Showing posts with label Public Image Ltd.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Public Image Ltd.. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

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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Saturday, June 4, 2016

Duff Review: "Outside The Lines: Lost Photographs of Punk and New Wave's Most Iconic Albums"

Matteo Torcinovich with Sebastiano Girardi
Octopus Books
2016

(Review by Steve Shafer)

The subtitle of this beautiful collection of photographs is a bit of a misnomer, as the previously unpublished shots presented here are from the same photo sessions that produced many of the iconic punk and new wave album covers that we've come to know and love and were mostly just long forgotten in the photographers' archives. Rather, these are the contenders that, for whatever editorial and aesthetic choices were made at the time, didn't make the cut (maybe it would have been more punk rock to call these series of pictures the "rejected photos..."). Either way, it's a fascinating, "backstage" look at what might have been, had any of these alternative shots been used on these classic punk and new wave LPs.

A few years ago, Italian graphic designer and punk/new wave afficionado Matteo Torcinovich was looking at the LP cover for the Damned's debut album and wondered if there were other, associated shots from that session. So, he contacted the photographer Peter Gravelle and, to Torcinovich's surprise, they began a long correspondence, which resulted in Torcinovich getting his hands on the unused Damned album cover pictures, which fueled his desire to track down many more of these discarded cover shots. After combing through his own record collection, selecting 150 of his favorite punk and new wave records from 1976 to 1982, Torcinovich reached out to all of the photographers involved and the results (if the photographers were alive, cooperative, and hadn't lost the negatives to time) from 46 cover photo sessions (for bands like the Ramones, Ian Dury, Ultravox, Blondie, Elvis Costello, David Bowie, Lene Lovich, The B-52's, The Cure, PiL, John Foxx, Echo and The Bunnymen, Suicide, Bauhaus, and more) are presented in "Outside the Lines."

Ska fans and long-time readers of this blog, in particular, will want to take a look at Chalkie Davies' alternate shots for The Specials' debut record, one of which (the blue tinted shot) is pretty fantastic.

There are several essays that provide pop-cultural context for this musical era (the best is probably the one by Glenn O'Brien, known for his columns in "Interview," "Art Forum," "Spin"--and in one of Torcinovich's two essays, the biggest revelation is that he discovered who took the cover shot of Iggy Pop's The Idiot--it was always assumed to be Andy Kent, who took the Lust for Life photo--but was, in fact, a one-off, black and white Polaroid taken by Iggy's friend and collaborator David Bowie!), as well as short introductions to each series of photos related to these album covers. Some of the intros contain fascinating and insightful quotes from the photographers about their work (such as Martyn Goddard's recollections about shooting The Jam's In the City cover and Jim Rakete's on the Nina Hagen Band cover), but all too often you're left craving more details and factoids. Having said that, the images and contact sheets presented here are generally nothing less than stunning and will be eagerly sought out by new wave and post-punk fans (if you have "This Ain't No Disco: New Wave Album Covers" on your shelf, this book is for you!).

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Monday, November 23, 2015

The Duff Guide to Post-Punk Gig Review: Public Image Ltd. at The PlayStation Theater, NYC, on 11/16/15!

John Lydon and PiL telling it like it is.
Editor's note: Forgive me that I'm breaking with my mission to cover ska here, but as you many have realized, I'm a massive fan of new wave and post-punk, and may occasionally cover a bit more of those genres here in the future. Yes, it muddies the waters a bit, but everything in my life is a bit messy. Ignore this post if you only want ska. 

"An Evening with Public Image Ltd."
PlayStation Theater, Times Square, New York
11/16/15

(Review by Steve Shafer)

Following the barbaric terrorist attacks on Paris just a few days earlier, it was probably prudent that the heavy security measures one had to go through in order to enter the Public Image Ltd. show had been enacted. Every concertgoer received 1) a full-body pat down, 2) had a metal detector run over their arms, legs, and torso, and 3) their bags, if any, were thoroughly searched (afterwards, I felt like I should have been locating my departure gate). But waiting that night on the long line to enter the venue with all of the graying and stout forty- and fifty-something PiL fans (and a smattering of young punks!)--with all of the Times Square tourists swirling around us (who had no idea who PiL were when they asked what we were queued up for)--and then going through the airport-style security, it all felt somewhat absurd and surreal, like we had lost our bearings (fear of possible attack wasn't usually part of the equation). We were gathered there for the music, perhaps a message, and certainly for a bit a fun with our friends (as were our compatriots at the Bataclan...). It never crossed my mind not to go see PiL, but the mass murder in Paris had imposed new meaning on attending their show that night. Yet, I doubt that it was anyone's primary intention for it to be an act of defiance (though, more on that later).

