Missive 69
23-05-2005
Singled Out

Missive 69

Dedicated as ever to Kelly and Mark – missing you always.

‘Singled Out – fucking with your headspace’

How these incomprehensible mutterings we fondly call Singled Out roll by, no sooner do we finish up with one and put it to Bedfordshire then along come another line up of top tooting singles all begging for attention and how can we resist – so for those wondering were the promised album reviews are these days – well many apologies but we will be getting our shit together for a long overdue purge shortly, please bear with me.

Our thoughts and wishes go out to the elfin princess Kylie who as you all must be aware has cancelled forthcoming live engagements due to health reasons. The tiny Antipodean who is, and we have actually walked passed her one time without even realising until a mate pointed it out, is the size of a seven inch single, is currently back in her homeland receiving treatment. We wish her a speedy and safe recovery.

Moving swiftly on currently reading obsession is the very splendid tome by Simon Reynolds entitled ‘Rip it up and start again’. An excellent companion to Jon Savage’s acclaimed ‘England’s Dreaming’, this well researched book tackles all you ever needed to know about the varying genres / divisions that emerged after punk’s all to expected fall out – covering the period 1978 – 1984 there’s something for everyone here from Tubeway Army – Duran Duran – Adam and the Ants – Fall – Gang of Year as well as appearances from all the usual suspects of the day. At this point I’d also like to thank the fuck wit who spilt his pint into my bag (which was carefully tucked on a seat at the Inch Blue gig last Saturday – Aug it wasn’t you) and near rendered the book unreadable as well as nearly ruining a few CD’s and a CD player – adding a whole new meaning to the expression ‘not being able to hold your ale’ (literally). And I’d also like to thank the hospitality shown by a certain Chas AKA Stillman whose one man show at the Bear we managed to catch and which finished with a blinding and, hey we have to admit, tear inducing version of ‘The Worst is Over’ – which kids you can now hear in all it beautiful glory on the five track ‘The Weightless’ EP which if memory serves we awarded the much craved Single of the Missive several musings ago – a song surely destined to floor every one who hears it. Go to www.stillman.org.uk and tell him how Godlike he is.

The last thing I do when writing up these little musings is to open with the best release, it’s one of those unsaid cardinal sins – almost like shooting your bolt or more so, a case of premature exaltation but hell – all the singles featured here are deserving of care and attention and in some cases much warranting your time and effort in tracking down and making your own. And so to the singles – starting with the best -

The Dunes ‘All the best friends were taken’ (Self Released). Literally just took delivery of this, on the way out for a spot of shopping I grabbed a handful of CD’s for the journey and when this shuffled up for its turn on the personal hi-fi – well let’s put it this way – one listen was all it took before I was hooked line and sinker. Duo The Dunes are I suppose what you’d term pastoral - tender and slow to burn, its certainly not your usual quick fumble under the covers – this is something more measured, resonant and staying. To borrow from the late, great and much missed John Peel when commenting on what he liked about the Smiths (way back all those years ago) he was classically quoted as saying he liked them because you couldn’t easily pick out what records they had in their collections in terms of influence, so to with the Dunes. This debut EP offers 4 sublime cuts of unassuming ramble pop that sound as though they’ve only ever known daylight from pictures in old books, all at once out of time and out of place their sound offers up a gently intoxicating brew of deep passion borne of something thought long lost that throws up a multitude of contradictions – out of shyness, timidity and sparseness comes steely resolve, romance and a richness of the kind rarely heard these days. The Dunes are steeped with a 60’s Canterbury mentality that’s honed around a poetic lyrical fabric from which the melodies curve and coalesce to usher a mystical almost magical charm that in turn invites comparisons to Nick Drake, Syd Barrett and latterly to Porcupine Trees’ Steven Wilson (just check out the spectral lull of the angelic ‘Tomorrow is Today’). Add to this the almost timeless gallic breeze of the ‘Wicker Man’ like vibe that’s especially evident on the crooked though absorbing opener ‘All the best friends were taken’ and you have an ensemble whose adept musicality has taken the path more commonly associated with both Candidate and Tunng only to shift it to the next level. ‘Put up your sword’ is awash with cascading chords, dreamy down tempo backdrops tinged with the lazily spun nuzzling aura of oceanic late evenings drifting into dawn, yet all said and done the haunting hitherto majestic softness of the closing ‘Remain in Me’ is the EP’s crowning glory. Rustic, nakedly beautiful and breathless, part Fahey as it dustily scratches away at your resistance until you can do nothing but succumb to its incandescent inner passion. An absolute treasure of a release and with that the celebrated Single of the Missive. www.dunes.org.uk

