Back In The Water Again

Today I offer you three new songs from artists who all found fame/ infamy in the 80s and have kept ploughing their particular own furrows ever since- The The, Pet Shop Boys and Nick Cave. All three have devoted fanbases, all three are artists who have something to say, and all three are associated with a distinct sound and style. The need to keep writing and recording seems to be as strong as ever with them all and the idea propagated by Pete Townshend in The Who about dying before he gets old is long gone. In the 1980s there was a certain amount of derision for The Rolling Stones et al still playing rock 'n' roll in their forties. There is nothing ridiculous about this anymore- artists keep going and we are still interested in their music. None of the three here today are solely nostalgia acts either u their old songs will often get the biggest cheers when played live but the new songs are all trying to get something across- about themselves, about aging, about life and death and the state of the world. 

First is Matt Johnson, back as The The, with a single called Cognitive Dissident and a video by Tim Pope. The song has a gnarly blues guitar riff from Little Barrie's Barry Cadogan, plenty of atmosphere and Matt's low register voice, the song swelling with backing vocals into the chorus, 'left is right/ black is white/ Inside out/ Hope is doubt'. Matt has always written the state of the world and the lyrics on Cognitive Dissident circle around our post truth world, emotion and democracy, alienation and AI. The song is the first from an upcoming album Ensoulment (the first for twenty five years) and some gigs. Cognitive Dissident sounds like The The- no surprise there maybe- but the 90s, Dusk era incarnation with Johnny Marr on board rather than the 80s one of Infected and Soul Mining. Matt says the album is hopeful, even though this single is laced with fear, gloom and bad things.

Pet Shop Boys have a new album, Nonetheless, and a single, A new bohemia, and a video starring Neil and Chris, Russell Tovey and Tracey Emin. The Pet Shop Boys are a long way from their Imperial Period of the late 80s to mid 90s, are currently playing an arena tour of greatest hits and on A new bohemia are in reflective, melancholic mood, men in the 60s looking back to their youths and noticing that the passing of time has seen them moved aside by the new generation. 'Like silent movie stars in 60s Hollywood/ No one knows who you are in a hipster neighbourhood', Neil sings noting the invisibility that comes with being old. Later on, as the strings swirl, he confronts mortality and death, 'Every day is a warning evening might forget/ Then the following morning has the sweet smell of regret'. If Matt Johnson has found something to be hopeful about, Neil Tennant does too by the end of the song. 'Where are they now? Where have they gone? Who dances now to their song?', he sings, surrounded in the video by young revellers, Neil and Chris static on the dancefloor. And there is regret too, 'I wish I lived my life free and easier', he says before concluding, 'I'm on my way to a new bohemia'. I don't know if Neil and Chris are raging at the dying of the light, as Dylan Thomas had it, but they're going with disco strings, a day at the beach and acceptance of the turning of the wheel, the struggle of the past forty years replaced by something else- contentment maybe, peace of mind. It's moving stuff. 

Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds are back too with a second single from their upcoming album Wild Gods and an arena tour in the autumn. The online fanbase seem a bit split about the new songs- they're also split about Nick's music pre- and post the death of Arthur Cave in 2015. Some want Nick to return to the hammering, chaotic Old Testament and murder ballads songs of yore. There's a feeling that Warren Ellis and the move to a synth dominated sound over the last decade is weaker in comparison to the bone crunching sound of the Bad Seeds of the 90s. Maybe what the long standing fans are really missing is their own youth, their own past in the 90s where a certain amount of chaos and noise was part of life and they were young enough to deal with it. I get why some of the albums Nick's written since the death of Arthur can be uncomfortable to listen to, difficult to find a way into- I've written before about how much I personally get out of Skeleton Tree, Ghosteen and Carnage. Wild Gods so far feels like the first album where the songs aren't directly about grief and loss (although that will all be in there somewhere I expect), but this one is feeling like Nick's found a way to get in touch with something else. The song Wild Gods was sung from the point of view of a carouser now living in a retirement home- Nick and Neil Tennant at similar stages in life. The new single Frogs rolls in on rippling piano, cymbals and strings and a fantastic bassline, references Cain and Abel early on, and keeps coming back to walking in the Sunday rain, frogs jumping in gutters, the song building and building, endlessly rising towards something that is ever just out of reach. A choir of backing vocals appear, ahh ahhing away, and Nick sings of being 'back in the water again'. Kris Kristofferson walks past kicking a can. It's epic, emotive and uplifting and feels like Nick is choosing life and hope and joy. 

