Le Soleil, La Lune

Attention Chameleons Fans! Well, at least those who aren't already familiar with this. In the late 80's, the band broke up after numerous crises, including the death of Manager Tony Fletcher. But singer/songwriter/bassist Mark Burgess and drummer John Lever teamed up with two guitarists from Music for Aborigines, and charted a musical course proportional to the amount of personnel change from the Chameleons line-up. Well, almost. When you play The Sun & The Moon, you'll immediately recognize the Chameleons sound. The rhythm section and leader is still here, so that should be no great surprise, right? Well, the two new six-stringers, Andy Whittaker and Andy Clegg, neither totally ape Dave 'n' Reg (except on the arpeggio-type electric rhythm parts), nor try too hard to establish a new sound. Bravo for their intelligent compromise. They do, however, add a melodic piano to a few songs that nicely shifts the sound to some degree without making a big production out of it. The second track, "Death of Imagination," demonstrates this quite beautifully - but Mark is still pissed off. Most of Mark's lyrics deal with the depressing state of England at the time, but in a manner that lacks excessive specificity or political detail, which is one reason why this record ages so well. Has England ever enjoyed good times for the working class? What the heck are they basing their ideals on? But his lyrics are clearly even better (damn poets!) than those he penned for Chameleons records. And like Matt Johnson (The The) started doing around the same time, Mark began increasingly revealing personal (relationship) pain as a source of his discontent; as opposed to directives from 10 Downing Street or Buckingham Palace. The two Chameleons guitarists are missed, here, but only slightly. Hey, this isn't a Chameleons record, after all. This entire album is still pretty damn impressive. Ignore at your own risk. (What the hell does that mean?)

Peel Sessions

Many bands have claimed that their studio albums failed to accurately represent the power of their live performances, but their Peel sessions often got much closer. One could certainly make such an argument for the Chameleons. The John Peel Sessions recordings show the band covering much of the same ground as their first two albums, but leaning in the direction of a more "live" sound, with fewer overdubs and less complex effects. This is not to say these versions have no subtlety or depth; rather, the complicated guitar interplay is shown off all the more clearly when the two main interlocking parts of Reg Smithies and Dave Fielding are highlighted without many adornments. These takes manage an excellent middle ground between the rough, unsophisticated live albums and the ornately arranged studio albums, and to top it off, the audio quality is practically unmatched.

I've always found the John Peel Sessions to be a nearly essential part of the Chameleons canon, rising above most of the various live albums and outtake/demo compilations. I might prefer the band at their more ethereal and reverberant, but I think these versions tell a fascinating alternate history. The quality is superb and this collection is a generally more interesting listen than most of the actually live recordings.

Patrick's Music Reviews

What Does Anything Mean? Basically

Easily the high point of the Chameleons' fascination with digital delays, pedals, and making the studio an instrument, the band's second album still is seen by many a fan as being just a little too lost in the production to have the same impact as Script Of The Bridge did, despite equally excellent songs. The decision must ultimately be the listener's, but in the end the production argument is much more a quibble than a condemnation; no matter how you look at it, “What Does Anything Mean? Basically” proved to be that rarity of sophomore albums, something that at once made the band all the more unique in its sound while avoiding a repetition of earlier work. Ironically, the first track, "Silence, Sea and Sky," turned out to be the least Chameleons-like track ever, being only a two-minute synth intro piece played by Mark Burgess and Dave Fielding. But with the gentle intro to the absolutely wonderful "Perfumed Garden," lyrically one of Burgess' best nostalgic pieces, it rapidly becomes clear exactly which band is doing this. The empathetic fire that infused Burgess' words for songs like "Singing Rule Britannia (While the Walls Close In)," a poetic attack on the Thatcher government, finds itself matched as always by brilliant playing all around. John Lever's command of the drums continues to impress, and Fielding and Reg Smithies remain guitarists par excellence; the searing, sky-bound solo on "Return of the Roughnecks" alone is a treasure. The sublime combination of the rushing "Looking Inwardly" and the soaring, blasting rip "One Flesh," leading into a relaxed instrumental coda, anchors the second side, while "P.S. Goodbye" provides a lovely, melancholic conclusion to an astounding record.

The Chameleons - Nostalgia 12"

Following on from T’Sound it’s now time for a little Nostalgia from the mighty Chameleons, another great band that fell into the “Cult Status” bracket.

Scriptures of The Chameleons

With two years of incessant gigging and numerous radio sessions under their belts since their debut single, "In Shreds" The Chameleons came to the studio determined to make a great first album with Script Of The Bridge. To say that they succeeded would be like saying Shakespeare did pretty well with that one Hamlet play of his. Script Of the Bridge remains a high-water mark of what can generally be called post-punk, an hour's worth of one amazing song after another, practically a greatest-hits record on its own: from the John Lennon tribute "Here Today," through "Monkeyland," "Pleasure and Pain," "Paper Tigers," "As High as You Can Go," to the breath taking closer, "View From a Hill." Opening with the uncharacteristically optimistic anthem "Don't Fall," you might initially expect this album to be more grandiose and stadium ready. However, The Chameleons next opt to blindside you, the listener, with the introspective claustrophobia of "Here Today" beginning an album-length nosedive into the deepest recesses of the human soul and modern alienation. This is not an album for the faint of heart; it is very dark, it grabs you by the shoulders and slaps you around the face a few times before it's done with you. The most innovative aspect of this album would have to be the gorgeous guitar interplay of Dave Fielding and Reg Smithies, adding both immediacy and texture to the album's sound. The band's rhythm section aren’t slouches either; John Lever's drumming is superb, while Mark Burgess' bass lines weave through the songs like a venomous snake. Burgess here establishes himself as one of the great front men of his time. His lyrics are simply excellent, and have a timeless, highly literate quality in their poetic ruminations on the human experience.
Not only is this a towering achievement in the post-punk movement, deserving to be mentioned in the same breath as fellow Mancunian LP's "Closer" and "Real Life," it is arguably one of my favourite, and sadly, most overlooked, debut albums of all time.