Tag: Extended Play (page 1 of 3)

Now here’s a blast from the past: the Undertones, “Derry’s finest” etc kicked some major label teenage butt in the late 70s, while Wire did the art rock collapse. 1978 saw the Undertones’ first EP, containing the just-not-so-subtly-alluded-to track, “Teenage Kicks”, a track that would see John Peel become their finest spokesperson. Fronted by the odd-looking Feargal Sharkey (yes, indeed, “a good heart these days *is* hard to find”), the Undertones released about four albums and a string of hits, none of which summed the band up better than “Teenage Kicks”, a cross between the Ramones and the Buzzcocks (the former in the straight ahead rock department, the latter in the lyrics’ endless obsession with “girls”). I have to admit a lot of the Undertones stuff does very little for me except inspire stomach aches. I can’t wear Ray Bans because they remind me of Feargal. When Feargal went Joe Cocker I was about thirteen, too young for punk to have meant anything to me. I’ll also admit that whatever “the critics” say, the Undertones were never punk. Despite the fact that on most of their tracks Feargal sounded like Jello Biafra (or was it the other way round?), there’s no two ways of reading songs like “Let’s Talk About Girls”, “Girls Don’t Like it”, “I Know a Girl” and so on and so on and such. On the liner notes to their best of, a band member claims they were onto something when they released “Smarter Than U” as a b-side – ie that they were somehow cool for using the letter “u”. They obviously weren’t listening to Wire at the time, whose “12XU” had been released the previous year (and which provides the ultimate retort – someone getting you down? 12XU). The Undertones’ saving grace was their break up: this left Feargal to wearing his white soul ray bans, while the O’Neill brothers formed That Petrol Emotion”, a band for whom the tag “incendiary” was obviously invented. Compare The Undertones’ last album with TPE’s debut Manic Pop Thrill and you’ll see what I mean. This stuff is pure mid-eighties punk, spiced up with some fairly serious references to Britain’s anti-terrorist legislation which was used at that time to imprison Irish political activists without trial. Songs like “Lifeblood”, “Lettuce” and the classic “It’s a Good Thing” proved that Feargal Sharkey was a two-bit poser in Ray Bans. Can you see what I’m feeling? He didn’t write any of the songs, I guess, which makes him less culpable. But the freaking sunnies. I ask you!

As mentioned previously, one definition of an EP is a record whose length is between 10 and 35 minutes. If this was the case (and I think we’re all pretty clear on where I stand re this definition), then Wire’s first three albums would all be considered EPs, despite the fact that each one contains at least 15 songs (their debut album clocks in at 35 minutes exactly – 21 songs). This astonishing trilogy (Pink Flag, Chairs Missing and 541) has traditionally been analysed in its entirety, and what an entirety it is. Listen to these albums today and you’d be forgiven for thinking they’ve just been released. 1977’s Pink Flag, with its massive opening track “Reuters”, was an incredible statement of intent, followed within a year by the equally delightful Chairs Missing, with the edgy and experimental nose bleeder 541 brining up the rear in 1979. If Wire had failed to release any more records (they have in fact, many more) then that would still have been okay. Holy wow. Each of the first three albums veered effortlessly between sharp-edged punk (“12XU”), art rock (“Outdoor Miner”), moody experimentalism (“A Mutual Friend”), erm, sharp-edged punk (“106 Beats That”), art rock (“Map Ref. 41?N 93?W”) and – you guessed it – moddy experimentalism (every other track). Not enough said. I’ve just got two words: Elastica. Remember “Connection”? Well that’s “Three Girl Rhumba”, ripped off. And now there’s an even more blatant cover version doing the rounds that’s saved from oblivion mostly because of the interesting video clip. Word for freaking word, line for freaking line. Wire are one of those bands who manage to influence everyone. My Bloody Valentine covered “Map Ref. 41?N 93?W” (can’t remember when) which is convenient for me. One song on “Chairs Missing” even prefigures Midnight Oil’s “Beds Are Burning”. Then again, one can never really isolate influences. I mean, that Elastica song’s synth riffs also sounded like “Funky Town”. Figure that out when you have time. Anyway, Wire are in Melbourne this weekend, I’m hoping I can afford to go. Wire, for me, is the coolest of the punk survivors, outshining the Buzzcocks, the Jam, the Clash, the Sex Pistols. They’ve released some absolute shockers (like, most of the 1980s albums, despite the slight reprieve provided by A Bell Is A Cup Until It Is Struck) but they’re hard-core. On a tour of the US they apparently hired a support band, called them the “Ex-Lion Tamers” after a song on Chairs Missing and then basically got them to play Pink Flag in its entirety every night of the tour as the opening act. You can’t get more arty than that. Oh, hang on: for a brief time in the 1990s, when one of the band members left, the remaining members changed the band’s name to “Wir”. Get it? Brilliant.

Don’t get me started about Tumbleweed. Theatre of Gnomes, their first major release, was a five track EP. Enough said. Ask anyone who’s from Wollongong if they’ve heard of Tumbleweed. Then ask them if they’ve heard Theatre of Gnomes. If the answer’s yes, you’ve just discovered a true ‘Weed fan. And of course it was great big dumb Ramones-style stoner rock but hey, Tumbleweed did it well. Stand-out track for me on this release would have to be the epic closer “Shakedown”, whose final few blasted minutes of instrumental chaos and tension represent the zenith of Wollongong music. A friend of mine once told me that a journalist had described the Gong as “the Athens of the South” – ie, a musical scene similar in size to that of Athens, Goergia. And who comes from Athens? That’s right, REM. And the B52s. And bugger all else. Wollongong’s a bit like that too. There’s Tumbleweed and that’s it. They were an incredible live act. I got kicked in the head at their 1993 Big Day Out performance at the Hordern Pavilion, and spent a not altogether unpleasant day wandering around slightly concussed. Apparently they’re all suffering the effects of industrial deafness now. Wollongong’s like that too. For all my cynicism though, the music scene in Wollongong did become, in the mid 1990s at least, quite healthy, thanks largely to the members of Tumbleweed themselves, particularly – help me here, the Curly brothers? were they both in the band? One of them started recording bands down at the Youth Centre anyway, and the number of visiting international bands increased dramatically around that time too. I saw Bikini Kill down there, in what used to be the Art Gallery. It was quite ferocious. Anyway, I still remember the day me and my sister were driving down Burelli Street and “Shakedown” came on the radio. It was her favourite track too. Unfortunately, just when the instrumental part began (ie just when it was getting to the good bit), the DJ faded it out. And thus did Tumbleweed fade also, from my memory, as well as Wollongong’s.