Volume 12 Side Three - Curve, Throwing Muses, Kitchens of Distinction, Buffalo Tom, Manic Street Preachers

1. Curve - Ten Little Girls (Anxious)

While Curve emerged on the music scene seemingly from nowhere in 1991, both Toni Halliday and Dean Garcia had a long history. Both had previously played in the group State of Play together, who ran up a £100,000 debt producing two flop singles and a flop album for Virgin. Toni Halliday went off to attempt a solo career, which had a slightly higher media profile (though Record Mirror somewhat sniffily referred to her as "another pretty blonde in a leather jacket") but didn't really catch the public's imagination either. While her solo records weren't awful, they were also distinctly unmemorable, slick late eighties pop fare.

Given all the above, when Garcia and Halliday reunited for Curve in December 1989, nobody expected fireworks. Both had enormous talent, but neither had really successfully utilised it outside of a "session musician/ voice for hire" context, and certainly neither had managed to produce anything of particular note while working together. At the time, then, Curve were a huge shock. Toni Halliday re-emerged with jet black hair, pale shining foundation and thick mascara, fronting a rumbling juggernaut of Garcia's soundscapes. There were those who suspected the entire situation was contrived - a last-ditch attempt by two flop musicians in their late twenties to obtain credibility and a mainstream career by stealth. The fact they were signed to Dave Stewart's Anxious label did little to assuage these critics.

The first single "Ten Little Girls" doesn't sound as if it could possibly have been created in a cynical way, though. Garcia clearly took to the foundations of the track with an acute precision. It feels like a finely sculpted piece of industrial noise, smoothed and sanded into softer and more peculiar shapes. While other groups of the era tried to jar the listener with an onslaught of noise, "Ten Little Girls" contains a richness of detail. From the howls of feedback to the rattling rhythm track and rumbling basslines, to Halliday's varied and evolving lyrics and vocal contributions, it manages to feel aggressive and urgent without losing its impact forty or fifty listens down the line. Halliday's voice is also being used to brilliant effect here. Outside of a pop context, it's softness can be made to sound dangerous and threatening. Even the added rap, which was normally a horrible early nineties mistake on indie records, works well here, contributing an added aggression.

Curve became music press icons very quickly, appearing on numerous front covers, aided partly by the fact that Toni Halliday was (let's be honest) not unattractive. My teenage self was fascinated by her looks and neurotic lyricisms, as indeed was just about every heterosexual and bisexual boy at college.

Given all the above, the world should have been their oyster, but as we'll go on to discover, Curve's sound, while sounding fantastically new and startling at first, rapidly became familiar. And while they made frequently marvellous records, all were niche sounds which lacked obvious pop melodies and didn't sit easily on "Top of the Pops"; although they would eventually appear on that show.



2. Throwing Muses - Counting Backwards (4AD)

Next to Curve, Throwing Muses sounded almost conventional in this track sequencing, but obviously they're not. "Counting Backwards" is yet another example of them weaving a hook-ridden pop tune around a quirky and unusual structure. There are moments around the chorus where it almost finds a Talking Heads styled groove, only for the track to slide back into a tumbling rhythm pattern and peculiar howling guitar lines.

With each progressive LP release, the group were steadily reaching more people. When we first met them on Volume Three of this series with "Cry Baby Cry", they were a seriously cult concern, sounding rough around the edges and faintly out of step with the era. As time progressed, however, their eccentricity became a beacon for numerous fans who recognised that Kristin Hersh occupied an intelligent and uninhibited arthouse approach not easily found in late eighties and early nineties alternative music (outside of Sugarcubes records, anyway). They had few rivals, and "Counting Backwards" is an example of an immediately memorable single with beautiful spikes and angles attached. They were now moving away from the world of inky fanzines and into the glossy pages of Q magazine.



3. Kitchens of Distinction - Drive That Fast (One Little Indian) - vinyl and cassette only

With lyrics seemingly taking on the topic of the early stages of a love affair where the conditions and seriousness have yet to fully establish themselves, "Drive That Fast" is simultaneously joyous and paranoid sounding. Whooshing past in a giddy rush, it's elated one minute then cautious the next ("I would never wish this much on you") and the group are asked to keep up with Patrick Fitzgerald's dual emotional state.

