James - Laid

 

James - Laid

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

When we hear about great artists, we often hear stories of instant success. Bands come crashing out of the gates with a hit record – or they follow up a tentative debut with an amazing second album. But what happens when success doesn’t come easily?

James are an English rock band from Manchester. They came up through the ranks in the mid-80s when trends like acid house and Madchester were taking off in their home city. The played at Peter Hook’s club The Hacienda and were hometown favorites. But commercial success elsewhere still illuded them.

Then 1992 came along, and they were asked to open for Neil Young on an acoustic tour. Young had much success at picking up and coming bands to support him on tour. He’d previously tapped Social Distortion and Sonic Youth to open for him.

Playing acoustically opened up a whole new world for James. They wrote a bunch of new songs in a subtler style and got Roxy Music’s Brian Eno to produce them. The resulting album, Laid was released in 1993. But how did it stack up? Could James finally get that hit they were trying for?

The dreamy slide and acoustic guitars of “Out To Get You” introduce the album in soothing fashion. Singer Tim Booth’s voice enters in a warm, sonorous tone. It’s a sound not unlike what Moose were mining at the time – hip, urbane, and sophisticated. Much different than the Britpop of the era. But things would only get better on track two.

“Sometimes” boasts a larger-than-life sound with group vocals reminiscent of gospel music. The rhythm section resembles that of “High” by The Cure. Booth’s lyrics deal with thunderstorm, and he beckons the lightning to strike him. Eno’s production only enhances the transcendence of the track.

His mix is shimmering, bringing the acoustic guitars and the bass to the forefront. This makes the song sound both bright and murky at the same time.

Beginning with reverbed drums and dobro, “One Of The Three” has a bluesy feel resembling “Water Of Love” by Dire Straits. But once Booth enters and the atmospheric keyboards color his vocals in the chorus, it sounds more like a stadium rousing anthem, albeit one at a ballad’s pace.

“P.S.” displays the influence of touring alongside Neil Young. The guitars have a Americana, country rock flavor to them. Slide guitars with heavy delay slowly burn over a mournful three-chord dirge. Booth again uses his lowest voice to start the track, but suddenly raises it in an emotive contrast.

It’s an effective tool and he uses it well. Booth is clearly a gifted vocalist, but it’s not just that he hits every note with skill. He knows when to pull back and when to give a line extra color.

But of course, we can’t end the review without talking about “Laid.” The college radio hit that broke the band in America, “Laid” was also a somewhat risky choice as a single. (Skip the next paragraph if you don’t want to read about why.)

With lyrics like “She only comes when she’s on top” – changed to “sings” in the single version – and its title, it was an obvious love song to the act of lovemaking. When Booth screeches “You think you’re so pretttyyyyyyyy” in a falsetto voice in the chorus, it’s both hilarious and celebratory.

For a band that was getting a reputation as one who took itself too seriously, James proved they could cut loose when writing about primal urges. Musically, it’s a bouncy jangle pop song which also recalls David Bowie and The Kinks. The vocals sound like Bowie in his glam phase while the character sketch of the woman the song is addressed to is pure Ray Davies.

Some bands have instant success. Others toil away for years without a hit. James are the latter kind. As the ultimate underdog band, their album Laid is both a feelgood story and an exercise in soaring perfection.

Mercury1993

 

 

 

Teenage Fanclub – Songs From Northern Britain

 

Teenage Fanclub – Songs From Northern Britain

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

Scotland is a very green country. Look at any movie, play, or photograph set there, and you are bound to see a lush landscape. It is a symbol used by many artists – to contrast a bitter struggle with beautiful scenery.

Teenage Fanclub were just the latest to use that symbol. The cover to their 1997 album Songs From Northern Britain showed a dense green field in the Scottish countryside. But the music is just as evocative of that image.

As a band, Teenage Fanclub’s sound can be described as bright jangly guitars mixed with power pop overtones. The Bellshill quartet were primarily based around the songwriting of singer/guitarist Norman Blake, singer/bassist Gerard Love and singer/guitarist Raymond McGinley. Their harmonies were a hallmark of their sound until Love left in August 2018.

After releasing albums like 1991’s Bandwagonesque and 1995’s Grand Prix to rave reviews, fans had to be wondering – could they continue the hot streak? And how would their sound change?

As it turns out, the album was no big departure. But there were subtle changes. Blake kicks the album off in top form with “Start Again.” The track is much like other Teenage Fanclub openers – a strong melody line, an anthemic chorus – but with small differences.

They sound mellower and slightly slower here than on previous openers “The Concept” and “About You.” The song also uses a farfisa organ to great effect. It evokes British sounds of the past without sounding retro. A should’ve-been summertime hit.

“I Don’t Want Control of You” is another romantic Blake tune. But this one is almost antithetical to the typical relationship song. In the lyrics, Blake extols the virtues of healthy boundaries in a relationship. There is a sweetness in the music which matches perfectly with the lyrics – the three-way harmonies give the track a breezy, summery feel.

