FEATURE: Anonymous Homogenous: Are Our Music Tastes Becoming Too Samey and Digitally-Led?

FEATURE:

 

 

Anonymous Homogenous

 PHOTO CREDIT: Dziubi Steenbergen/Pexels

Are Our Music Tastes Becoming Too Samey and Digitally-Led?

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I read an interesting feature…

 PHOTO CREDIT: John Tekeridis/Pexels

from The Guardian recently. It asks a question that has been posed through the years. That relates to whether modern music tastes are being directed by algorithms and streaming services. Whether we are all listening to the same music. It is clear that there is a big hegemony when it comes to Pop. There are a few artists that are dominating a lot of tastes and direction. Although Sabrina Carpenter, Charli XCX and a few others are grabbing a lot of the focus, it is Taylor Swift who dominates. I do wonder if we have ever seen a case of an artist getting so much attention and press coverage. It is great Swift is succeeding and doing something great, though it seems to be a symptom of modern tastes and how we are guided to music. If you look at streaming sites and are in the mood for discovery or something unusual, how accommodating are sites? I tend to find that I am caught in this loop of listening to the same stuff. Daily Mix playlists collate artists I have been listening to. It is divided in terms of genres and styles. Any suggestions that come up are really close to what I listen to. It is easy to get caught in this trap of relying on these suggestions and playlists. Stuck listening to the same music. Looking on the front pages and any suggestions and the same artists crop up. I guess you can turn off these algorithms and not have playlists suggested and built. It makes your music discovery more fluid and diverse. That is not to say that all we are listening to now is Pop or music from this generation. It does seem to be the case that even some of the same legacy artists are proving popular year-in-year-out. What is driving that? It is interesting to ponder:

“That may be true, but what if we looked at it from a different perspective? Think of those aerial shots of the festival site, which attempt to capture the sheer scale of 200,000 people descending on 600 hectares of land for the weekend. Then reinterpret them as a kind of heatmap of taste. There are more than 100 stages at Glastonbury, but certain areas heaved with bodies while others were notably sparse. More palpably than in previous years, there was a sense that everyone wanted to see the same thing. What if, guided by some invisible hand, we were all converging on the same likes and dislikes? What if taste was no longer a question of making finer and finer distinctions, but of being nudged towards uniformity?

Another example of vast numbers of people coalescing around a single musical point of reference comes in the form of Taylor Swift. Her global Eras tour, now completing its European leg in London, is already the highest-grossing of all time: she is expected to make $2bn from it, all told. Her concerts regularly break attendance records and have even been known to cause measurable seismic activity. For audiences in Seattle and in Edinburgh, the earth literally moved. It’s not like everyone on the planet listens to Taylor Swift, but those massive profits and the ground-shaking impact of her gigs suggest that there are an awful lot of us who do.

Her most recent album, The Tortured Poets Department, was streamed 1bn times on Spotify in its first week, adding yet another record to the teetering pile. Swift’s megastar status means she’s one of the few artists not reliant on playlists to direct passive listeners to her work, but these often machine-made selections still have a reinforcing effect. There’s no denying that the algorithms streaming and social media are built on have dramatically altered how we listen. Spotify launched 16 years ago and now claims to have 615 million users worldwide: in less than two decades, it has fundamentally changed the way we consume music.

Despite some heel-dragging, the musical establishment has been forced to adapt to its rhythms. In 2014, the Official Charts Company finally started taking account of streams in compiling its rundown of the biggest hits. But this has painted a strange portrait of contemporary taste. As well as five separate Taylor Swift entries, the top 20 bestselling albums of 2023 included the greatest hits of Fleetwood Mac, Eminem, Abba and Oasis. This is the taste of our parents or grandparents, reflected back at us. Streaming was supposed to do away with traditional gatekeepers, such as music journalists and radio DJs, and many speculated that genre would collapse completely. And it’s true that pop, rap and country have become surprisingly fluid and interchangeable. Yet, oddly enough, we’re seeing an increasingly samey musical landscape, in which taste has become trapped in a feedback loop of the algorithm’s making. “Spotify tells you what to listen to,” says Milo, the sharply ambitious student in Andrew O’Hagan’s latest novel, Caledonian Road. His advice? “Say no to algorithmically generated playlists”.

It is true that algorithms are creating an issue. Maybe we are relying less on radio and more traditional sources when it comes to music discovery. That is not to say that music sounds the same. There is variation and difference. It seems to be the case that, the more we rely on the digital, the more homogenised our music tastes become. The fact that, when it comes to the albums most bought, there is that singularity of Pop being represented. One artist getting so much of the market share. Questions could be asked in regards to the media circus and focus that has been put on Taylor Swift. Is the Pop market too singular and same-sounding to engage a wider audience? Are we living at a time when Pop and other genres are too simple and repetitive? In another article published  recently, Tom Breihan studied seventy years of past Pop. Even if songs now are shorter and less complex, that is not to say they lack depth. The modern Pop scene is fascinating:

“In a study published in July, researchers from London’s Queen Mary University algorithmically studied the melodies of decades’ worth of US Billboard chart hits, and came to the conclusion that the melodies driving those songs have grown less complex over the years. The researchers stress that this isn’t a qualitative judgment, and they’ve taken pains in the discussion to compensate for the popularity of rap music, a genre where melody can often be incidental. Still, the existence of this kind of study can serve to bolster certain bar-room conversations. If you’re convinced, for instance, that the music of your own youth is superior to whatever’s being made these days, then you can now cite a scientific paper to claim that today’s hits are just dumbed-down slop.

The earliest days of the Hot 100 coincided with the rise of rock’n’roll, when the new breed of stars competed with and sometimes sought to emulate an older generation of big-band crooners, and those guys prized a certain sophistication in vocal phrasing. The doo-wop groups of the late 50s and early 60s also built their melodic structures mostly out of vocals, so maybe that skews the graphs, too. Still, I don’t think a song like Elvis Presley’s Are You Lonesome Tonight? sounds any more melodically rich than, say, Taylor Swift’s Anti-Hero. Maybe I’m just not hearing the Midi files or looking at the notation.

But nobody looks at Midi files or notation when they’re processing pop music. It’s an in-the-moment art form, one much more dependent on technological rupture and societal context than pure melody. In recent years, for instance, the pop charts have become the dominion of online fan armies who attempt to manipulate chart figures to juice their favourites’ stats. In the US, pop consistently sits at the centre of conversations about sexuality, class and especially race – and those won’t show up on a chart of melodic notation.

This year, one of the big stories on the Billboard Hot 100 has been the preponderance of diss tracks, with Kendrick Lamar and Megan Thee Stallion reaching No 1 by taking explicit shots at their rivals. Another has been the ongoing conversation between country music and hip-hop, as Beyoncé, Shaboozey, and the duo of Post Malone and Morgan Wallen have landed huge hits that fall somewhere in the Venn diagram of two genres that play vastly different roles in US life. Maybe those songs have simple melodies, but that doesn’t mean the songs play simple roles. Pop music is more than melody. Maybe you can’t see it if you’re looking at sheet music, but the pop landscape is as fraught and fascinating as it’s ever been”.

Although many of us go deeper than streaming-led suggestions and away from the modern charts – which still seem to be skewed towards certain artists and do not give a full picture of modern music’s diversity and eclectic nature -, there is this danger many of us face. Listening to the same music. Either getting caught sticking with music we are familiar and comfortable with, or being directed by modern charts, vinyl sales, megastars in the media. In an effort to obtain the same sort of acclaim and traction as modern superstars, are artists consciously releasing music that sounds similar to an artist like Taylor Swift so that they can get included In Spotify playlists?! That homogenisation occurs. I am not sure we are quite there yet, though that first article I quoted raises some interesting points. It is worrying that vinyl sales seem to have one or two modern artists dominating and then a selection of familiar older artists. Maybe people exploring more of the past and classic artists because they feel the modern scene lacks real appeal. A rebellion against the fact modern algorithms do direct us to the same artists. I don’t know. I have noticed I listen to the same music and tend not to break out of bad habits. Listening to certain stations and genres like Pop, it can be very repetitive. So many modern artists consciously sounding the same because that is what is deemed commercial or popular. Other genres and types of music not been played as much. Perhaps streaming does dictate what we hear and creates this false impression of modern music. A very samey playlist. Once was the time when our peers and friends helped shape our music tastes. Our parents too. Now, technology has a much bigger role.

PHOTO CREDIT: Bryan Catota/Pexels

There are music apps that can actually help broaden our music tastes and rewire habits. In terms of getting caught in this loop of listening to the same thing. This feature from Steve Kupferman of The Globe and Mail, provided a different perspective on technology and it can be beneficial when it comes to music discovery. How some apps can open your mind up to discover artists that might not have otherwise have been on your radar:

“I found that I was still developing fixations on particular artists, but now they were brief. At one point I spent a few weeks listening to a Chicago-based group called Finom, whose most recent work I can only describe as sounding as though it is written and performed by sexy androids with music-theory PhDs. The app guided me to an artist called Jim Sullivan, a spaced-out wannabe cowboy singer who cut two very good albums before literally disappearing off the face of the Earth in 1975. (He was last seen in a remote part of New Mexico.)

How we – by which I mean the app and I – got here from Elliott Smith is a mystery to me. The app’s makers say its algorithm weighs a number of different factors, including how frequently users group particular songs together on playlists they create. The app also automatically analyzes songs for qualities such as “danceability,” “energy” and “instrumentalness.”

But to me the process did not feel as though it was being directed by software. My mind felt like it was spreading feelers at random and sending up shoots.

And this is precisely what is so pernicious, and so wonderful, about the algorithm. I have a whole new musical sensibility now that feels as though it came from within, but that actually was imposed, at least partly, from outside. The precise ratio of algorithmic conditioning versus personal free will at play here is at best a trade secret, and at worst completely unknowable – a matter of philosophical debate.

Rewiring a person’s musical preferences was once seen as a social act, or even an act of love. It was something that used to be done by radio DJs, or cool older siblings, or mixtapes compiled by dorky guys trying to express mind-enveloping romantic obsession to their crushes without freaking them out.

Nobody gave any thought to what it might mean for us, as a society, to automate this process. For all we can tell at this point it could be the end of music as we know it. We could be entering a world where music is no longer a marker of identity, but rather a product of it – a world where songs are no longer recommended algorithmically, but are actually written algorithmically, to tickle the pleasure centres of each individual listener.

But that’s not where we are today. For now, even though I feel as though my mind may have been colonized by Big Tech, I also feel … great? Discovering new music after my long period of incuriosity had effects I couldn’t anticipate and can’t quantify.

I think my emotional aperture has expanded, ever so slightly. Listening to music on public transit or while walking through the city, which I had not done for years, is a cheap and effortless source of joy. For the first time in my marriage I can play music for my wife that isn’t “too depressing.” I went to a concert, after a decade of mostly avoiding them, and saw a crowd of a few hundred people who all have at least one thing in common with me.

And my relationship with music is no longer a source of weird, neurotic shame. In a small but important way, I feel like I’ve been transformed for the better. Everything else had changed; this was the last thing that hadn’t.

There are so many ways big online platforms have damaged the world. Even the streaming app is notorious for leveraging its market dominance to underpay musicians.

But as bleak as the future of automation sometimes looks, dealing with the music app has made me wonder if there’s still hope that these new systems will find ways to integrate with human minds that aren’t exploitative – that promote grace and humanity, rather than the opposite. I now think it’s possible, though I wouldn’t say it’s likely”.

Whilst I do think modern Pop is not overly-simple and samey, I do think that a lot of artists are falling into something narrow. A lot of artists possibly reacting to what is recommended on streaming services and making music geared to that. There is this danger with algorithms all providing the same suggestions. If we rely on technology alone, then there is this worry then our music tastes will start to merge and be the same. Some apps are a bit different, yet many people (me included) are not broadening our listening tastes as much as we should. I think that radio plays an important role. Getting suggestions and new music from there. We can also discover older artists that we may not have considered. Discovering music websites that give suggestions about new acts. Looking to traditional media and outlets rather than being directed by and dictated to by streaming and digital. We can’t and shouldn’t discard streaming sites and apps. However, there is something to be said about their influence when it comes to our music tastes. Maybe not set up to explore the full depth and breadth of modern music. A colourful and expanding landscape is not fully being covered. That is worrying. Modern Pop being focused very much on a select few artists. It can easily create this homogenisation. That is something that we need to get out of. Whilst those who love music will be curious and go out of their way to broaden their tastes, technology should react to that. Lead us to interesting discoveries. Ensuring that they do not have the same artists in their algorithms. It is not only music where algorithms do have a huge role. T.V. and film. We do need to explore this in more depth as the way music is recommended to us on streaming sites is…

PHOTO CREDIT: cottonbro studio/Pexels

A troubling trend.

FEATURE: The Digital Mixtape: Underrated or Under-Loved Songs from the 1990s

FEATURE:

 

 

The Digital Mixtape

PHOTO CREDIT: Nadin Sh/Pexels

Underrated or Under-Loved Songs from the 1990s

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THERE is a lot of talk around…

 PHOTO CREDIT: Dmitry Demidov/Pexels

the 1990s at the moment, as some legendary albums from the decade are celebrating anniversaries. A few have reached their thirtieth anniversary. Portishead’s Dummy, Jeff Buckley’s Grace and Oasis’ Definitely Maybe. There are more 1990s anniversaries coming soon. Big occasions for some classic albums. We talk about the best songs from the decades. Lists dedicated to the soundtrack of the 1990s. We do not as often spare a thought for overlooked songs from the decade. Some that are perhaps maligned by critics or under-loved. It can be a subjective thing, though there are songs that get a bad reputation or are seen as grating or novelty by the press. They may have massive streaming or viewing figures, yet they are not as embraced as they should be. Songs that simply have never gained the same respect as the huge and obvious songs from the 1990s. Again, these may be quite popular in their own way, though we never really see them often appear in the best songs of the 1990s lists. Some might disagree. Others might have their own selections. I wanted to represent these tracks here. Below is a playlist containing some gems from the 1990s either underrated or that have not been wholly embraced by the critics – but they should have been! Even if you were not around in the 1990s, these awesome cuts from the decade should…

PHOTO CREDIT: Andrea Piacquadio/Pexels

TICKLE your fancy.

FEATURE: Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love at Thirty-Nine: The Ninth Wave: The Unseen and the Unknown

FEATURE:

 

 

Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love at Thirty-Nine

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush during The Ninth Wave photo session/PHOTO CREDIT: John Carder Bush

The Ninth Wave: The Unseen and the Unknown

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I am looking ahead…

to 16th September and the thirty-ninth anniversary of Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love. It is worth getting to some background about the album before coming to its incredible suite, The Ninth Wave. There was this period of recovery and rest following The Dreaming. That album came out in 1982. Clearly, Bush was exhausted and needed to stop. Her father, a doctor, diagnosed nervous exhaustion and prescribed bedrest. If she had ploughed on and worked to the same extent she did through The Dreaming, it could have meant an early end to her career. It was a crucial moment where she had to heed advice. She did. Spending time with family and friend, 1983 especially was a fruitful period of rare relaxation. She bought a VW Golf and drover herself around. She went to films and spent time at home. Together with her boyfriend Del Palmer (who was in her band and engineer), Bush hung out and enjoyed downtime. She listened to music (mainly Classical) and went for walks. Gardening came into her life and provided this calm and focus. Buying fresh fruit and vegetables, she prepared one good and healthy meal a day. Instead of the takeaways and unhealthy life she had before – I can picture late night recording, smoking a lot, lousy T.V. shows, very little sleep, together with a lot of stressful and tense moments -, this was a new chapter. I am engrossed in Graeme Thomson’s Under the Ivy: The Life and Music of Kate Bush and what he writes on this period. How there was a lot of press speculation around Bush ‘disappearing’. That she had a drug habit or was vastly overweight. I have written on this before, though it is worth reiterating. How she was viewed and pictured by the press, compared to the actual reality. This very busy and hardworking human was not an addict or majorly depressed. Instead, she was being a normal human and not out and about at parties and being in the public eye!