It's a lovely take on those early feelings, and utilises a similar roar of guitar effects pedals and multi-tracked ideas to Curve on track one - meaning that this could have more ideally sat as track two. By the end, you're still not quite sure what the romantic conclusion is. The outro is giddy sounding, but sounds equally drunkenly paranoid as loved-up and excited. Fitzgerald sounds as if he has stepped on to a merry-go-round without really giving the option any forethought, and now it's spinning far faster than he expected - a thrilling ride, but if it stops suddenly, he'll be face-first into the gutter with cuts and bruises, and possibly worse if the landing is particularly poor. The thrill wouldn't exist without the danger, but the danger can never be completely eliminated from the thought processes.

While the lyrics are also a simple series of thoughts rather than philosophical musings on the condition, they do have a unique quality by considering the dangers faced by the other half. Quite unusually and generously for pop music, they recognise that two people are facing peril by another possible failed and demanding relationship, not just the singer. The concern expressed is distinctly un-rock and roll and lacking in decadence, and offers to protect the partner rather than view them as a complication.



4. Buffalo Tom - Fortune Teller (Situation Two)

Following the epic sludge of "Birdbrain", "Fortune Teller" was actually something of a let down. A piece of countrified lo-fi, it stumbles along its own particular dirt track occasionally bumping into grungey bits of fury and distortion on the way - but never once really making a coherent case for itself. It's only charm seems to lie in its slightly rugged innocence. Without much in the way of direction, a chorus, or an easily relatable theme, it lurches drunkenly from one segment to the next as if they're inconvenient obstacles and arguments. Frankly, a single it ain't. It's barely even a B side.

Future efforts would be considerably more rounded, and "Fortune Teller" seems to have been the moment Buffalo Tom waved goodbye to any underground roots they had to create better crafted records - and by the sounds of it, that wasn't a bad thing at all.



5. Manic Street Preachers - You Love Us (Heavenly)

"You Love Us" takes the thrilling rush of "Motown Junk" and marries it to a much poppier melody, edging the group that bit closer to the mainstream American rock sounds they admired. Still, while those fiddly, flashy guitar lines did initially seem irksome, "You Love Us" is almost the equal of their Heavenly debut, marrying ridiculous arrogance - whoever heard of a band demanding "You Love Us" in such a direct and obvious way and expecting to be taken seriously? - with an energy which sounds as if it tore the recording studio walls down.

While The Manics seemed surprised by the levels of vitriol spat at them from some quarters, they were clearly doing everything to create a clear dividing line between those who would these days be called "haters" and their fans. "You Love Us" acknowledges both their problem and their attraction with the hasty line "You love us like a holocaust!" and dares listeners to step forward into their camp. It seems like a spectacularly silly gesture, of course, because it is - but then it's tapping into the roots of rock and roll rebellion, only this time the "squares" were the university educated stoners listening to bands like Slowdive, while the hip Manics fans were teenage kids in search of something, anything, remotely glamorous which articulated their frustrations.

To cap it all off, the track finishes with an unashamed steal of Iggy Pop's "Lust for Life" riff, before spluttering suddenly into feedback and confusion and finally nothingness.

This is the last time we'll meet them for the purposes of this blog. After such a shameless display, they promptly signed on the dotted line with Columbia and got ready for superstardom. Far from achieving overnight multi-platinum success, though, the group would embark on a long and wearisome journey which destroyed one member and left the others sounding prematurely haggard and world-beaten by the time they reached the summit. Whether you prefer the young, spunky Manics, the early Columbia era Manics or the sombre but successful and well-fed Manics is, of course, a debate which has kept the group's forums aflame for many a moon, and one which is too complex to go into here... though I may as well add my ha'penny opinion into the mix by briefly saying that "Generation Terrorists" is one of the most disappointing LPs I've ever bought (even containing a neutered and inferior version of this track) and stacked up next to that, "Everything Must Go" is an absolute masterpiece, even if it reached a broader audience Manics fans felt less comfortable sharing air with.

Volume 8 Side 3 - Sugarcubes, Kitchens of Distinction, Fatima Mansions, Wire, Field Mice, Pale Saints

1. The Sugarcubes - Regina (One Little Indian)

"Four, Five, Six, Seven... and Bjork suddenly bursts alight, trilling, preening, calling, beckoning, the scarlet ethereal voice hitting the topmost notes with a heart-stopping clarity, the jiggering rhythm folding across her shoulders" - Melody Maker. 