Love Is Stronger Than Death

I've had a bit of a rough time recently, everything seems very close to the surface. The things that distract me- music, blogging, reading (and also these things aren't just distractions, they're the bread and butter of my life in some ways)- still do their job but the long road through grief is exactly that, a long road. Every time you think you've rounded a corner, you get whacked again. The last few weeks have brought all sorts of things up. I don't know why, it's unpredictable and sometimes inexplicable- there doesn't have to be an obvious trigger or an anniversary. Sometimes it's just bad again and I've learned that times like this just has to be accepted and felt and gone through. When other things are also tough- work for instance- it can replace the grief for a while but mainly it amplifies it. Two weeks ago I had a few days where I was utterly pissed off and quite angry- I'm not generally an angry person. Grief seems to turbo charge emotional responses and whereas in the early days and months I could shrug things off- some things, big to other people, seemed inconceivably small to me, no one had died so these things didn't matter. More recently I have been less able to do that. I don't think the saying about time healing is true- you just get used to living with it. 

We decided recently that it was time to get Isaac a headstone. It's been a long story. We went very early on to a stonemason and it felt a bit like we were ordering a new sofa. We then left it for eighteen months, none of us able to deal with the finality of ordering a headstone, deciding on wording and seeing it put in place. There came a point last year where we just felt ready. We tried a different stonemason but for various reasons he couldn't get what we wanted. Two months ago we went back to the first mason, starting back at the beginning, ordered a stone and felt some relief. A few days ago we decided on the wording. We're hopeful it might be installed in the summer. Isaac's birthday and the anniversary of his death are both late November, then quickly comes Christmas and then a long winter into spring. Having the headstone erected in July and maybe marking it in some way, in the summer months with warmth and sun and late light evenings, feels like it might break the sometimes wintry feel we often have at the cemetery. 

We go to see Isaac at least once a week, a visit to his grave has become part of our ritual. At first going to see him was tough but felt necessary but it did feel like every time we went we had to say goodbye to him again. As time has gone on and the rituals of visiting him have developed, going to his grave has started to feel like we go to say hello to him. We've tried to keep the flower pots and planters full of colour through the two winters he's been there, planting daffodils and white flowers, taking tulips and daffs for the vase and keeping the grave feeling fresh. In some ways when we go it feels like we're still looking after him. The pigs in the field behind the cemetery often come up to the fence. The pylons overhead buzz a little. More often than not the bus goes past on the road in the distance. All these things seems to be part of him now. 

This song was written by Matt Johnson in the aftermath of the death of his brother Eugene in 1989 and recorded for The The's Dusk album, released in 1993. I hadn't listened to it for many years until Khayem posted it at Dubhed a few weeks ago. It seems to sit (partly at least) somewhere in the space that I am currently in. 

Love Is Stronger Than Death

'Me and my friend were walking/ In the cold light of morning/ Tears may blind the eyes but the soul is not deceived/ In this world even winter ain't what it seems'

I believe that the friend referenced in the first line is Johnny Marr. Matt and Johnny were walking in one of London's parks after a night in the studio recording.

'Here come the blue skies, here comes the springtime/ When the rivers run high and the tears run dry/ When everything that dies shall rise'

Our visits to the cemetery have changed, become a positive, part of a weekly ritual that we do for him. Sometimes it genuinely does feel like we go to say hello and that indeed love is stronger than death. 

This section is longer and more complex, and you probably don't need my commentary on it, so I'll just leave it here. 

'In our lives we hunger for those we cannot touch/ All the thoughts unuttered and all the feelings unexpressed/ Play upon our hearts like the mist upon our breath/But, awoken by grief, our spirits speak: "How could you believe that the life within the seed/ That grew arms that reached and a heart that beat/ And lips that smiled, and eyes that cried/ Could ever die?"

Here come the blue skies/ Here comes the springtime/ Love is stronger than death'

Curses, Gina And The Day Your Life Will Change

Curses is a one man outfit based in Berlin, an 80s obsessive with a chilly New Wave/ post- punk sound, all urgency and paranoia, some Cold War dread along with some tough beats beamed in from Belgian New Beat or early acid house. A few years ago his cover version of The The's This Is The Day pricked my ears up, powered by a Hooky- esque bassline that you could dredge a canal with, some bleepy toplines and a vocal that always seems to me like he slightly misses his cue for the first line but makes it work anyway. 