Kate Bush and Del Palmer moved into the Kent countryside in a seventeenth-century farmhouse that was close to the family home of East Wickham Farm. Bush, taking dance back up and in a healthier space, was living in this very romantic and idyllic house. There was a sense of darkness and doom from 1981 and 1982. Days and days of recording The Dreaming. A period which took a toll. I mention all this because, to over-analyse or over-simply, that trajectory from 1981 to 1983 sort of is mirrored through The Ninth Wave. That initial stress and fear that ends with relief and sanctuary. Whereas some of the tenser, anxious and frightening moments of The Dreaming reflected a very present and personal significance, I do think there was more in the way of fiction and detachment with the fears of Hounds of Love. One could say that the title track is Bush exposing her fear, cowardice and worries about love and herself. I  always think the song has positivity and strength. The same goes with nearly everything on the first side of the album. Much more in the way of the positive and optimistic mindset she would have found from 1983 onwards. How much of The Ninth Wave is genuine fear coming to the surface? I think that that idea of a woman being lost at sea and at the mercy of what is underneath was a genuine one. Kate Bush has said she imagined nothing more frightening. Some could say that this, psychologically, was Bush feeling vulnerable about her career and security. Metaphors for the industry and the capricious nature of her career. How she was maybe adrift and could be lost at any moment. It is a whole different thread to examine. I think there is much more in the way of fiction and fantasy than any hangovers from The Dreaming.

That said, one could say that there was lingering depression or anxiety from that time. If there was, it was channelled in a very ambitious and positive way. Perhaps her greatest achievement is that song-cycle from the second side of Hounds of Love. It is a masterpiece. If you want to analyse things, you could see this as a nod to Kate Bush’s life for the previous couple or few years. The fatigue and being lost. That need to stay awake and alive. Family and friends waiting for this woman who might never return to them. The sense of a spirit watching over them and, finally, rescue and a return to land – though the woman who returns is a shadow of her former self. Each song could very much be attached to a particular career moment or time in her recent life. I think there is more warmth and different sound on The Ninth Wave. If percussion and a heavy and grittier sound was used in The Dreaming and the Fairlight CMI was very much used to project a lot of dirt, smoke, guttural and grime at times, I feel there are different emotions and textures on The Ninth Wave. Beautiful and tender moments then sweeping and grand symphonies almost. Heady and intoxicating sound collages and spirited, rousing songs. Think about the joy and energy of Jig of Life. The simplicity and heartbreak through And Dream of Sheep. The atmospheric and affecting The Morning Fog. The choral and huge Hello Earth. I think this work was from the mind of someone happy and content enough to think in a more abstract way. Perhaps putting less of her own emotions and strains through machinery. Of course, there as some of that, though her mind and body was healthier. Awake and alive to opening up her palette and imagination, there is this mystery and sense of the unknown about The Ninth Wave.

There is so much to uncover and explore when it comes to The Ninth Wave. Think about a real lack of podcasts or documentaries about it. There has been a literary adaptation of the suite, though very little in the way of articles and new examinations. Maybe there will be more of it next year for Hounds of Love’s fortieth anniversary. Apart from the relatively overlooked Mother Stands for Comfort on the first side of Hounds of Love, every other track has got quite a bit of write-up and focus. Maybe The Big Sky should have more. I think that The Ninth Wave has this mystique. We do not really know much about it beyond the interviews Kate Bush has given where she has discussed it. Nearly thirty-nine years after the world first heard The Ninth Wave, there are questions and gaps. One of the most obvious things to note is how none of the songs on that second side were released as singles. The only video representation of any of the songs is when Kate Bush filmed And Dream of Sheep for 2014’s Before the Dawn. The only time where she performed The Ninth Wave in its entirety. Across twenty-two dates, it was an undertaking pulling it off every night! We have no filmed documentation of those performances. There is the live album audio. So, really, the only people who sort of know what Kate Bush had in her imagination are those who were in Hammersmith ten years ago. I have pitched how there should be a filmed version of The Ninth Wave. Something Kate Bush was keen to do once Hounds of Love was released. It just never came together. As someone desperate to see The Ninth Wave in all its glory, you wonder if it will ever come to pass. I guess that everyone who hears the suite has their own interpretation and vision.

Whether you think the woman does get rescued – Bush said she did in interviews around the album and years after, but those who were at Before the Dawn think she never made it out alive - or not, one cannot deny how eclectic and extraordinary The Ninth Wave is. Many talk about the singles from Hounds of Love. I don’t think The Ninth Wave gets enough attention. With few videos or much audio dedicated to this collection of songs, there is that need and desire for more. The Ninth Wave was part inspired by Idylls of the King: The Coming of Arthur by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. Also, by Aivazovsky's iconic 1850 painting, The Ninth Wave. This great article goes more into that. Once more, Bush influenced by literature and art. With that mix of personal and fictional in the main character and the story arc, The Ninth Wave is truly fascinating and mysterious! Everyone will have their own interpretations and theories of what happens and how things end. The Kate Bush Encyclopedia have transcribed part of a 1992 interview where Bush talks about this incredible suite:

“The Ninth Wave was a film, that’s how I thought of it. It’s the idea of this person being in the water, how they’ve got there, we don’t know. But the idea is that they’ve been on a ship and they’ve been washed over the side so they’re alone in this water. And I find that horrific imagery, the thought of being completely alone in all this water. And they’ve got a life jacket with a little light so that if anyone should be traveling at night they’ll see the light and know they’re there. And they’re absolutely terrified, and they’re completely alone at the mercy of their imagination, which again I personally find such a terrifying thing, the power of ones own imagination being let loose on something like that. And the idea that they’ve got it in their head that they mustn’t fall asleep, because if you fall asleep when you’re in the water, I’ve heard that you roll over and so you drown, so they’re trying to keep themselves awake.

Richard Skinner, ‘Classic Albums interview: Hounds Of Love’. BBC Radio 1, 26 January 1992”.

There have been fan theories and messages about The Ninth Wave. Not a lot in the way of column inches or minutes of audio. I hope The Ninth Wave is given more love and light by next year. I am going to end with this article from 2021. An examination and nod to wonderful and rich musical storytelling. Even if there is no beginning and end – where we see how the woman got into the ocean and we never know what happened when she got back to land -, it is that period where we are with her at sea that is so evocative and tense. Never really knowing which direction things would go and if she would be safe. Never knowing for sure how things worked out:

“So in which direction did Kate Bush take her ocean story? Well, many. The tracks do play out like the film which was in Kate’s imagination, beginning with the wonderfully lonely “And Dream of Sheep,” in which the narrator floats alone in their life jacket, drifting in and out of consciousness. As the character falls into the “warmth” of a hallucinatory state, the scene is set for Kate to experiment with their mental state and the dreams they experience.

Beginning with “Under Ice,” the music becomes much darker and more intense. The lyrics of the track give a warped impression of the cold and hypothermia that the narrator is likely experiencing. We transition to the sudden direction to “wake up,” the theme of the track “Waking the Witch” (my personal favourite,) where things start to get more chaotic, the calm voices of the introduction being replaced by broken, fragmented jitters of speech — “Help me, listen to me, listen to me, tell them baby!”

IN THIS IMAGE: Ivan Aivazovsky The Ninth Wave

With the most intense section of the suite over, Kate continues her experimentation into mental states, where in “Watching You Without Me” she describes an out of body experience — as a ghost in her own home, watching her loved ones worry. A third hallucination appears with “Jig of Life,” and we are suddenly enveloped in the sounds of Irish folk music — violin, fiddle, pipes, and drums. Confronted by her future self, the narrator is persuaded to fight for their life — the relentless, powerful instrumental driving the story forward.

The final tracks of the suite lead to and take us through the serenity and relief of the narrator’s ambiguous rescue. “Hello Earth” is Kate floating away further and further from the life she knows. We hear samples of NASA communications, conveying the feeling of being so far from human contact.

The iconic “The Morning Fog” is the final track of the album, in which Kate is rescued. The joyful tone highlights the journey we have been through, loss, mental states, hope, and finally the serene, joyous feeling of being safe. Kate stated in interviews that the suite was always intended to end in rescue, but it could be argued that “The Morning Fog” is instead the narrator succumbing to the water, experiencing the final moments of life”.

On 16th September, it is the thirty-ninth anniversary of Hounds of Love. I know that there will be talk of the album and iconic singles like Hound of Love and Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God). I still feel that The Ninth Wave has been left aside. Google results for it and there is not a lot in the way of videos, articles or anything recent. You do feel there is so much to navigate and explore. Go deep with the songwriting, the sounds, the psychological and the imagery. The fact a relatively small number of people have and will ever see the only visual representation we have of The Ninth Wave. The way Bush talked about the suite in 1985 or 1992. How she altered that when mounting it for Before the Dawn. So much to discuss. Maybe we will next year. Such an accomplished cycle of songs. Almost like a Classical symphony! Something with moving parts and this narrative that takes us through a dark and tense night. The different moments, moods and emotions that switch between songs. Rooting for this woman on her own at sea. The salvation and possible safety of the final song. Kate Bush’s stunning production vision and talent present in every note and line. It is her masterpiece! I think it subsumes and overpowers the rest of the album. Rather than Hounds of Love being defined by its singles, its true heart and core is The Ninth Wave. People should cover the songs. We need to remix the tracks. Separate them and rank them. Dissect each one and do more. Or maybe a relative sense of mystery is what makes it so intriguing and powerful. This piece of work swims in the imagination, gets inside the heart and…

OVERWHELMS the senses.

FEATURE: Groovelines: The Sugarhill Gang – Rapper’s Delight

FEATURE:

 

 

Groovelines

IN THIS PHOTO: From left: Henry ‘Big Bank’ Jackson, Guy ‘Master Gee’ O’Brian, and Michael ‘Wonder Mike’ Wright, New York, 1980/PHOTO CREDIT: Anthony Barboza/Getty Images

The Sugarhill Gang – Rapper’s Delight

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ONE of the most important…

songs in Hip-Hop history turns forty-five soon. On 16th September, 1979, The Sugarhill Gang’s Rapper’s Delight was released. The debut single from the trio, it was produced by Sylvia Robinson. This mammoth song is credited with introducing Hip-Hop to a wide audience and the world at large. A bigger success in the U.K. than it was in the U.S., the New Jersey trio changed music. Referencing and interpolating Chic's Good Times, it did create some legal issues when The Sugarhill Gang were almost sued by Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards. Because this iconic song is forty-five soon, I am bringing in a few features. This NPR feature from 2000 takes us inside this one-take hit. A song that is among the most influential of all time:

"Rapper's Delight" is built on the rhythm of an earlier cultural phenomenon: disco. The groove was taken from the tune "Good Times" by Chic. The song was such a big dance hit that a small New Jersey label thought it might be able to capitalize on its popularity. All Platinum Records was co-founded by Sylvia Robinson, who'd had a few hits of her own — "Pillow Talk" and "Love Is Strange" — as part of the duo Mickey & Sylvia. But by 1979, her label was facing bankruptcy.

Robinson's son Joey says she saw a way out of Chapter 11 one night at a Harlem club.

"She saw where a DJ was talking and the crowd was responding to what he was saying, and this was the first time that she ever saw this before," Joey Robinson says. "And she said, 'Joey, wouldn't this be a great idea to make a rap record?' "

The story goes that Big Bank Hank, Wonder Mike and Master Gee met Sylvia Robinson on a Friday and recorded "Rapper's Delight" the following Monday in just one take.

The "Rapper's Delight" 12-inch was released in September 1979. It was 15 minutes long, and yet black radio started playing it — so much so that Sugarhill Gang recorded a seven-minute version for pop stations and introduced the black neighborhood sound of the 1970s to white listeners.

Harry Allen, from The Village Voice and Vibe magazine, says that, until then, rap had been for young black males with few opportunities. It gave them a way of making their voices heard.

"So what hip-hop fashioned," he says, "was a conduit whereby people who normally are locked out of telling get to tell."

But perhaps the reason "Rapper's Delight" crossed over was that it was anything but political.

"It wasn't too heavy," Wonder Mike says. "It wasn't the message that was years later. It wasn't 'bash the police' — that was years after that. What I wanted to portray was three guys having fun. We were always bragging about stuff we didn't have to impress the chicks."

Like a lot of hip-hop culture, "Rapper's Delight" created its share of controversy — starting with the fact that its playful groove did not reflect the urban anger of other rap at the time. The Sugarhill Gang was also criticized because two of its members were from New Jersey. And none of them had ever been a DJ or an MC.

"DJ AJ, Grandmaster Flash, Afrika Bambaataa, Kool Herc — all of these guys were local DJs who would do local shows here in New York," Bronx rapper Kurtis Blow says. "So when the Sugarhill Gang made it, the guys who had been doing this thing sort of felt like they were being ripped off — or, you know, 'These guys are not a part of the Bronx, and they didn't struggle to bring hip-hop to this point to 1979.' And so there was a lot of animosity toward the Sugarhill Gang in the beginning."

Despite some additional controversy surrounding who wrote the rhymes, "Rapper's Delight" is an important record. Kurtis Blow said it jump-started the careers of several Bronx rappers, including himself.

"When it came out, nothing was the same afterwards," writer Harry Allen says. "It made everything else possible. I was speaking to my good friend Chuck D, of Public Enemy, and when he first heard that there were going to be rap records, his thing was, 'How are you going to put three hours on a record?' Because that's the way MCs used to rhyme. They'd just rhyme and rhyme and rhyme for hours”.

Taking things forward to 2017, The Guardian spoke with ‘Master Gee’ and ‘Master Mike’ about making this classic. A song whose true impact and influence is almost impossible to define. Forty-five years after its release, we are still feeling and seeing the influence and power of this track. Rapper’s Delight is a track that can never be dated. It sounds so fresh and original, we will be listening to it for decades to come:

“Guy ‘Master Gee’ O’Brien, songwriter-rapper

When I was in 10th grade in New Jersey, I went to a party and heard someone talking rhythmically through a mic. “That’s rapping,” he said. “That’s what they’re doing in New York.” I had started DJ-ing to make some money and added rapping to my repertoire.

At this point, it was something we did at parties. Nobody thought of it as commercial. Then Sylvia Robinson, founder of the hip-hop label Sugar Hill, decided to make a record, and looked for talent in New Jersey, where she was living. Big Bank Hank rapped and made pizzas, so she auditioned him in front of the pizza parlour. I rapped in her car, then Wonder Mike was next. “I can’t choose,” she said. “So I’ll put you all together.”

Chic’s Good Times was great to rap to. The tempo was right and the bassline was high. That became the basis of Rapper’s Delight. The intro came from Here Comes That Sound Again by a British group named Love De-Luxe. There were no samplers at the time, so the backing track was laid down by Sugar Hill signees Positive Force, who played the Chic rhythm, which we rapped over. I was unknown, but figured if I rapped about “foxy ladies and pretty girls” it would get me more attention. It worked. My line about being the “baddest rapper” was wishful thinking, though.

Chic’s Nile Rodgers wasn’t happy, but he now says Rapper’s Delight is one of his favourite tracks. It is one of his most lucrative – we gave him a credit. Then it turned out that Hank’s rhymes had been written by another MC, Grandmaster Caz. We’ve given him credit in public and done shows with him, and he’s cool about it. But I’m sure it bothers him every time he hears it.

I thought we’d made the first rap record. Then I was at a party and heard the Fatback Band’s King Tim III, which featured rapping with singing. I thought someone had beat us to the punch. But they’d made it a B-side. Ours became a smash.

