Tag: Extended Play (page 2 of 3)

Holy Bloody Hell, It’s David Bowie

Enough said. The man is an alien. I’m talking the Station To Station release which for the sake of a technical obsession with record lengths I’m going to call an EP. I ask you: does it get any better than this? One word: “Wild Is the Wind”. Two words: “Station To Station”. Three words: “TVC15”. Oh did I mention those four magical words? “Golden Years”. Wha happened? So you’ve probably heard Chan Marshall’s version of the track originally made famous by the sadly-deceased Nina Simone, but I’m sorry to tell you Bowie has nailed “Wild Is the Wind” for all time. Bowie is the only man alive who can get away with singing “I hear the sound of mandolins”. Remember The Wonder Stuff? They played mandolins in their songs, and look what happened to them! REM? Now, that’s enough. Although, their Chronic Town EP is a masterpiece – five songs on that one, not a dud amongst them. Anyway, “WITW” is just about the most romantic song ever written, and I should know. Let Station To Station rip on your turntable some time soon, before the cobwebs eat into the vinyl. While I’m on the subject, there might be a couple of other Bowie releases that technically class as EPs, but don’t even get me started on the “mini-album”! According to some, U2’s “Live At Red Rocks” classes as an EP. What was it that the Screaming Jets said? “You know, and I know better.”

Glide

The sad story of Glide perfectly encapsulates the highs and lows of the early 1990s in Australian music. Glide, fronted by the extraordinary singer-songwriting talents of William Arthur, burst onto the Sydney scene in 1991, releasing two breathtaking EPs – Pretty Mouth in 1991 and the huge Shuffle Off To Buffalo in 1992 – to critical acclaim. A girl I had the hots for at the time gave me a tape with both EPs on it and I was soon a fan. Pretty Mouth was a very dark pop record, the lyrics (in my ears) alluding to childhood abuse and an accompanying innocent/ experienced vulnerability. “Dream of Sammy”, the EP’s poppiest moment, with its “should have been me/ could could have been/ could have been me” chorus, counter-balanced the melanchology in a powerful way. The other thing Glide had going for them, a factor which became immediately apparent on the second EP’s opening track, the simply astonishing “Waterfall”, was an intricatly crafted wall of sound that has also been described as a “wall of harmony”, a necessary counterpoint to the industrial, atonal wall of sound manufactured by British counterparts Ride. “Waterfall” was perhaps the best Australian single of 1992, and that’s saying something. How can I describe the song except to say that its sound was simply massive. The band’s lead guitarist at the time was also a phenomenal player, matching Arthur’s melodies with some impressive noodling on both releases. In hindsight, his departure from the band (and from my memory) was the first step in a long and slow descent from grace which culminated with William Arthur’s death in 1999. For a while though, Glide were on the top fo the freaking planet. I saw them wipe the floor with UK misery merchants Adorable in 1993 at the Phoenician in Sydney, playing so well and producing a sound so huge it just wasn’t fair. Perhaps Glide were just in the wrong place. Consider the fact that the “band” they supported produced just one LP and then died in the arse. Enough said. Fittingly enough, Glide’s first LP was a fairly melancholy affair, and was succeeded by several more well-crafted albums, all of which lacked the immediate spark and tention of the early EPs. I never did end up kissing the girl who gave me the tape way back in 1992. In fact, I’m not sure I can even remember her name. I do remember the spirit of that time, however, and the special talents of William Arthur. RIP, man, seriously. I think it was Rachael.

Verve, not “The” Verve—get it right!

Back in the early 1990s ‘The’ Verve were still called Verve, the Charlatans didn’t have a UK tacked onto the end of them and Suede still sucked the big one.

Pardon me for sounding monotonous but Verve were further proof that the old ‘the early EPs were great but the later work is like drinking paint stripper’ theory is a valid one. Until proven otherwise of course.