The pop world hasn't been overburdened with songs penned in tribute to columnists who write for evening newspapers, but The Sugarcubes corrected that matter in 1989 with "Regina". Of course, being The Sugarcubes, the topic of the song was no ordinary woman, being an Icelandic columnist who mainly wrote about the achievements of her neighbours and said very little about the news at all, and their praise to her is occasionally eccentric and rather blurry in its aims. At one point Einar screams "I really don't like lobster!" in a manner usually reserved for political protest songs.

Business as usual back at the Bad Taste camp, then, although rather like the last time we met the group with "Deus", there's a slickness and poppiness to this track which barely matches the lyrics or indeed Einar's demented ramblings. The track clops along at an even pace, and the chorus is a simple, trilled refrain of "Oh oh, Regina!" which threatens never to end in the last minute of the track. The net result is that once the novelty of the sheer absurdity of the lyrics and the subject matter fades, you're left with very little to get excited about.

The album "Regina" stemmed from, "Here Today Tomorrow Next Week" is widely regarded to be a sophomore slump effort, and the fact that "Regina" acted as the lead single from it didn't bode well.



2. Kitchens of Distinction - Elephantine (One Little Indian)

"....hail from Tooting, South London, which is on direct route southwards to Timbuktu. Really. The band form two years ago after a chance encounter at the frozen food section of Safeway in Streatham!"

As the baggy movement began to gather pace and indie-kids started shaking their fringes and imaginary maracas on the dance floor to an assortment of Mancs singing to funky drummer beats in hushed tones, Kitchens of Dinstinction actually began to seem even more out of sorts than they were when they first arrived. For all that, "Elephantine" was possibly their biggest sounding single yet, with a huge yet disconcerting chorus. The track overall lacked their usual dependency on effects pedals and atmospherics and instead launches itself headlong into something approach a traditional tune, albeit one filtered through some peculiar prisms.

Perhaps due to the epic nature of the chorus, "Elephantine" did give the band their biggest indie chart hit yet, but their popularity would never rise much above cult indie appreciation.



3. Fatima Mansions - Only Losers Take The Bus (Kitchenware)

"Fatima Mansions is that very rare thing, a sound that sounds like nothing so much as itself" - 20/20
"The hungry, incredulous 'Only Losers Take The Bus' is perfect" - NME

Microdisney split up following the undeserved failure of their last album "39 Minutes", an unorthodox and astonishing album which featured fierce anti-Thatcherite lyrics backed with smooth Steely Dan styled arrangements and backing vocals from Londonbeat on session duties. The Londonbeat boys apparently sorely objected to getting in the studio to croon along to lines such as "There's nothing wrong with the young would-be rich/ That a head full of lead would not cure" but happily took their paycheque anyway. The record company Virgin didn't see the point of the entire affair, dropped Microdisney, and the group collapsed in disarray.

Lead singer and lyricist Cathal Coughlan wasted absolutely no time in forming a new band, and Fatima Mansions were the swift result. He was out of the traps so fast that, unfortunately, their first mini-LP "Against Nature" did still bear hallmarks of the Microdisney sound on a few tracks, containing familiarly brooding Scott Walker-ish ballads. Among those, however, were also pounding social rants ("The Prince of Caledonia he drives a diesel van/ When he's peddling skag in Hamilton/ He's a reality man!") and perhaps more unusually, Stock Aitken and Waterman styled indie-disco, slightly akin to Robert Lloyd. The group's lack of identity at this point confused more punters than it delighted, and their early work remains relatively overlooked to this day.

The first single "Only Losers Take The Bus" is most definitely remembered, however, being a thunderous, rattling juggernaut of a track, filled with Cathal spouting obtuse lyrics with a righteous fury and demanding, angular guitar riffs. Inspired by Margaret Thatcher's declaration that anyone aged 30 or over who still takes a bus has failed at life, some of the other lines - "Get these dead bodies off my race track!" in particular - hint towards a surreal attack on individualistic, self-centered Conservative values.

Musically it gave few clues about the fury the group were about to unleash on the world, instead hinting that their future lay in quirky indie rock - but nonetheless, it was far from ignored by the press, who were there to wave their flags enthusiastically from the sidelines.



4. Wire - In Vivo (Mute)

"Those masters of uncompromising melody do what they bloody well like (once more). Another slice of unholy Ecstacy on vinyl".

