Duff Book Review: Lee Morris "2 Tone: Before, During & After"

(Review by Steve Shafer)

After several decades marred by a dearth of tomes about 2 Tone apart from George Marshall's foundational and wonderfully opinionated The Two Tone Story (1990) and an extraordinary chapter about 2 Tone in Dick Hebdige's Cut 'n' Mix: Culture, Identity and Caribbean Music (1987), we're finally in a golden age of plenty. The spigot began to open in the late 2000s, with autobiographies from Horace Panter and Pauline Black, plus Paul Williams' superb biography of The Specials, You're Wondering Now. And more recently, we've seen coverage of 2 Tone in Heather Augustyn's terrific surveys of the genre, Ska: An Oral History and Ska: The Music of Liberation; amazing autobiographies from Ranking Roger (read my review) and Madness (read my review); and the best oral history of 2 Tone one could hope for in Daniel Rachel's Walls Come Tumbling Down: The Music and Politics of Rock Against Racism, 2 Tone and Red Wedge. (Oh, and I published The Duff Guide to 2 Tone in 2020, as well!) 

To this crowded bookshelf, the discerning 2 Tone fan absolutely should add Lee Morris' book 2 Tone: Before, During & After (Paperback, Media House Books, 2020). Morris provides a comprehensive overview of every band that released music on the 2 Tone label (including the lesser-known, non-ska acts that were signed on the tail end of 2 Tone's existence, like Friday Club, The Higsons, and The Apollinaires), from their origins in the '70s up till the present day--and includes biographical sketches of all band members and key collaborators. (Plus there's a chapter on 2 Tone related bands, and if you ever make the pilgrimage to Coventry, info on the 2 Tone Trail.) Morris' book is crammed with details (and some welcome commentary) that help flesh out the entire 2 Tone story--and American fans, most of whom didn't have easy access to the British music publications breathlessly covering 2 Tone's rapid rise and prolonged flame out, will find it especially enlightening. I was particularly grateful for Morris' chapter on The Special AKA, since I knew too little of this band's history other than it's Phoenix-like rise from the post-Ghost Town ashes of The Specials; and that Jerry Dammers' perfectionism in crafting the magnificent In the Studio cost an ungodly sum, took forever to complete, and was so miserable an experience that Rhoda Dakar to this day has never listened to it.

2 Tone: Before, During & After is an essential and handy reference guide to the label--one that you'll be thumbing through for years to come (I certainly will be).

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The Surprising Musical Roots of The Specials' "Ghost Town"

(By Steve Shafer)

I recently tracked down a copy of Roland Link's excellent band bio of The Ruts (who, of course, backed the great Laurel Aitken as the Unitone on the two singles he released during the 2 Tone era; The Ruts also performed with Aitken on tour and for a John Peel session!) and came across a bit of info about The Specials' "Ghost Town" that was entirely new to me (and I've read and re-read two pretty authoritative books on the band-- George Marshall's "The Two Tone Story" and Paul Williams' "You're Wondering Now: The Specials from Conception to Reunion"--as well as numerous articles and features on the band and that song).

The Ruts' bass player Segs (AKA John Jennings) confesses in Link's "Love in Vain: The Story of The Ruts and Ruts D.C." that his band had swiped the bass line from Misty in Roots' fantastically dread and defiant "See Them Ah Come" for their first excursion into dub, "Black Man's Pinch (AKA Give Youth a Chance)"--the only recording of which can be found on The Ruts' phenomenal and positively blistering Peel Sessions Album. Misty (an all black UK roots reggae act) were good friends of The Ruts (all white punks), taught them how to play reggae, and the two bands played dozens of Rock Against Racism shows together in the late '70s. Misty in Roots also ran the People Unite label, which released The Ruts' debut single "In a Rut" and operated out of their own vibrant community center (the People Unite Creative Arts and Educational Centre) in Southall, London. The center and all of Misty's instruments and record stock were later destroyed by the notorious and racist Special Patrol Group during a police riot in the midst of a National Front march through this black/West Indian immigrant neighborhood; the band's co-manager Clarence Baker was beaten (along with many others) and grievously injured by the cops, and Baker was hospitalized for an extended period of time afterward; all of these outrageous and completely illegal events were conveyed in The Ruts' song "Jah War."

As it turns out, Jerry Dammers also nicked a considerable amount of Misty's "See Them Ah Come" for "Ghost Town" (listen to the former's keyboard line)! Check out this passage from Link's book: "[Misty co-manager and sound technician] Chris Bolton also later recalled another lift [in addition to The Ruts'] of the same track ["See Them Ah Come"]. 'I give talks for anti-racism movements and The Specials' Jerry Dammers does so as well. He came up to me at one of the events and said, "Ghost Town. You know we ripped that off from Misty?" I said, "Yes, we knew that Jerry--respect to you for admitting it!"'"

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It's also interesting to note that The Specials' and Misty's tracks are linked lyrically, as they're both protest songs of sorts. While, "Ghost Town" decried Thatcher's war on/abandonment of the working class (unemployment--particularly amongst the youth--was at an all-time high, resulting in widespread urban decay, and a societal breakdown expressed through frequent outbursts of violence), "See Them Ah Come" is about standing up to injustice (and, one imagines, Inglan's racist institutions/society): "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of the wicked/I shall fear no evil/Sure and steadfast as anchor to a rock I shall stand/Me nah run/See them ah come, see them ah come/But me nah run."

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Shots in the Dark: The Toasters' "Frankenska"

The Toasters' Frankenska (Unicorn Records, 1990)
with cover art by Steve Friel.

Editor's note: Shots in the Dark spotlights so-called Third-Wave ska releases that should have been massive hits on the scene but, due to bad timing, poor luck, or a fickle record-buying public, were lost in the fray.

(Review by Steve Shafer)

The Toasters’ first live album Frankenska was recorded in the summer of 1989 during the band’s maiden (and mostly underwhelming) tour of the UK--and ended up documenting the brilliant core of the band that was forging on despite still reeling from the surprise departure of their frontmen the Unity 2 just months previously (trombonist Ann Hellandsjo and alto saxophonist Marcel Reginatto also left in their wake). Less than a year earlier, The Toasters had released their fantastic second album, Thrill Me Up, which had reached #54 on the CMJ college radio charts and was starting to generate lots of press and industry attention, and they were headlining sold out shows all over the country. Literally and figuratively, The Toasters were going places fast. So, the Unity 2's unexpected exit (they had been lured away by Warner Bros. to capitalize on the blink-and-you-missed-it hip-hop/reggae craze of 1989-1990) threatened to destroy all that The Toasters had accomplished up until that point. When we asked about this episode, Toasters’ founder, guitarist, and primary songwriter Rob “Bucket” Hingley told us that the Unity 2 had "cold-cocked" the rest of The Toasters and "disrupted the unit intensely."

Sean “Cavo” Dinsmore recently explained to The Duff Guide to Ska why he and Lionel “Nene” Bernard left The Toasters: “The simple answer is that we weren’t happy just being in a ska band anymore. We were much more into dancehall and hip hop by that time. We had already recorded “Shirlee” for a WB compilation (Funky Reggae Crew) as Unity 2 and had been offered record deals from both Island and WB. After we came off the last cross-country tour [with The Toasters], we played a sold-out show at The Ritz and there was an A and R guy there from Island. In the dressing room we were like, ‘What do you think?’ And he said, ‘I love it, but I only want to sign you two, not the whole band.’ After everything else that had been happening, it seemed like a sign from God. Of course, we still wrestled with it for a while, but it was inevitable. It was bittersweet for sure...No regrets at all, except I wish we had done the last few gigs that were on the schedule. We kind of left them in a tight spot. But it was so difficult because they were so clearly upset by it. Lionel and I just thought the road would be a nightmare for all of us if we went. Buck was very pragmatic and just wanted their asses covered, fair enough. But we couldn’t.”