Michael ‘Wonder Mike’ Wright, songwriter-rapper

At parties, guys would pass mics around for hours, so rapping for 20 minutes in a studio seemed like nothing. When we made the record we kept coming up with clever things and the producers never stopped us. The finished recording was 19 minutes long, all the rap done in one take, but we cut it to 15, making the intro shorter and cutting out some party noise.

My rap was part planned, part spontaneous. I wanted the start to be powerful and was inspired by that old sci-fi show The Outer Limits, which began: “There is nothing wrong with your television set. Do not attempt to adjust the picture.” So my introduction went: “Now what you hear is not a test, I’m rappin’ to the beat.” And, because I wanted to appeal everyone, I said: “I’d like to say hello to the black, to the white, the red and the brown.”

One line was a spoken drum roll: 'To the bang-bang boogie, say up jump the boogie to the rhythm of the boogie, the beat'

No one has ever been able to ascertain whether Lovebug Starski or the Furious Five’s Keith “Cowboy” Wiggins came up with the term hip-hop, but I’d heard the phrase through my cousin and just started going: “Hip-hop, hippie to the hippie, to the hip-hip-hop and you don’t stop.” The part where I go, “To the bang-bang boogie, say up jump the boogie to the rhythm of the boogie, the beat” is basically a spoken drum roll. I liked the percussive sound of the letter B.

When I was seven, I saw the Beatles’ film, A Hard Day’s Night, with all the screaming girls. When Rapper’s Delight hit, there was a lot of hysteria. We were in a record shop and the manager had to ferry us out through the back. I remember thinking: “Man, this is just like A Hard Day’s Night”.

I am going to end with a 2023 article from SPIN. Taking things more up to date, this is a new perspective from ‘Wonder Mike’. So interesting reading how Rapper’s Delight came together. On 16th September, we mark forty-five years since the release of a seminal record. It is not too grand to say that it changed the course of music history. I discovered the song when I was young and was fascinated from that first listen. A unique and timeless track:

“Rags to Riches…Literally

I was between residences when we recorded that song and when I auditioned. Miss Robinson didn’t know who to pick. She originally wanted one rapper, but we all went up there. We were up at her house until like 3:30 or 4:00 in the morning. She said she couldn’t decide, so she put all three of together to make the group. She said three was her favorite number because she had seen groups in the past with three members like the Moments and some other people. That was a Friday night — and she didn’t bullshit.

On Monday, we went down to the studio and a group called Positive Force laid down the music. It took about eight hours. They played everything for 15 minutes — actually 19 — and we cut it down to 15. And then we went in there and did our parts. I was on the left, Hank was in the middle, and Gee was on the right. That was it.

I was still homeless when I recorded “Rapper’s Delight.” We listened to it until about 4:00 a.m., and everybody said, “I think we might have a hit here.” And I said, “Play it again!” I had nowhere to go. I thought to myself, “Well, I can kill two hours and then go to the diner or something when it opens.” But everybody started leaving, and I was pretending I was waiting on my cousin in the parking lot of the studio, but I was really going to go across the street to the park. Miss Robinson pulled up and said, “Hey, Mike, what are you doing?” I told her I was waiting on a ride from my cousin. She said, “No, you’re not. You’re going to sleep in that park.” I was like, “Oh, wow.” I couldn’t say anything. She said “jump in,” and I went from the park to her eight-bedroom, Spanish-style mansion up on a hill.

I was emotionally blank when she said that. I was like, “Oh, damn, I don’t want anybody to know this shit.” But she’s driving a Rolls-Royce, and I know she’s got money because she’s Sylvia Robinson. Pride is foolish. It’s the original sin. This was August. Next month was September, and the seasons were getting colder. I thought, “Nope, I’m getting in the car—nevermind this pride mess.” I got to her house, everybody was asleep and she went to bed. I was down in the kitchen, and there were some dinner rolls that were rising on the counter. I didn’t know anything about rising rolls, and to me, they were half-baked. So, I ate 10 half-bakedrolls. To me, it tasted like steak.

All Night Long

There was nothing hard about making this record. Nineteen minutes wasn’t nothing to us because we’re used to throwing parties—that’s forever on record. But it didn’t feel like anything to us because we were used to rapping all night. All of us were instrumental in making the song. It was collaborative effort. I was influenced by hunger pangs in my stomach. I was influenced by looking up at night and seeing the stars instead of a ceiling.

To tell you the truth, I was never insecure. But I knew my bad luck had to turn around somehow. I was trying to make it turn around. I was working at a candy factory, moving furniture, breaking up swimming pools and hauling them away. I was going to go into the Air Force, but then I heard about the audition. I was the last one to audition, but we all got the job. And that was that.

Working Like A Dog

I was 22 years old when “Rapper’s Delight” came out. Fifteen years earlier, at just seven years old, I went to see A Hard Day’s Nightwith the Beatles. Women were going nuts and screaming and all that, and that’s what they did at our shows. It was like deja vu. And the Saturday after our first two shows, Miss Robinson took us to 225thStreet in Harlem. We got a bunch of clothes and we walked around, and we kept hearing “Rapper’s Delight” in the stores…from different radio stations in cars, barber shops, butchers, clothing stores, buses, tow trucks—everybody was playing it. But we knew we had a hit the night we recorded it because nobody had ever done it. They hadn’t heard this yet.

Living the Dream

It’s crazy because there are a million hip-hop groups now, and there’s been like six…seven different genres, time periods, and styles. The first voice they heard on this record was mine, Michael Wright, son of Dolores and William, who grew up in Newark. Me. We used to sing Beatles songs after school and the girls would chase us just like A Hard Day’s Night. I dug it. Next thing I know, it’s happening in real life. I’m living it.

Mike Vs. Wonder Mike

I catch myself sometimes just in awe of what I’ve accomplished. But when I’m at home, I take the trash out, whatever, and I don’t trip about this business. I’m just Mike at home. When I cross a threshold into that arena into that world, I have a healthy respect for my position in this business.

Before There Was Instagram…

We didn’t have an official music video for “Rapper’s Delight,” but somebody filmed our performance one night at the Soap Factory in New Jersey. It was right next to Route 80. They used to actually make soap and then it turned into a coffee shop. By September 1979, when we performed there, it was a club. But seeing the video doesn’t elicit anything nostalgic anymore. It used to. But I’ve seen it a trillion times and I remember that night. That’s about it. But if it’s a good day, hearing “Rapper’s Delight” takes me back to the early days when the song was new. And, you know, the girls would chase us off the stage before we finished, and we’d have to run out the alley. Those are good memories.

Chic Regrets

Nobody went about it doing it the right way as far as getting written permission and all that. If you’re going to cover a song, I think that’s different. I don’t think you have to get permission to cover a song, but if you use part of a song to make a new song by you, then you gotta straighten that shit out.

Some things worked out and some things never will because of how they were situated the first time. When we first dropped the record, our names and Miss Robinson’s name was on it—not Nile Rogers and Bernard Edwards. They sued. We said, “Okay,” but the next round of records had only their names and none of ours. I think it stayed like that for like 40 years. We were like, “No way, Motherfucker. You didn’t write any of our lyrics. We did. Put our name on it.” We didn’t write the music and I’m a fair person, so we put your names on it. You didn’t write any of the lyrics, so put our names on it. But we didn’t redo “Good Times.” We should have just had what Chic sang, then it wouldn’t have been a problem. But we made a new song using their shit. I’m glad they finally gave Curtis Brown [Grandmaster Caz] his props. He wrote all of Hank’s raps. We’re still getting love off of it.

I Said-a Hip, Hop

My advice to my younger self would be to keep writing. I got married and had four kids. That was 13 years where I wasn’t doing anything with music. Nothing. I was moving furniture, painting houses and refinishing wood floors. which I loved because it was my company. I didn’t work for anybody. But when I got divorced, I kind of gave my ex-wife the company and I was like, “I’m not going back to being assedout.” So, I got back with the guys and started touring.

My relationship with Master Gee is good. I don’t have any relationship with Hank obviously because he died [in 2014], but me and Gee are still tight. In fact, we were still going out until I got sick last year. Sugarhill Gang still goes out, but they have a replacement for me right now. People are understanding because who the fuck sticks together for 40-something years? That’s rare. When you think about it Journey was together for 10 years, we were together for 43. But yeah, I gotta get back on stage—and I will”.

If we look at hip-Hop songs and those that define the genre, everyone will have their own opinions and thoughts. When it comes to those that moved things forward and did more to push the genre to new people I don’t think that Rapper’s Delight can be beaten! The debut single from The Sugarhill Gang, their incredible song has done more than any other. I don’t think that any Hip-Hop song is…

AS important as this.

FEATURE: Sleeping on An Icon: Why We Need to Cherish and Share Music Legends Whilst They Are With Us

FEATURE:

 

 

Sleeping on An Icon

 IN THIS PHOTO: Paul Simon/PHOTO CREDIT: T.J. Kirkpatrick for The New York Times

Why We Need to Cherish and Share Music Legends Whilst They Are With Us

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RATHER than this being grim…

PHOTO CREDIT: Diana Onfilm/Pexels

and talking about the mortality and lifespan of musicians, it is a plea to music fans out there. Specifically younger listeners. Those who maybe ignore an artist because they are ‘before their time’. I think this is a real problem. Others might be too involved with modern music to really appreciate those who have inspired these current greats. What happens when we lost an amazing artist that has been recording for years is that many people come out of the woodwork. They will express their sadness and write how big a loss it is. How they love that person’s work and that this is a huge tragedy. I don’t know how genuine this is. Whether you get this rather phoned-in or copy-and-paste reaction to death. If you pressed a person, would they really have that knowledge and relationship with that artist?! It does seem morbid. I think that we do need to investigate and spend time with icons now. Rather than leave things until they pass and we express how much that artist meant to us – when they probably didn’t really -, there needs to be more of an attachment to these legends. It does come back to that thing as to whether we are led to same-sounding music. If algorithms and streaming services point us towards music that is quite similar. If we get caught in this cycle of being recommended daily playlists on streaming services and will always listen to what is suggested. In terms of the mainstream and what is around now, there is a lot of samey music. Not enough diversity and range within. This might also affect what we listen to and how we approach music. If we stick with a very similar sound. There is a generation that grew up on icons and that is what they listen to most. I am conscious that there are generations that either do not know about these artists or listened to them when they were children or teens - and they have now put them aside. Because these people are not recording or not as frequently as they used to, we tend to forget. Everything is about the new and upcoming. I do feel that we slip by older artists.

Think about some of the true greats who, in a decade or so, might not be with us. Possibly less. Joni Mitchell, Paul Simon, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, Bob Dylan. Maybe they need not be as huge as them. These are artists who have given so much and I don’t think we should leave it there. Recognise how important they are now and what they have given to music. It makes me wonder whether there needs to be documentaries about these artists. I have been thinking about artists like Paul McCartney, Joni Mitchell and Paul Simon. These amazing songwriters who might leave us in the next decade. It is not too late for people who maybe have been sleeping on these icons to do something about it. We are in a culture where older music is not as recognised and recommended as it should be. There is this thing about what is new and current being trendy and preferred. There is a whole generation of musicians that are almost being ignored. Assumed their day is done. Even someone like Madonna. Popular when she goes on tour, yet I wonder whether there are generations that should be picking her music up and talking about it more. As she is not recording at the moment, she is seen as less relevant as a  modern-day great. There aren’t really documentaries or anything new about these legends. If I think about these icons that are still with us and we need to celebrate, there is not really a lot of new investigation and appreciation. Making sure that young generations know about them. That those who briefly engaged with their music know more. It is quite sad to think that we will loss some great artists and many people will post half-hearted or cliché reaction – and they would have missed out on so much.

We do need to appreciate these artists whilst we have them. It is quite sad when we see this parade of famous people come out when an artist dies and say how they have always been fans or it is a massive loss. How sincere that is. Maybe time is against some of the oldest artists who might leave us shortly, but not necessarily so. There is this archive for each of them. In terms of the music itself and interviews with them. Again, I think we are driven in modern culture to listen to what is new. A lot of what sounds similar. We really do have to get out of that habit. It is so important to cherish some of these magnificent and decades-long artists who have given us so much. Really understand how much they have contributed. Without them, so much of what is around today would not exist. There are studies that show how we explore new music less as we get older. It might mean that people who grew up with music greats are less likely to move forward and may stick with what they know. I am talking to those people who have either overlooked a great or did not grow up around them. This feature was inspired by a phrase in the recent book, Quantum Criminals: Ramblers, Wild Gamblers, and Other Sole Survivors from the Songs of Steely Dan. Written by Alex Pappademas, it is a book about the characters in Steely Dan songs. Pappademas was writing about the death of Walter Becker in 2017 and how all these celebrities came out and expressed how much he meant to them. How inauthentic their words were. How, as he said, they “slept on an icon”. Missed out on someone great whilst they were with us. It is the way with many artists we have lost. It was that way when Amy Winehouse died in 2011. It is quite sad that we miss out on so much. That thing when we loss great artists and didn’t really spend enough time getting to know their music. Rather than leave things until then, we need to spend time away from what is new or in our collection and embrace these legends. The media and filmmakers doing more to highlight these artists and putting something out that will engage with younger listeners. Rather than rely on a certain generation(s) keeping this music alive and it being assumed icons are cherished by all, I don’t think that is the case. So many are being overlooked. We need to talk about them now and tell them how much they mean to us…

BEFORE it is too late.

FEATURE: State of the World: Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation 1814 at Thirty-Five

FEATURE:

 

 

State of the World

Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation 1814 at Thirty-Five

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THERE is debate…

as to which Janet Jackson album is best. All of them are worthy, though I do think that Control (1986), Janet (1993) or The Velvet Rope (1997) could get in the medal positions. These albums are all hugely acclaimed and successful. All different and astonishing. Within this golden run of albums was Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation 1814. Released on 19th September, 1989, I wanted to mark thirty-five years of perhaps her best album. I think it just shades Janet. I have not heard whether there is a special anniversary reissue of Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation 1814. A chart-topper in the U.S., 1989 was a year where Janet Jackson was at the peak of her powers. After the success of Control, A&M Records wanted something similar. One of the worst traits of record labels: if an album becomes successful then artists should do the same once more rather than evolving or having a say. Instead, Jackson built this concept album that tackled social issues. She worked with some amazing songwriters like Terry Lewis and mixed a range of genres to create this compelling and incredible album. I want to get to some features that explore Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation 1814. I would recommend you read this 2014 feature from Billboard on the twenty-fifth anniversary of a classic album. They spoke with songwriters Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis to guide us through the tracks. I just want to drop in the introduction:

“If Janet Jackson‘s third album, 1986’s Control, was a declaration of independence, the follow-up, Rhythm Nation 1814, was a constitution — a blueprint for the kind of country that this confident, sexy and newly independent 23-year old woman wanted to live in. At least it was for roughly a third of its runtime.

Released 25 years ago tomorrow (Sept. 19, 1989), Rhythm Nation 1814 begins with a pledge: “We are a nation with no geographic boundaries, bound together through our beliefs.” From there, it goes into the title track, a national anthem for this colorblind utopia Janet has imagined. The four digits in the album’s title refer to the year “The Star-Spangled Banner” was written, and with the help of James “Jimmy Jam” Harris III and Terry Lewis — the production team behind Control — Jackson gives Francis Scott Key‘s greatest hit a New Jack Swing remake.

Rhythm Nation stays political for a few songs and then segues into kinder, gentler relationship songs, many of which dominated radio and MTV. An unprecedented seven of the album’s singles made the Top 5 of the Billboard Hot 100, and four of them — “Miss You Much, “Escapade,” “Love Will Never Do (Without You)” and “Black Cat” — hit No. 1. The album, not surprisingly, topped the Billboard 200, vaulting Janet to a level of pop mega-stardom almost on par with that of her brother Michael Jackson”.