For all the talk of Wire being uncompromising, "In Vivo" really marks the final moment of an uncharacteristically poppy phase for the group. From the release of "A Bell Is A Cup" onwards, a clear sense was beginning to emerge that Wire were now a peculiar but faintly commercial group. "Eardrum Buzz" was proof positive that they could pen in an infuriatingly catchy track, and "Kidney Bingos" and "Silk Skin Paws" showed they could play their grown-up punk associates equally well at the "atmospheric adult pop" game. After this, though, Wire would become much more jarring and experimental.

"In Vivo" offers slick, catchy riffs sliding into an anthemic chorus, and while it never truly puffs its chest out, it's still a comparatively trad single by Wire's normal standards, with barely a sharp edge or unexpected twist or turn to be found. For those reasons, I find it possibly the least interesting of their Mute singles - and the fact it sold less well than many of them possibly indicates that the public felt the same way.

That's not to say it's bad, mind you. There very rarely ever was such a thing as a bad Wire single, and "In Vivo" is bold and shiny enough to be among the finer tracks on "Volume 8". It just doesn't excel.

The album this came from (provided you didn't own the vinyl copy) was "IBTABA", or "It's Beginning To And Back Again", which consisted almost entirely of reimaginings and reconstructions of other recent Wire songs, with the group often pulling the structures to pieces and building songs up again completely from their basic foundations. Frequently regarded as a substandard album in their catalogue, it was actually the first Wire long-player I ever bought, and I initially didn't understand what it was, believing all the tracks on it to be the original versions. When I backtracked later on, I actually thought the true original versions on "A Bell Is A Cup" were inferior, a view I've subsequently revised in some but absolutely not all cases. I still believe that (for example) the moody acoustic take of "Public Place" is the definitive version. "IBTABA" is definitely worth tracking down, but it may take a little bit of adjusting to get used to the parallel universe versions of the tunes on there.



5. Field Mice - If You Need Someone (Sarah)

"Taken from the double 7 inch EP 'The Autumn Store'".

While it's tempting to argue that The Field Mice were a huge cult band at the time, their subsequent influence on bands such as Belle and Sebastian means that their name is even more likely to be uttered by indie kids these days than it was in 1989. Indeed, a compilation of their work "Where'd You Learn To Kiss That Way?" released in 1999 sold more copies than anything released during the group's lifetime.

It would also be tempting to argue that the fey, ponderous approach "If You Need Someone" takes is typical of the group's output, but they actually played around with a wide variety of sounds, as future "Indie Top 20" appearances will prove. There's no question that it's something of a stereotypical Sarah Records release, however - dripping with wide-eyed teenage romance, sensitive promises, buttery guitar lines and plodding drum patterns, it's an indiepop Valentine's card to all women with duffle coats and cute bangs everywhere. And I actually have to confess that as a grown man, I find it slightly tough to get anything out of - this is a dream of a love affair written through the prism of boyish innocence, and it's a pretty listen, but not a very emotionally engaging or inspiring one. Unlike some of their other output, if you created an acoustic version of this and got a female vocalist to take the lead, nobody would really notice anything was up if you put it on a pet food advert in the present day. A strength or a weakness (or a sign that my true vocation lies in soundtracking adverts)? You decide.



6. Pale Saints - Sight Of You (4AD)

"This, the first to benefit from the band's jigsaw theory of song A songwriting pregnant with meaning".

WHAT?! Did "Indie Top 20" get that piece of blurb from a bad translation of a Hungarian music press review?

Anyway, "Sight Of You", from their "Barging Into The Presence Of God" EP, was such a huge track at the time that it hung around the Indie Top 10 seemingly forever, and featured in the final 10 of John Peel's 1989 Festive Fifty.

Along with the work of My Bloody Valentine, there's an arguable case to be made for it being one of the first "shoegazing" tracks as well. The droning organ, buried and cherubic vocals, and finally the sheer wall of guitars that hits you at the track's end seem to predict the emergence of sonic atmospherics rather than funky beats. That bassline, which almost appears to be leading the melody in places rather than anchoring it, obviously owed a bigger debt to Peter Hook, however.