New Order ‘Jetstream’ (London). You have to hand it to New Order, even when it seems that they are only half arsed they still manage to shit pop gold at the drop of a hat and more importantly its of the calibre most bands would swoon for. ‘Jetstream’ is admittedly one of the worst cuts from their recent chart lurking full length ‘Waiting for the Sirens’ Call’ which I suppose goes some way to saying that it’s a pretty nifty album that those so far not having purchased should be either publicly ostracised at best and horse whipped at worst. Perhaps noticeable for the fact that the trademark floor rumbling Hookey bass growl has been mixed into oblivion which gives this the strange allure (in an age when most bands want to sound either like Joy Division or New Order), of actually making New Order sound like Electronic. Be warned, as with the recent ‘Kranky’ single, multiple remixes come your way with promised rejigs by Arthur Baker (‘Confusion’), Tom Neville and Richard X among the assembled attendees. ‘Jetstream’ features Scissor Sisters’ Ana Matronic shaking her bits and sweetly enhancing the set with an air of sultriness, elsewhere New Order do what New Order do best soar, sizzle, seduce and this baby is sure to guarantee currency on that permanently set aside club scene spot. Flip side features the smoothened sheen of the Richard X remix which ultimately gives it a stealth like (as opposed to subsonic) gloss.

Teenage Fanclub ‘Fallen Leaves’ (PeMa). No introductions needed here and in typically classic TFC fare a record that to be honest can only truly be described as being to cool for the hi-fi. Taken from their current full length – the gem like ‘Man – Made’, ‘Fallen Leaves’ is TFC by numbers and more, ludicrously infectious and set to smoulder rather than sizzle, this honeycombed sun drenched babe is factor 10 West Coast pop at its most casual that purrs, prickles and playfully finds its way into your heart with all the grace and certainty of an arrow from a bow. Flip over for the autumnal Blake tune ‘Falling Leaf’ a perfectly lulling slow burner wrapped in the faraway appeal of Moviola / Summer Hymns that all in all has you thinking that even if Sony can foolishly resist their charms then record racks everywhere would be less interesting places without the occasional promise of goodies from Glasgow’s finest and with that essential, of course

Death of Fashion ‘These Days’ (Canarsie). By all accounts this lot are wowing the New York cognoscenti with their neck hair rising spiky punk pop. Formed little over two years ago, quartet Death of Fashion have all the rugged grind happy chord play that suggests they could very well be the next crucial darlings of the underground. The debut 7” / CD EP (the former featuring two cuts the latter housing 5) ‘These days’ is just what the groove doctor ordered, an eye watering shot of skinny tie wearing wiry new wave that soars with tearfully euphoric abandon while cut to the bone with a devastating cool of the kind you’d always secretly wished the Psychedelic Furs would excel to in their prime, all at once electric and ethereal this is a blinding tour de force of catchy as hell life affirming pop. Death of Fashion it seems are pretty adept at plugging in to the whole CBGB’s legacy with Television and Iggy bruising the mix and being muddied with the early 80’s UK post punk vibe of Orange Juice / Josef K yet jarred by elements of the Weather Prophets as though fronted by Micro Disney / Fatima Mansions main man Cathal Coughlin (whatever happened to him?). DoF’s sound is dislocated, smooth, brutalised, groovy and strutting, there’s a matter of fact casualness about them just check out the lazy yeah well maybe attitude of ‘Oboe and Me’ which could easily have Franz Ferdinand choking with admiration while the overtly infectious twisting foot tapping grind of ‘Don’t act this way’ may well leave most needing imminent hip replacement surgery. Best of the bunch though the absolute killer like ‘It’s all ours’ with its updated take on Eddy Cochran’s ‘Summertime Blues’ as though put through the blender by the Ramones aided and abetted by Richard Hell is an awesome mash of speaker shaking potency while the closing ‘Brother Vibration’ is a seven minute free for all of wired jamming, post punk fixated angular rhythms, spiked skank that at its finale sounds not unlike a ravaged and bloody nosed Sparks doing an amped up ‘This town ain’t big enough for the both of us’. Absolutely essential hi-fi accessory for all the wannabe clued up crew. Deputy single of the missive. www.deathoffashion.com