A June 6, 1988 feature on The Toasters in New York Magazine, while Thrill Me Up was being
recorded (note that they refer to it by its working title at the time, Franken-Ska).

Indeed, The Toasters’ decision to embark on a UK tour and appear at the second London International Ska Festival was a Hail Mary of sorts, to shake off the Unity 2’s body blow and keep the band’s momentum going during a transitional period when they could just have easily broken up.

During a respite on that 1989 UK tour, Bucket told George Marshall of Scotland’s indispensable Zoot skazine, “We’ve been playing venues in town where people don’t even know who we are. We get a lot of letters from Europe, but I suppose they are just isolated pockets of fans...The ska scene’s further developed and not so underground in the States. Ska’s happening in the U.S. and it’s not just talk. It’s bigger now that it was during 2 Tone. We played in front of 1,000 people in Los Angeles, Chicago and San Francisco when we toured, and in New York we had 2,000 people in The Ritz [at a show that included The NY Citizens and Bim Skala Bim].” In a recent interview with The Duff Guide to Ska, Bucket added, “I was surprised how quickly the ska scene had deteriorated in the UK after the zenith of 2 Tone. Some of the audiences were light indeed, but then again most people had never heard of us and some wouldn't come and see us because we were ‘Yanks.’”

Notably, this tour and live album marked the first and temporary appearance of singer/toaster Coolie Ranx in The Toasters’ line-up (which at the time consisted of Jonathan McCain on drums, Greg Grinnell--who worked with the Unity 2 on their What Is It, Yo? debut album--on bass, John Dugan on tenor sax, Steve “Hex” LaForge on keys, Vince Fossitt of Buffalo, NY’s The Great Train Robbery on alto sax, and Buck on guitar and vocals). Bucket recently recounted how he originally encountered Coolie back in 1989: “Coolie was living in Brooklyn at that time. I had discovered him when we were auditioning singers, one of whom had been Andre from Mephiskapheles, by the way. A friend from S.O.B.’s passed me a copy of this 12” single “Roughneck,” which sounded to me like a much more energized version of Shinehead. So, I went out to Crown Heights and tracked him down, much to the amusement of the Yardie drug dealers who lived in his building. They were impressed by the wraparound shades, black bomber jacket, and Kangol...When I met Coolie, I had an all-black minivan with tinted windows. Whenever I showed up at Coolie’s place--which was actually in Bushwick now that I think about it--which was deep in the hood back in those days, the Jamaican Yardies were at first suspicious because they thought I was a Fed. After that, they took a shine to me, as there weren’t that many white folks in that neighbourhood at that pre-hipster epoch.”

The Toasters live in London on June 12, 1989:
Bucket, Coolie Ranx, and John Dugan (left to right).

“Before I decided to sign on with The Toasters, I was a dancehall artist,” Coolie told The Duff Guide to Ska. “I put out a few songs and had already traveled to the UK when I was introduced to The Toasters by Catherine Tobias. She was managing Shinehead at the time, but they parted company. At the time, my song "Roughneck" was playing on the urban music stations and she heard the similarities between Shinehead and myself. She sought me out and proposed management of me. She said The Toasters had lost their two frontmen and suggested I audition and do a small run with them to Europe for me to gain stage experience (she wasn't aware of my history of opening up for most of the reggae acts that came from Jamaica to do stage shows). I had just returned from England singing in Saxon Sound when all of this happened upon me.”

Coolie continued, “At the time, I was a dancehall artist doing ska and had no intention of staying in the scene. It was meant to be as a one-off tour with them and I would resume my work in dancehall. It really was culture shock for me.” He would not resume his role as the official and wildly popular front man of The Toasters until a few years later (Cashew Miles and then Pablo Wright were the interim singers/toasters for the band who appeared on This Gun for Hire and New York Fever). “I had just returned from living in London from 1991-1993. I was walking in New York City when I ran into [Toasters drummer] Jonathan McCain’s girlfriend. She said he was back in The Toasters and they were playing that night. I went to check them out the show--this was in 1993. Buck spotted me in the audience with my friend Natty and from the stage he began shouting out to me and reminding me of past shows we did. After the show, he came over and said he wanted to catch up and have a drink later in the week. We met for a drink at Blanche's and there he proposed I rejoin the band.”

The London International Ska Fest II flyer that was included in
every album mail ordered from Unicorn at the time.

Both the second London International Ska Festival (held at The Sir George Robey in Finsbury Park, London on May 27-29, 1989 with Laurel Aitken, The Trojans, The Deltones, Potato 5, The Toasters, Skaos, Floyd Lloyd, Skaos, The Hotknives, The Busters, The Braces, The Ska-dows, Mr. Review, Les Frelons, Spy Club, Arthur Kay’s Originals, and The Skandal on the bill) and the Frankenska recording at the Town and Country II in Islington, London on June 12, 1989 had been organized by Unicorn Record’s label head Mark Johnson, while the other Toasters’ dates around the UK were booked by RPM, which was run by several ex-members of 2 Tone act The Bodysnatchers. While George Marshall opined in Zoot that The Toasters’ performance wasn’t their best at the London ska fest, there’s no question that the band had all cylinders firing for the Frankenska recording.

While the Frankenska set list is loaded with classic Toasters tunes from Recriminations through Thrill Me Up, it also featured a small preview of the band’s next album in the form of “One Track Mind” (this one’s better than the studio version). Coolie confidently takes the lead vocals on “Go Girl,” “Don’t Blame Me,” and “Thrill Me Up” (and delivers some amazing toasting on “Run Rudy Run”), as if he had been in the band forever instead of a few months. The versions of “Ska Killers,” “East Side Beat” (check out Greg Grinnell’s hilarious Beastie Boys-like rap--swapping out the one usually done by Cavo during an instrumental break in the song: “I live on the outskirts of a place--East Flatbush/Hot like Texas and twice as dangerous/Every second of my life was a thrill/For a walk on the wild side, there’s a place--Brownsville/It’s hard to chill when they turn up the heat/Come on boys, do the East Side Beat…”), and “Pool Shark” are positively scorching. Even The Toasters’ roadie for that tour Steven “Big Steve” Carroll is heard from--he shouts “Matt Davis, special agent” throughout the album opener. I was fortunate enough to catch The Toasters several times in NYC in 1988 and 1989--those gigs continue to be some of the most amazing live shows I’ve ever experienced--and despite the unfortunate departure of some of the crew, the remaining Toasters more than hold their own on Frankenska; this performance rates amongst the Thrill Me Up-era band’s best. George Marshall concurred in his review of Frankenska for Zoot: “Despite a below par performance at Ska Fest II, The Toasters did enough on their European tour to make this LP worthwhile. It benefits from concentrating on their earlier material like ‘Matt Davis,’ ‘East Side Beat,’ and ‘Weekend in L.A.,’ making it a fans’ album with all three sure to get you dancing away in the safety of your bedroom. There’s even a giveaway poster for freebie freaks.”

Also on the bill that evening with The Toasters at the Town and Country II were the Potato 5 and The Deltones. A recording of the Potato 5’s fantastic performance that night was released as Five Alive on Unicorn Records and captured incredible tracks like “Spit ‘n’ Polish” and “Stopped by a Cop” that the band didn’t have a chance to record in the studio before breaking up late in 1989, after a difficult US tour (with gigs that included Bim Skala Bim and The Donkey Show). Bucket recalled that “Potato 5 was an awesome band. They had recorded that classic album with Laurel Aitken and some of their tunes like “Western Special” were excellent. We got on well with them and they had a relaxed vibe. Deltones were a bit shambolic, but they had great singers (Dill) and those shows we played with them knocking around in South East London were a lot of fun.”

A large free poster inside every LP!