Moving onto a feature from The New Yorker written by Amanda Petrusich. Diving into an album that was a “post-racial utopia founded on the power of groove”, it is a fascinating article. I hope that more is written about it ahead of its thirty-fifth anniversary. If you have not heard Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation 1814, I would definitely urge you to do so. It is one of the greatest albums of all time:

“Its title (Jackson added the 1814 because that’s the year the national anthem was composed) suggests a kind of musical Arcadia, where everyone is unified by a deep and undeniable imperative to move: a compulsory shoulder pop, an instinctive wiggle, or whatever it is that happens to your body when you hear someone yell, “Gimme a beat!” D.j.s in particular had been arguing for decades that dance could be a way of minimizing the distance between races, genders, and creeds. David Mancuso, a legend of New York disco, often spoke about the dance floors he commanded as fiercely egalitarian, a place where hierarchies were instantly erased and the crowd became a single, loving organism.

Jackson opens the record with a strange monologue: a call for unity, chanted in a steady monotone.

We are a nation with no geographic boundaries, bound together through our beliefs. We are like-minded individuals, sharing a common vision, pushing toward a world rid of color lines.

“Interlude: Pledge” from “Rhythm Nation 1814”

The citizens of Rhythm Nation are universalists, rallying only for the greater good, which makes “Rhythm Nation 1814” feel, in some ways, like the last major pop record that could credibly be described as optimistic. Already by the late nineteen-eighties, Jackson’s entreaties sounded gentle and idealistic compared to those of more radicalized consciousness-raising artists.

Public Enemy and N.W.A. arguably had a more profound influence on pop culture today; it’s hard to imagine a contemporary pop star, who came of age in an era when intersectionality is the dominant critical framework, successfully insisting that we’re all more similar than we think. The vision of a world in “Rhythm Nation,” in which societal ills such as poverty, drug use, and unemployment are merely individual problems, not inextricably linked to systemic injustice, hasn’t aged especially well. The colossal empowerment anthems of our time—such as Beyoncé’s “Formation,” from 2016—are less about erasing difference than claiming and celebrating it.

Jackson was incalculably influential in other ways, though, including in her use of the music-video format. A thirty-minute long-form music video, which Jackson’s team took to calling a “telemusical,” was produced to promote the record just prior to its release. It contained three distinct, shorter videos—for the singles “Miss You Much,” “The Knowledge,” and “Rhythm Nation”—all shot in black-and-white, surely a nod to Jackson’s vision of a color-blind society. The story line functions as a kind of P.S.A., following two kids with big dreams whose lives are ravaged by drugs.

The video premièred on MTV, and was later released on VHS. The eighties were a remarkable moment for the synching of the musical and the televisual, an idea seeded by Elvis Presley’s provocative, hip-thrusting appearance on “The Ed Sullivan Show,” three decades before. Michael Jackson’s fourteen-minute video for “Thriller,” which was directed by John Landis, premièred in late 1983; it was followed by groundbreaking video work from Peter Gabriel, Dire Straits, and Madonna.

Janet Jackson worked with Anthony Thomas, then an unknown choreographer, who later honed the pop-and-lock (he was influenced by the jerky, rousing funk and disco dances developed on the West Coast in the nineteen-seventies), and is now often referred to as “the man who changed the face of hip-hop.” The video for “Miss You Much,” choreographed by Jackson and Thomas, includes an incredibly captivating chair routine that would be imitated for years after.

Jackson’s pioneering integration of the visual and the musical wasn’t immediately recognized or appreciated by critics. In the eighties and early nineties, music journalists often considered too much spectacle a distraction, or evidence of something prefabricated and therefore inauthentic. “Spontaneity has been ruled out,” Jon Pareles wrote of Jackson’s live show in 1990. “Rockism,” as it later came to be known, valued songwriting and a particular kind of pained earnestness over practiced performance. As a young critic, I internalized these values so thoroughly that it took me years to unlearn them, to figure out how to trust pleasure and lightness and drama. Eventually, criticism in general remade itself, and writers now routinely acknowledge that there’s a distinct and sophisticated art to the extra-musical extravaganza”.

I am going to end with an anniversary feature from Albumism from 2019. Marking thirty years of Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation 1814, this is an album that is still so relevant and powerful today. Maybe that is the power of Janet Jackson’s music and voice. It may be a reflection on the way the world is slow to change and we do not learn lessons. It means Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation 1814 will never sounded dated or a product of its time:

“Where Control was an album about a woman staking her independence and coming into her own, the follow-up would cast its gaze wider to the world around her. Heavily influenced by Marvin Gaye’s landmark What’s Going On (1971) album, Jackson wondered if a modern take holding a mirror up to the social issues of the time could be achieved.

And so, with producers and confident confidants Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis by her side, the trio bunkered down during the winter of 1989 at Flyte Tyme studios in Minneapolis to make an album that could inspire a generation to become more socially conscious of the world they live in and the part they can play.

Fueled by the notion of creating a collective not bound by space, race, gender or sexual orientation, Jackson formed the Rhythm Nation, adding the numerals 1814 to reflect the year the Star Spangled Banner was written (and purely coincidentally, R and N are the 18th and 14th letters in the alphabet, respectively.)

Pumping out of the speakers, “Rhythm Nation” is a tour de force of metallic tribal beats, drum loops and samples featuring Sly and The Family Stone’s “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)” and Jackson’s own hits from the Control album. A frenetic industrial groove underpins Jackson’s vocals as she implores, “Join voices in protest to social injustice / A generation full of courage, come forth with me.” The song deftly marches the fine line of being rousing without being preachy, capturing the ideology and purpose behind Jackson’s message all wrapped up in a hard to sit still groove.

From “Rhythm Nation,” we segue into “State of The World” via a channel surfing interlude that mimics Jackson’s own experience of watching news stories on CNN and being moved into action.

“State of The World” pulls no punches as it addresses the scourge of drugs, homelessness, prostitution, school shootings, poverty, teen suicide and teen pregnancy. Rather than trying to solve the problems in a four-minute pop song, Jackson decides to bring awareness to these issues and hopes to encourage her listeners to think about what they can do to drive change. Amidst the clanging metallic beats and wandering synth bass, the dire situation is given a voice and perhaps some hope as Jackson sings “Can’t give up hope now / Let’s weather the storm together.”

If “State of The World” presented real world problems, the following track, the beat heavy “The Knowledge,” offers a way out. Extolling the virtues of the United Negro College Fund’s motto “A Mind Is A Terrible Thing To Waste,” Janet advocates for her listeners to pursue the power and opportunity that education brings and the doors it can open. One of Jackson’s most powerful songs, it (along with many of the songs from Rhythm Nation) remains incredibly vital and modern in both its outlook and sonic representation.

The album’s opening trio of songs clearly establishes the project’s intent and mission. Having challenged and opened minds, Jackson was now ready to give the listener a little reprieve from the social messaging with the dance-pop fare of “Miss You Much.” As she states in the interlude “Get the point? Good, let’s dance,” she’s stated her point and is now ready to celebrate some of the more positive moments in life, namely love.

As the first single from the outing, “Miss You Much” was the bridge between the dance orientation of Control and the new direction of RN1814 the record label, and maybe even fans, pined for. Its instantly catchy groove and playful vocal delivery primed, this dancefloor filler bubbles with pop-funk and sweeps the listener away with its airy vocal melodies and ode to new love.

The slinky bassline of “Love Will Never Do Without You” seduces with ease as Jackson sings about the desire for a fulfilling love, even one against the odds. With a shimmering arrangement beneath her, Jackson delivers one of her finest moments on record. Often characterized as having a whispering vocal, here Jackson sings with strength and confidence and layers the song in lush backing harmonies that glisten with every passing line.

But as reality is oft want to do, these moments of relief are cracked by the harsh brutality of life. Inspired by the Stockton Playground Shooting that took place during the recording sessions, “Living In A World (They Didn’t Make)” is a somber reflection on the ills adults create for the next generation. Again, Jackson isn’t trying to claim she knows all the answers, but rather presents an issue for the listener to ponder.

Closing the midpoint of the album with “Living In A World,” Jackson frees up the second half of the project to explore a brighter side of existence kicking off with the jubilant, springing “Alright” with its New Jack Swing groove and acid house inspired loops and squeaky bass. If the first side of the album is characterized by the dominant black and white moody photography of the album cover, then “Alright” is an explosion of Technicolor bursting at the seams.

“Escapade,” with its pure pop sensibility, is smile inducing. Jackson’s playful personality is perfectly captured on record and underpinned by an irresistible chorus and double clap accompaniment. Its light and airy feel is the perfect counterpoint to the heaviness of the album openers.

As the only wholly self-penned track on the album, “Black Cat” exposes Jackson’s rockier side and gives us a glimpse into the challenging relationships of her past. Set against a classic rock beat and raucous guitars, she growls in her vocals, offering a raspier, rawer delivery that resonated with both rock and pop audiences, giving Jackson one of her four Number 1 singles from the album.

Just as the album opened with a trio of songs focusing on social consciousness, the album closes with another trio of songs, this time focused on relationships, love and sexuality. “Lonely” leads the pack with a slow-jam of densely stacked harmonies and swaying melodies. “Come Back To Me” is a pleading ballad of lament and longing, and “Someday Is Tonight” is the sexual climax of Control’s “Let’s Wait A While,” where Jackson delivers on the promise of being “worth the wait.” Sensual and breathy, Jackson seduces and pulls you in, setting the tone for her more sexual slow burn songs that would close out many of her albums that would follow this.

Rhythm Nation 1814 is perhaps the most perfect encapsulation of Janet Jackson. In many ways it became the blueprint for her albums that would follow both in structure and sequencing. And despite the fears of her record label, it was an unqualified smash success, surpassing the sales of its predecessor and cementing Jackson’s place within the superstar sphere.

Accompanied by a powerful and engaging 30-minute mini-movie, Rhythm Nation 1814 found Jackson wearing her heart on her black military inspired sleeve and dared to make a difference. In what would soon be iconic black and white imagery and oft repeated dance moves, Jackson created a look, feel, and sound of a whole generation to feel a part of.

But more important than the millions of sales and countless Top Ten hits, the album made an impact in people’s lives. It opened eyes. It gave voice to the issues of the day. It encouraged its listeners to make a difference in the world and their own lives. It made them care.

And it made a difference. If music has the power to connect us to an emotion or feel a part of something bigger, then Rhythm Nation did that. Kids hearing “The Knowledge” were inspired to stay on in school or seek a college education. People wary of differences became less fearful and embraced them. It inspired a generation to believe, to have hope, and feel that they could make a change. It engaged and connected with the listener. And it gave the listener a feeling of belonging, a place to feel good, to feel empowered.

Thirty years on and Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation 1814 is still a landmark album. It still resonates. And sadly, it reflects many of the ills that still plague us. It’s both a time capsule and a mirror. A movement for the heart and mind. It’s a near flawless album. One that pulled Jackson once and for all out of the shadows of her elder siblings and made her a bona fide superstar who can still sell out arenas to this day. It’s an important milestone not only in Jackson’s career, but in the musical landscape in general. And when talk centers around great albums with a social conscience, it deserves to be included”.

On 19th September, Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation 1814 turns thirty-five. In my view, Janet Jackson’s greatest and most important album. The Rhythm Nation World Tour 1990 became the most successful debut concert tour by a recording artist at the time. Timely and important in 1989, the themes addressed throughout Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation 1814 are still relevant to this day. It makes me think how we need another album like this today. Thirty-five years after its release, this album still creates shockwaves and impressions. It affects and resounds…

IN 2024.

FEATURE: The Digital Mixtape: Nina Persson at Fifty: An Ultimate Playlist

FEATURE:

 

 

The Digital Mixtape

Nina Persson at Fifty: An Ultimate Playlist

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A wonderful artist and songwriter…

IN THIS PHOTO: The Cardigans

I discovered in the 1990s as a child is Nina Persson. The lead of The Cardigans, she turns fifty on 6th September. I wanted to celebrate this amazing artist. Someone who has also worked solo and as a collaborator. I am going to end with a career-spanning playlist featuring some of her solo material, work with other musicians, plus a good selection of tracks with The Cardigans. A definite icon of the 1990s and a legend in her own right, she deserves to be recognised. Before I ger to that playlist, AllMusic have a biography of Nina Persson. Someone who has had a truly amazing career:

“Known primarily as the frontwoman for the '90s-formed Swedish indie pop heroes the Cardigans, Nina Persson also went on to front the solo project A Camp for a pair of albums in the 2000s. While living in New York she issued a proper solo album, the '80s-inspired Animal Heart, in 2014 before moving back to Sweden. Persson was relatively quiet in the late 2010s, resurfacing every now and then for a guest spot or collaborative single, but in 2023 she shared top billing with U.K. folk artist James Yorkston on The Great White Sea Eagle, which also featured Swedish chamber group the Second Hand Orchestra.

Growing up in Jönköping, Sweden, Persson was a relative latecomer to pop music, only beginning to show interest in it when she was well into her teens. After meeting Peter Svensson and Magnus Sveningsson while at art college, she was asked to front the Cardigans even before she'd performed live on-stage. In the mid-'90s the band issued four albums -- from 1994's twee, soft-released Emmerdale to 1998's three million-selling Gran Turismo -- while steadily finding further worldwide commercial success with each concurrent release; the band managed to achieve this while gradually pursuing darker themes and sounds along the way.

Released in 1996, First Band on the Moon -- which featured the international hit "Lovefool" -- was the first Cardigans record to include lyrics penned by Persson, and by the time a band hiatus arrived due to various bandmembers' family commitments, she was more than equipped to be the main creative force behind the solo side project that she named A Camp. The 2001-released, self-titled album was produced in the main by Mark Linkous of Sparklehorse, but also featured some production and instrumentation from ex-Shudder to Think guitarist Nathan Larson, who Persson married that same year following their relocation to New York in 2000

In the mid-2000s, the Cardigans resumed work and released a pair of albums, each of which topped the Swedish charts. 2003's Per Sunding-produced, country-influenced Long Gone Before Daylight continued the band's tradition of progressively issuing downbeat material, while 2005's Super Extra Gravity saw the return of Tore Johansson, who had produced each of the band's '90s albums.

The second politically themed A Camp album, Colonia, took influence from classic pop of the '60s and '70s and appeared in 2009, the same year that her contribution to the Danger Mouse and Sparklehorse album Dark Night of the Soul was made available. In 2010, Persson gave birth to her son Nils, and subsequently -- although she contributed vocals to Larson's soundtrack projects of the period, as well as to James Iha's album Look to the Sky -- became less focused on making music in the years that followed. However, by 2014 she had readied a proper solo album, the first to appear under her own name. Released that February, sessions for the '80s pop-inspired Animal Heart took place in collaboration with both Larson and Fruit Bats mainstay Eric D. Johnson. After this Persson and her family relocated from New York back to Sweden and settled in Malmö. Apart from a pair of Swedish-language singles featuring, among others, Bob Hund frontman Thomas Öberg, she kept a low profile until 2022 when she teamed up with Scottish folk singer/songwriter James Yorkston. Released in 2023 The Great White Sea Eagle marked Yorkston's second project with Swedish chamber pop group the Second Hand Orchestra. As longtime admirers of Persson, Yorkston and producer Karl-Jonas Winqvist invited her to be the featured vocalist on many of the album's songs”.

A singular voice and songwriter, I am glad I have an excuse to feature Nina Persson! Turning fifty on 6th September, I do hope that we get more music from her soon. Whether that is another solo album or anything with another musician. I am not sure whether we will get any new music from The Cardigans. In any case, below is a playlist that shows what an amazing artist Persson is. Here is a collection of songs from…

A music icon.