Given the relative success of the track at the time, it's slightly surprising that it's heard so infrequently now, and also that Pale Saints failed to really build on it. Subsequent singles - more on those when we get to them - are actually much more adventurous and interesting in my opinion, but the group's appeal never did become as large as their early promise seemed to indicate. "Sight Of You" really should be regarded as one small element in their career rather than their crowning glory, but it's possible that the group paid the price for arriving with a certain type of noise far too early.

Indie Top Video Take Two - Stone Roses, Lightning Seeds, Kitchens of Distinction, James, Bradford, Parachute Men, Fuzztones, Wolfgang Press

Year of Release: 1989

After the success of Indie Top Video Take One - which managed something none of the vinyl and CD editions of Indie Top 20 had delivered so far, which was to get into the official charts (or official national video charts, at least) - the arrival of "Take Two" was inevitable.

As with the preceding volume, though, it was a weird mix with lots of material which had never had any previous relationship with the "Indie Top 20" series. This time tracks which had recently appeared on "Volume 7" got the lion's share of space, but plenty of others were unrelated. This creates the same interesting situation as before, giving us a brace of non-canon tracks (or, more accurately, videos) which we might not otherwise get a chance to discuss.

"Take Two" would be the last VHS cassette to really go overboard on the bonus items. By the time of "Take Three" in a few months, a relatively normal service kicks in with each video focussing predominantly on tracks from the preceding Indie Top 20 album.

1. Stone Roses - She Bangs The Drums (Silvertone) - Bonus Video

This is a staggering opening song combined with a truly abysmal video. The original release of "She Bangs The Drums" was issued with a promotional film from the school of "Why did anyone ever bother when a still photo would have done the job just as well?". Around about this time, the jovial consumer affairs programme "That's Life" began stalking a Manchester film director who was accused of making dreadful promo films for local bands, but as The Stone Roses managed to produce this themselves, in the process creating something of an even lower quality, clearly there were worse options around. The promo features bleached out, blurry clips of the band arseing around the studio while slices of lemons occasionally appear on screen. It's actually just a few seconds of home video footage slowed down and plastered with vaguely arty effects. Anyone who pulled out the VHS tape from the player at this point, threw it across the room and returned to HMV to demand their money back could probably have been forgiven.

Still, never no mind, because as tracks go this is undoubtedly one of The Stone Roses' finest. What's interesting about "She Bangs The Drums" is that the indie scene had been predominantly filled with mournful, reflective minor key musings on life, love and everything for many years. It would be fair to counter that argument by mentioning that many of the indiepop tracks which burst on to the scene in 1986 had a jangly, celebratory edge to them, even if the lyrics weren't always sunny side up (The Housemartins "Happy Hour" would probably be the commercial zenith of this) but almost all of them sounded slightly uncertain in tone, and "She Bangs The Drums" is both euphoric and robust. This doesn't sound like a cheery, cheeky melody to get you through the day, it sounds invincible, fit to shield you from the worst things in life for months. It's about finding a soulmate so suitable and perfect, that the relationship feels like a halo encircling your whole life - and if you couldn't do that (and of course, I couldn't - I was a meek and defensive little 15 year old when this came out) then the song could act like a rubber ring around your waist, keeping you afloat. Or, to put it another way, "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now" this isn't. The first time I heard "She Bangs The Drums" I literally leapt for joy. I didn't know it, but I needed this in my life.

The guitar solo frequently backed football match highlights on the television, an unthinkable situation for an indie track a mere year or two before. While it's a simple and highly effective piece of work from Squire, the violent trucker's gear change of the key that follows it - unforgivable in most circumstances - actually works well, giving the song a powerful lift which feels almost impossible.

Of course, the central chorus, and in particular the line "There are no words to describe the way I feel" could have been cunningly striking a chord for numerous ecstacy users, but also harked back to the adrenalin soaked speediness of sixties mod culture articulated in The Who's "I Can't Explain". Not entirely inappropriate, as Pete Townshend had already tried to poach The Stone Roses drummer Reni when the group supported him at a gig in London.

In short, "She Bangs The Drums" is perfection, and stands up as well today as it did in 1989. It's become almost fashionable to deny that the band's first album is actually any good, but that's a ridiculous stance. It's a masterpiece, and this single is one of the highlights.



