): és el pont secret entre els Smiths i Belle and Sebastian! La discogràfica, en actiu de 1988 a 1995 i amb 100 referències de singles i unes 40 d’àlbums és una veritable mina per a tot amant del pop independent, en la seva versió nyonya. A Espanya aviat discogràfiques com Elefant, Subterfuge o Jabalina van seguir els passos de Sarah. Sense enrotllar-me més, heus aquí unes pinzellades d’alguns dels artistes de Sarah que més m’agraden:

Talulah Gosh / Heavenly

Aquest grup de punk-pop feminista és el nexe entre la fornada C86 (el primer intent seriós de pop indie post-smiths, d’on van sortir gent com Primal Scream o The Wedding Present) i Sarah Records, discogràfica on van anar a parar per transformar-se en Heavenly. Per damunt de tot, Talulah Gosh són frescor, pop i actitud! Segur que més d’una Riot grrrrrrl va copiar el seu estil! Us passo unes diapos:

Em fa ràbia no disposar d’un link a “My best friend” la meva cançó favorita de Talulah Gosh. Pel que fa al projecte Heavenly, en quant a actitud no van anar a la cua: ens van regalar títols tan impagables com “Sperm meets egg, so what?” o “Trophy girlfriend” que, per suposat no van sonar als 40 principals! Per a vosaltres “P.U.N.K. girl”, que tant recorda al mític “Soy una punk” d’Aerolíneas Federales:

The Field Mice

El grup enblema de Sarah, mestres del pop ensucrat amb lletres enverinades. Realment quan entres en l’univers de Bob Wratten, el lletrista i líder del grup, t’adones que sota l’embolcall nyonyo i la seva veu dolça, les lletres són xungues xungues (xunguíssimes!!!). Si t’agrada recrear-te en la merda, en els errors sentimentals i en la inutilitat del desig o els pensaments xungos que et poden venir al cap mentre contemples la teva parella dormint, Field Mice són el teu grup (i els posteriors projectes de Bobby Wratten: Northern Picture Library i Trembling Blue Stars). Sònicament van tenir una evolució molt interessant, del pop naif minimalista i perfecte de “Emma’s house” o “Fabulous Friend” van passar a coquetejar amb el folk (Wrong Turn and Raindrops, Coach station reunion) , el shoegaze (Sensitive, White), el dream pop (Five moments) i el house (Missing the moon), però sense perdre mai les seves senyes d’identitat: nyonyeria desacomplexada amb tendències depressives i anticomercialitat a parts iguals. Sí, es nota que m’agraden i és que jo sóc dels que desitjaria passar l’estiu en una ciutat plujosa tipus Amsterdam o Donostia, i em consolo perquè al cap i a la fi, com deia Bobby, “September’s not so far away”.

I si The Field Mice eren el grup enblema de Sarah (tot i que mai van aconseguir èxit de vendes), “Sensitive” és el seu hit per antonomàsia, amb una lletra que és tot actitud (del pal: “sí sóc hipersensible, i què?”), i més venint d’un home heterosexual. No puc deixar de recomanar-vos el doble recopilatori “Where’d you learn to kiss that way” (meravellós títol), on, per cert, les millors cançons són al segon disc (avís a navegants). Per a tots vosaltres, “Sensitive”:

Another Sunny Day

Harvey Williams, guitarrista de The Field Mice, va deixar el grup per formar aquest projecte fantasma (en realitat Another Sunny Day és Harvey Williams en solitari). Les lletres són molt semblants a les del seu ex-company musical Bobby Wratten, diria que més nyonyes encara (sense el contrapunt xungo-pessimista marca de la casa de Bobby). Tot i que el seu hit “You should all be murdered” on enumera tot el que no li agrada per acabar apostillant que mereixerien ser morts, és tot menys nyonyo. Harvey va fer una rèplica sònica dels Smiths que és més papista que el papa. Veritat que “You should all be murdered” podria passar per single dels Smiths?

Blueboy

Definitivament, Belle and Sebastian es van repassar de pe a pa el catàleg de Sarah records, perquè darrera de la disfressa sixties, retro, classicista i chic del grup escocès hi ha la música de moltes bandes de Sarah i, sobretot, la veu de Keith Girdler, líder de Blueboy. No em digueu que Stuart de Belle and Sebastian no té una veu clavada a la de Keith després de sentir el link que us poso a sota!

La de Blueboy (no confondre amb la revista porno del mateix nom) és una història tan trista com la de la resta dels grups de Sarah: preciosisme, zero èxit comercial i, sobretot, no deixo de pensar amb la maledicció que va fer que el pobre Keith morís de càncer ara farà 3 anys. Per la posteritat queden els jocs de veus que feia amb Gemma Townley i que tant bé quedaven tot i desafinar a posta, per no parlar del gràcil i elegant punteig i rascat de guitarres que arriba allà on Johnny Marr podia haver arribat si els Smiths haguessin continuat junts. Imprescindible el seu debut, de 1992, “If wishes were horses”.