By taking a big risk on this tour, The Toasters’ fortune finally changed for the better, as the band’s absolutely terrific live show was recorded for posterity, the tour put them on the radar overseas (and led to regular gigs throughout Europe and beyond from that point on to the present day), and on their return to the States, they connected with a major league domestic booking agency (which allowed The Toasters to further develop the US ska touring circuit and support all of local ska scene across the country--and lay the groundwork that would kick-start the massive, mid-’90s US ska revival). “As it turned out, that gamble paid off handsomely, as it raised the profile of the band immensely and we were able to tour in Europe consistently after that smash debut,” Bucket assessed. “It was a hot band and we blew most of the European groups away. Upon our return to the USA, we were promptly signed to Falk and Morrow booking, which was a huge agency. That helped cement the US touring and, hey presto, we were now an international touring act.”

The only bum notes about this release are that The Toasters never received any royalties for Frankenska (or any other Unicorn release of theirs, including Pool Shark and the Naked City comp) and the album was never issued domestically in the US. In the early 1990s, Unicorn’s Mark Johnson reportedly fled the UK for Turkey (and later Thailand) to escape the tax man and, in the process, absconded with what he owed to all the label’s bands. But given The Toasters’ previous experiences with other imprints and distributors who ripped them off or went belly up throughout the 1980s, it came as no shock(er) at all.

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Duff Review: The Frits "The Greatest Frits"

Pork Pie Records
2016
CD

(Review by Steve Shafer)

I can't quite remember how I first learned about The Frits--it may have been a review in George Marshall's essential Zoot! skazine--but I know I mail-ordered their releases through Unicorn Records and managed to buy their entire catalogue in the early 1990s (I just checked The Frits' Discogs entry for confirmation--I even have their CD single "Ebbies Bluff," which has their cover of Guns N' Roses' "November Rain"!). Fortunately, you don't have to go to the lengths that I did (going to the bank, exchanging dollars for pounds, and mailing them off with fingers crossed to the UK) to enjoy some of the best tracks from the band dubbed "the German Specials"--they're all collected on the aptly titled The Greatest Frits.

Like the post-2 Tone UK ska scene, which featured the likes of Laurel Aitken, Bad Manners, The Trojans, Potato 5, Maroon Town, The Loafers, King Hammond, The Riffs, The Deltones, and more, the late 80s/early 90s German ska scene had fostered an equally impressive roster of bands, including The Busters, No Sports, El Bosso und die Ping Pongs, The Braces, Skaos, The Butlers, Blechreiz, and, of course, The Frits. What first attracted me to the band was their hyper-charged 2-Tone ska, but what made keep coming back for each subsequent release was their fantastic songwriting and performances, all of which still sound great and vital twenty-five years on.

The Greatest Frits opens with "Life of Brian" (from The Frits' 1988 single of the same name), their inspired cover of Monty Python's "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life," which, like The Specials' cover of "Enjoy Yourself" (released at a time when things were becoming increasingly dire for working class youth and non-white Britons under Thatcher's rule), is cheerfully positive on the surface ("If life seems jolly rotten [I always thought it was, "If life seems Johnny Rotten"!]/There's something you've forgotten/and that's to that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing/When you're feeling in the dumps/Don't be silly chumps/Just purse your lips and whistle/That's the thing/And...always look on the bright side of life"), but is really meant to be taken ironically, since it masks a much more ominous message. (In the movie "Life of Brian," the protagonist has been sentenced to death and is surrounded by fellow condemned prisoners who try to cheer him up by singing "always look on the bright side of life," while they're all slowly dying on crucifixes--it's interesting to note that The Busters covered Bobby McFerrin's similarly-themed "Don't Worry, Be Happy" a year later; and, like The Busters, The Frits sing in English, which sometimes results in awkwardly phrased lyrics, but their meaning is always clear.)

While The Frits' material from their first two albums, Die Erste in 1988 and The Rude Message in 1989, is very strong and is concerned with work, women, and generally not being a dope, the band really hit their stride in 1991 with Little Idiots. After the unexpected fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 and the reunification of (communist and very poor) East and (democratic and prosperous) West Germany, there was a horrific increase in the number of fascist/neo-Nazi groups and hate crimes, primarily in the former East Germany, which had seen an influx of Eastern European refugees (who were being blamed by the hate groups for the high unemployment and economic hardship prevalent at that time). The Frits' 2 Tone-like response to this worsening situation was to write some of the most powerful and catchiest anti-racist/anti-fascist songs of that era (which, maddeningly enough, are still very relevant in many parts of the world today, including the USA).

The absolutely searing "The Most I Hate Is You" expresses The Frits' equivocal feelings about fascist youth and their neo-Nazi leaders who've lured and trapped them in their twisted, dead-end ideology:

"You walk in every morning
The same old naked way
Your head is much too heavy
Your thoughts are full of hate

You think of what you've talked about
Last night with your friends
But now you're on the run again
There is no other chance

The most I hate is you
The most I hate is you
The most I hate is you
What you gonna say?
What you gonna do?
The most I hate is you

They will make you smaller
Smaller than you seem
Tell you, "What is all the work for?"
Tell you, "What do you mean?"

You're sitting in a big cage
But you haven't got the key
The key has got your big balls
There is no way to live"



With its irresistible, sing-along chorus, "Bonehead" tries to reach the very misguided--but not irredeemable--knucklehead, to persuade them to stop their violent, racist behavior:

"You are so proud
Of what you've done
Now I see you standing there
With all your friends
You've had a lot of fun
They show you how to go "right" ways

Can't you feel so tall?
You know every trick
To hide your little weakness now
But I tell you
(I tell you)
You are so wrong
Everyone can see your little sign
Saying...

Bonehead, you are going wrong
Listen to the message
The message of this song, yeah
The black man is all right
There is no reason for a fight, see?
Only stupid reasons are for you, all right?"

[There is only one fan-created video of "Bonehead" out there; it uses footage of neo-Nazi and white power skinheads in an attempt to shame them with the sharp lyrics of this song, but I'm not posting it here, as they don't deserve any kind of exposure that could be misinterpreted as endorsing or glorifying their hateful ways.]

"Searching for Another Place in Town" perfectly captures the loneliness and despair of finding oneself an outcast in one's own neighborhood (because of your anti-racist beliefs) and having no other choice but to leave everything you've known behind:

"I'm searching for another place in town
All the people try to treat me down
I'm searching for another place in town
Without my life, with all the things I do right here

Walking up my home run street I feel so down
Recognize these stupid guys, make me so frown
They never try to understand what is going all wrong
Going on their stupid ways, I never go
'Cause I am strong, yeah

That I'm searching for another place in town
Is because of all the stupid talk of youth
I want you to respect me and all my dreams
And I won't wait while you try to understand..."



It's such an incredibly sorrowful--but ultimately triumphant--track that will haunt you for days after hearing it (I wake up in the night with this one running through my head).

The Frits' following album Not Enough for You (1993), produced by Roger Lomas (The Selecter, The Bodysnatchers, Bad Manners), didn't burn quite as white hot, but they still delivered the goods (see "It's Not Enough for You" and "I Don't Want To Live Alone") and contained some fiercely political songs: "We Fight For You" ("We saw them kill an innocent/We saw them bomb some families and kids/We won't just sit home and wait/We won't just close our eyes and walk away/We fight for you/We'll fight for your rights!"); a cover of Oscar Brown, Jr.'s "The Snake," a jazz/Northern Soul cautionary tale of an act of compassion and charity repaid with betrayal and violence; and The Specials' "Concrete Jungle" with Sir Horace Gentleman making an appearance on bass. The Frits' final (?), live album Always Look on the Bright Side of Live (1994), also recorded by Lomas, showcased the band's considerable live chops (represented here by covers of Specials and Selecter tracks, as well as two Frits originals).

Lastly, there is one terrific newly recorded Frits cut, the defiant "Still Alive," which gives us hope that there may be much more new music to come as long as they're, "On the street/With something to say/Kicking the blues away..."

The Greatest Frits is a fantastic compilation for people new to the band (if you're a fan of 2 Tone, you're likely to be a Frits fan) and will remind long-time followers just how good The Frits were back then--and still are today!