FEATURE: Spotlight: KNEECAP

FEATURE:

 

 

Spotlight

IN THIS PHOTO: Kneecap backstage at Glastonbury 2024/PHOTO CREDIT: Andy Ford for NME

KNEECAP

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I am a little late…

getting to the KNEECAP party. The second studio album from the trio, Fine Art, was released in June. It is one of the most acclaimed albums of this year. I will get to a couple of those reviews to end this feature. Before that, there are some interviews I want to spotlight. Mo Chara, Móglaí Bap and DJ Próvaí are KNEECAP. One of the most respected, promising and controversial groups around.  A film about the band has just been released. KNEECAP charts the rise of the Belfast-based trio. It has won some rave reviews. It is a perfect time to discover KNEECAP. I will start off with an interview from The Line of Best Fit. A thrilling and terrific band who were and are rebelling through rave:

“Sitting alongside him, Móglaí Bap (Naoise O'Cairealláin, and the other half to Chara), is quick to jump in. "You’re not deeply thinking about anything," he quips, prompting a returning slew of insults, a burst of laughter from the third part of this trio, DJ Próvaí (JJ O Dochartaigh), and quickly solidifying the personality of Kneecap.

In the relatively short span since this hip-hop band’s formation, Kneecap has rocketed from local notoriety to international acclaim. The raw energy and irreverent wit that quickly set them apart also led to debut single, "C.E.A.R.T.A," (Irish for ‘Rights’) being banned by the Irish language radio station RTÉ Raidió na Gaeltachta in 2017. In 2019, the South Belfast Democratic Unionist Party openly criticised them for chants of “Brits out” during one of their performances – which later went on to inspire their shamelessly satirical single “Get your Brits Out”. Even now, they’re suing the UK Government after their £15,000 Music Export Growth Scheme grant was revoked, with officials citing it would be inappropriate to fund "people that oppose the United Kingdom itself."

“Where we come from is obviously so cheery,” jokes Bap, “when we started off in music we had criticism coming from both sides of the community. So we definitely don’t discriminate when it comes to taking the piss.” Próvaí adds with a grin, “Though there are some things you can’t joke about.” He doesn’t elaborate on what those ‘somethings’ are; despite their outspoken personas, the group knows where they draw the line. Their debut longplayer Fine Art, released last week on Heavenly Records, exemplifies this ethos. It’s an unapologetic celebration of their heritage, scattered with pointed commentary on the socio-political landscape they tread. However, fans might be surprised if they were expecting something as openly incendiary as their earlier projects.

“We are absolutely thinking about what we’re saying,” shares Bap, reflecting on the band’s hope that Fine Art will still press some buttons, “but here we were thinking about the music a lot more…Not that we were focusing on pissing people off before. It was just the subject matter.”

With Toddla T on board as producer for Fine Art , Kneecap aimed to “up the ante” musically. “Toddla’s like real professional. He’s worked with everyone and had everyone in that studio. It brings out the best in you, being around people like that,” Chara continues. “You really feed off it”.

Kneecap are a band still surprised by their rapid rise: “We started writing tunes about, you know, killing sniffer dogs,” says Chara with a laugh. “We didn’t expect to get signed by a record label…we were quite sceptical of English people kind of profiting off our long-standing history,” adds Bap. With everything falling into place, Fine Art showcases Kneecap’s growth, exploring boundaries and creative depths with newfound support, regardless of their occasional headline-making antics. And still, despite the polish and layers and new instrumentation, their music retains the same confidence, banter, and booziness that defines them.

“We love not being predictable,” shares Chara, backed by murmurs of agreement from his bandmates. “We love collaborations and we love the idea of doing collaborations.” Occasionally these things meet, with Fontaines D.C.’s Grian Chatten delivering an unruffled chorus on the deliberately sedate “Better Way to Live” or Lankum’s Radie Peat lending her voice to the almost mystical opener “3cag.” It’s a benefit of hip-hop, Bap shares, discussing the ways the genre lends itself to experimentation between styles and sounds. After all, Kneecap boldly refuse to be boxed in, a sentiment echoed in their evolving musical expression. While rooted in local culture, this hip-hop trio's music resonates with universal themes of resistance, identity, and revelry, appealing well beyond the borders of the North of Ireland. This is a band that taps into a universal desire to say ‘fuck it’ and have a party.

PHOTO CREDIT: Sophie Barloc

As they reminisce on their journey, Próvaí shifts to their upcoming film, a self-titled semi-fictional biopic releasing later this year. "Flying over to Sundance unexpectedly?! I mean, we never expected a big premiere in the middle of America. Having people come up to you in the middle of Utah. Half Mormons, half Normans,” he finishes with a titter. “We started writing the script in 2019 with Rich [Peppiatt, co-writer and director],” recalls Bap. “It was great fun to sit and have a crate of 20 Guinness and write.” Próvaí adds with a laugh: “It was great until, like, page 40 when the drink kicks in.” This prompts more laughter from the trio, as they excitedly talk over each other, affectionately recounting their raucous writing sessions. “The script was beautifully written for ages, then just terrible after that,” finishes Bap, chuckling.

At their core, Kneecap are storytellers. While the band kept their screenwriting and musical storytelling separate, they do recognise a similar desire to create a world through Fine Art, itself a concept album set entirely inside the fictional raucous Irish pub “The Rutz”. “It kind of incorporates every walk of life,” Bap muses. “One minute someone’s going to be singing an Irish folk song – and if someone’s singing an Irish folk song you have to be very very quiet or else you’ll be shunned – and the next minute you’re going into a cubicle and there’s six fellas taking coke, so it’s the ups and downs of the pub”. Próvaí continues: “It matters that oral tradition in Ireland, going back centuries of storytelling, was passed down by mouth. Whenever you’re in a setting like a pub, you hear all the stories from the local community and it all ties in”.

Apologies if there is crossover between the interviews at all. I was particularly struck by one from The Guardian from February. Interviewed by Miranda Sawyer, she noted how KNEECAP’s riotous music was uniting young people in Northern Ireland and, in the process, reviving the Irish language. This was before the release of the KNEECAP film. It has been such a busy and important year for the band. I was sort of surprised that Fine Art was not shortlisted for the Mercury Prize. Maybe it missed the cutoff. You know that this album will scoop plenty of prizes and honours:

“Though they’ve been bubbling under for quite a while, this year Kneecap are kicking into a higher gear. (And yes, their name is a cheeky reference to paramilitary punishment.) There’s the forthcoming album, a tour of the US and Canada, a main-stage appearance at Reading and Leeds festivals and – the thing that will catapult them to much bigger renown – their excellent, harum scarum, semi-autobiographical film, Kneecap. The band all play heightened, cartoon versions of themselves to tell a heightened, cartoon version of their story, with a Trainspotting-cum-8-Mile feel. It won the audience award at this year’s Sundance film festival.

The band returned home from Sundance before the award was announced, but they’d already made quite the impression. Not only with the film – described by the festival as “a wild, ketamine-laced ride from start to finish, punctuated by songs, touches of animation, and voiceover narration by Óg Ó hAnnaidh” – but with their stunts. They brought a PSNI (Northern Ireland police force) Land Rover with them, and found a place called Provo to have their picture taken with it. “It ended up that we were on the front of all the magazines, because of that jeep,” says Mo Chara.

The hipster Americans might not quite have got the significance of an Irish-language band driving round in a PSNI car, nor indeed of Provo (a genuine Utah city, but also Irish slang for a member of the Provisional IRA), but they got the joke. Like Eminem, Kneecap’s humour is the key to their success. Their wit and eloquence shine through everything they do. There’s a great joe.co.uk interview about “stupid questions you shouldn’t ask Irish people”. After a beautifully argued section from Mo Chara, about how the British will only be able to deal with their colonial history if they tackle it as openly as the Germans did after the second world war, he says: “But the Brits just wanna hide their past, because they feel too guilty,” and makes a fists-to-the-eyes cry-baby face.

Through their very existence, Kneecap are often seen as political, not only by unionists in Ireland’s North, but by the UK government (Kemi Badenoch’s Department for Business and Trade recently intervened to stop them receiving an arts grant, of which, more later). Their songs have been banned by RTE for their copious and celebratory drug references, and for calling the PSNI the RUC (the pre-peace police force). They’ve been escorted from their own concert by security for chanting revolutionary slogans; they’ve got a song called Get Your Brits Out, about a (hypothetical) wild night out with the DUP’s Arlene Foster, Jeffrey Donaldson and Christopher Stalford (“Christy” in the song); another called Fenian Cunts, about Mo Chara having sex with a Protestant (“you can call me King Billy if you want”); and a skit about the IRA coming down hard on drug takers. They’re post-Good Friday agreement bad boys, taking out every old authority figure without fear: “We don’t discriminate who we piss off.”

In 2019 they advertised their Farewell to the Union tour of England and Scotland with a cartoon of Arlene Foster and Boris Johnson strapped to a rocket atop a bonfire. And in 2022, before playing at West Belfast’s Féile An Phobail arts festival, they unveiled a wall mural of a PSNI jeep, also on fire. “They get more upset about a mural of a jeep on fire than they do about a real jeep on fire,” says Mo Chara. “The last time I saw a real jeep on fire was in the [unionist area] Shankill,” says Móglaí Bap. “That’s the truth!”

Though it’s their establishment baiting that makes headlines, far more fundamental to the band’s soul and mission is the fact that all three are Irish speakers (Irish is Móglaí Bap’s first language). This might seem unprovocative to anyone outside Belfast, but official recognition of the Irish language was one of the reasons why the Northern Ireland Assembly was suspended in 2022 (the DUP opposed the Identity and Language Act, which gave Irish a legal status equal to English). The act was eventually passed in late 2022 and the campaign to have the language recognised is a storyline in the film. Kneecap started rapping in Irish to show that it’s a living language that can describe not only the traditional Irish smell of turf on a fire but what’s going on in real life now, from sex to drugs to silly jokes about drinking Buckfast.

And beside all of this, to most of their young fans Kneecap are simply a great band: funny, wild, a brilliant live act, a craic. As one YouTube commenter says: “I do not understand a word they’re saying, but I do understand that this is an absolute banger.” The best rap comes from a living culture, and Kneecap’s is working-class Belfast. They’re self-proclaimed “lowlife scum”.

As you might be able to tell, drugs play quite a part in Kneecap’s world. They invented Irish words for them, because the language didn’t have them. “Snaois” is coke, “capaillín” is ketamine. Tattooed across Móglaí Bap’s chest is 3CAG, the title of their 2018 album. It stands for “3 chonsan agus guta”, the Irish for “three consonants and a vowel”, meaning MDMA. Mo Chara and Móglaí Bap started doing this while hanging out in their teens. Later, they had a squat for a while together and ran events. Everyone would go out until 2am, then pile back and bring out instruments and play Irish music, dancing till 6am. “MDMA and Guinness,” says Mo Chara. Rave, rebel songs and great tunes, all still central to what Kneecap are about.

“Kneecap was born of the need to represent that identity,” says Móglaí Bap. “[We were part of] this weird first group of young people in an urban setting in Belfast to really speak Irish together socially… sharing the words and the youth culture, and taking recreational drugs, and all that melded together.”

And using their own language to express what they want. Móglaí Bap set up an Irish-language festival – it’s how he and Mo Chara first met Próvaí, who came to speak – and he wrote a play in Irish about a young man being addicted to gambling, which he was for a while. “It’s about language and culture,” says Móglaí Bap. “There’s no point in having a united Ireland if it’s just about economics”.

Prior to getting to some reviews for Fine Art, there is one more interview that I want to get to. You should check out other interview with them. DIY featured KNEECAP in March. The trio explained how they want to unite people through their gigs and music. How language should not be a barrier at all:

“The record unleashes several killer collaborations, with Lankum, Fontaines DC’s Grian Chatten and Jelani Blackman among the many guests. “We wanted to show people that a group who rap predominantly in Irish can collab with a Black fellow from London and it works,” Mo explains. “We’re both from backgrounds that have been downtrodden for a long time. Also, Jelani is fucking incredible; he’s criminally underrated.”

After their access to arts funding was blocked by the UK's Business Secretary, we spoke to Belfast trio Kneecap about the significance of financial support for artists, freedom of speech, and what happens next.

The band will also embark on a North American tour and are due at big British festivals such as Reading & Leeds in the summer. “It’s an opportunity for us to inspire people and show them that the language isn’t a barrier,” says Móglaí. “You don’t even think about the Irish language when you’re going to our gigs – that’s why it’s amazing that we’re on the main stage of Leeds.”

Earlier this year at Sundance Film Festival, Sony Pictures bought the rights to Kneecap’s self-titled fictionalised biopic. With an as-yet-unannounced general release date, it’s the highest-budget Irish language film ever made and is every bit as bonkers as you’d expect. Though large parts are not, some scenes in the film are true: the band did perform their first gig full of their beloved 3CAG, and Próvaí did get fired as an Irish teacher for an on-stage photo of his bare arse, ‘BRITS OUT’ painted on each cheek.

Other narratives diverge from the band’s lives, but reflect contemporary issues in their world. A brooding Michael Fassbender plays Móglaí’s fictional father, a hardened IRA terrorist who fakes his own death. “Half the kids in my class, their parents were in the IRA,” says Móglaí. “I’m sure they suffered quite an amount when your parents are involved because it causes a lot of troubles and mental health issues. That PTSD is intergenerational.”

Unexpectedly, Kneecap have recently entered their most audacious act yet by suing the British government. Originally approved for a £15,000 grant under the Music Export Growth Scheme (which is jointly funded by the industry and government), it was overruled by the Tories at the last minute, claiming they didn’t want to give taxpayers’ money “to people that oppose the United Kingdom itself”. Kneecap have now legally challenged them for the “unlawful” decision. “I was loving it,” Mo declares. “Bringing the Tory government to court? You can’t put a price on that for PR.”

It’s a pivotal point in the story of both Kneecap and Northern Ireland. Just weeks ago, the Northern Ireland Assembly was finally restored after two years out of action, and the country gained its first ever nationalist First Minister, Michelle O’Neill. It’s one step closer to Kneecap’s vision of a better future for everyone. “People who went to private schools in London shouldn’t be making decisions based on young people’s lives on a completely different island with a completely different understanding of reality,” says Mo. “You’ve had enough of a chance at it, and you failed miserably. It’s time for an alternative.”

Kneecap are some of the most entertaining, provocative and savvy musicians around, and they’re determined to expose as many people as they can to their culture. It’s a cause close to their hearts, but at the end of the day, the rappers also just want to kick up their heels and enjoy the ride. “It’s time enough now that we can all take a step back and joke about it,” says Mo. “It’s been so serious here for so long that we wanted to do that with our music and have a fucking comedic look on it. We all know how to take a joke, we know how to toe the line. We’ll just keep doing what we do”.

Prior to wrapping up, it is worth getting to a couple of the (many) positive reviews for the simply brilliant Fine Art. I want to start off with a five-star salute from NME. I would be very surprised if Fine Art is not named album of the year by many sources! I have passed through it a couple of times and have been blown away. If you have not discovered the group then I would suggest you get involved now. They are still on the rise, but it is only a matter of time before they are festival headliners:

“Móglaí Bap and Mo Chara rap over DJ Próvaí’s intoxicating beats without ever losing your attention. Skipping between English and Irish, language is no barrier to a good time. Opener ‘3CAG’ (which stands for “3 chonsan agus guta”, Irish for “three consonants and a vowel”, that’s MDMA, kids) features Lankum’s Radie Peat to deliver a modern spin on soulful Irish folk before Kneecap tell you exactly who they are on the title track. Named after their two-word response to the media frenzy that followed their 2022 unveiling of a hometown mural that showed a Police Service of Northern Ireland jeep on fire, they fill in on the headlines from their favourite place, “in a dimly-lit shit run-down pub… seeing how high I can get on government funds”.