2. The Lightning Seeds - Pure (Ghetto) - Bonus Track

Way before Ian Broudie was mostly known for being the unofficial songwriter for the England World Cup Squad, his project (never really a proper band) The Lightning Seeds released chiming, reflective and shiny indie tunes which were actually brilliantly crafted. Purchased by both nerdy indie kids and their chunkier cousins who were more interested in having something nice to listen to in the car on the way to football practice, Broudie meshed the worlds of classic indie harmonies with eighties FM pop incredibly successfully.

The first LP, "Cloudcuckooland", emerged on the indie label Ghetto (unlike their other major label releases later) and "Pure" was the only hit single on it. This feels unjust. Besides "Pure", the LP contained "All I Want", later a minor solo hit for Susanna Hoffs of The Bangles, and "Joy", either of which would have been at least small Top 40 hits in a sane world. Given the fact that Broudie later enjoyed success with other singles of a similar calibre on major labels, it's tempting to blame the label, or their distribution, or both.

As for "Pure", Bill Drummond - who was once a member of Big In Japan with Broudie - accurately described it as a modernised "Windmills Of Your Mind". Backed with an effective but minimal parping trumpet riff, a whimsical backing occasionally worthy of Art Garfunkel, and Broudie's delicate vocals, it seems soft and overly fey on the surface, but later lines like "And now you're crying in your sleep/ I wish you'd never learned to weep" tell a different story. The line "feelings not reasons can make you decide" also feels uncertain to me - is this about the heart ruling the head and turning an otherwise orderly life upside down? At the time, Broudie wouldn't be drawn.

"Pure" was an easy top twenty hit, which from the moment it was Radio One playlisted sounded destined to be.



3. Inspiral Carpets - Joe (Cow)

(Already covered a few entries back if you follow the link, of course, but I just wanted to get another bitchy comment in about the low quality of music videos from Manchester groups at this point, and question why Beechwood and PMI felt so tempted to put these videos so high up the tracklisting. "Joe" is just more arsing about with camcorders so far as I can see).

4. The Men They Couldn't Hang - Rain, Steam Speed (Silvertone)

5. Wire - Eardrum Buzz (Mute)

6. Kitchens of Distinction - The Third Time We Opened The Capsule (One Little Indian) - Bonus Track

Tooting's Kitchens of Distinction never quite managed to climb beyond cult status. Emerging not long after the equally cultish The Chameleons had split, the two bands were completely unrelated in terms of personnel but sounded similar enough to raise eyebrows at the time.

"The Third Time We Opened The Capsule" isn't one of the group's strongest singles, but nails their sound very precisely to the mast. Effects-laden guitars swirl, Patrick Fitzgerald's vocals holler commandingly, and it's a giddy, disorientating affair which bears little relation to a lot of the other music being released at the time. In the long run, this would doom the group to a marginalised status, but they remain an invigorating band to return to.



7. The Man From Delmonte - My Love Is Like A Gift You Can't Return (Bop Cassettes)

8. James - Sit Down (Rough Trade) - Bonus Track

No, not that version of "Sit Down", which was one of the biggest selling singles of 1991. This original Rough Trade version of the track was a small, contemplative affair on one man's inability to fit in. While the hit version sounds like the supporters of Manchester United screaming from some coach windows while piling down a motorway, the original is Tim Booth lost in the corner of a scruffy bar, quietly considering his role in the world.

It's brilliant, in fact. The song itself manages to sound both frail and anthemic, with a constant push and pull between the gentle and doubtful vocals and ponderous piano lines and the confident, euphoric guitar playing. It's a song that wants to pull itself from despair and into daylight, and towards the end it even sounds like Booth is desperately trying to convince himself. In that halfway house state, it feels more human, more real, less barnstorming and militaristic. It's clearly the superior version of the song, which it makes it all the more stunning that it's presently unavailable to buy (and has been for many years).

The video, directed by Manchester artist, poet and eccentric Edward Barton, is simple and touching as well, featuring a ragbag of lost and lonely looking individuals and scruffy yet cheery dogs shuffling about a studio. Unusually, it wasn't screened on British television due to a Musician's Union ban caused by the drummer whacking a log with drumsticks, which broke some official rule about musicians miming on misleading instruments. That didn't seem to prevent the clip from being commercially released in this form, though, giving many people the first ever chance to see it in full.

Both James and Rough Trade were apparently disappointed when this single only managed to climb as high as number 77, but it wouldn't be long before the group were back on a major label and making a much bigger and more commercial racket.