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Here's a German translation of this review (courtesy of Google):

Ich kann mich nicht mehr genau erinnern, wie ich zum ersten Mal über die Fritten gelernt - es kann eine Überprüfung in George Marshall wesentlich Zoot gewesen! skazine - aber ich weiß, dass ich für E-Mail aufgefordert, ihre Veröffentlichungen durch Unicorn Aufzeichnungen und verwaltet den gesamten Katalog in den frühen 1990er Jahren zu kaufen (Ich habe gerade den Discogs Eintrag 'Frits zur Bestätigung - ich habe sogar ihre CD-Single "ebbies Bluff" die hat ihre Abdeckung von Guns N 'Roses' "November Regen"!). Glücklicherweise müssen Sie nicht auf die Längen gehen, die ich habe (zur Bank gehen, Dollar für Pfund Austausch und Mailing sie mit Daumen nach Großbritannien aus) einige der besten Tracks aus dem Band zu genießen genannt "die Deutsch Specials "- sie sind alle auf dem passenden Titel The Greatest Frits gesammelt.

Wie die Post-2 Tone UK Ska-Szene, die die Gleichen von Laurel Aitken gekennzeichnet, Bad Manners, die Trojaner, Kartoffel 5, Maroon Town, die Loafers, König Hammond, die Riffs, die Deltones und mehr, die Ende der 80er / Anfang 90s deutschen Ska-Szene hatte eine ebenso beeindruckende Liste von Bands gefördert, darunter The Busters, No Sports, El Bosso und sterben Ping Pongs, die geschweiften Klammern, Skaos, The Butlers, Blechreiz, und, natürlich, die Fritten. Was mich zuerst an die Band war ihre hyper geladen 2-Tone Ska, aber was immer wieder für jede weitere Veröffentlichung kommen würde ihre fantastische Songwriting und Aufführungen, von denen alle immer noch groß und vital 25 Jahre klingen auf.

Die größten Frits öffnet mit "Life of Brian" (aus dem Frits 1988 Single mit dem gleichen Namen), ihre inspirierten Cover von Monty Pythons "Always Schauen Sie auf der Sonnenseite des Lebens", die, wie die Specials "Cover von" Genießen Yourself "(zu einem Zeitpunkt freigegeben, wenn die Dinge immer mehr dire immer für Jugend arbeiten und nicht-weiße Briten unter Thatcher-Regel), ist fröhlich positiv auf der Oberfläche (" Wenn das Leben scheint lustig faul [ich dachte immer, es war "Wenn das Leben scheint Johnny Rotten "!] / Es gibt etwas, das Sie vergessen haben / und das ist zu, dass zu lachen und lächeln und Tanz ist und singen / Wenn Sie das Gefühl nicht dumm chumps sein in den Deponien / Do / So Portemonnaie Ihre Lippen und Pfeife / das ist die Sache / Und ... schauen immer auf der Sonnenseite des Lebens "), aber ist wirklich ironisch gemeint genommen werden, da es Masken eine viel ominösen Nachricht. (In dem Film "Das Leben des Brian", der Protagonist wurde zum Tode verurteilt und ist umgeben von Mitgefangenen verurteilt, die versuchen, ihn durch das Singen aufzumuntern "immer auf der Sonnenseite des Lebens aussehen", während sie alle langsam sterben auf Kruzifixe - es ist interessant, dass The Busters Bobby McFerrin "Sorge dich nicht glücklich sein" bedeckt zu beachten, ähnlich dem Motto des ein Jahr später, und wie The Busters, The Frits singen in englischer Sprache, die manchmal in ungeschickt formulierte Texte ergibt, aber ihre Bedeutung ist immer klar.)

Während die Fritten "Material aus ihren ersten beiden Alben, 1988 Erste sterben und die Rude Nachricht im Jahr 1989, ist sehr stark und mit Arbeit, Frauen betrifft, und in der Regel nicht eine Schmiere zu sein, traf die Band wirklich ihren Schritt 1991 mit wenig Idiots. Nach dem unerwarteten Fall der Berliner Mauer 1989 und die Wiedervereinigung (kommunistischen und sehr schlecht) Ost und (Demokratie und Wohlstand) der Bundesrepublik Deutschland gab es eine schreckliche Zunahme der Zahl der faschistischen / Neonazi-Gruppen und Hassverbrechen, in erster Linie im ehemaligen Ost-Deutschland, die einen Zustrom osteuropäischer Flüchtlinge gesehen hatte (die von den Hassgruppen für die hohe Arbeitslosigkeit und wirtschaftliche Not weit verbreitet zu dieser Zeit verantwortlich gemacht wurden). Die Frits '2 Tone ähnliche Reaktion auf diese Verschlechterung der Lage war heute einige der mächtigsten und eingängigsten antirassistischen / antifaschistische Lieder jener Zeit (die aufreizend genug, sind immer noch sehr relevant in vielen Teilen der Welt zu schreiben einschließlich der USA).

Die absolut Anbraten "The Most I Hate Is You" die Fritten "zweideutig Gefühle über faschistische Jugend zum Ausdruck bringt und ihre Neonazi-Führer, die gelockt haben und gefangen sie in ihren verdrehten, Sackgasse Ideologie:

"Sie gehen in jeden Morgen
Die gleiche alte nackte Weg
Ihr Kopf ist viel zu schwer
Ihre Gedanken sind voller Hass

Sie denken an, was Sie gesprochen haben
Letzte Nacht mit deinen Freunden
Aber jetzt bist du wieder auf der Flucht
Es gibt keine andere Möglichkeit,

Die meisten, die ich hasse, ist, Sie
Die meisten, die ich hasse, ist, Sie
Die meisten, die ich hasse, ist, Sie
Was sagen Sie gonna?
Was wirst du machen?
Die meisten, die ich hasse, ist, Sie

Sie werden machen Sie kleinere
Kleiner als Sie scheinen
Sagen Sie: "Was ist die ganze Arbeit für?"
Sagen Sie: "Was meinst du damit?"

Du bist in einem großen Käfig sitzen
Aber Sie haben nicht den Schlüssel bekam
Der Schlüssel ist Ihre große Bälle bekam
Es gibt keine Möglichkeit zu leben "

Mit seinem unwiderstehlich, Mitsingen Chor, "Dummkopf" versucht, die sehr fehlgeleitet zu erreichen - aber nicht unkündbar - knucklehead, sie zu überzeugen, ihre gewalttätigen, rassistischen Verhalten zu stoppen:

"Sie sind so stolz
Von dem, was du getan hast
Jetzt sehe ich dich dort stehen
Mit all deinen Freunden
Sie haben viel Spaß gehabt
Sie zeigen Ihnen, wie "richtige" Wege zu gehen

Können Sie sich nicht so groß fühlen?
Sie kennen jeden Trick
So blenden Sie jetzt Ihre kleine Schwäche
Aber ich sage Ihnen
(Ich sage dir)
Sie sind so falsch
Jeder kann Ihr kleines Schild
Sprichwort...

Bonehead, du gehst falsch
Hören Sie die Nachricht
Die Botschaft dieses Liedes, ja
Der schwarze Mann ist alles in Ordnung
Es gibt keinen Grund für einen Kampf, sehen Sie?
Nur dumme Gründe sind für Sie, alles in Ordnung? "

[Es gibt nur ein Fan erstellte Video von "Dummkopf" da draußen; es nutzt Aufnahmen von Neonazis und Nazi-Skinheads in einem Versuch zu beschämen sie mit den scharfen Text dieses Liedes, aber ich bin es nicht hier veröffentlichen, da sie keine Art der Exposition verdienen, die als Billigung falsch interpretiert werden könnte oder verherrlichen ihre verhasste Weise.]