Did some of us feel guilt or shame to be participating in the same, seemingly innocent type of event that resulted in so many people being killed? Perhaps. (Guilt washed over me while I was waiting on line, watching the Times Square news ticker displaying the latest, horrific updates from Paris...) I suppose the indiscriminate slaughter of music fans and cafe-goers was meant to cow all of us in Europe and America into giving up the pleasure of going out with friends to a gig or for a drink and a bite to eat--the fun stuff that unites us and strengthens our bonds with each other. So, the only rational response for the average person living in a free society is to keep on doing these things--to ensure that they continue to be possible, even in uncertain times. And that's just what we all did, consciously or not.

The PlayStation Theater is in the sub-basement of an ugly, behemoth of an office building, which houses MTV and Viacom (and explained the music industry-types I encountered at the bar). When I descended the long staircase and entered the actual concert hall (which was comprised of two open, dance floor levels and a balcony with theater seating), it dawned on me that I'd been in this venue once before, when it was the former Loews Astor movie theater. The last time I had been there was in 1977, when I was eleven, to see "Star Wars" for the first time (shown on a 70mm print!). Mind blown, then and now.

There was no opening act for PiL, but plenty of fantastic dub reggae pumping out of the PA, no doubt selected by John Lydon (AKA Johnny Rotten), who's been a huge, very knowledgeable reggae fan since his teens. The 2,100-capacity theater was nearly full when Lydon and his PiL bandmates--Lu Edmonds (Mekons, Damned) on guitar, Scott Firth (Elvis Costello, The Spice Girls!) on bass, and Bruce Smith (Pop Group, Slits) on drums--hit the stage for two hours of completely blistering and mesmerizing post-punk/dance-rock. To be honest, I never expected it to have been this good.

Ever the sharp provocateur, Lydon--at almost 60 (!)--gave one of the most animated, funny, engaging, and compelling performances I've ever seen. Not one moment was phoned in; he gave it his all throughout the entire set, like it was the only gig that would ever matter (how exactly can his voice survive night after night of this?!). Madly gesturing, mugging, and making eye contact with seemingly everyone in the crowd, Lydon caterwauled, bellowed, spit out, and sang (as only he does) gleefully defiant songs challenging convention, power, and authority (more on that later), on tracks ranging from PiL's first single in 1978 ("Public Image") through key selections from their new 2015 album, What the World Needs Now... (released on their own PiL label). And it seemed like every song was presented in its expansive 12 inch version, long enough for us to fully inhabit it--to become transfixed by the rhythm section's Rock of Gibraltar-solid grooves and Edmonds' slashes of (what else?) angular post-punk guitar, so Lydon could have all the time he needed to convey his voluminous thoughts on a particular subject. ("Religion" must have been about 10 or 12 minutes long--I watched the first five minutes, then went off to empty my bladder, and returned in time for the last few minutes of the song and its theatrics: The very Jesus-like Edmonds was presented as the Son of God, while Firth played the Devil.)

Fairly early in the set, during a fantastic rendition of "This is Not Love Song," Lydon bitingly (and somewhat outrageously) commented (to loud cheers), "Sommme people cancel concerts--weeee never cancel concerts!" It was a cheeky piss-take on U2 and their cancelled Paris show, diminished a bit by the relative safety of our perch, way over on this side of the Atlantic. Nonetheless, it endeared PiL to the fans and was an acknowledgement of the unusual context of the evening (plus, it a was a tweak of Bono's nose!).

Almost half of their 15-song set was filled with new tracks from What the World Needs Now...--and in their live permutations, they fit in seamlessly with much of PiL's older hits. I particularly liked "Double Trouble," "Bettie Page" (about our repressed, but sex-obsessed American society), "Corporate," and a positively menacing "Shoom" (which was so much better realized live than on its recording). Of the tracks they performed from PiL's back catalogue, "The Body" (1987) was the ferocious highlight of the bunch, with the crowd singing along with the backing vocals, as Lydon wailed above us. (I've always thought "The Body" to be one of PiL's most perfect/catchy post-punk dance songs, one that recognizes society's oftentimes predatory sexual pursuit of women, but advocates responsibility--parents must raise children who will grow up to be good, decent human beings, which includes teaching them to use birth control--shades of "Too Much Too Young"--to avoid unwanted pregnancies and abortions!).