The Longcut ‘A Quiet Life’ (Deltasonic). Anything but. This gnarled throw back to post punk is a feisty bruiser of sorts. The Longcut were last time featured here to glowing rapture for their frenzied debut ‘Transition’ (see Missive 48 pop pickers) which should be by rights selling for truckloads on Ebay. ‘A Quiet Life’ is pretty much more of the same, so sharp (and edgy with it) that it can scar just for being in the same room as it. Think of a seriously wired pre disco dolly Human League on their uppers fraught and frantic concocting a rampant spastic groove blended from the vicious unrelenting snarl of early Killing Joke and twisted perilously to the fractured dislocated dance speak of Joy Division and that kids is your ‘A Quiet Life’ – an uncompromising feast of jarring chords, end of the tether vocals and thickly dense potent groove all locked together with a vicious hypnotic circular rhythm. Flip over for the reducing club floors to rubble noodling dexterity of the instrumental ‘DVT’ which at first sounds like your average run of the mill post rock play acting before what seems like someone pouring kerosene over the mix for a spurt of frenzied sonic dismemberment. Last up the bruising ‘Dead Man’ is suitably couched in that legendary aura of Factory / Postcard classicism of yore, think of the weary detachment and self loathing of a punishing Joy Division bearing down heavy on a ‘Movement’ era wearily detached New Order shot through with the unflinching edginess of ‘Metal Box’ era PIL. Classy.

Seamless link time – from the Longcut to fellow Manchester club scene party pals Loose Canon – damn we couldn’t script it better -

Loose Canon ‘Altercation’ (Akoustik Anarkhy). You got to hand it to those well heeled dudes over at Akoustic Anarkhy central, not content with running up two previous Single of the Missives this year alone courtesy of Yacht Club and the cruelly wonderful Autokat, you get the feeling these guys are taking the piss big time. Now for the second time in as many months another corking release from the aA recording crews head prefects Loose Canon and hell do you know what it’s pretty damn poppy and, whisper it gently, their best to date. ‘Altercation’ is the kind of thing that Alan McGee used to piss his pants in excitement over in the those halcyon pre Oasis Creation days, soaring smoking jerky pop with shades of Joe Strummer as though taking time out to moonlight with a particularly perky My Bloody Valentine / Ride face off themselves being overseen and injected by Will Sergeant like search light stellar riffs. This babe will also appear on the labels forthcoming ‘Class aA – Beyond Entertainment’ compilation doing its stuff alongside a host of indie heroes such as Nine Black Alps and the aforementioned Yacht Club and the Longcut. Flip side ‘This empire we’ve created’ is a great mother of a hulking beast, fuzzy, wretched and as groovy as fuck, think down town late night fisticuffs between the Nomads and the Mummies, scuzzy lo-fi 60’s garage psyche at it’s mean and moodiest, shades n’ leathers optional but desirable. Essential addition to any record collection deserving of the description – classy. www.akoustikanarkhy.co.uk