Between the skits and the bants, there are highs: the feral rush of cutting loose and buying a packet on payday on ‘I’m Flush’, the sweet R&B romance of ‘Love Making’, the trash meets tradition of ‘Drug Dealin Pagans’. But, as they spit on the profound ‘A Better Way To Live’ featuring Fontaines D.C.’s Grian Chatten, that’s only “the upside of the seesaw”. You gotta come down, too.

‘Sick In The Head’ points out how drugs and booze are ultimately cheaper than therapy (“I’m too far gone when it comes to mental health, rather be sick in the head with a little bit of wealth”). Tthe bittersweet ‘Way Too Much’ speaks of weighing up the release vs the aftermath, and ‘Rhino Ket’ is a nightmare race to the depths (“I can’t hold up my head, this shit puts rhinos to bed”). This is the poetry on the cubicle wall: sometimes funny, sometimes sad, sometimes aggravating, but it’s got your attention.

“This wall was built years ago to stop the Protestants on this side fighting with the Catholics on the other,” comes a quote from the ‘90s documentary Dancing On Narrow Ground on the clubby ‘Parful’, telling the story of how drugs and dancing helped bring some temporary peace in Ulster. “But every Saturday night, hundreds of people go out, just go out clubbing and forget about the divides between each other”. An ode to the abandon and unity that come from chain-smoking with your mates and getting lost in the rave, ‘Parful’ perhaps best captures ‘Fine Art’ and the spirit of Kneecap.

In the dark of the night out, the moment is all that matters and the rave will set you free. To shout that in a ‘dying’ language on a record that couldn’t sound any more alive? That’s power – and Kneecap have it”.

I am going to end with a review from Still Listening Magazine. It is interesting reading the various takes on Fine Art. What various people take away from one of the most important albums of this year. It is a mesmeric and unforgettable listen. I do think we should pay attention to the music coming from Northern Ireland. Whilst bands from the Republic of Ireland such as Fontaines D.C. are getting massive acclaim, do we spend that much time on Northern Ireland?! KNEECAP are putting the country back at the forefront:

“In their own words, KNEECAP basically started making music for the craic, releasing C.E.A.R.T.A. (Irish for “rights”) in 2017 without really expecting it to go anywhere. Local virality, raucous gigs, cult following, Tory condemnation, and an Audience Award at Sundance followed. Now, 7 years later, “Fine Art” has arrived. This is the Irish rap group’s sophomore record, following 2018’s “3cag”, the record is a considerable step up from any of their previous releases, with increased production value and more thematic cohesion while retaining the punk energy which, essentially, defines the group.

Told loosely through the story of a night out in Belfast, the album carries us through some meta-commentary, some anecdotal storytelling, and a dedication to the role of the rave scene in cross-community relations in the North of Ireland, all while looking introspectively at their use of recreational drugs.

Sonically, the record largely blends hip-hop (roughly half in Irish and half in English) with a variety of EDM genres, including house and rave. The first third of the album sees KNEECAP employ their trademark aggression and energy, epitomised by “I bhFiacha Linne”, which basically serves as roughly 3 minutes of threats towards anyone who owes Móglaí Bap and Mo Chara any money. From here, there is a shift towards some more conventional hip-hop, with singles “Better Way to Live” and “Sick in the Head”, which look at the effects of generational trauma on their drinking habits and mental health. Towards the end of the album, “Parful” and “Rhino Ket” then bring the mood back up, rave influencing the sound and the lyrics of these tracks.

Another notable factor in “Fine Art” is the interludes. I think it’s really easy for interludes to be used in a way which can detract from the momentum of an album, they can often fee a little intrusive. However, on this album, the result is quite the opposite. They’re short and sweet, help to tie the narrative together, and allow KNEECAP to showcase their sense of humour.

For me, “Harrow Road” is the strongest track on the record, which follows the only direct jab towards us Brits in “KNEECAP Chaps” (fans of “Get Your Brits Out” may be disappointed by this album). “Harrow Road” tells the story of Móglaí Bap getting lost in London after being dropped off in Wembley rather than on Harrow Road by a taxi driver. There’s a surprising amount of affection in this song, which I think also includes some of KNEECAP’s best flows, particularly from Mo Chara.

There is still room for improvement from this album though. While the blend of English and Irish makes for some unique and cleverly utilised rhymes, I think there are some lines which seem a little clumsy, possibly as a result of this record being written in full in a matter of weeks. I think this sticks out in the hooks for “I bhFiacha Linne” and “Sick in the Head”, where I think the line “I'm too far gone when it comes to mental health” is the worst example on the record. Moreover, I think it would be interesting to hear some slightly darker, possibly more industrial production on a KNEECAP. While pretty much all of these beats undoubtedly go hard, they do tow the line with being a little safe.

“Fine Art” is a real statement of intent as a record. Its energy is infectious, and I have found it really easy to obsess over basically every track on the album, which comes in part from the surprising amount of lyrical depth. Compared to their work in the late 2010s, this release is much more mature and confident, and I hope that they continue this upward trajectory”.

Whilst not a brand new band, I do think KNEECAP should be on everyone’s radar. Perhaps there are a few people who do not know about them. You can well see this band going from strength to strength to world domination! Maybe not as known and revered across Europe and the U.S. as they are in the U.K. that will all soon change! KNEECAP demand your attention, so ignore them…

AT your peril.

___________

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PHOTO CREDIT: Hannah McCallum/The Observer

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FEATURE: Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love at Thirty-Nine: After The Dreaming’s Release, a Chance for Refresh and Rest

FEATURE:

 

 

Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love at Thirty-Nine

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1983/PHOTO CREDIT: Brian Griffin

After The Dreaming’s Release, a Chance for Refresh and Rest

_________

ONE has to sympathise with Kate Bush…

as the majority of her career – well, up until 1993’s The Red Shoes – was defined by a work schedule that would burn most people out! Even between 1985’s Hounds of Love and 1989’s The Sensual World, she was packing a lot into that time. I want to focus on Hounds of Love, as it turns thirty-nine on 16th September. I have written about this before, but the period between Kate Bush completing 1982’s The Dreaming and starting work on Hounds of Love was one where she got back a sense of calm and stability. Of course, she was working for some of this time. The Dreaming was released in September 1982. Three years later, she would release her next album. The Dreaming was a hard album to make in a lot of ways. Such an intense period of creativity and production, Bush was clearly burned out an exhausted once it was completed. There was not a tonne of promotion, though she did keep busy during 1982 and there was a lot of travel and energy expended. The period after that was quite pivotal in regards how she approached her next album. Before getting to that, this website lays out what Kate Bush’s 1982 was like:

“March 1982

Kate finishes the overdubs and goes into the final mixing of the album. This session lasts two months.

April 1982

Kate's projected book Leaving My Tracks is shelved until early 1983.

The album's release date is put back to September for marketing reasons.

May 1982

The Dreaming album is completed, after a combined work period of more than sixteen months. Kate goes off to Jamaica for a holiday.

June 1982

Kate does some session work for Zaine Griff, who with her had attended Lindsay Kemp's mime classes back in 1976. She does backing vocals on a track dedicated to Kemp, called Flowers.

The release of the single The Dreaming is delayed.

The first issue of Homeground is prepared. 25 copies are run off on an office photocopier.

July 21, 1982

At 48 hours' notice Kate is asked to take David Bowie's place in a Royal Rock Gala before HRH The Prince of Wales in aid of The Prince's Trust. She performs Wedding List live, backed by Pete Townsend and Midge Ure on guitars, Mick Karn on bass, Gary Brooker on keyboards and Phil Collins on drums.

"The best moment by far was Kate Bush's number, a storming success..." (Sunie, Record Mirror)

July 27, 1982

The single The Dreaming is finally released, to excellent music press reviews saluting Kate's creative courage. The single is stifled, however, by the radio producers and presenters, particularly on BBC Radio 1, who will not play it. The plans for a twelve-inch version are aborted.

August 1982

Despite no daytime airplay on Radio 1, The Dreaming enters the singles chart, but peaks at number 48.

September 10, 1982

Kate appears live at a special Radio 1 Roadshow from Covent Garden Piazza to be interviewed briefly about her new album.

September 13, 1982

The album The Dreaming is released. Written, arranged and produced by Kate around the rhythm box and the Fairlight CMI. The radio programmers and most of the British reviewers are mystified. The album demands more of them than they can give.

September 14, 1982

Kate makes a personal appearance at the Virgin Megastore in London's Oxford Street. The queue again exceeds 100 yards in length.

Kate proceeds by train to Manchester, using a specially cleared goods car to rehearse for a video for the next single. In Manchester Kate records an interview for the BBC TV programme The Old Grey Whistle Test for use on the 17th, when the video for The Dreaming single is shown for the first time on British TV.

September 21, 1982

Kate makes an appearance on the commercial TV programme Razzmatazz, performing There Goes a Tenner, which is to be the next single.

The album enters the charts at number 3.

Kate goes on to Europe to promote the new album. In Munich she performs The Dreaming single [on Na Sowas -- the so-called "giant iguana" version] and is presented with a Gold Record for German sales of Never For Ever during the same television appearance.

The next stop is Milan, where Kate gives the first of four performances of The Dreaming single [on the Italian television programmes Happy Magic, Zim Zum Zam, Riva del Garda, and Disco-Ring.

[She may also have visited Spain during this trip, but I have no confirmation.]

October 1, 1982

Kate appears on the BBC TV programme Saturday Superstore to be interviewed about the new album.

Kate makes personal appearances in Glasgow, Newcastle and Birmingham. The album goes Gold.

October 8, 1982

While in Birmingham, Kate records an appearance on the BBC TV programme Pebble Mill at One, being interviewed by Paul Gambaccini about the new album. The interview is screened on October 29th, and part of the video for There Goes a Tenner is shown; the only time that this video is aired on British TV.

Kate is off again to France for more TV promotion of the album [including a lip-synch performance of Suspended in Gaffa, which is released as a single in Europe; and an in-depth interview for French TV station France-Inter]

November 1982

Kate is in Germany promoting album and single. [She gives a lip-synch performance of Suspended in Gaffa, known as the "puppets" or "marionettes" version]”.

You can see that it was a very busy time! Not a lot of time for rest and any form of recovery. After putting everything into The Dreaming, something had to change. One of the reasons why Hounds of Love is such a grand, ambitious, warm and accomplished album is because Kate Bush had time to recharge. Not to overstate and be too dramatic. Kate Bush was focused and this incredible producer in the studio. Outside of it, one wonders whether she had any sort of life at all. During The Dreaming, she would exist on takeaways for months. Not spending time to cook and relax, her time was spent getting quick meals in and not spending enough time unwinding. So professional and focused in the studio, it would have been so hard for her to relax and shift after a long day (and night) of recording. When she visited Jamaica in 1982, she found the silence and peace there deafening! That was in June. This verdant paradise, it was a real culture shock. In a relationship with Del Palmer, I can only imagine how difficult it was at times. They were with each other all of the time, so there would have been moments of tension and fallout. Supporting one another, I guess their relationship at that time was more professional than it was romantic. Bush not allowing herself much time for enjoying a physical relationship. Bush really did go all-out with promotion. She was becoming so involved with music videos too. Conceiving and co-directing The Dreaming’s title track video – her first solo direction was for Hounds of Love’s title track -, she balanced all this with interviews around the world. I will come to Hounds of Love very soon. It is worth noting how there was this speculation around Kate Bush. Rumours of weight gain and a drug habit in the press. If an artist was out of the public eye for a short time, there was this rumour mill! Kate Bush was not immune.

It is important to look at the lead-up to Hounds of Love’s recording and what was happening in Kate Bush’s life. 1982 and 1983 were crucial. The move to the countryside and her childhood home meant that she could return to the past. A simpler period. She knew that something had to change. Not only did she need a healthy period of creativity and recording. Recording out of different studios around London was expensive and gruelling. Financially able to build her own studio at her family home, Bush had this incredible period where she was writing, dancing and singing. A healthier diet, the influence and benefit of her family and a rural backdrop worked wonders. Bush wrote to her fan club in the summer of 1983 and noted how the year was like 1976. Aged seventeen/eighteen, that would have been when Bush was recording demos and only a year from entering the studio to record her debut studio album, The Kick Inside. 1983 was a year where she returned to East Wickham Farm and would write all night. There was, as Graeme Thomson notes in his book, Under the Ivy: The Life & Music of Kate Bush, similarities between Kate Bush and Peter Gabriel. He built his own studio at Ashcombe House. He and Bush worked on their fifth studio albums at more or less the same time. The year Hounds of Love was released was when Gabriel was working on So. Both masterpieces and career highs. It is no coincidence that autonomy and a bespoke studio was responsible for this amazing creativity and feeling of freedom! In the barn at the farm at East Wickham, Bush was returning to a place where she played the organ after school and would later work through Lionheart (her second studio album released in 1978) with the KT Bush Band. Designing the studio and with a blueprint in mind her father, Dr. Bush, also assisted with various parts of the studio. A hands-on approach that would have been a thrill. I don’t know if any photos exist of the studio being built!

One of the most shocking results of The Dreaming’s recording and release is that EMI almost returned it. There is a clause in many record contracts that a label can turn an album away or refuse to release it. They were close to doing that with The Dreaming! It is great that there was such a quick return and new lease of inspiration for Kate Bush. Bush played new tracks to Paul Hardiman (engineer) on 6th October, 1983. He engineered the first stages of the album. Impressed by what Kate Bush had created and what she and Del Palmer were putting together. From November 1983, sessions began for Hounds of Love. That whole year was a really important one. The building of the home studio and the way Bush was writing in a new way. A familiar environment gave her the strength and comfort to create in a far less stressful and constrained way. In terms of the recording for Hounds of Love, there were not the pressures of studio bills. Everything being judged on cost rather than merit. The fact Bush might have felt stressed trying to do so much in a short time so that she did not go too far over budget. Thirty-nine years ago, Bush’s most successful album came out. I will discuss the songs and the brilliance of the album in the next feature. What I did want to start with is talking about the background. How she was working on The Dreaming and promoted it quite a bit. Maybe less intense than years past, but she was working hard to put The Dreaming out there. The impact that this had on her. 1983 was a year where so much personal development occurred. In terms of her diet, working practice and routine. It was a much more warm and safe space. A different process that resulted in a very different album. I guess there was some concession to EMI and their need for something more commercial or accessible. Little did the label know what she was working on in 1983 and soon…

WHAT she would put into the world.

FEATURE: From Bad Seeds Grow Beautiful Blooms: Has Any Other Artist Achieved the Same Consistency as the Nick Cave-Led Band?

FEATURE:

 

 

From Bad Seeds Grow Beautiful Blooms

Has Any Other Artist Achieved the Same Consistency as the Nick Cave-Led Band?

_________

SOMETHING occurred to me…

IN THIS PHOTO: Bruce Springsteen photographed in July 2023/PHOTO CREDIT: Sergione Infuso/Corbis via Getty Images

when I saw a review for Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds’ new album, Wild God. Of course, when we look at reviews, we have to understand they are subjective. There are albums that get all positive reviews so you have to trust that wisdom of crowds. The collective acclaim. There are some that get mixed reviews. When it comes to Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds’ career, they have been going since 1984. That was when their debut album, From Her to Eternity, came out. Wild God comes out on 30th August. It is the band’s eighteenth album. Not only is that amount of albums impressive on its own. It is the consistency which is particularly stunning. Even if you have this niche sound and hit gold at the start, there is no guarantee that critics will love the same sound further down the line. Those artists that get acclaim consistently through the years always reinvent and move forward. There are not that many acts who have released eighteen albums. Any that do have a few blips. It is only natural. Think about an artist like Paul McCartney and his solo career. He has released eighteen studio albums. There have been those that received mixed reviews. Maybe his highs are better and more important than Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds’. And he was a Beatle! asked on Twitter who could match the band and I got a suggestion of Pet Shop Boys. At fifteen albums, they have released fewer than Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, and their Metacritic average – a collection of reviews averaged to get a score out of 100 – is a bit lower. I would imagine Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds to be in the 80s at least. Someone else suggests Bruce Springsteen as a challenger. Twenty-one albums in, there have been a lot of classics. Maybe three of his albums have not scored brilliant reviews. Another few have got mostly acclaim and a few mixed. If we add it all together, then he might be the closest to matching Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds’ scores/average - though you feel Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds will enjoy a better run in the next five or ten years.