"Nach einem anderen Ort in der Stadt Suche" perfekt erfasst die Einsamkeit und Verzweiflung, sich ein Außenseiter zu finden, in der eigenen Nachbarschaft (wegen Ihrer antirassistische Überzeugungen) und keine andere Wahl haben, aber alles zu verlassen Sie hinter gekannt habe:

"Ich bin auf der Suche nach einem anderen Ort in der Stadt
Alle Leute versuchen, mich zu behandeln unten
Ich bin für einen anderen Ort in der Stadt suchen
Ohne mein Leben, mit all den Dingen zu tun ich hier richtig

Gehen meine Home-Run Straße bis ich fühle mich so nach unten
Erkennen Sie diese dummen Jungs, machen mich so Stirnrunzeln
Sie niemals versuchen, zu verstehen, was alles falsch läuft
Gehen auf ihren dummen Wege, ich gehe nie
Denn ich bin stark, ja

Dass ich für einen anderen Ort in der Stadt bin auf der Suche
Ist wegen all dem dummen Gerede von Jugend
Ich möchte Sie mich und alle meine Träume zu respektieren
Und ich werde nicht warten, während Sie versuchen zu verstehen ... "

Es ist so ein unglaublich traurig - aber letztlich triumphierenden - Spur, die Sie für Tage nach der mündlichen Verhandlung hat sie verfolgen wird (wache ich mit diesem einen in der Nacht laufen durch meinen Kopf).

Die Frits folgende Album nicht genug für Sie (1993), produziert von Roger Lomas (The Selecter, The Bodysnatchers, Bad Manners), brannte nicht ganz so weiß heiß, aber sie lieferte noch die Ware (siehe "Es ist nicht genug für Sie "und" I Do not To Live Alone "einige heftig politische Lieder) und enthielt:" Wollen wir kämpfen für Sie "(" Wir sahen sie einen unschuldigen töten / Wir sahen sie einige Familien bombardieren und Kinder / Wir werden nicht nur sitzen zu Hause und warten / Wir werden nicht nur die Augen zu schließen und gehen weg / Wir kämpfen für dich / Wir werden für Ihre Rechte kämpfen! "); eine Abdeckung von Oscar Brown Jr. "The Snake", ein Jazz / Northern Soul warnende Geschichte von einem Akt des Mitgefühls und der Liebe mit Verrat und Gewalt zurückgezahlt; und The Specials ' "Concrete Jungle" mit Sir Horace Gentleman einen Auftritt am Bass. Die Frits 'letzte (?), Live-Album auf der hellen Seite der Live-Schauen Sie immer (1994), die ebenfalls von Lomas aufgenommen, präsentiert die erhebliche Live Koteletts Band (hier vertreten durch Abdeckungen von Specials und Selecter Spuren sowie zwei Frits Originale ).

Schließlich gibt es einen tollen neu aufgenommenen Frits Schnitt, der trotzige "Still Alive", die uns Hoffnung gibt, dass es auf der Straße viel mehr neue Musik zu kommen, solange sie sind ", kann sein / mit etwas zu sagen / Kicking den Blues weg ... "

Der größte Frits ist eine fantastische Zusammenstellung für neue Leute in die Band (wenn Sie ein Fan von 2 Tone sind, sind Sie wahrscheinlich ein Frits Fan zu sein) und wird seit langer Zeit Anhänger, wie gut die Fritten waren wieder erinnern dann- -und noch heute!

Duff Review: The Specials "Live at the Moonlight Club"

This is not a bootleg.

2 Tone/Chrysalis
2014
Heavyweight 180 gm LP

(Review by Steve Shafer)

In the mid 70s, when I first started buying my own records at around age 9 or 10, information about bands and their releases was oftentimes ridiculously hard to come by in the pre-internet age. We were completely dependent on what was played on the radio (sadly, I was first introduced to Bob Marley via racist/xenophobe Eric Clapton's cover of "I Shot the Sheriff," which was played frequently on WNEW in NYC, instead of any of Marley's own recordings); whatever bits we could glean from the mainstream press when they covered pop music; TV appearances we made sure to catch (like the B-52s on SNL in 1980); word-of-mouth from one's peers (it's how I first found out about the B-52s' debut album); being in the right place and time (I first heard The Ramones' "I Wanna Be Sedated" at a middle school dance at a posh girls private school!); and whatever you happened to be lucky enough to come across in a record store.

Things improved considerably in high school (in the first half of the 1980s), when I discovered the brilliant WLIR on the radio dial--which introduced me to the best bands that the New Wave and post-punk era had to offer, including all of the 2 Tone acts--and I could track down copies of Trouser Press (the "bible of alternative rock"), see cool UK New Wave acts on MTV at my friend's apartment (he had cable in Inwood, we didn't), and was able to purchase imported LPs, 12" singles, and band promo posters (like my Echo and the Bunnymen Heaven Up Here poster) at Mad Hatters record store in Yonkers (though a lot of chain stores carried some New Wave, too--I bought The Smiths' Hatful of Hollow--an import, no less!--at Sam Goody's in the Cross County Mall). Despite my increased access to information and media, there was still so much music and so many releases from this time that I never knew about--and only discovered much later through the internet. (Over the past five or so years, my record collection has exploded, as I've been compulsively picking up used copies of LPs and singles from the late 70s and early 80s that either I didn't know existed (!) or didn't have the cash to buy new when they were originally released. As I'm dragged kicking and screaming into my late 40s, I suppose this might be how my middle age crisis is manifesting itself--but I also happen to believe that the New Wave/post-punk era produced some of the greatest music ever recorded!)

A good example of a record that I had no knowledge of until years after its release is The Specials' Live at the Moonlight Club. In 1992, I came across a CD of Live at the Moonlight Club at Tower Records on West 4th Street in Manhattan. It was a pricey import and I assumed that since I had never heard anything about it (and was pretty sure that I already had all of their official albums and didn't remember reading about it in any of the UK skazines) that it must be a bootleg released by someone wanting to cash in on the ska resurgence taking place in the UK, Europe, and in a few years, the USA (little did I know that it really was a legitimate 2 Tone release after being a boot for 20 odd years and one that deserves a proper place in The Specials' discography!).

Even now, in the midst of our glorious digital information age, the complete and true story of the recording remains somewhat unclear. What we do know is that on May 3, 1979--on the eve of the elections that would put the dreaded Margaret Thatcher in power (she was elected, in part, by co-opting the National Front's anti-immigrant language and stance)--The Specials played a phenomenal set at the Moonlight Club in West Hampstead, London. Their debut single "Gangsters" (b/w The Selecter's "The Selecter") had just been self-released in March as the debut record on 2 Tone (the first pressing of 5,000 copies was distributed by Rough Trade and, according to George Marshall's "The Two Tone Story," was sold out by May), which Elvis Costello soon declared on Radio 1's Round Table as "one of the best records he'd heard in the last ten years" (according to Specials' bassist Horace Panter in his book "Ska'd For Life") and they'd soon sign directly with Chrysalis in early June for a five-album deal, with an option for eight (and establish 2 Tone essentially as a subsidiary of Chrysalis--but under The Specials' and, to some degree, The Selecter's control, with its own budget and with the option to release up to 10 one-off singles by bands of their choice--the first single, of course, was a re-release of "Gangsters" on 2 Tone/Chrysalis in July). The Specials then recorded their extraordinary debut album that summer with Elvis Costello producing (The Specials LP was released on November 3, 1979). Roy Eldridge, A and R man for Chrysalis, was in the audience for the Live at the Moonlight show and, no doubt, The Specials' performance that night convinced him and, in turn, the execs at Chrysalis that they were very much worth signing and consenting to the unusual (for the time), semi-autonomous deal for 2 Tone Records. (Also in the crowd that night, according to Specials biographer Paul "Willo" Williams in "You're Wondering Now: The Specials from Conception to Reunion," were representatives from Warner Brothers, Island, A and M, and Virgin--as well as Elvis Costello, Chrissie Hynde, and Mick Jagger, who was considering the band for Rolling Stones Records; however, in the end, none of the other labels were willing to consider The Specials' terms for their 2 Tone label.)