Verve started off as a freewheeling, psychedelic, dual guitar and dub influenced, sixties-sounding stoner epic outfit. Then they released ‘Bittersweet Symphony’, changed their name to The Verve and began hitting up the middle of the road (in no particular order).

Their first three releases, however, showcased a different band entirely. ‘All in the Mind’ was a banging single. ‘She’s a Superstar’ was also a single but because of its length (both it and b-side ‘Feel’ clock in at around 10 minutes) should really be considered an EP.

Verve released the 'She's a Superstar' single in 1992.
The cover of Verve’s ‘She’s a Superstar’ single, from 1992. Artwork by Brian Cannon/Microdot.

‘Gravity Grave’ was perhaps their weirdest single ever, a track that was also about 10 minutes long. It was included on the Verve EP, which also featured an extended mix of the song recorded live at Glastonbury.

The Verve EP also featured my favourite Verve track of all time: ‘A Man Called Sun’, a spacey odyssey featuring some excellent noodling from guitarist Nick McCabe, cavernous echoes and a drum beat so slow it was probably on smack.

Together these releases summed up a band that seemed to have no idea what was going on in the world around them. And they seemed perfectly fine with that.

Then, in 1993, they dropped A Storm in Heaven, a totally bodacious album’s worth of deep grooves and psychedelics.

Verve released the A Storm in Heaven LP in 1993.
The cover of Verve’s debut album, A Storm in Heaven (1993). Artwork by Brian Cannon/Microdot.

Truth be told, I am not sure the world was ready for Verve’s early work, which projected a worldview in which everyone was ‘high’, or ‘already there’, like, all the time.

The music itself was not so different to a lot of other bands but by 1994 it was sounding a little out of place. This is why I consider Verve to be one of the 10 greatest UK indie bands of the early 1990s.

It’s a real shame that ‘The’ Verve then went on to become such poseurs. Don’t even talk to me about the Richard Ashcroft solo experience.

But truthfully, I think the reason why I have such a soft spot for Verve’s early EPs is the fact that they remind me of the girl I was seeing at the time. She’d been to England and came home with a tape of Verve songs that proved excellent background music for smoking weed and pashing.

Unfortunately, part of the tape was erased by her previous boyfriend, who somehow pressed the wrong button on the car stereo one day, or so I’m told.

I can still hear the sound of car park noise, a kind of ‘Oh shit!’ exclamation, and then a return to the swirling, dreamy music. I don’t think she ever forgave him for that.

But who am I to talk? We also broke up, most likely due to some asshat behaviour on my part.

I’ve still got a dubbed copy of that cassette tape and managed to work the fact into the ending of a poem I recently wrote:

I made sure to dub your tape of early Verve
second-hand memories are all I deserve

‘Pixie’ (2004, unpublished)

Sniff.

Swervedriver: the good guys of early-1990s UK indie

As Crowded House said, “Now we’re getting somewhere”. Swervedriver were one of the greatest bands of the early 1990s. Full stop.

And you know what? Their early success, like that of Ride, hinged upon a series of phenomenal EPs: Son of Mustang Ford, Rave Down and the incendiary Sandblasted EP, all of whose title tracks would feature on their impressive space odyssey debut album Raise.

At the time Raise came out, I remember thinking that the album itself was a slight disappointment after the stunning ferocity of those three EPs (think speed metal fused with a Sonic Youth style melodicism).

Raise grew on me, however. Opening track ‘Sci-Flyer’, with its razor-sharp guitar lines and driving rhythm, set the tone for a sprawling album which crossed many stylistic boundaries and managed to capture what will forevermore be known as the Swervedriver sound.

Second album Mezcal Head was even more adventurous than its predecessor, including ‘Duel’, the completely bizarre ‘Last Train To Satansville’ and the jazz-metal fusion of ‘Never Lose That Feeling/Never Learn’: an extended 11-minute jam that closed out the US edition of the album, silencing the naysayers in that realm at least.

I kind of lost track after 1993 but for freak’s sake, the Swervies had already done their job, really.