There are a lot of questions and considerations. As I say, reviews are subjective. I am not a big Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds fan, and I would say I prefer the body of work from Madonna, Bob Dylan, Paul McCartney, Kate Bush – obviously – and other artists who have had long careers and released multiple albums. One has to respect a career without a bad album. One might say that the band has a brief period where they were not at their best. Think about 2001’s No More Shall We Pass and its follow-up, Nocturama. Neither of them bad albums, though the reviews were a little less than universally positive. Even so, the band followed up with 2004’s Abattoir Blues / The Lyre of Orpheus. That was a triumphant return to form. Some artists would tire and might have had this longer spell of average work. Think about all the greats who have spanned multiple decades and it always happens. There is no telling how long Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds will endure I suspect quite a few more years with the potential for multiple albums. I want to come to that review from The Guardian of Wild God and some things that were observed:

“The album’s songs don’t stint on darkness – pain, suffering and death all feature, including the passing of Cave’s former collaborator and partner Anita Lane – but suggest that life can still provide transcendent euphoria despite it all. The song about Lane is called O Wow O Wow (How Wonderful She Is): it’s gorgeously melodic, decorated with abstract smears of vocoder and a telephone recording of Lane giggling as she recalls their dissolute past, and deals in reverie rather than mourning. On Frogs, Cave walks home from church, pausing to look at a frog in the gutter: “leaping to God, amazed of love, amazed of pain, amazed to be back in the water again.” Even if it doesn’t get far, the song seems to suggest, that’s not the point: the point is to keep leaping.

The music follows suit. Cave has reconvened the Bad Seeds – who seemed a little surplus to requirements among Ghosteen’s beatless drifts and who didn’t appear at all on Carnage, an album credited to Cave and Ellis alone. Wild God deftly melds the meditative, flowing sound of its immediate predecessors with the band’s trademark muscularity (one of the enduring mysteries of Cave’s career is how a band that’s seen something like 23 different musicians pass through its ranks over the years, always sounds like the Bad Seeds regardless). The result is a set of songs that feel simultaneously airy and teeming, not least with a preponderance of glowing melodies. They frequently surge into vast, ecstatic exhalations – there’s a fantastic moment near the end of Song of the Lake, where Thomas Wydler’s drums, which have previously moved things along at a stately, measured pace, suddenly burst into a series of gleeful, clattering rolls. Or the mood flips completely: Conversion initially sounds haunted and stark, before exploding into life midway through in a mass of voices singing and chanting, Cave’s extemporised vocal sounding increasingly rapturous over the top.

The title track, meanwhile, is similarly joyful, although lyrically oblique. One way you could read it is as a sardonic self-portrait, rock’s former Prince of Darkness in his late 60s (“It was rape and pillage in the retirement village”), grappling with the dramatic shift in perception that Cave has undergone over the last decade as it builds to an explosive, cathartic climax, bolstered by choir and orchestra. Said climax seems to reaffirm his faith in the transformative power of music and communality: “If you’re feeling lonely and if you’re feeling blue, and if you just don’t know what to do,” he cries, “bring your spirit down!”

If that’s indeed what that song is saying, the point is underlined by the album as a whole. Packed with remarkable songs, its mood of what you might call radical optimism is potent and contagious. You leave it feeling better than you did previously: an improving experience, in the best sense of the phrase”.

Rather than this being a casual observation of such a positive review for a band who keep on getting them, I have been thinking about that sense of longevity and what makes a band like Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds an exception to a rule. What is it about their songwriting and albums that means they continue to wow critics. It is not a case of them not selling. They are a massive commercial success too. They bring in new fans but hang on to their existing ones. Each album offers something new. There is definitely something in their discography that is rare. Almost unique. I am trying to think of another artist who has released eighteen or more albums and maybe only had two of them score anything less than universal acclaim. It is hard to think of anyone else. Is it possible in a modern music scene to establish that sort of acclaim and solidity?! To have your albums constantly reach new levels of excellence. I guess some might say Taylor Swift could match that. She is in her thirties still and her debut album came out in 2006. A career half as long as a band like Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, she could go for a couple more decades and achieve something almost impossible. I don’t think that even a modern megastar like Swift could keep that record. That run of wonderful albums. Maybe a band like Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds have a sound that is distinctly away from the mainstream. It is not beyond the realms of plausibility that an artist could build a charge and really stands alongside Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. In a modern climate – with so much competition and many artists taking big risks and sometimes falling short -, is there any way we could see this golden run?! I am not sure. I was reflecting on the latest work from Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds and how it will like scoop many more five-star reviews. Their past three or four albums definitely have. What next for them?! Probably sticking close to the sound of Wild God, I do feel they are going to keep on grabbing the hearts of critics. Forty years after their debut and eighteen albums-deep, this is a body of work almost unmatched in music history. It is exciting what comes next for…

THE Australian legends.

FEATURE: Kate Bush’s Never for Ever at Forty-Four: Celebrating a Record-Setting Album

FEATURE:

 

 

Kate Bush’s Never for Ever at Forty-Four

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush photographed attending the British Rock and Pop Awards in February 1980/PHOTO CREDIT: Syndication/Mirrorpix/Getty Images

Celebrating a Record-Setting Album

_________

IT is not often now…

where you will get artists setting records for an album’s achievements. In terms of the sales and weeks at number one. You feel that everything that could happen regarding setting records has already been done. Kate Bush has set a few in her time. In 2014, Bush became the first woman to have eight of her albums in the Official Albums Chart at the same time. That was after the success of Before the Dawn. Take it back to 1978 when she became the first U.K. female artist to have a number one single with a self-written song. Someone whose sheer originality, talent and timeless appeal and popularity means that you can not bet against Bush setting another record. It is no surprise that there was this momentum after Wuthering Heights went to number one. Her first two albums, 1978’s The Kick Inside and Lionheart, both went into the top ten of the U.K. album chart. Maybe it was a matter of time before Kate Bush got a number one album (I am referring to the U.K., as The Kick Inside reached number one in a couple of nations). She reached number one in 1985 with Hounds of Love. The same in 1986 with The Whole Story (her greatest hits collection). The Sensual World, The Red Shoes, and Director’s Cut reached number two. All of her studio albums have reached the top ten albums charts here. If some albums have not got huge critical acclaim or have been slightly overlooked, that is not the case when it comes to the public. As far as EMI were concerned, like any record label, it is sales and commercial success that means the most. They are not necessarily looking at reviews and seeing those as a mark of success and achievement. All the same, there was something amiss after the release of Never for Ever on 8th September 1980.

I maintain Bush’s third studio album is her most underrated. It is one of her best. Contemporary reviews were a mixture of positive and some more reserved or less positive takes. To be fair, most of the reviews were encouraging. That was a step up from the more muted response to Lionheart. It was clear Kate Bush was inspired keen to move her sound on. Never for Ever has familiar strands and sounds, yet it was a bigger and more ambitious album compared to her first two. A wider sound and lyrical palette. If there was this exhaustion after Never for Ever’s release that carried into The Dreaming, there was probably a more positive energy going from The Tour of Life into Never for Ever. Even though Bush was tired, there was that energy and desire to create an album following time on the road. You can hear the passion and inspiration through the album. The promotion for Never for Ever was fairly intense. Over the following week after its release, Kate Bush undertook a record signing tour of the U.K. One of the most notable examples of the acclaim and popularity she had from fans was at Oxford Street, London. There were massive queues of fans waiting to get the album signed. Bush then visited Europe to promote Never for Ever. The album entered the U.K. album chart on 20th September, 1980. It reached number one. It held that position for only a week, yet it was in the chart for a long time. It was the first ever album by a British female solo artist to top the U.K. album chart, as well as being the first album by any female solo artist to enter the chart at number one. In 1980, that seems extraordinary!

Kate Bush had come from a hugely adored and acclaimed tour and into the studio where that momentum continued. Never for Ever reached number one. Setting a record and with this huge fanbase with her, I do think that EMI should have had more faith. Consider the fact they were not keen on Bush’s solo-producing The Dreaming. I don’t think it was concern for her mental health or a feeling she might get buried. I feel there was this doubt around her ability and talent. As she was co-producer – with Jon Kelly – on a number one album, why were there any barriers?! I do feel there was hesitancy from EMI for Bush to produce Hounds of Love as The Dreaming did not perform as commercially well as Never for Ever. It got to number three but did have some mixed reviews. I still think there was some reluctance for EMI to let Bush take on the challenge of The Dreaming. She was still very young, though she had more than proved herself. How much personal care and conversation was there?! EMI wanted Bush to promote Never for Ever as much as possible and take it to as many people as possible. I didn’t hear of any particular reward from EMI following Bush’s record-setting number one album. In terms of a budget and supporting their artist, I do keep thinking it would have been great if EMI celebrated Never for Ever’s success and did show more love to Kate Bush. Perhaps they did. However, I get the feeling that there was not a huge amount of allowance. If they ‘allowed’ Bush to produce The Dreaming, they were still strict about completion time. Released two years after Never for Ever, that feeling that she still needed to produce albums every year. Shouldn’t such a commercial success like Never for Ever have meant Bush was more than a commodity or someone who was making the label money?! It doesn’t sit too easy!

Regardless, we need to recognise the significance of Never for Ever’s success. It sounds like it was a great and productive time. With Bush stepping into the producer role, it was this breakthrough. Kate Bush being recognised as this extraordinary talent. Her first album where she was producer going to number one in the U.K. is impressive! I do feel that this sort of success should have seen EMI doing a bit more. Allowing Bush a bit more time to make an album. Not feeling like Bush was taking too much time. I will wrap up in a minute. The Kate Bush Encyclopedia collated interviews where Bush spoke about Never for Ever. Bush pleased that she was producing and had more control over her own work:

“For me, this was the first LP I’d made that I could sit back and listen to and really appreciate. I’m especially close to Never For Ever. It was the first step I’d taken in really controlling the sounds and being pleased with what was coming back. I was far more involved with the overall production, and so I had a lot more freedom and control, which was very rewarding. Favourite tracks? I guess I’d have to say ‘Breathing’ and ‘The Infant Kiss’.

Women of Rock, 1984

From here on there are big progressive steps. I was starting to take control at this point, making sure I had enough time and getting involved in production.

Love, Trust and Hitler. Tracks (UK), November 1989”.

On 8th September, it will be forty-four years since Never for Ever was released. It was a turning point. From there on, Bush knew that she wanted to produce. The Dreaming was her first solo production, though it is clear that recording Never for Ever was hugely important and had some wonderful moments. It is a brilliant album that contains three of her most successful and strongest singles – Breathing, Babooshka and Army Dreamers.

I think more should be written and said about Never for Ever. The context. Those four months between the end of The Tour of Life and working on the album. The four months after and going into The Dreaming. In fact, Bush started recording The Dreaming the same month Never for Ever was released. That sense of her releasing an album and then almost having to be straight into the studio to follow it. Not really allowed time to chill out and enjoy success. That is something that gets to me. How much of that decision to make another album was Bush’s?! That sense of promoting one album and recording another one was something she faced in 1978. EMI really should have said to Bush to take time out. I would love to have heard conversations after Never for Ever went to number one. Whether it was Kate Bush or EMI that drove the conversation around making an album straight away. Or beginning recording at least! I want to end with a nice segment The Quietus’s feature from 2020. They marked forty years of Never for Ever and opened the feature with these words:

“No one was safe once Kate Bush arrived at Abbey Road, not even the people in the canteen. Sessions on 1980’s Never For Ever were fun but punishingly long, especially when she and her band spent hours playing with their freaky new toy, a Fairlight CMI digital sampler. One day, they smashed all the studio’s crockery and recorded the different timbres of each shattering cup and glass, just so they could play an arpeggio of breaking-shard samples on ‘Babooshka’. It sounded incredible, but not everyone thought the effect justified the means: the kitchen staff were so appalled, writes Graeme Thomson in his fascinating biography Under The Ivy, that Bush apparently grovelled for forgiveness with Belgian chocolates.

Maybe the final confectionery-based detail in that anecdote is too good to be true, just like the apocryphal tale of Bush inviting an excited EMI bigwig to her house to show him what she’d been working on during a long, mysterious hiatus, only to then present him with some freshly baked cakes. What is beyond doubt, though, is how much hard graft went into her third album, and what a huge turning point it proved to be. Despite being overshadowed by what followed, it’s the start of her transformation into a one-of-a-kind auteur, the record that made her later, greater glories possible. Tired of EMI’s conveyor-belt approach to rushing out LPs, Bush assumed more ownership in the studio and changed the way she made music forever. “The whole thing was so satisfying,” she enthused in 1980. “To actually have control of my baby for the first time.” Forty years later, it’s no less significant: Never For Ever isn’t Bush’s best album, but it might well be the most important”.

There is a lot more to explore when it comes to Never for Ever. Its amazing eleven songs. The shift from Bush being produced by someone else to going on tour and heading into the studio to produce. The impact and relevance of her reaching number one. How it set the course for the rest of her career. It was a new phase and chapter. Bush not discarding her first two albums…though there was this feeling that she really had to produce and control her own work. If some see Never for Ever as transition to her peak and mere promise rather than brilliance, I think that Never for Ever is…

STILL an underrated classic.

FEATURE: Kate Bush’s The Dreaming at Forty-Two: Technological Leaps and Invention

FEATURE:

 

 

Kate Bush’s The Dreaming at Forty-Two

Technological Leaps and Invention

_________

I am looking forward to…

 IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1982/PHOTO CREDIT: Steve Rapport

marking the forty-second anniversary of one of Kate Bush’s best albums. On 13th September, 1982, she released The Dreaming. Recorded between September 1980 and May 1982, this was Bush’s most intensely focused period of work to date. Her most ambitious, focused, layered and detailed album, it was her producing solo for the first time. As such, this was Bush’s most personal, committed and revealing album to that point. I love the fact that she had this desire to really put herself into the album. Discovering the Fairlight CMI during recording of Never for Ever, it was very much at the forefront of The Dreaming. Opened to its endless possibilities, I want to go more into this side of the album for the first of a couple of features to mark The Dreaming’s forty-second anniversary. I think that Peter Gabriel’s influence was a big reason why technology and the Fairlight CMI was a big focal point. There was another artist who really opened the floodgates and started the process of The Dreaming’s recording. I shall come to that. First, the Kate Bush Encyclopedia has collated interviews where Bush spoke about The Dreaming:

“Kate about ‘The Dreaming’

After the last album, ‘Never For Ever’, I started writing some new songs. They were very different from anything I’d ever written before – they were much more rhythmic, and in a way, a completely new side to my music. I was using different instruments, and everything was changing; and I felt that really the best thing to do would be to make this album a real departure – make it completely different. And the only way to achieve this was to sever all the links I had had with the older stuff. The main link was engineer Jon Kelly. Everytime I was in the studio Jon was there helping me, so I felt that in order to make the stuff different enough I would have to stop working with Jon. He really wanted to keep working with me, but we discussed it and realised that it was for the best.

‘The Dreaming’. Poppix (UK), Summer 1982

Yes, it’s very important for me to change. In fact, as soon as the songs began to be written, I knew that the album was going to be quite different. I’d hate it, especially now, if my albums became similar, because so much happens to me between each album – my views change quite drastically. What’s nice about this album is that it’s what I’ve always wanted to do. For instance, the Australian thing: well, I wanted to do that on the last album, but there was no time. There are quite a few ideas and things that I’ve had whizzing around in my head that just haven’t been put down. I’ve always wanted to use more traditional influences and instruments, especially the Irish ones. I suppose subconsciously I’ve wanted to do all this for quite some time, but I’ve never really had the time until now.