This Is The Day

Last year Curses released a song on Dischi Autunno with vocals from Cici, a sparse, rhythmic, iced tribute to Italian actress and photojournalist Gina Lollobrigada. 

Gina was a high profile international star in the 1950s and 60s and has lived quite the life and aged 94 is still with us, the last of the superstars of the silver screen. She starred alongside Humphrey Bogart in Beat The Devil and Crossed Swords with Errol Flynn as well as films with Yul Brynner, Ernst Borgnine, Frank Sinatra, Burt Lancaster and Tony Curtis. 

Curses has a new album out this month, Incarnadine, more pumped up dark disco and post- punk that sound like they've been mainlined straight from a Berlin of the 1920s/ 1980s transplanted into now. You can buy it here. If you dig around his Bandcamp site you'll also find a thirty eight track compilation album called Next Wave Acid Punx that explains everything, from Gina X to Yello and all points in between. 

Your Life Will Surely Change

I wasn't sure about this the first time I heard it but its grown on me massively, a cover version of The The's This Is The Day, Matt Johnson's 1983 single that never strays far from my stereo. This cover is by Curses, a New Yorker resident in Berlin releasing songs on a label based in Athens (Greece not Georgia). The doomy bassline churns along playing off against loud synths and a huge kick drum. There are splinters of guitar, some piano and the vocals are smothered in reverb, some distance away. A 2019 version of the 1980s post- punk, death disco sound, EBM, Belgian New Beat, industrial- all the underground genres.



Curses cover version is from a compilation put out by Lagasta to celebrate their tenth anniversary, fifteen cover versions including takes on Cities In Dust, West End Girls and Human Fly. Get it here from Bandcamp (name your price so no risk).

End Of The Year

Despite what I wrote a fortnight ago about this being a good year for music I'm not sure that 2017 will go down as a good year. Brexit continues to be a monumental mistake which will fuck this country over for the foreseeable future. It is divisive, regressive and blinkered, a country committing a slow suicide. My only hope is that it eventually screws the Conservative Party over completely- who created this mess and have to take the blame. In the US Trump continues to normalise views and opinions which should have been long dead and buried, not to mention deliberately provoking an unstable dictator in North Korea, in some kind of nuclear dick-measuring contest. As the year went on a succession of stories of men abusing their position and power flowed out. If 2017 has been grim, 2018 looks like being just as bad, if not worse.

Still, there's always music to cheer us up. When I wrote my list two weeks ago I missed a couple of things out which I should have included. Paresse's slow motion Scandinavian house has been a favourite of mine for a few years now and this year's Sloth Machine ep was no exception. This is the closing track.

Quiet Light

Matt Johnson and The The returned to the fray with a vinyl only Record Shop Day release, a tribute to his brother Andy who died earlier this year. We Can't Stop What's Coming is a beautiful song, moving and genuine.



It seems right to mention the response in May to the bombing at Manchester Arena. The response was solidarity and strength, standing together not apart. It was also musical- from honorary Mancunian Ariana Grande putting together a massive concert at short notice at the cricket ground (just up the road from here) to the adoption of Don't Look Back In Anger as a sung two fingers to terror.  My old school, Parrs Wood High School, provided the choir at the One Love concert and a host of pop stars sang their hearts out. We watched on TV through tears.



When the Supersonic documentary was on the other night my Twitter timeline was mainly full of people expressing the view that 'I never particularly liked Oasis but this documentary is really good'.

Lastly, in early May an event took place which confirmed my belief that people are essentially good and that bloggers are generally wonderful people. And that sometimes taking what seems like a risk is the right thing to do. A bunch of us- me, Brian (Linear Tracking Lives), Dirk (Sexy Loser), Walter (A Few Good Times) travelled from respectively Manchester, Seattle and Germany to Glasgow to meet the locals-Drew (Across the Kitchen Table), JC (The Vinyl Villain) and Stevie (Charity Chic Music), plus a few of JC's mates (Aldo, Comrade Colin, Strangeways). It was a risk- none of us knew if we'd get on or what would happen- but it paid off. We all have a new set of friends (real life friends now as well as internet friends) and I feel sure it will happen again. And everyone else is welcome too.