Again, according to Panter's book, the bootleg Live at the Moonlight Club came into existence through a planned compilation album of live acts performing at that club (Paul Williams states that it was to be a charity album). The Specials didn't want any of their original material recorded for this comp (they were saving it all for their debut LP), but they had recently incorporated a raucous take on The Pioneers' "Long Shot (Kick De Bucket)" into their set and agreed for it to be recorded by the club (this cover, of course, would eventually be released on the live "Too Much Too Young" EP, on the "Skinhead Symphony" side, which had been recorded live at Tiffany's in Coventry). Decca Studios was right next door to the Moonlight Club, so cables were run from the studio's control room to the stage (which is why this boot sounds unusually good). Instead of one track, The Specials' entire May 3, 1979 set was recorded (and later mixed). The live Moonlight Club compilation never came out, but a bootleg release of The Specials' set did find its way into the shops later that year. Apparently, Live at the Moonlight Club sold as well as The Specials' debut album--and, according to Paul Williams, was sometimes receiving better reviews!

Panter has no insight as to who actually released the bootleg (other than they made an extraordinary amount of money off it) or as to how Chrysalis eventually assumed control over the recording ("I've often wondered how they [Chrysalis] came to get hold of the tapes, and whether anybody was prosecuted for releasing an illegal bootleg. Probably just regular music business business."). However it all occurred, one thing is certain, Chrysalis now owns the recording and isn't shy about protecting it (on the back of the album, it states, "The copyright in this sound recording is owned by Chrysalis Records Ltd.").

Whatever the album's provenance, it documents a phenomenal live performance by The Specials at a point in their career just before they and 2 Tone became white hot in England (and far beyond). And you can hear why the bootleg was so enthusiastically snapped up by fans--it captures The Specials' doing what they do best, bar none: playing live before an amped-up audience (I wouldn't have this great privilege until seeing most of them at their mind-blowingly good NYC show on a pier in the Hudson River in July 2013, but did see some of them during the Special Beat tour of the USA in 1993 at the Hammerstein Ballroom in Manhattan). While The Specials' brilliant debut studio album is an undeniable classic (and all time favorite album of mine!)--and perhaps it's a wildly unfair comparison--it doesn't quite capture the band's tremendous and thrilling live energy (though this has proven to be a formidable challenge for many a ska band--very few have been able to translate what happens on stage into the studio).

From a historical perspective, it's also amazing to note how absolutely ready the band is to lay down the tracks for their debut. The arrangements of their soon-to-be hit songs are so fully, powerfully, and confidently realized and essentially the same as those that they'll record in a few months in the studio (in two instances, I actually prefer the Moonlight Club versions of the songs to what's on The Specials--listen to "Too Much Too Young," which displays its roots in Lloyd Charmers' "Birth Control" a little more directly and "Nite Klub" has flourishes and textures in the guitar, keyboard, and bass lines that didn't make it onto the studio album). For those of us not fortunate to have been present for the rise of The Specials and 2 Tone, this album provides us with a taste of how magnificent it must have been witness and experience it all. And it's proof positive that The Specials deserved every bit of fame, glory, and praise that was to come their way for the next few (and all too brief) years.

+ + + +

If you've never heard Live at the Moonlight Club and just can't get enough of The Specials, then this is an essential purchase. And completists will definitely want this awesomely heavyweight vinyl edition with a new cover photo (from what might be a live shot of the band from the Moonlight Club show), though it sports the same (and very good) Adrian Thrills liner notes from the 1992 CD (which, oddly, never refer to the sketchy origins of this release). For me, Live at the Moonlight Club rectifies a long-standing deficit in my musical knowledge (and my record collection) and allows me to re-live a time when listening to a new record by one of your favorite bands was one of the sweetest and most sacred things that you could spend your precious time doing.

King Hammond "Revolution '70" and "Tank Tops and Hot Pants" CD

Limited edition CD

2014

(Review by Steve Shafer)

Back in the late 80s, Bad Manners' bassist and prolific songwriter Nick Welsh followed up on his stellar work for their 1989 Return of the Ugly album (Nick wrote "Skaville UK," "Since You've Gone Away" and "Memory Train"--and co-penned "Rosemary" and "Return of the Ugly"; this album remains one of Bad Manners' best) with a persona and record that celebrated the late 60s/early 70s skinhead reggae explosion in the UK: King Hammond's Revolution '70 (released on Buster Bloodvessel's then newly-revived and licensed Blue Beat label). At first, almost on a lark, Nick promoted King Hammond's debut album as a long-lost Jamaican gem of the skinhead reggae era, but he quickly fessed up about the charade in order to lay claim to all of the accolades the album was (deservedly) receiving.

After reading George Marshall's review in his essential (and very much missed) "Zoot" skazine (see the scans below from my personal copy), I mail-ordered the Revolution '70 LP from Unicorn Records and when my needle hit the record was immediately struck by Welsh's fully-realized sound and vision for King Hammond. The organ-centric music (in more ways than one!) pays loving homage to the skinhead reggae keyboard greats like Harry J, Jackie Mittoo, Winston Wright, Glen Adams, Ansel Collins, et al, while sounding thoroughly original (which it is--the cuts here are all Nick's). In fact, two of the vocal tracks on Revolution '70--"Stay with Me Baby" and "Oh Lorna!" are really pop-hits disguised in boots 'n' braces (Nick revisited "Stay with Me Baby" on his terrific Soho Sessions album, where he re-worked many of his greatest ska songs from the 80s and 90s on acoustic guitar).

George Marshall's review in Issue 13 of "Zoot" (1989)

Thematically, these songs cover skinhead reggae appropriate pop culture topics--which Nick clearly relishes--such as Sergio Leone spaghetti Westerns ("One Dollar Hotel" and "Hammond's Showdown"); Bruce Lee/martial arts films ("Enter the Dragon"); gothic horror movies, no doubt, of the Hammer Horror variety featuring Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing ("The Satantic Rites of King Hammond" and "King Hammond vs. The Exorcist"), the soft-porn pop songs (with lots of sexually suggestive moaning) of Serge Gainsbourg (did you know that in 1979 he released a decent album of French reggae songs with Sly and Robbie called Aux Armes et Caetera?), and the hilarious rude records (for those of us with dirty minds to read into all of the double-entendres) of Lloyd Charmers (AKA Lloydie and the Lowbites), Prince Buster, Laurel Aitken, Judge Dread, et al (sample lyric from King Hammond's, ahem, "Pussy Power": "You must succumb-ah to my cucumb-ah").

From "Zoot" Issue 13, 1989

All of these keyboard-heavy tracks (most which include all sorts of wonderfully over-the-top spoken, shouted, or sung exhortations--many sublime in their outrageousness) are top-notch and were particularly unique back in 1989, when most bands were in the vein of either The Specials or The Skatalites. No one was doing skinhead reggae (with the exception of the now late, but always great, Laurel Aitken--though even his recordings at this time with the Potato 5 and the Pressure Tenants were typically 60s-style Jamaican ska, even if the arrangements sometimes took on more contemporary elements). While I love all of the tracks here, the two that are my favorite are probably "The Satanic Rites of King Hammond" ("Take off your hot pants and suck...This is the Hammond House of Horror, dig the beat, kids...Let me take you to a deserted graveyard, where the bones lay rotting...I will lay you down on a grave and I will raise...raise with me baby! You may be Dracula, you may be Frankenstein, but nothing can save you from King Hammond! I'm coming to get you!") and "The March of the Skinheads," which opens with an air raid siren and briefly salutes The Ethiopians' skinhead reggae anthem "Train to Skaville" before heading off on its own course (Nick was also honoring his father here, who co-wrote a song for the Artie Scott Orchestra with the same title--and I can only describe it as the type of quirky instrumental pop song you'd hear on a light Doris Day-type movie soundtrack from the 1960s).

