Duff Review: Vivien Goldman "Resolutionary (Songs 1979-1982)"

Staubgold Records
2016
CD/LP

(Review by Steve Shafer)

In the early 1970s, Vivien Goldman's first and incredibly auspicious job right out of university was serving as Bob Marley's public relations person at Island Records (years later, she was Marley's biographer), just as the label released Bob Marley and The Wailers' first major label album--Catch a Fire--which had been specifically crafted by Chris Blackwell to appeal to the white rock crowd (and obviously worked spectacularly well). Whether or not this cross pop-cultural mash-up (at a time when the British and American music scenes were still largely segregated) set Goldman on her path mining the intersections of frisson between diverse musical genres is a matter of conjecture, but it certainly serves as an apt illustration of what became her life's work and passion. By the middle of that decade in the UK, when punk, reggae, and dub ripped everything up and started again, Goldman already had departed Island to become a music journalist doing interviews and writing reviews for Sounds, New Musical Express, and Melody Maker, covering an omnivorous array of key punk, post-punk, and reggae artists (see this list of her many pieces).

Not surprisingly, it was a time when, according to Goldman, "there were no barriers between journalist and artist." She was living, socializing, and collaborating in the same Ladbroke Grove, London neighborhood as many of the punk and reggae acts she was writing about in the music weeklies (such as members of The Clash and Aswad; Chrissie Hynde was her roomie for a time). A gifted soprano, Goldman grew up in a musical family (she and her sisters sang, her father played violin--an instrument that appears on many of her songs) and apparently was always singing, which--along with her connections to some of the most talented and daring post-punk and reggae/dub musicians in the UK--led to her writing and performing songs with David Cunningham and The Flying Lizards in 1979, as well as singing (with Neneh Cherry and The Slits' Ari-Up) on Adrian Sherwood's productions for Prince Far-I in 1980 and the New Age Steppers in 1981. That year, she also recorded her debut solo single, "Launderette" b/w "Private Armies" ("Private Armies" also appeared in its dub version on the debut New Age Steppers LP). In 1982, she moved to Paris to write for Actuel magazine and became highly enamored with African pop music (which she played on her pirate Radio Nova show "Cherie Noire" with Eve Blouin), recording and releasing the "It's Only Money" 12" EP in 1982 with Blouin as the duo Chantage (which is French for blackmail).

While Goldman would go on to write and record with groups like Massive Attack ("Sly"), Ryuichi Sakamoto, Coldcut, and Luscious Jackson, as well as with several house music producers, Resolutionary focuses on her recordings from the late 70s/early 80s--an era brilliant for its great fluidity between musical genres and the easy exchange between artists from markedly divergent scenes that oftentimes resulted in extraordinarily innovative and challenging music, some prime examples of which can be found here (punk had, at least temporarily, freed a generation of young musicians from pop music's constructs).

The "Launderette" b/w "Private Armies" single (issued in the UK as a 7" by Window/Rough Trade and as the Dirty Washing 12"--which included "P.A. Dub"--via NYC's pioneering art/punk label 99 Records, home to Liquid Liquid, ESG, Bush Tetras, Maximum Joy, Glen Branca, and others) is reason enough to pick up this compilation of Goldman's work (and considering that the original 7" and 12" versions command very high prices, they're an absolute bargain here). These tracks are unequivocal (and somewhat shamefully obscure on this side of the pond) post-punk gems.

"Launderette," written by Goldman and Aswad's bassist George Oban (who came up with the song's distinctive and catchy bass line), was apparently surreptitiously recorded on Virgin's dime during Public Image Ltd.'s sessions for their Flowers of Romance album (but, considering how record deals are structured, it really was PIL's dime in the end, wasn't it now?), which is how John Lydon and Keith Levene ended up with producer's credit on the tracks. Goldman was backed by PIL's Keith Levene, Robert Wyatt, Vicki Aspinall of The Raincoats, Steve Beresford of The Slits and The Flying Lizards, and George Oban. It's a slightly uncomfortable, off-kilter, shambling track that feels a bit tentative and improvised in spots. The bass and drums are firmly planted in reggae territory--particularly the prominent, fluid, and continually unfolding bass line--but the dissonant, droning violin and slashes of guitar, the tinkly toy piano, and crazy collection of busy percussive instruments clash with and grate against the orderly rhythm section, threatening to derail everything (but don't). Floating above all of this tension is Goldman's lovely singing--her delivery is wonderfully conversational and free of any vocal mannerisms. It's almost as if she's recounting this short, unsatisfying affair in her head (particularly the lyric, "I had to learn to say no") as she encounters her ex in the very same ordinary place they met.

"I wanted tenpence for the dryer
Yes, that was how we met
My laundry bag was broken
My clothes were soaking wet
I felt I needed hugging
You needed board and lodging

I can't complain
We went down the drain
Seems like I can't get away from you
Even in the launderette

Now my socks to your socks in the dryer
And your jeans run into my shirt

You always were untidy

You wanted coffee round at my place
It all seemed just a lark
But you hadn't left there two weeks later
and your hair's all over the bath
It's good to get you to go
I had to learn to say no

I can't complain
We went down the drain
Seems like I can't get away from you
Even in the launderette

Now my socks to your socks in the dryer
And your jeans run into my shirt
I can't complain
We went down the drain

You always were untidy"



"Private Armies," written by Goldman and performed by many of the same musicians who backed her on "Launderette" (Shooz on drums, Keith Levene on guitar and bass, Steve Beresford on toy piano and bass, and Vicky Aspinall on violin) is another post-punk/reggae/dub cut--with an ominous, lurking bass line (which is more prominent in "P.A. Dub")--produced by Adrian Sherwood, who introduces Jungle-like percussion into the mix.

