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Man Man - Cake Shop
Descending the stairs into the sloping basement of Cake Shop for the first time, I was struck by two things. One, it smelled like a gym. Two, I couldn't see the stage. Pack a hundred under-deodorized bodies in this space and it becomes a stinky oven with horrible sight lines. Somewhere up ahead and slightly down, a band was playing; around us there were more variations of hipster body hair on display than I'd see at any one show. If it weren't for Man Man and their devilish brand of salty, percussive sing-alongs, I'd have stayed but five minutes. It's not that body odor or hirsute hipsters bother me that much. But if I can't even see the band playing what's the point of being there?
There was no way we would stare at the back of people's heads for Man Man, so Jeff (one of our new contributors) and I fought our way up to the front and around to the left of the band. From this vantage point we were nearly on top of Man Man's propulsive rhythm section. It was the perfect spot to observe their madness. Man Man is a rhythm section, one that chugs and churns with rampant enthusiasm. At one time or another, all five members participated in the rhythm, banging cans or pounding cowbells.
Man Man live is a five ring circus, with mustachio clowns leading the entertainment with toy instruments, hoots and hollers and delirious drinking songs sung in raspy growls and delirious falsetto.
The band were in town to promote the release of their second album, Six Demon Bag, to be released February 21 by Ace Fu Records. Near all of the new record was played live, with a helping of highlights from The Man in a Blue Turban With a Face. Requests were made for at the end for "Werewolf (On the Hood of Yer Heartbreak)", but the band were on their way out into the cool night. Hopefully when they return the venue will be bigger and the air will be conditioned.
Where Have All The Baggys Gone?
Don't let the fact that Natasha Noramly was once the bassist for Scotland's interminably sluggish post-rock latecomers Ganger sour your pre-conceptions toward her latest group Fuck-Off Machete. The differences are night and day.
With one album already under the band's collective belt, their new EP If Gold Was Silver and Silver Was Gold (on Highpoint Lowlife) has Fuck-Off Machete poised to come out swinging wildly (and loudly) in 2006. While the EP's title track begins with a riff reminiscent of something from Helmet's Meantime, it almost immediately shifts gears into the kind of arthouse punk-pop perfected earlier this decade by One Louder faves Life Without Buildings. In fact, there are several instances throughout the EP which betray an appreciation of LWB's Sue Tompkins—if not necessarily in style, certainly in spirit.
Almost as stark an influence would be Sonic Youth's Kim Gordon, especially on the track available for download at label's site: "Copper and Lead Fight" (MP3).
So naturally an EP like this would wrap itself up with some noodly, more experimental song, wouldn't it? Not in this case. The most straight-forward of the songs is "Fall in Trust," which proves Fuck-Off Machete can pen a memorable hook if they desire—even if that hook is like an island in the sea of dissonant guitars and pounding 4/4 percussion which surround it.
The label hints the band's second LP will be out this Spring, but the chaturbate site only mentions that another single/EP has been completed and will be released soon. Either way, I'm eager to hear more of what this trio can accomplish.
Part Four - Northside
I'm very grateful for the kind people who have commented on this little series. These interesting remarks have opened my eyes to a number of Madchester bands I missed on completely: the Mock Turtles, Northside, the New Fast Automatic Daffodils, Flowered Up, The Top, World of Twist etc. Maybe it's better that I've never heard some of them, but I'm happy to learn there's more out there to explore. Judging from James's insight, I should begin by listening to Northside and New FADS.
For some bands, it seems to come easy. Tony Wilson, the founder and boss of Factory Records, signed Northside to his influential label before the band had played one show. Under Wilson's watch, Northside released two moderately popular singles in the U.K. in 1990, "We Take A Trip" (which was banned on Radio 1 for its drug allusions) and "My Rising Star".
Following these successes, the band went into the studio with Ian Broudie (of Big in Japan, Lightning Seeds fame) and produced their only record, Chicken Rhythms. "... something brilliant is happening ... Northside are for real" wrote New Musical Express. Others were less kind. "Northside takes some chances here and there, and one can admire its desire to strive for originality," Alex Henderson opines in his All Music review. "But unfortunately, most of the songs are forgettable."