In particular, organized religion and tech/social media companies came under searing attack. The best line in "Religion" was, "Why should I call you father? You're not my Daddy!" And before "Corporate" began, Lydon sincerely (!) implored us to remember that, "Weeee are the one, all of us!" (as he pointed around the room in an inclusive, circular motion)--before ranting about how all of our devices and social media have effectively killed off ("Murderer!") real human relationships/interaction (and our capacity for empathy) and replaced communities with sham connections that serve to separate/divide us and bring out our very worst instincts ("Not global villages/But one globe/Not itty bitty little villages/of pity and learning how to/survive in the 21st century/And looking at World War III/Because all humans seem to hate humanity"). Indeed, the message between the lines this evening was that institutions are suspect, but that we do belong to--and have a responsibility for--each other (in the recent Vive Le Rock #30, Lydon states, "I like the idea of a caring society. Guess what? I became an American citizen because of Obama; he promised Obamacare and delivered on it.").

The final track before the encore was "Shoom," with its chorus of, "What the world needs now is...Fuck off!" and a fantastic, pulsing bass line (the chorus of the song is, presumably, a take on the 1965 Hal David/Burt Bacharach pop song "What the World Needs Now is Love," which was a hit for Jackie DeShannon that same year). It took us all a little while to catch on that Lydon wanted us to do the "Fuck off" part of the chorus, when he dangled the microphone and stand over the audience, like a mad boom operator. Eventually, we got it and heartily shouted our expletives (in a song chock full of them!). Lydon doesn't presume to have the answers to the host of global and personal problems that we're all facing. He most certainly thinks you should think up your own solutions. But he also firmly believes that you should call out anything and everything that is false--"bollocks"! (God forbid, you try to fool him: "Do you think that/You can play me/Do you think that/You can sway me...I'm working class, me/Right at the start/I'm horse and cart, me/Right in the heart/Four to the floor, beat/Grove in the heat/I'm always complete/I come from the street!")

The encore consisted of a spirited, yet somewhat ragged, "Public Image"--which elicited a massive roar of approval from the audience--and everyone sang along to the Irish blessing chorus of PiL's oblique but phenomenal 1986 anti-South African apartheid hymn "Rise." (It should be noted that the lyric,"Anger is an energy" is not a call to riot; Lydon also explains in Vive Le Rock #30 that after he contracted spinal meningitis as a young boy, the illness, "also took my memories for four years and that was a very long, slow process to regain my personality, to regain my life, and that's where the concept of "anger is an energy" comes from. The doctors were advised to not make life easy for me, to keep me angry, to spur the memories back...For me, "anger" has never been a violent thing, it doesn't represent hate or anything like that. Anger to me is a very positive force in my life. When I had the opportunity to use it the song "Rise," that is what I was trying to explain. But I never fully developed on it to an audience. I just hoped that people would pick up on it...It is an anthem. It's about hope. It's a hope-filled song. It doesn't preach violence or hate. It's odd that people think that. I've never preached those things. Unless it's against institutions; I hate them. Not people. There is a difference.")

When Lydon had sung his final, triumphant "Anger is an energy" and the lights came up, the crowd stayed put and applauded and cheered for at least a full five minutes, possibly more. What we had witnessed and experienced was so extraordinary, that we couldn't permit PiL to leave the stage so quickly. (Did we need time to process all that had take place--a moment to transition back to our normal lives?) Lydon was visibly touched by the reaction and thanked us all repeatedly. Before he finally exited the stage, Lydon waved his arm across the audience, pointed and stared at a wide swath of us, and slowly said, "I see all of you."

And I believe he did.

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PiL's set list, New York City, 11/16/15

"Double Trouble"
"Know Now"
"This Is Not a Love Song"
"Bettie Page"
"Deeper Water"
"Corporate"
"Death Disco"
"The One"
"Disappointed"
"The Body"
"Warrior"
"Religion"
"Shoom"

Encore:
"Public Image"
"Rise"

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