Various ‘More soul that Wigan Casino’ (Fortuna Pop). Been way too long since we had anything to shake our asses off to courtesy of those gem pop dudes at Fortuna Pop until this dinky little treat arrived on the door step, and hey we have to admit that this another of those priceless four track / four band must have releases. ‘More soul than Wigan Casino’ gathers together the assembled talents of Kicker, Butterflies of Love, Comet Gain and Airport Girl, each going head to head with a lost classic from 60’s soul heaven. Kicker, what can I say, let’s be honest here there just aren’t enough Kicker records in the world for my liking, here seen getting to grips in splendid style with the Inciters 1965 hit ‘Since you left’ and when I tell you this is pure pop gold you better believe it. So sunny in demeanour I swear you can get tan from just playing it, so authentic it sounds like its stepped through a rip in time and the vocals well – damn just buy it and prove me wrong. Debut album (about time to) out shortly via Track and Field. Butterflies of Love will always hold as special place in the heart just for mere fact of being responsible for putting out the sublime ‘Rob a Bank’. This time they set about taking the Smokey Robinson penned Mary Wells hit ‘Two Lovers’ as their own. Recorded at the legendary Toerag studios (White Stripes and just about anyone else looking for that crisp decayed 60’s sound) this wired rereading sounds like its stepped off one of those great lost and found Pebbles compilations, of course you know that means its top drawer stuff. With hand forced up my back I’d have to say the Comet Gain’s delicious stab at Dena Barnes’ ‘If you ever walk out of my life’ edges the set as the best thing here, swirling organs, chiming sunburnt kaleidoscopic chime happy chords very much moulded in that classic Byrds-esque vibe and latterly Clock Strikes 13 – kinda makes you feel fuzzy in the places where you want to feel fuzzy and so gorgeous you’ll weep in joy. Closing the collection the near perfect Airport Girl tangle themselves up with ‘Lipstick traces (on a cigarette)’ originally recorded by Barry Spellman / O’Jays. Airport Girl are the masters at teasing out just about every emotion known to nature with each passing release, one minute ecstatic the next low at the point of breakdown and this shimmering soft psyche re-spray is no exception. Like being punched and tickled at the same time, this bitter sweet winkle boot wearing honey has classic the laid back sheen of Jesus and Mary Chain arcing in the same stratospheric environs more commonly occupied by the Velvets. Perfect stuff. www.fortunapo.com

The Futureheads ‘Decent days and nights’ (679). My how times have changed and how these lads have grown in stature since that first time that debut ‘Nul book standard’ EP 7” first crackled its way into life on the rickety hi-fi. Since then an acclaimed album and a flurry of singles including a pretty nifty cover of Kate Bush’s ‘Hounds of Love’ have elevated the band into the public conscience, and rightly so we say. A year on and they are still flogging that debut album and why not when its stuff like ‘Decent Days and Nights’ that gets to rattle out of the radio first thing in the morning. Jerky twisted punk pop with the emphasis on pop is what you get, not unlike the rich seam currently being mined by Dogs Die in Hot Cars, the Futureheads rain down with a stutter happy spasmodic cross fusion of XTC and Talking Heads grooves with a whiff of the Knack’s ‘My Sharona’ underpinning the event, wickedly infectious and as sharp as a razor blade this bullish baby craftily sneaks into your head and sets up base camp refusing to vacate until your driven to distraction. Flip over for the wildly boisterous ‘Appreciate the Effort’ which admittedly trashes the lead cut mainly for the fact it sounds so sadistically unruly, like a three way super group made up of the Nightingales, Fire Engines and the Scars. Elsewhere the imaginative ‘Banquo’, yep that same dude from the original slice ‘n’ slash horror Macbeth is done with the same waywardly off centre charm as made early Cud releases such a treat while ‘Boring the Children’ literally haemorrhages frantically drawn angular riffs for fun. Check out the multiple release formats to get the accompanying remixes that include the Spartan electrified ‘Shy Child Remix’, which ends up sounding like classic Specials with King Tubby / Sun Ra allusions. ‘DJ Naughty Edit’ sees them moulded into a pretty nifty primal Human League guise while, and call me an old curmudgeon, I have to admit to being smitten by the warped wobbly pastoral plinky plonky pop of the ‘Max Tundra’ treatment. Damn all in all a worthy addition to the record buying shopping list. www.thefutureheads.com