In May of 1991, NME writer Dele Fadele met with Northside to discuss their new single, "Take 5" (MP3), which the writer described as sounding like "Keith Richards after an amphetamine bout":
The way a lot of indie music just sounds the same. Everyone's going on this big Ride noise thing, there aren't any jasminlive individuals anymore. Oh, and by the way, Manic Street Preachers are crap. Who wants to burn out at 25? We're going to be around for a long while yet.'"
In this case unfortunately, a long while meant 1993. When Factory Records went broke in 1992, Northside were left without a label and soon split. Is Chicken Rhythms the last the world would hear from them? "Dermo's got a new band, I hear," James wrote in the comments for the Inspiral Carpets feature. "Timmy [Walsh, the guitarist] is missing, presumed stoned and Cliff's [the bassist Cliff Ogier] still Cliff. No-one ever hears anything from Paul [Walsh, drums]. 'Bass guitar!'"
Storms
If you live anywhere in the world outside of Australia and you've never heard Gersey, you're not alone. The band's last album Storms Dressed As Stars came oh-so close to being released in North America on the Kindercore label, except Kindercore went belly-up mere weeks before the event. That was three years ago.
Last October, Gersey returned somewhat unexpectedly with a new EP Eyes Are Wide Tonight and a new record deal through Inertia. With it, they brought more friction and intensity than anything they'd produced in the past. While the delicate touches aren't altogether forgotten, Gersey has moved on from earlier influences like Luna and The Chills to become quite a competent rock band. This track from the new EP should be all the convincing you'll need: "Small Change" (MP3).
Gersey's promising their third LP will appear at some point in 2006. If it's even half as good as either of their first two, most of the albums you buy this year will begin collecting dust as soon as it's released.
Quick Takes: The Orb - Okie Dokie It's the Orb on Kompakt
The Orb was genesis for me. My interest in electronic and ambient music began with them. Their influence inspired me to listen to Aphex Twin, Brian Eno, Orbital, System 7, Ultramarine, The KLF, and Jah Wobble. From there I found Acid House and Madchester, Industrial and Shoegaze. All it took was some little puffy clouds, and a Rickie Lee Jones sample. Simple.
Along the way to 2006 I lost my connection with the Orb. Their later albums, like Orblivion, Cydonia and Bicycles and Tricycles felt inessential and uninspiring. The Orb had created a spectacular sound world with their first three jasminelive records, but this fascinating place seemed to stop expanding somewhere around 1995. There were still interesting moments, like "Toxygene" on Orblivion or the demented "The Land of Green Ginger" on Bicycles and Tricycles. But honestly I thought the Orb were done.
With the back story out of the way, let me now say that Okie Doke It's the Orb on Kompakt is their best album, in my opinion, since 1992's U.F.Orb. Or at least it's the most fulfilling Orb album from first bleep to the last squelch. Thomas Fehlmann and Dr. Alex have created an absorbing collection, part dub-inflected beats and part pastoral dream works.
Where Have All The Baggys Gone?
When Madchester was at its peak in U.K. (roughly 1989 - 1991), I was just out of high school in Arizona, an unexpected place to attempt to monitor and participate in this very British phenomenon. The local independent record store carried dated copies of NME and Melody Maker, along with a spare selection of import CDs. I diligently bought these rags and scooped up any CDs I happened to find - a used copy of Pills `n' Thrills and Bellyaches, an import of The Stone Roses. A grungy little record shop near the University of Arizona sold me a Mondays T-Shirt, with "Call the Cops" printed in huge letters across the back. Being into these bands at the time didn't make me cool, it made me lonely.
The psychedelic fever of Madchester never spread to the scorched earth I called home, nor would it ever amount to much in the U.S. Soon the overpowering crunch of grunge would relegate Baggy to a multicolored, but minor footnote. I followed along with the scene for a while longer until the release of the Monday's abominable Yes Please extinguished all remaining interest. But now 15 years later, I find myself still fondly recalling those days and wondering what happened to bands like the Soup Dragons, New Fast Automatic Daffodils and yes, the Inspiral Carpets.
I remember The Inspiral Carpets for two things: Clint Boon's mop top and their irreverent slogan, "Cool as F*ck", which adorned t-shirts and got a kid arrested. If anything typified Baggy for me, an ignorant 20-year old, it was Clint Boon's hair. When I was a kid, we called it a bowl cut, i.e. put a bowl on your head and snip away the stray hairs hanging below the rim. Clint's look was signature, as was his instrument, a mighty Hammond organ that defined the band's psychedelic sound.