I was trying to think of a song that might find approval from the whole Glasgow bloggers collective, the international chancers (as Drew dubbed us), a song that we would say 'aye, that's a belter'. 80s indie looks likely. Early Primal Scream seems to fit the bill.

Velocity Girl

We Can't Stop What's Coming

Fresh up on the net after the limited vinyl release for RSD, The The with a one off reunion of Johnny Marr, James Eller and Zeke Manyika (1989 line up with Johnson, Marr and Eller pictured above. Johnny Marr's hair and clobber was pretty much what I was trying to achieve at that time). A tribute to Matt's brother, Andy Dog, as I'm sure you all know. This is a very special piece of music.

All Your Friends And Family Think That You're Lucky

I've posted This Is The Day by The The before, twice in fact, but until last week I had never seen the video.



None of you need me to tell you what a great song this is, from the accordian to the softly sung vocals and the affecting autobiographical lyrics. I always assumed Matt was singing about a woman he knew but it occurred to me watching the video that he might be singing to himself. Either way, the observations are spot on. It is also one of those songs which seems to be about you. I'm also a big fan of the 1993 version complete with Casio organ preset rhythm (also known as That Was The Day)

This Is The Day (Disinfected Version)

The early 90s full band version of The The, including Johnny Marr and James Eller plus Zeke Manyika, reunited for a RSD only 7" playing tribute to Matt's artist brother Andy, who designed the eye catching The The sleeves, who sadly died last year. Just 2000 copies, no re-release, no downloads. I know at least one person reading this has one.

I Don't Even Know Myself

I was listening to Soul Mining, now (and then I think) seen as one of 1983's most important releases. It is the work of a man in his early twenties and some of the lyrics are a bit overwrought as a result but at least three of the songs are as good as anything else anyone put out that year- This Is The Day, Uncertain Smile and Giant. The lyrics of Giant- and much of Matt Johnson's output- deal with existential angst, long nights of the soul, and he gets it all out in this one. How can anyone know him? He doesn't even know himself. Giant also offers a massive step forward- you can hear the future in Giant, in the pitter-patter of the drums, the big synth bassline, the length of the song, the groove, the mad percussion break down  after five minutes and in the extended chanted vocals.

Giant

Uncertain Smile

Mrs Swiss is away for the weekend with friends at a cottage in the country- a weekend that started on Friday afternoon and she has craftily managed to get to last until half way through Monday. Yesterday afternoon while child no. 2 was at a danceshow rehearsal, I convinced child no. 1 that we should do  a little record shopping. We went to Soundwaves in Stretford Arndale to pick something up and then popped into the ever excellent King Bee Records in Chorlton. Isaac's tolerance for record shopping is limited so it was a hit and run affair, straight into the dance/house section followed by the 80s indie/alternative rack and then Factory and Related. Didn't get to punk, he lost interest and the shop was pretty full. We left shortly after with a handful of winners. Like this one, the 12" of The The's Uncertain Smile. This video isn't much to look at but the song, the song is first rate, and it uses the full 12" of vinyl space to great effect.

Pull Back The Curtains

I've been feeling a bit uninspired this week and busy with work stuff. Then driving home last night this shuffled onto the car's stereo- This Is The Day by The The. Compared to a lot of Matt Johnson's stuff it's pretty subtle, those lovely observational lyrics, the wheezy rhythm and that gorgeous accordion. And compared to his grand geopolitical songs and denunciations of religion it shows that sometimes it's the little human touches that make a song connect. This is the day, her life will surely change.

This Is The Day

The Memories That Hold Your Life Together Like Glue

This Is The Day by The The is one of those songs that defies being taken to bits-  describing its constituent parts and holding it up to the light doesn't help explain how great it is, how universal it is, how affecting it is. The character in the song looks back on their life, red eyed at dawn, and looks at this as the day that their life will change. Which it may.

This Is The Day

Lust

Johnny Marr joined The The after leaving The Smiths, and this was the lead single from the second album he did with them, Dusk, released in 1992. While many people say Johnny's never matched the standards he set in The Smiths (and who else has?), this is one of his post-Smiths gems. Opening with Johnny's raspy harmonica and then a swampy, dirty guitar track, coupled with Matt Johnson's husky vocals and heavy drums. There's a great breakdown with the harmonica and guitar riff, before the meaty, swampy groove comes back. A must for your Johnny Marr compilation cd.

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