Leon ‘Be There’ (Freezer). One of those rare pop gems that defies any known or systematic notion of how perfect pop should be tailored, to say that this will catch you on the blind side and nuzzle under your defences with such infectious ease is to understate it cruelly. ‘Be There’ is all at once frail, flimsy, wonky and wonderful built around a simple but sapping nursery room clockwork piano dynamic and fat squelching beats, like a starry eyed pairing of Coldplay at their most emotionally fraught and Blur at their most dumbed down yet at their smouldering mercurial best with the added involvement of Air / Magnetic Fields into the mix yet that said the records you ought to be trawling for reference points are those by the criminally forgotten 18 Wheeler. ‘Be there’ is a taster for the soon to be released debut full length ‘Uppers and Downers’ finally recorded after a year of mishaps involving car crashes, broken limbs, stolen demos and police operations, one of those cuts that’s both soft and tingling, as light and airy as a slow drifting breeze and as crushingly punishing as an unrequited love while all the times craftily marinating elements of ELO’s ‘Diary of Horace Wimp’ and Human League’s ‘Louise’. ‘Prozac Generation’ on the flip is the best of the brace, Damon Albarn waking up to find he’s fell through a time rip into the 60’s caught in a daydream wilderness of ‘Strawberry Fields’ off cuts, teasing string sections and the kind of hi gloss swirling ear candy pop reminiscent of the Mock Turtles. A winner by any other name. www.whothehellisleon.com

Co–Star ‘Killer Love’ (Self Released). Judging by this debut three-track demo from London based quartet Co-Star it shouldn’t be too long before the nations collective ears are pricked in their direction. By all accounts one of the coolest things currently on the London live circuit (with theremins in tow apparently which to be honest we can’t get enough of), it’s not difficult to see why this lot are causing a word of mouth whisper across the knowing cognoscenti. Like Brand Violet before them, Co-Star bleed their infectious pop coda with a feint but distinctive 50’s edge that’s both sleek and hip grindingly groovy and top off the comparisons with the luxury of having a front lady who can coo, purr and seduce with the best of them. Yet where BV delight in all things sci-fi, kitsch and B-52’s Co – Star are edgier and very much moulded with a flinchingly potent new wave language, amid the lacerating riffs and twisting gear-changing rhythms Nikki Brooks teases, toys and trashes about dragging the compositions by the hair roots with a stinging raw intensity that swerves cutely between tempting and tormenting. ‘Killer Love’ is a throbbing sucker punching pop dynamo, an unrelenting tornado of tightly wound struts that hit you with all the subtlety of a hammer to the head. Flip side features the duck walking scatter cruise sneer of ‘Strange Days’ that to these ears sounds like a wired and mooching night on the tiles Stray Cats on heat, upbeat, smartly acute and borne of the kind of lip smacking infectious sheen that just simply begs to be swooned to, just check out the neat little Joe Meek flicks towards the end. Leaving the best of the set till last, ‘Here she comes’ parades with a sexy as hell late 60’s soft psyche vibe that initially sounds like a ringer for ‘Flowers’ era Bunnymen before picking up the pace dramatically to bare its teeth to take aim and waste all in its line of vision. Ones to watch for methinks. www.co-star.biz

And that’s your lot for (promise) one day back tomorrow where among the serenaded sounds a damn spiffing single from Warren Suicide; the equally wonderful White Rose Movement; a corker from Roy Moller; a little something from the Suffrajets; Special Needs; Elliott Brood; the Mules; the Fuzztones and a stack of other gear including the gem like debut from Shard.

Thanks for reading these ramblings and cheers to all the bands, labels and press reps who have made them possible – you know who you are.

Complaints, death threats and offers of marriage (the latter two being the same thing I suppose) readily encouraged, we do like emails and I promise not to bite and more importantly to reply.

Singled Out –pure free indulgence- untouched by hype ,ego, advertising, sponsorship and flying in the face of wankers who ought to know better but really haven’t got a clue’.

Take care of yourselves,

Lots of love,

Mark
X

Singled Out is best served chilled with a speciality side erder all lovingly tendered on a slow bake.

**Singled Out is a fat free product tested on Hi-Fi’s in controlled conditions. Repeated dosages may cause infrequent bouts of exuberance and wig flipping – if side effects continue – desist from all activities retire to a darkened room and repeat experience at maximum volume.

Singled Out was brought to you by ‘Our Records Are Better Than Yours – So ne ne ne ne ne’ productions – we reserve the right to dis your record collection – now piss off – over and out.