9. Bradford - In Liverpool (Foundation) - Bonus Track

Perhaps aided by a boost in funds and production expertise by joining Stephen Street's Foundation label, "In Liverpool" is a much more fleshed out version of Bradford's early vision. Plucked orchestral strings join Ian Hodgson's powerful vocals to create a ballad to both a woman and a city that sounds majestic. It's still the usual mix of soul and faintly maudlin indie introspection which spiced all their other singles, and while it's not strong enough to be a key breakthrough single, it perhaps could have gained more recognition than it did at the time.

The video is simple, but presents two key things which date it immediately - an unmodernised Liverpool (they're really over-emphasising the derelict and abandoned aspects, actually) and a none-more-eighties female star with frizzy bleached blonde hair, a bright red dress and lipstick. It makes me feel sorely nostalgic, while at the same time questioning what exactly for. Episodes of "Watching", probably.



10. The Parachute Men - Leeds Station (Fire) - Bonus Track

"Leeds Station" became a legendary single in indie circles for one key reason in 1989 - Fire Records began a minor but rather daring skirmish with BBC Radio One over their refusal to put it on the daytime playlist. The central accusation seemed to be that the song was as strong as other guitar-pop records the station had playlisted over the preceding six months, and it was only being locked out of mainstream exposure due to the fact that it was on a minor record label.

After much to-ing and fro-ing, no headway was made, and "Leeds Station" remained unheard unless you were a nighttime listener to Wonderful Radio One. I'm now going to court controversy and suggest that this actually probably wasn't the harshest decision the station has ever made. When you consider that it was difficult to hear bands as mighty as The Stone Roses, James, and even Depeche Mode on daytime radio during the incredibly conservative late eighties, it seems a little rich to assume that "Leeds Station" cuts the mustard above all those. It's a catchy ditty to the band's hometown, but it's far from their strongest track, and has a chorus that seems to be trying a tad too hard to sound anthemic without reaching anything like the same heights as (for example) "Sit Down".

Nonetheless, it was an interesting battle, and it's not impossible that it did cause the station's controllers to briefly reflect on the fairly unvaried diet listeners were getting. During 1989, Radio One had already had potshots taken at them as a dated, aged station through The Reynolds Girls "I'd Rather Jack", and possibly didn't need to be shielding themselves from bullets in the indie sector as well. While I highly doubt "Leeds Station" hastened the arrival of the Matthew Bannister era, it's another piece of evidence that Radio One's time as Fab FM was beginning to look limited. All everyone had to do was keep the arguments going, and eventually cracks would appear.

Strange confession time - partly inspired by the "Leeds Station" war, I wrote a letter to the powers-that-be at Radio One asking them to put considerably more effort into their playlists, including a wider range of music. I did also suggest that perhaps they could introduce a phone poll programme where listeners could suggest their favourite current tracks and give an indication of what they wanted to hear most. Pure coincidence I'm sure, but not long afterwards such a show did launch on the station, albeit for a brief period.



11. The Fuzztones - Nine Months Later (Situation Two) - Bonus Track

The Fuzztones are a New York garage revival act, clearly among the many such bands "Indie Top 20" was having a very short-lived love affair with. When you stop to consider the fact that The Inspiral Carpets were beginning to make very serious headway with what sounded like psych-garage revival noises, and other such acts were generating serious IPC press, you have to wonder if some people were hedging their bets not on "Indie-Dance" but a full-blown fuzzed up R&B throwback sound.

Whatever the motivation behind including this, "Nine Months Later" has a fairly mean, almost Animals styled chorus and some neat spiralling guitar and organ work throughout, but is hardly the cream of the revival crop. It's a self-consciously swaggering single, really, and lead singer Rudi Protrudi pulls some very Colin-Gregson-out-Bad-News pouts and poses in the video as if to remind us of the fact.



12. Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Mercy Seat (Mute)

13. Wolfgang Press - Raintime (4AD) - Bonus Track

More mean, deep basslines, honking goose-like horns, rattling rhythms and rambling, beatnik vocals -"Raintime" is quite simply Wolfgang Press being themselves very effectively, without smudging or expanding on their existing template.

The group would continue into 1995 enjoying cult success in both the UK and USA, before accepting they had run their course and splintering in different directions.



14. The Sugarcubes - Regina (One Little Indian)

....and once again... this track actually features on the next volume of "Indie Top 20", volume 8. We'll deal with it when we get to that point.