The Fall - Slates, Slags, etc

Originally released in a time when "neither an EP nor an LP" was different and not a marketing gimmick, 1981's “Slates” was issued as a 10", but its six tight songs didn't have that key track to make it as revered as other Fall releases of the time. "Leave the Capitol," "Middle Mass," and "Prole Art Threat" deserve their place in the Fall's hall of fame, but compared to the second, punchy and polished version of "Lie Dream," they sound a bit anaemic. Not a bad taster if you're new and want some post-punk, pre-pop Fall; 90 percent of this is prime material.

If you know someone who's never heard the Fall and you want to indicate how fucking great they can be, the sheer breadth and scope of them, then “Slates” would be the handshake moment. “Slates” is the one you'd have stuck on Voyager to let future civilisations understand just what the Fall were about. A concentrated/miniature/cameo. Also the first Fall release where each song/piece inhabits a different sound world, the point of escape velocity where Mark E Smith began to outgrow both the media preconceptions of his band and his own band mates (possibly even his own blind spots about what exactly the Fall could be or became).A misleading generalisation of course, but you can divide the Fall roughly into three stages: 78-83 marking territory and refusing to explain, 84-89 pop and fascinating for it; and thereafter (every Fall follower has their own dating system from here-on-in), settling/eroding into being... not anything as slight as merely, but simply the Fall, allowing for that the listener can pick the bones out and is at least slimly conversant with the language around these parts. The first stage though, they were - no lie - a great psychedelic band. If you have any love for them, the temptation is to nominate one of the bigger, more obvious statements (the substance-pagan of Dragnet or the dense quasi-envoi of Hex) but really, “Slates” is the one, if only because in conception, execution and effect, it's entirely sidereal. “Slates” is the Fall putting the foot on the brake, halting and looking around, beginning to rummage inward. Apparently, “Slates” was the music that made Brix fall for the Fall, the start of a process that would energise and popularise their unique vocab. It's a nice story, both romantic and convenient. I've no doubt that it's as true in benign retrospect as it was at the time of its happening. “Slates” is like that too; a true lie. Entirely right and cogent and sharpeyed, but also somehow yardstaring and distracted and deep. All the more worthy of congratulation for being a happy accident; chance encounters shared. Some folk meditate, and I've tried that too, and sometimes it's just what the mind needs; but sometimes I've taken those twenty-odd minutes and listened to “Slates” instead; the anti-meditation you sometimes require to face the world, a small journey, a distinct destination.

The Fall: The Complete Peel Sessions, 1978-2004

Expansive (and sadly complete) six-disc set collects 24 four-song Peel Sessions, featuring nearly every incarnation of Mark E. Smith's legendary band.

The most poignant aspect of this six-disc set is that it is now a document of the past, a finite thing that can no longer be built upon. When the Fall and their labels began work on the compilation, this was not the case; at that time, it was a document of a living, ongoing relationship between one of Britain's greatest bands and its most legendary DJ, John Peel. But Peel passed away in 2004, ending a seemingly effortless decades-long run as one of the coolest people on earth, and this six-disc document of his favourite band's appearances on his show instead serves as a sort of encomium. It's at once a tribute to the brilliance of Mark E. Smith and his "always different, always the same" band, and to the dedication of a man who never stopped being a fan and never stopped loving new and challenging music.

The Fall recorded 24 four-song sessions for Peel over the course of 26 years, capturing nearly every one of the band's many configurations in all their sloppy precision, and this sprawling, amazing release makes the case that every one of them had at least something interesting to offer, including the less-appreciated Fall line-ups of the mid-to-late-90s. The case could even be made that this is the definitive look at the Fall's career to date; even more than 2004’s very well-considered 50,000 Fall Fans Can't Be Wrong compilation. Of course, at six discs and more than seven hours, it's not the place to start, but anyone with more than four or five Fall albums would be doing themselves a huge service picking this up.

To touch on all of the highlights, I'd have to devote a full paragraph to each individual session included on the set, so let's just say that this thing is absolutely loaded, with performances that frequently eclipse the studio versions. The 1980 version of "New Face In Hell" is thunderous and Smith's cracking, hysterical vocal is hilariously psychotic; the band's oft-hidden sense of humour easy to spot. Smith actually laughs on "Beatle Bones 'n' Smokin' Stones", and the band's December 1994 piss-take on "Jingle Bell Rock" is a case study in sarcastic destruction.

Elsewhere, you get two 1983 sessions from the band's mighty double-drummer line-up and a generous offering from the unstoppable mid-80s line-up that produced This Nation's Saving Grace and the Wonderful & Frightening World of the Fall. The TNSG songs hit like a hammer to the head, with a borderline out-of-control take on "Spilt Victorian Child" and a crunching, hypnotic reinvention of "L.A." leading the way. As one might expect, the first three discs, which reach up through 1987, are the strongest and most consistent, with the last three discs veering through ever more rapid line-up shifts and wider stylistic ground.

What's shocking is the way those last three discs paint a picture of the band's late career as nearly as vital as what preceded it. Fiddler Kenny Brady brings a stronger melodic underpinning to the 1989 and 1991 recordings, without compromising the band's signature rough groove, while some of the band's more electronic 90s material comes off much rawer and crunchier in the live setting. "Immortality" in particular becomes fire-breathing, heavy death funk of a calibre the Fall only sporadically achieved in the studio during that phase of their career.

Dragnet

The Fall's second album was also one of the hardest to find in later years, getting only sporadic represses and reissues. Though some opinions would have it that there was a good reason for this; namely, that it was something of a dead end sonically; it's not as bad as all that. It's true that more than a few tracks come across as Fall-by-numbers (even then, already better than plenty of other bands), but there are some thorough standouts regardless. There's also another key reason to rate Dragnet; it's the debut album appearance of Craig Scanlon, who picked up on the off-kilter rockabilly-meets-art rock sensibilities of the initial line-up and translated it into amazing guitar work. No less important is the appearance of Steve Hanley, who would soon take over fully on bass from Marc Riley, who in turn moved to guitar, forming one heck of a partnership with Scanlon that would last until Riley jumped ship to form the Creepers. Generally the songs which work the best on Dragnet throw in some amusingly odd curves while still hanging together musically. The full winner is unquestionably "Spectre vs. Rector," an amazing combination of clear lead vocals and buried, heavily echoed music and further rants, before fully exploding halfway through while the rhythm obsessively grinds away. Another odd and wonderful cut is "Muzorewi's Daughter," which starts out sounding like stereotypical Hollywood music for Native American tribes before shifting between that and quicker choruses. "Dice Man", with its rave-up melody and slower vocal- and guitar-only chorus, not to mention the weird muttering elsewhere in the mix, says it all in fewer than two minutes and has fun while doing it. Through it all, Smith rants and raves supreme, spinning out putdowns, cracked vocals, and total bile with all the thrill and energy one could want from a good performer.