King Hammond's follow-up, Tank Tops and Hot Pants, didn't see a proper release (mostly due to the demise of Buster's Blue Beat label and Nick's split with Bad Manners for the reformed Selecter with Neol Davies and Pauline Black), but one of Trojan Records' subsidiary labels Receiver Records (which released the excellent live Selecter Out in the Streets CD) issued the mega 25-track CD Blow Your Mind in 1992, which contained both the LP-only Revolution 70 and the newer cuts, though the track order jumbled up songs from each album (interestingly enough, this reissue drops a few cuts--"King Hammond's Magic Roundabout," "Crossroads," "Kinky Version," "Baby Version," "King Hammond Shuffle," and "Right On King Hammond," the last two were featured on Skank Records ska compilations). I really wish Tank Tops had come out on its own on vinyl--look at that cover art by Steven Friel (who provided ska-themed comic strips for "Zoot!," illustrated many of Unicorn Records' album covers, as well as Bad Manners' Return of the Ugly and King Hammond's Revolution '70)!

Tank Tops picks up right where Revolution left off, with more stellar skinhead reggae songs about sex ("Psychedelic Pum Pum" and "Pussy Got Nine Lives"), Westerns ("Hammond Rides Again" and "Spaced Out Cowboy"), blood suckers ("Dracula AD 72"), and simply great tracks with suggestive names ("Confessions of an Organist," "Suck/Lick It Up," and "Soul Up"). The album ends with the only sung song--"Skinhead Revolution"--a brilliant, funky and soulful, power-to-the people early reggae track with a great "nah, nah, nah" chorus right out of early 70s ("Skinhead on a violent street/dances to a different beat/Get ready, get ready!/Revolution on the floor/To the sound of '74/Get ready, get ready!/Nah, nah, nah/Skinhead revolution/Tank tops and hot pants everywhere/Sexy skin chicks with skin cut hair/Get ready, get ready... "). After hearing this, you'll be eager to sign up for King Hammond's musical movement, too.

The Blow Your Mind is a hard CD to find and fetches a high price on the collector's market (as does the Revolution '70 LP). One expects that this limited-edition version of Revolution '70 and Tank Tops and Hot Pants will be similarly valued and very much treasured by ska and skinhead reggae fans, too.

Striking Gold: Rico Rodriguez: "Jama Rico"!

(Review/Appreciation by Steve Shafer)

Last week during my lunch break, I made my weekly pilgrimage to a certain unnamed used record store about a 10-minute walk from my job and struck ska gold. Usually on these outings, I'm scouring the bins for New Wave and post-punk singles and albums that I didn't have the money to pick up--or didn't even know existed--back when I was in high school in the first half of the 1980s.

But on this day, the gods of vinyl were good to me. I snagged one of the rarest (at least, on this side of the pond) 2 Tone releases--a near mint copy of Rico Rodriguez's Jama Rico (1982), which is filled with mind-blowingly good vintage/authentic ska and reggae instrumental cuts. 2 Tone's parent label Chrysalis never opted to release this album in the US (and I wonder if any specialty shops here even bothered to import copies of it; in all my many years of digging through the crates, this is the first time I've ever seen it; and there is very little written about it, either on-line or in the reference books on ska and reggae in my bookshelves--even George Marshall's "The Two Tone Story" gives it short shrift). 2 Tone ska's flame-out in the UK, no doubt, had a lot to do with the album's scarcity and the dearth of info about it, but Rico and this brilliant album deserved much better.

Recorded both at Joe Gibbs Studio in Kingston, JA and in London, with various tracks produced by Dick Cuthell, and Jerry Dammers and Dick Cuthell, Jama Rico featured some of the finest Jamaican (and British) musicians around, including Tommy McCook (tenor sax), Felix "Deadly Headley" Bennett (alto sax), Ansell Collins (organ), Winston Wright (piano, guitar), Earl "Chinna" Smith (guitar), Jah Jerry (guitar), Sly Dunbar (drums), Robbie Shakespeare (bass), and other top performers--plus several members of The Special AKA: Jerry Dammers (organ, piano), John Bradbury (drums), Sir Horace Gentleman (bass), and Dick Cuthell (cornet, flugel horns, funda drums).

Ska fans who love Rico and The Special AKA's "Jungle Music," will immediately take to the stunningly evocative ska and reggae of "We Want Peace," "Jam Rock," "Love and Justice," "Some Day," "Do the Reload" (which is a cover of Rico's dear friend and mentor Don Drummond's awesome "Green Island"), and "Easter Island" (written by Japanese saxophonist Sado Wattanobe)--all of which follow the expected song structures for this genre of music. Those open to more musical paths less traveled will enjoy the more jazzy, looser, experimental takes on Jamaican music on "Destroy Them," "Distant Drums" (with Rico on vibraphone and funda drums!), and "Java."

According to Paul "Willo" Williams in his fantastic biography of The Specials (and 2 Tone Records) "You're Wondering Now: The Specials from Conception to Reunion," notes that Rico's "Jungle Music" single and the Jama Rico album failed to gain any traction and climb the charts due to the rise of the New Romantics in the UK (Ultravox, Spandau Ballet, Duran Duran, etc.). It was all a matter of unfortunate pop-culture timing (one can't blame the material or performances, as they're brilliant); the UK record-buying public's massive infatuation with ska music was over by 1982.

While Chrysalis, to their great shame, has never released Jama Rico on CD (though "Easter Island" and "Destroy Them" are on The 2 Tone Story CD), I was shocked to discover that the album currently is available digitally through iTunes in the USA (how long has it been for sale there?)--as is what looks like the entire 2 Tone catalogue (even the late, non-ska releases on the label from The Higsons, Swinging Cats, JB's Allstars, The Friday Club, and The Apollinaires). Still, nothing beats having these warm, organic sounds captured on a vinyl LP in my very own collection. Whoever decided to part with Jama Rico (after taking such good care of it all these years) and sell it to my favorite used record store has my sincere and undying gratitude!

Jesse Michaels of Op Ivy

There was a time, from about 1988 until '90 or '91, when I would make up any lame excuse that I could to find myself in front of Bleecker Bob's on 3rd Street in the Village to rummage through their ska section. Whatever you may have thought of this establishment, at that time they had one of the best offerings of ska LPs in NYC--domestic and imported. Whoever was stocking the ska section back then did an incredible job of keeping up on the latest and greatest releases (if I read a review of a ska album in George Marshall's "Zoot," it could be found at Bleecker Bob's). Looking through my collection of records that I bought during that period, if I didn't mailorder it from Unicorn Records in the UK, then I picked it up at here. (I didn't buy many ska singles then because I was too intimidated by the surly, mega-cool staff to ask to see the box of 7"s stored behind the counter.)

One of the LPs that I snagged from the ska bin at Bleecker Bob's was Operation Ivy's Energy (Lookout Records, 1989), probably after reading about it Maximum RocknRoll. If you can, try to imagine a time before the roach-like proliferation of ska-punk bands in the 90s, when the closest most people had come to the blending of these genres was The Specials' "Concrete Jungle" (seriously!). Even the Mighty Mighty Bosstones didn't drop their debut Devils Night Out (the only ska-core record I really like) until 1990. I remember playing a tape of Energy for my younger brother--who was always much more adventurous than I was in finding cool new music, genres, and styles--and he couldn't decide if it was brilliant or god-awful (for my money, I thought he would have loved it). But my brother was kind of flummoxed by it. Op Ivy were that far ahead of the times and tastes.

Op Ivy singer and lyricist Jesse Michaels dropped off of most people's radar after the band broke up right after the release of Energy (guitarist Lint--AKA Tim Armstrong--and bassist Matt Freeman went on to form Rancid), so it was a nice surprise to come across this new interview with Jesse by Jon Reiss in Jewcy...

Here's the money quote:

You know, as soon as I start thinking of myself as some kind of rock star, I'm a prick. So, I guard against that because I don't want to be a prick. It's not because I'm heroic or super modest or spiritual, it's just because I don't want to to be a fuckin' douche bag. So if someone comes up to me and is all, "ooh ahh," I'm sort of like, "wow you have a interesting fixation on me, and that's okay, but it has absolutely nothing to do with who I am." I'm just a guy with problems.