"Clint Boon seemed to know every f*cker in town," John Robb writes on the band's official site. "He's already been in bands with Mani [bassist for the Stone Roses], auditioned Ian Brown as a vocalist in a pre Inspiral project and was a shameless pop fanatic whose ambition was to be "as big as Elvis". Clint's keyboards gave the band a different edge, they made the jump from being a local band to being a pop band, it was the icing on the cake."
1989 was the epochal year for the Inspiral Carpets. Lineup changes brought them a new bassist, Marty Walsh and a singer Tom Hingley. The band formed its own label, Cow Records and released the acclaimed Trainsurfing EP. Three successful singles followed "Joe", "Find Out Why" and "Move", prompting Mute Records to sign the band. In 1990, they released their debut album, Life, and scored a modest U.S. Modern Rock radio hit with "This is How it Feels" (MP3). In preparation for their 1991 tour, the band hired future Oasis founder Noel Gallagher as a roadie, after they had turned him down for membership in the band.
With their second album, 1991's The Beast Inside, the Inspiral Carpets' popularity continued to grow. However, by 1992 the Madchester scene was in decline. The Carpets' third record, Revenge of the Goldfish, while producing the band's biggest single in the U.K. sold less than its predecessors. By 1995, the band had split.
Undaunted, Clint Boon continued to write music. He formed The Clint Boon Experience and released two albums, 1999's The Compact Guide to Pop Music and Space Travel and 2000's Life In Transition. Singer Tom Hingley went solo, releasing two albums under his own name before forming The Lovers.
In 2003, perhaps inspired by the success of 24 Hour Party People, the Inspiral Carpets reunited for a string of sell out concerts in the U.K. "Too many British pop bands burn out before they get their pay day," writes Robb. "And if the band that taught their ex roadie Noel Gallagher the ins and outs of rock n roll can get deserved recognition for their angular pop, then it would be a mighty justice indeed."
The Farm
Skimming around the internet the other day, I stumbled upon a band called Sing Sing. Had I kept up with the history of 90's shoegazers, I would have known that Lush guitarist and singer Emma Anderson formed Sing Sing soon after Lush split in 1997. Sing Sing have released two albums, The Joy of Sing Sing in 2001 and Sing Sing and I last July. I've heard neither, but this got me to thinking. I wonder what happened to other bands I was into around 1991-1993. Specifically, I was curious about the fate of the lesser known stars of Madchester?
The history and music of Madchester's leading acts, The Stone Roses and Happy Mondays are relatively well documented and familiar to Britpop fans. The Mondays were the subjects of a feature film and are still making music today, while the Roses' legacy lives on because of (or in spite of) mad Ian Brown's solo career and the canonization of the band's eponymous debut album.
But what happened to the bands that helped themselves to the spacious coattails of the Mondays, the Roses and perhaps the Charlatans (UK)? Here's what I found out with help from All Music and a little Googling:
The Farm - Best known for two big U.K. hits "Groovy Train" (MP3 clip) and "All Together Now" (very low bit rate MP3), from the 1991 album Spartacus, Liverpool's the Farm struggled for a long time to only briefly enjoy stardom. The band formed in the early 80's as Soul of Socialism (!?), became the Farm in the late `80s and gained notoriety in 1990 by releasing "Stepping Stone", a remake of the Monkees' hit "(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone". "Groovy Train" and "All Together Now" followed and propelled the band momentarily towards the upper reaches of the U.K. pop charts.
"The Farm have altered externally over the past half-decade but their heart and mind has remained true," NME wrote in its review of Spartacus in February, 1991. The magazine scored the album a 9/10. CMJ weighed in that year, saying "The Farm cultivates a bumper crop of intriguing and melodious delights." [Quotes taken from A Tribute to the Farm]
The creative bed soon went fallow and the Farm failed to match this popularity with subsequent singles or albums. They released their last album of new material, Hullabaloo, in 1994. The catchy sing-along vibe and all-for-one sentiment of "All Together Now" has kept the song in use, particular by English football teams. According to Wikipedia, the song was the official anthem of England's National Team during Euro 2004. England lost to Portugal in the quarterfinals, 2-2 on penalty kicks. Blimey.