Gerard Love delivers two excellent tunes in “Ain’t That Enough” and “Take The Long Way Round.” Both are centered around relationships and enjoying the simple pleasures of summertime. “Ain’t That Enough” deals with basking in the sunshine with someone special, while “Take The Long Way Round” evokes images of a leisurely Sunday drive.

McGinley delivers a gem of his own near the end. “Your Love Is The Place Where I Come From” manages to be both melancholy and sweet with minor key guitars and McGinley’s romantic croon.

Perhaps Blake’s “Winter” is the strongest track on the album. Breezy harmonies and major key guitars elevate the chorus to another level. The song is very reminiscent of ‘60s guitar pop, as well as the sounds Big Star channeled in the ‘70s.

The irony is that Blake writes the would-be feel good hit of the summer and titles it “Winter.” The cheery melody is contrasted with lyrics about the summer ending. This contrast of melancholy lyrics and a bright melody is well worn territory. But Blake makes it sound fresh here.

Because Teenage Fanclub is uniformly excellent, it is difficult to get a consensus on what their “best” album is. However, a strong case can be made for Songs From Northern Britain. It’s breezy sounds evoking the spring and summer days when Britpop ruled the charts, and festival bills were stacked with talent.

Creation/1997

 

 

 

 

Lush - Lovelife

 

Lush - Lovelife

By

Jesse E. Mullen

An American distribution deal can make or break a British band. If an album is licensed to a sympathetic American label, it can be a success. There is mutual respect, and the label doesn’t set the band up for failure.

On the flipside, a bad deal can run a talented group into the ground. Or exhaust them to the point where tragedy strikes. Such was the case with Lush. A songwriting partnership between singer/rhythm guitarist Miki Berenyi and lead guitarist Emma Anderson, the British quartet were initially a part of the shoegazing scene of the 80s and 90s.

However, they made a gradual shift towards Britpop, culminating in 1994’s Split and 1996’s Lovelife. Sadly, their American label Reprise didn’t understand how to promote them. A grueling, highly misguided tour opening for The Gin Blossoms in the latter half of 1996 proved too much, and Lush were on the verge of breaking up.

Tragically, they wouldn’t all make it through the year. Drummer Chris Ackland committed suicide on October 17^th, 1996. He was 30.

But the year didn’t start off this bad for Lush. It was actually quite good at first. “Single Girl” and “Ladykillers,” received a strong reception. And the album Lovelife made the top 10 in the UK album charts. Statistics are one thing, but how an album stacks up as a whole is another. So how does it hold up?

The album gets off to a rocking start with “Ladykillers.” Berenyi is in punk pop fashion, describing humorous accounts of egotistical men. She winds up dating one for a summer, before dumping the narcissist for good. It’s a strong start, but Emma Anderson was not one to be upstaged.

Things improve further with the jangly “500 (Shake Baby Shake.” Using a Fiat 500 as a metaphor for a man of her interest, Anderson turns in her sunniest composition of the album. Musically, the song resembles the lighter moments on Wish by The Cure. The bright, arpeggiated guitar tones recall “Friday I’m In Love.”

“Last Night” is something new entirely. Anderson is experimenting with club beats and trippy tremolo guitars. It wouldn’t sound out of place on Radiohead’s The Bends. Lyrically the track is in supernatural territory. Anderson writes of a magical recipe for a serum to keep its user young forever.

The track seems to be a sly commentary on celebrity culture and how humans are obsessed with looking younger than we really are.

Anderson is back in dreamy Lush territory on “Tralala.” The lyrics describe those who only want to kick us when we’re down. Musically, it’s a stripped back ballad. She uses shimmering chord changes and subtle leads to great effect.

For her part, Berenyi contributes a gorgeously poignant vocal. Much like her work on previous Lush ballads such as “When I Die,” her slight rasp adds texture and resonance to Anderson’s words.

Berenyi tried something totally different on “Ciao!” She invited Jarvis Cocker of Pulp to sing the male role in a character-based breakup duet. It’s not entirely successful, as both Berenyi and Cocker’s characters come across as particularly insufferable. But maybe that was the point.

The album ends on another poignant note with the Anderson-penned “Olympia.” The lyrics describe admiring another girl to the point of wanting to be her. In our current world of celebrity culture, it’s possibly even more meaningful now than it was in 1996.

Musically, it’s another sweet ballad with gentle acoustic guitars and mellotron. Anderson and Berenyi sing in harmony before the band enters. A horn and string section joins in the final third, bringing the track to another level. The final line “And now, time to switch off” is even more poignant, knowing what we now know.

Some bands go out with a whimper, not a bang. Not Lush. Although they were unfair victims of a changing musical landscape, and a fickle British music press, they proved they could make a great album under terrible – and soon to be tragic – circumstances.

4AD/1996