It's the harrowing tale of witnessing what one assumes is a racist attack, given the amount of racial violence in England at the time, that becomes a rumination on the capacity for violence in boys which is enabled/unleashed in men as they join groups, gangs or government/business sanctioned agents of violence (such as mercenary forces, counterintelligence agents, or the police) who attempt to enforce/impose a particular, often fascist, political agenda/viewpoint through brutality and murder. But at the end of the song, she completely takes the piss out of these men by mocking their macho obsession with violence and phallic-y guns in suggesting that it all may be because they're impotent (and unable to perform the most elemental male function--procreation). All of this obsession with power and might has to be compensating for something...

"Vernon and Norman, just sat in a Mini
While the skinheads beat shit out of person on the pavement
Blood everywhere

Sets of initials with licenses to kill
Brand name business footing the bill
Blood everywhere

Private armies
Private armies
Blood everywhere

Little boys like dressing up
Little boys like dressing up
Dressing up in uniform
Little boys' toys blow things up
Little boys' toys blow things up

If the heavy metal boys or the boys in blue
Don't like the look of you, you'd better watch out
Really out of order
Really out of order

If you can't get a hard-on, get a gun
If you can't get a hard-on, get a gun"



The two Flying Lizards tracks (with Viv Albertine of The Slits and David Toop on guitar, Steve Beresford on bass and piano, George Oban on bass, Dave Solomon on drums, Bruce Smith on hi-hat) actually chronologically precede Goldman's debut single, but they're in the same vein--offbeat, funky reggae-influenced post-punk tracks conveyed from a woman's perspective. "Her Story" (written by Dave Solomon, David Cunningham, General Strike, and Goldman) concerns the historic (and continuing) subjugation of women and their treatment as property throughout a great deal of recorded history--and how men even profit from recording love songs to/about women, while treating them so shabbily and considerably less than equals.

Vivien Goldman (sung):
"Knights in shiny armor
Always takes the key
History, history, hypocrisy
But you can still make money
By singing sweet songs of love"

David Toop (spoken in monotone):
"I own you
You don't own me
You are my territory
This is a love song
This is a love song"

Vivien Goldman (sung):
"I blame our books
I blame the TV
I blame Top 20 for my jealousy
But you can still make money
By singing sweet songs of love"

The truly disturbing song "The Window" (written by Goldman)--shades of The Special AKA's "The Boiler"--turns the supposed eroticism of "Dracula" and similar misogynistic myths (virginal women want to be dominated and forcibly seduced/taken) on its head in this stalker scenario--a man is trying to break into a woman's home and her thoughts on the matter are crystal clear:

"Can you hear him bang at the window?
(He's throwing things at the window)

I don't want to let him in
I wish he wasn't twice my size

Sometimes I think he's a vampire
(He's making holes to drain blood)"

The fact that Goldman sings these lyrics in an almost resigned, matter-of-fact way--she's been here before and previously physically suffered from his abuse--is all the more creepy. The song ends with the crappy choice before her: "Sometimes you fight for the world/Sometimes you fight for yourself/Should I sit and listen/Sit, wait, listen hoping that the door's shut tight?"

Things shift dramatically with Chantage's marvelous and giddily euphoric full-on reggae cover of Bob Marley and The Wailers' "Do It Nice," cheekily retitled "Same Thing Twice" to emphasize the come-on of the chorus: "Baby, you're so nice/I'd like to do the same thing twice!" It'd be hard to resist an offer that sounds this fun and good. Goldman's and Blouin's delightful, insouciant "It's Only Money" ("...and every day it's worth a little less") has a melodramatic musical theater vibe to it (and a cynicism towards commerce/capitalism that reminds one of Cabaret's "Money"), albeit one that is set in the fantastic crossroads of a several dozen cultures, where Roma violins meet African soukous guitar, Trinidadian steel pan drums, Cuban, Dominican, and Puerto Rican dance rhythms, Broadway--even a smidgen of British music hall. (Indeed, all of Chantage's songs are concerned with some sort of transaction between people, whether it's financial, emotional, or physical). The musical portion of the compilation closes with the short-but-sweet, a cappella "Tu M'Fais Rire" ("You make me laugh"), which sounds like a '60s French pop song and where Goldman's and Blouin's voices complement each other beautifully (all of Chantage's tracks were produced by Adrian Sherwood, Alan Jakoby, Carroll Thompson, Chantage, and Chris Thomas--and feature a wonderfully international group of musicians, including George Oban on bass, Bruce Smith of The Pop Group/Slits/New Age Steppers and Style Scott on drums, Jerry Malenkani on guitar, Deadly Headly and Annie Whitehead on horns, Bubbles on steel pan drums, Steve Beresford on piano and euphonium, Jancsi Hosszu on violin, and Ann Howard, Archie Pool, Carroll Thompson, and Neneh Cherry on backup vocals).

The last track is an interesting time capsule of sorts--an interview with Goldman from 1981, after the release of the "Launderette"/"Private Armies" single, with audio zine "Morrocci Klung!" that was released/distributed on cassette. In it, Goldman discusses the meaning of these songs (and dispels some of the incorrect interpretations at that time), gender politics, men's tendency to express themselves through violence, and the assassination of John Lennon.

A long-overdue retrospective of (a good portion of) her musical work, Vivien Goldman's Resolutionary (Songs 1979-1982) is jammed full of very smart, oftentimes provocative, and always incredibly enjoyable songs--and is a vital post-punk document. As a diehard fan of that phenomenal era of music, attitude, and style, I almost can't express how happy I am to have this album in my collection...

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End notes: Vivien Goldman is currently an adjunct "Punk Professor" at NYU and recently wrote a musical based on Kid Creole and the Coconuts' story with August Darnell.

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