The cover of Swervedriver’s sophomore LP, Mezcal Head (1993).

Despite their huge sound, and the inherent possibility that trying to rein it in might have caused problems for the band, Swervedriver (or should I say lead singer Adam Franklin) developed a reputation for quality songwriting as well.

The quintessential example was ‘Harry & Maggie’, which fused a pop sensibility with the traditional dual-guitar attack in a way that was seemingly beyond contemporaries Ride.

Remember ‘Twisterella?’ No? Enough said.

I also remember being impressed by the fact that unlike other bands at the time, the Swervies had no problem with naming other bands they liked and promoting the scene in general.

How many NME interviews at that time managed to slag off every other band around? Not Swervedriver, who came across as, well, a bit more mature. Or nice, anyway.

Finally, and this is perhaps the clincher, the band reportedly hung out with former Husker Du legend Bob Mould around the time of the release of Sugar’s extraordinary Beaster EP, and talked guitars.

Swervedriver were one band who took their guitars seriously. As a result, their discography is a testament to well-crafted, sonically adventurous rock/pop with a science fiction bent.

Leave them all behind? Too late, we already have.

Ripe—Cherry Ripe

Last night when I was thinking about who I would profile next in my exhaustive catalogue of early 1990s bands that have, sadly, disappeared, I became aware that I was perhaps being a little too shoegazer-centric.

Hence the inclusion of Ratcat whom, to be honest, I was never really that into at the time, except perhaps for ‘That Ain’t Bad’.

I guess I should also admit that in terms of Australian bands, my listening habits centered around Sydney bands, mostly because I lived there.

However, it’s one of the worst-kept secrets that Melbourne in the early 1990s was the place to be, especially if you were into indie bands excited and influenced by the new movements in UK and US indie pop.

I’m talking bands like The Earthmen, Rail, Ripe and The Fauves.

Ripe were a mystery band for me, a band I never saw, but whose influence on the Melbourne scene was palpable.

I heard them on Triple J in about 1991/92, upon the release of their Filterfeed LP (if anyone has a copy of this one, I’d sure love a tape of it) and their appearance on one of the Youngblood compilations—their track ‘Gaze’ was for me a standout.

Ripe evolved into a heavy sonic outfit, having started out as a sample-friendly band. Just listen to The Plastic Hassle, their second full length effort (released through Shock) and you’ll hear what I mean: big dirty guitars, thumping bass, drums with lots of cymbals.

Their music was very dark but also melodic, a bit like Straitjacket Fits I suppose, but perhaps closer in sound to The Fauves’ angular ‘science rock’ of The Scissors Within / Tight White Ballhugger twin EPs.

Lead singer Mark Murphy, who bears a passing resemblance to Pete Townsend, is an impressive songwriter with a real ear for the melancholy.

The Plastic Hassle was the definitive Ripe statement, a sprawling effort about fourteen songs long, standout tracks being ‘Something Fierce’, ‘Love Your Guts’ and the awesome ‘Moondriven’.

Funnily enough, Murphy and fellow Ripe member Kate Dixon now front a band called Moondriven whose sound is fairly similar to Ripe’s. The first week I was in Melbourne in 1998 I saw them play at the Punters.

In the last six years I think they’ve probably released about half a dozen songs, total. One of these, ‘Ghost’, is a real standout, though I’m not sure it’s on any of their releases.

As you can tell, I’m not really as excited about these guys as I should be, probably because they’re just so damned sporadic.

I remember in the early 1990s, however, there was a great deal of buzz surrounding Ripe and their temporary signing to SubPop.

Come 2004, however, and they’ve been relegated, just like The Earthmen, Rail, Autohaze, The Glory Box and Pray TV, to the dustbin of Melbourne’s musical history.

The next time you eat a Cherry Ripe, spare a thought for Ripe—actually, on second thoughts, scrap that.

Just eat the freaking Cherry Ripe, okay?