A low-budget horror film from the 1960s, called 2,000
Maniacs is where 10,000 Maniacs took their name from. The original line-up
featured Robert Buck (guitar), Dennis Drew (keyboards), Steven Gustafson (bass),
Natalie Merchant (vocals) and John Lombardo (guitar). They emerged from the
small town of Jamestown, NY, making areas like Buffalo and Rochester, NY and
Cleveland, OH their strongest initial markets. At the beginning of 1983, Jerry
Augustyniak joined the band as their permanent drummer. The Maniacs met
Augustyniak when they played in Buffalo, New York, where he was in a punk band
called The Stains. Between March and July, the band recorded songs for a second
record, ‘’Secrets Of The I Ching’’ their debut full-length album, which was
pressed by Mark Records for the band's own label Christian Burial Music. The
record was well received by critics and caught the attention of respected BBC
Radio 1 DJ John Peel in London. One song, ‘’My Mother The War’’ remixed and released
on 12” in February 1984 turned out to be a minor hit in the United Kingdom and
entered the independent singles chart. The song is probably about the Vietnam
War as it talks about three year tours and how everyone was initially
supportive but it ended in grief and dismay for millions.
It’s not too difficult to understand why The Beloved try
hard (way too hard) to mimic their idols from Manchester. The group's role
models aren't difficult to guess; after all, they spend much of the time using
New Order's "Dreams Never End" as a blueprint. "A Hundred
Words," gives it away: a sinister bassline and icy vocals propel a cold,
mechanical beat. However, at least "A Hundred Words" has hooks; the band
suffers from the same problem that plagues most imitators of New Order and
their earlier incarnation, Joy Division; plenty of atmosphere but no memorable
songs. The Joy Division guitar drone and Jon Marsh's depressed singing can't
sustain interest for much longer than say, 3 minutes. It's was always easy to
compare the Beloved to other artists because their influences are so obvious.
Despite this "A Hundred Words" sports the kind of descending hook
that made Johnny Marr a god in the mid-eighties. As Smith-y and Cure-y as this
single is, it just radiates with indie-pop joy. Forget its debts and wallow in
all its cardigan-inspired glory.