On the other hand, great art is great art. If that's great art to someone, fantastic. The music and art that I love, I love it. Of course there's a natural attraction to someone who's made something that's meaningful. I'm as subject to this as anyone else. When I met Joe Strummer, I almost shit my pants. At the same time, I know that it's just kind of this imaginary thing that I'm doing in my head, that he's just another guy with problems.

Shots in the Dark: The Selecter's Celebrate the Bullet Revisited

To help prepare for my stint deejaying at the NY Beat 25th Anniversary party last month, I mail-ordered a copy of The Selecter's often overlooked and unfairly maligned Celebrate the Bullet (Captain Mod Records) on CD. Of course, I have vinyl and cassette copies of this album kicking around my collection, but I never happened to come across most of the extra tracks offered here (notably the single "The Whisper," two versions of "Train to Skaville," and "Last Tango in Dub," the b-side to the rare "Celebrate the Bullet" vinyl single--and the booklet includes good liner notes by George Marshall of "Zoot!," "Skinhead Times," and ST Publishing fame to put the album in perspective). Ever since it arrived, I've been playing the hell out of it, as it's been helping me get through some tough times.

At the time of Celebrate the Bullet's release in 1981, the high-pitched fever of 2 Tone had almost burned out (devoured from the outside by unrelenting hype and criticism in the press and from artistic and personal differences between The Selecter and Jerry Dammers within--which led The Selecter to leave 2 Tone, sign directly with Chrysalis, and create their own unnamed label in order to release their second album), and the socio-political mood in England was bleak: unemployment was high, welfare benefits were slashed, and Margaret Thatcher's conservative policies bluntly favored the rich and powerful at the expense and suffering of everyone else. In the midst of all this, The Specials' stunning swansong, the extraordinary Ghost Town EP, was like a bulletin from the front: the youth of the nation were purposeless and bored ("Friday Night, Saturday Morning"); social unrest was endemic ("Ghost Town"); and racial violence was all too common ("Why?"). So, it really should come as no surprise that Celebrate the Bullet, created in this kind of societal pressure cooker, would be a dark, bitter, difficult, and fiercely angry record, picking up where Ghost Town left off. There is no jubilantly upbeat "On My Radio," "Three Minute Hero," or "Too Much Pressure" here. The tenor of the times wouldn't allow it.

Without question, the songwriting, performances, and production on Celebrate the Bullet are all top-notch (and the band felt they had much to prove, as they were unhappy with their debut album, which they thought was rushed--indeed, it was only a matter of three months from their entering the studio until it hit the shops). From the second you put it on, Celebrate the Bullet is instantly recognizable as a Selecter album--though they explore the more mid-tempo ska and reggae-ish aspects of their sound here--which may have disappointed those expecting the same frenetic ska pace of their debut (plus their timing was off; by the time Celebrate the Bullet was released--ska was out, the New Romantics were in). Most notably, The Selecter's lyrics this time out are much more sophisticated, and vividly convey the apocalyptic fear and dread of that period, when the threat of nuclear annihilation (check out this lyric from "Their Dream Goes On": "Faces light up/glow in the daytime/they're all gone...") seemed more inevitable than ever with the election of cold warrior Ronald Reagan in the US, whose rhetoric and policies toward the USSR at the time only served to ramp up the friction between the superpowers. All in all, Britain--if not civilization itself--seemed to be teetering on the edge of the abyss, with everyone seemingly powerless to stop the plunge into darkness.

[Around this time, I remember going to an anti-nuke event at a church and actually being able to touch a ceramic roof tile from Hiroshima that had become so hot in that atomic blast that it had formed bubbles on its surface--which were frozen in time after it cooled. I also saw photos of people who had horrific radiation burns that kept me up late at night for years. It may seem far-fetched now, but back then a lot of us really did worry about dying in a nuclear holocaust; and we were under no illusions that "duck and cover" was going to save our asses.]

While "Celebrate the Bullet" is not about assassination specifically, the single was released around the same time that John Hinckley, Jr. shot President Reagan (and John Lennon had been assassinated only a few months earlier in New York City), so the BBC banned the song and it disappeared without charting. If the managers at the BBC had actually listened to the lyrics, they would have discovered that Pauline Black urges those burning to avenge a killing not to do so: "Put your finger on the trigger/But you don't have to pull it/'Cos you know it won't bring them/Back to you." Spin the globe right now, put your finger on a random spot, and these lyrics will be relevant to that location, considering all the civil wars, ethnic cleansing, sectarian strife, terrorism, and wars between nations currently raging out there. (And despite it being almost 30 years later, so much of what is covered on this album is so depressingly familiar.) The music itself is very similiar in tone and texture to The Selecter's debut instrumental single--though "Celebrate" includes some incredibly dramatic and evocative guitar flourishes. This track should have been huge.

"Deepwater" has strange resonance right now with the sci-fi-sounding Deepwater Horizon environmental mega-disaster and the terrible fact that an extraordinary number of Americans' homes are "underwater"--they owe more on their mortgage than their house is worth: "Deepwater, deepwater/I'm in trouble and I'm up to my neck again/Deepwater, deepwater, I'm out of money and it's banked by the fat-fish/Opening and closing their mouths/But there's no sound in my ears/I never wanted to be in deepwater again."

Throughout the 80s (and 90s), the thought and threat of a "Bombscare" was completely unfamiliar to most Americans (even though the bombings of the World Trade Center in 1993 and the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City in 1995 should have forced some major changes in how we approached terrorist threats, domestic and foreign). The British, and Europeans in general, were sadly used to bombings perpetrated by homegrown terrorist groups. In the years since 9/11, I've been suprised that there haven't been more Times Square-type attempts (but I'm mighty happy that many have been foiled or fizzled!). But The Selecter are dead-on about their purpose: the palpable paranoia, fear, and distrust that they foster: "An unattended bag/in the corridor/Looking innocent/but we're all unsure."

Yet, The Selecter are not just concerned with decrying on the problems of the world. On Celebrate the Bullet, the relationships depicted between friends and lovers are marred by deep dysfunction--damaged by apathy and miscommunication ("Who Likes Facing Situations"); insecurity, loneliness, and anger ("Red Reflections"); character assassination ("Tell Me What's Wrong"); and alienation ("Washed Up and Left for Dead"). It was if the toxic relationships between nations and destructive policies of one's own government had trickled down to poison and corrode the bonds between everyday people.

"Selling Out Your Future," my favorite song on the album, vividly portrays the Cold War paranoia/siege mentality of the time. Pauline Black sings about people surrendering to their fears and trying to withdraw from the world and reality ("Drew the curtains/shut the lights/slept alone on the floor/But you couldn't stop the draft/creeping underneath the front door"). In exchange for this (false) security, they have failed to speak and stand up for their rights and for what's right ("You were taking your time/They were buying your mind/You had nothing to say/nothing to say/So nothing's said/Selling out your future...") and are now boxed into militarism, war, and mass destruction ("Switching on the colour vision/smiling faces lie to you/Faded voices crying Fall into line/then fall-out come tomorrow").

Despite being a seemingly upbeat tune, Celebrate the Bullet ends with "Bristol and Miami," which refers to race riots in both cities brought about by police state-like abuses (Sus laws in Bristol) and brutality (the beating death of Arthur McDuffie at the hands of five white police officers in Miami): "Bristol and Miami/where's it gonna be tomorrow/Anytime or anywhere/it's only time we borrow." The organized oppression of disenfranchised people is terribly universal, but so will be the furious payback. That violence is always lurking just beneath everyday life, just waiting to be set off.

Ska and reggae have a long and commendable history of speaking out against social injustice, which The Selecter uphold brilliantly on Celebrate the Bullet. It's just a damn shame that more people didn't tune in to receive the music and the message.