‘The Dreaming’. Poppix (UK), Summer 1982”.

I can understand the impetus for Kate Bush to focus on a studio album following 1980’s Never for Ever. About four months passed between the release of Never for Ever and her starting work on The Dreaming. It was quite a tough time for Bush. Considering the fact she started working on Never for Ever not long after 1979’s The Tour of Life and the same short period of time between Never for Ever coming out and beginning her fourth album, there was not a huge amount of gas in the tank. That period after Never for Ever was quite empty and unusual. A sort of introverted depression, she would try and sit at the piano to write and nothing would come out. Buying a property in Eltham, London, after Never for Ever’s release, it was a cosy if not luxurious part of London not far from the family home at East Wickham Farm. That combination of being close to the comfort of home but in her own space, it was a sensible base. Her brother Paddy moved in next door. There was family and support around her. Thanks to Graeme Thomson and his book, Under the Ivy: The Life and Music of Kate Bush, for being a guide and inspiration for this feature. Bush installed her own eight-track demo studio in her house. With equipment including a Yamaha CS-80 and piano around her, it was a creative hub. If ideas for Houidini and The Dreaming were developed using Never for Ever, it was Stevie Wonder who helped end a sort of temporary writer’s block. When Kate Bush and Del Palmer saw him perform in September 1980 at Wembley Arena, Bush was awed by his sheer energy and stamina. That electricity inspired her to write Sat in Your Lap.

The Fairlight CMI was pivotal when it came to The Dreaming’s palette. Hiring one from Syco Systems to start, she then invested in her own by the end of The Dreaming. She was not alone when it came to embracing that technology. In the early-1980s, there were a wave of Synth-Pop artists who were melding electronics and keyboards. Technology and synthesisers. This futuristic sound. Something new and exciting. Steve Lillywhite, Peter Gabriel’s producer at the time, and Hugh Padgham, who was an engineer on The Dreaming, knew that the friendship between Gabriel and Bush was strong. They connected and were pulled together during a benefit concert for Bill Duffield during The Tour of Life. Bush featured on Peter Gabriel’s third self-titled album in 1980. Inspired by working at his Townhouse studio space and seeing the technology play there, you can feel how that pushed her during The Dreaming. Bush and Gabriel did try and write a song together, Ibiza, but it was not satisfactory or finished. The consoles, drumming sounds, acoustics and sounds being created at Townhouse piqued Bush’s imagination and interest. It was her own creativity and curiosity that makes The Dreaming so immersive and original. Taking that initial seed and starting point and moving in all directions. It does seem like The Dreaming was an unhappy process. Pushing her music to limits and spending tireless hours searching for all sorts of rare and unusual sounds. If a longer break after The Tour of Life might have benefited her more in terms of energy and mental health, The Dreaming would have been a very different album.

I think it is such an accomplished and stunning album because of the commitment Kate Bush put in. Her songwriting was clearly in a different place. There was fantasy, escape and a sense of the ethereal on Never for Ever. Some harder-hitting songs though, for the most part, there is a lightness and airiness to many of the songs. A higher pitch. The Dreaming is a deeper, denser and harder-hitting album. Percussion very much at the core. Angrier, more propulsive and deeper, you get a sense of Kate Bush using technology to filter a combination of restlessness, post-tour comedown; the need to prove herself as a solo producer and show that she could not be easily defined. Shake off tags ands lazy criticism being levied at her. Showing that she was a serious artist. I do love how she was very much in tune with changes at the time. How the start of the 1980s beckoned in this new technology and sound. At her house in London, it was this moment where Bush was stepping away from home and that comfort and embracing multiple studios. The Dreaming was recorded at Advision, Odyssey, Abbey Road Studios and Townhouse. With the Yamaha CS-80 playing a big part of There Goes a Tenner and the Fairlight CMI being present on nearly every track  - except Pull Out the Pin and Suspended in Gaffa -, this was a turning point. The Dreaming was that transition between her piano-based first two albums, the mix of piano and technology on Never for Ever, and pushing things to new heights on 1985’s Hounds of Love. A whole new world was opened up! Kate Bush’s music so radically different to anything she had produced before. If she felt The Dreaming was an album where it seemed like she went a bit mad, it was still a chart success and gained a lot of critical acclaim – even if its singles were not really successful. The biggest takeaway from The Dreaming is Bush excelling as a producer. In terms of what she created and how she embraced and personalised technology of the time. In terms of its layers, sounds, themes and extraordinary palette, I don’t think that The Dreaming has been equalled. Turning forty-two on 13th September, I wanted to celebrate Kate Bush’s…

MAGNIFICENT fourth studio album.

FEATURE: The Tracks of My Years: My Favourite Singles of 2024 So Far

FEATURE:

 

 

The Tracks of My Years

IN THIS PHOTO: Little Simz/PHOTO CREDIT: Karolina Wielocha

My Favourite Singles of 2024 So Far

_________

I have just put out…

IN THIS PHOTO: Laura Marling/PHOTO CREDIT: Tamsin Topolski

a playlist featuring songs from the best albums by women this year. I wanted to do another ‘best of’ compilation. This one is my favourite singles from this tear so far. Featuring those you know and others you might not, there is this eclectic mix of styles and artists. It has been a really strong and varied year for singles. I suspect that we will get more than our fair share of awesome singles before the year is done. It has been wonderful discovering new artists and their amazing tracks. Also hearing wonderful singles from legends and established artists. Such a rich year for music. To honour that, the playlist below sits them alongside one another. You might have your own views and opinions as to which singles are the best. I might have left some out, so suggestions and additions are always welcome! Here are singles released this year that have lingered…

IN THIS PHOTO: SARA/PHOTO CREDIT: Greta Larosa

LONG in the memory.

FEATURE: The Digital Mixtape: Tracks from the Best Albums By Female Artists of 2024

FEATURE:

 

 

The Digital Mixtape

IN THIS PHOTO: Beyoncé shot for ESSENCE March/April 2024/PHOTO CREDIT: Andre D. Wagner 

Tracks from the Best Albums By Female Artists of 2024

_________

I have done this a few times…

IN THIS PHOTO: The cover of Beth Gibbons’ album, Lives Outgrown

before, in the sense of compiling a playlist of songs from the best albums by women. I try and do it a couple of times a year. Highlighting the brilliant queens who are releasing the finest albums around. One cannot deny that for years now, the very best albums have been by women! Rather than dividing and labelling – ‘albums by women’ – or giving them their own genre, I wanted to spotlight the simply amazing work out there. The music industry is still hugely slow in creating balance and recognition of women. Right across the board. It is at odds with the hugely proliferation of awesome and original albums by women. This year has been no exception. The quality has been right up there! Maybe not quickly reflected in terms of playlists and festival bookings, one hopes that the kudos and acclaim that these albums have received means all of these artists get their reward and recognition very soon. That women throughout the industry are giving the respect and attention they deserve! There are some real gems in this playlist. Albums from some astonishing artists. Apologies for missing any out at all that should be in there. As we have four months left of the year, I will do another feature in December that looks at all the great albums from women in 2024. Now, as we are bidding farewell to summer, another opportunity to salute the queens. The songs below are from sensational albums…

BY some absolutely brilliant women.

FEATURE: Cross That Line: Segregation and Division in the Music Industry

FEATURE:

 

 

Cross That Line

IN THIS PHOTO: Tinashe

Segregation and Division in the Music Industry

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I often think about the music industry…

PHOTO CREDIT: Penda Kamati/Pexels

and whether it has improved rapidly and markedly as it should. In terms of interaction, battling discrimination and division. Thinking of women in the industry, there is still so much misogyny and sexism. Very slowly moving towards equality. I do hope I live to see a day when women feel safe, accepted and valued in the music industry. Get the opportunities they deserve in terms of equal pay and exposure. Get festival headline slots and as much time on radio playlists across the board. Are not subjected to harassment and abuse. I don’t think as much has been done as possible to tackle that from the government. Even if racism within the industry is not quite as extreme or widespread as it was in years past, it is clear there is still segregation and labelling. Black artists being divided and separated from white artists on playlists and in genres. I have been thinking this after reading a recent interview from Tinashe. Speaking with The Guardian, she was very frank and open about her career. How she had face misogyny and RCA forced her into working with R Kelly and Chris Brown. What a potentially poisonous move that could have been! The real lack of respect and appreciation for Tinashe. Something a lot of women in music have to endure. This very toxic environment. The fact that she was almost made to work with predatory and abusive men. Tinashe also noted how there is this segregation and racial division:

“Despite trying to ignore much of the music industry, Tinashe still has a strong handle on its mechanics, and feels that it wouldn’t know what to do with her – a Black artist looking to make genreless pop, not just R&B or rap – if she debuted today. “There’s still a lot of segregation in the industry,” she says. “When it comes to playlists, award shows, who works on your music, how they promote you, it’s very black and white, literally.”

And Tinashe still feels she’s fighting an uphill battle when it comes to her own career – despite the huge success of Nasty. “In terms of being able to build to a huge place, a real mainstream-machine type role, that still is very much gate-kept,” she says, letting out a withering laugh. “It’s hard to achieve as somebody who isn’t playing in those systems”.

It is very true that, when it comes to artists of colour, they are promoted and marketed very differently. In terms of who they work with too. Tinashe is living proof of that. You still see so many playlists on radio and streaming services where Black artists are compiled together and often separated. Especially when it comes to genre-specific playlists. Maybe unconscious racism, things are very much black and white. Very few Black artists given the same budget and attention as white counterparts. When it comes to the mainstream and getting the sort of focus and hype as other artists, there does seem to be this segregation there. Tinashe has hit on something that has been present in music for decades. If you look at the mainstream today and the artists getting the most attention and spotlight, you can see this division. There are amazing Black artists heralded and supported, though very few pushed to the top levels. So much more of a struggle for them to achieve the same sort of adulation and respect as other artists. Music charts especially have been segregated for so long. I was reading this 2021 articles from The Guardian, where Kelefa Sanneh (author of the book, Major Labels) talked about this more:

“The more a genre evolves and sprawls, the harder it is to define its essence. Disappointingly for anyone who cherishes border-crossing artists such as Sly Stone, Prince and the Specials, Sanneh shows that these distinctions usually come down to race: country and rock are deemed to be whatever white people like, while hip-hop and R&B are whatever Black people enjoy. Two years ago, there was furious debate about Billboard’s decision to remove Lil Nas X’s country-trap smash from its country chart because it lacked “enough elements of today’s country music in its current version”. Lil Nas X responded: “A black guy who raps comes along, and he’s on top of the country chart, it’s like, ‘What the fuck?’”

“Our music charts are still kind of segregated because our country is still kind of segregated,” Sanneh says. “There are upsides and downsides to this. In America, Black people are 12% of the population so if every genre was diverse in a way that reflected the population of the country, Black people would be a small minority of listeners in every genre. It’s easy to say that country music should be diversified but it’s harder when you look at R&B.”

Sanneh is adept at disrupting simple binaries; his typical argument is a supple chain of “but…”. He says: “It’s important to me not to reduce any music story to good guys and bad guys.” On the hot topic of cultural appropriation, the man for whom Paul Simon’s Graceland was a unifying family soundtrack questions what we mean by ownership of culture. “Once you start thinking about cultural appropriation in music, it’s hard to think where you would stop. Even if you grow up in hip-hop, there’s going to be stuff you hear later that is not part of your childhood. When Notorious BIG released Big Poppa he was borrowing from the sound of west coast hip-hop. Broadly defined, cultural appropriation is absolutely everywhere”.

Thinking about articles like this from 2020 and this in 2021, has there been much progress?! When you look at award ceremonies and there are entire genres defined by white artists. Black artists usually defined and labelled as Soul or R&B. Country music has been very slow in assimilating and accepting Black artists. The Pop mainstream still struggles. So many areas of music segregate and define. We live in a time when fewer Black artists are given headline slots. In terms of the artists that are given the most airplay and focus by the industry. If things are slowly improving, it is clear that it is a struggle for so many artists. Tinashe being an example. New artists coming through and looking at the landscape. How genres and playlists have this bias towards white artists or will often lazily label Black artists. What she said about gate-keeping and how it is also hard to get to the mainstream if you are genre-less or do not play he game or fit the ideal. With racism and discrimination still widespread in music how easy is it to change things effectively and quickly?! There is a lot to think about and tackle. Something that is so deep-rooted is hard to correct overnight. With artists calling it out, there does need to be action. Award shows accused of racial bias and tokenism, things are not really progressing and improving as fast as they should. It is a deep and challenging subject that deserves more investigation and discussion. Tinashe’s words about her experiences will resonate with so many of her peers. That feeling of segregation. Fewer opportunities to get to the mainstream. These barriers in place if you are an artist who is independent and does not want to compromise their sound and identity. For an industry still not doing enough for women and artists of colour, addressing the issues it still has around race and segregation should be…

A huge priority.

FEATURE: Boulevard of Broken Dreams: Green Day’s American Idiot at Twenty

FEATURE:

 

 

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Green Day’s American Idiot at Twenty

_________

EVEN if it doesn’t…

turns twenty until 21st September, I wanted to celebrate an important album. Green Day’s American Idiot might be their best work. The U.S. band’s seventh studio album, it came four years after Warning. It was quite a time away for them. Although there had been compilations in the gap, this was fresh material. Something much more charged and political. The terrorist attacks of 11th September in 2001 has altered a lot of the musical landscape in terms of what was being written. The presidency of George W. Bush. It was definitely a time that inspired something angry from Green Day. Although there are depths and different shades on American Idiot, the title refers to where their thoughts were. Reacting to the politics and consumerism of the time, there was another album due after Warning. Cigarettes and Valentines had its master tapes stolen. American Idiot was a career revival and transformation. Green Day reacting to the Iraq War and the growing disillusionment in the U.S. A concept album around Jesus of Suburbia, a lower-middle-class American adolescent anti-hero. The first time Green Day included transitions between songs. Joining two tracks into one and having longer tracks. It as an ambitious album that was met with critical acclaim. There will be debate as to which Green Day album is best. Many fans like the earlier work. Dookie (1994) or even Nimrod (1997). To me and many others, American Idiot is Green Day’s crowning achievement. I want to come to an article from Alternative Press. In 2016, they argued why American Idiot is the best Green Day album:

“Many people argue that Green Day’s greatest work is their 1994 hit Dookie.  It’s the record that put them on the map and hosts some of their most iconic songs, even to younger generations. (I once saw a 12-year-old get on stage during the band’s 99 Revolutions Tour and belt the entire third verse of “Longview,” a song about boredom and masturbation.) While Dookie is sonically a punk album, it was still incredibly commercial, dominating radio airwaves and MTV.  It’s a solid pop-punk record that will continue to affect generations to come. However, for the most part, Dookie is pretty static. It’s a surface card at best, whereas American Idiot hosts a lyrical depth that convinced me that breaking into a classroom at 2 a.m. was a good idea. I still think it was a good idea—there’s nothing more rock ‘n’ roll than rebellion.

American Idiot was Green Day’s first album that was truly rock ‘n’ roll, a characteristic that Dookie, Insomniac, Nimrod and even Warning lack.  Pulling from themes set forth by the Who’s Tommy and the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Green Day embarked on their first rock opera concept record. It was also their first record to openly address and critique the politics of the time. This shift in sound and attitude allowed for a punk mentality told through a rock album more openly accessible to the public, a public who happened to be living in a post-9/11 era looking for a scapegoat.

People wanted to let loose from the stress of the day-to-day pressures presented in a time of mass paranoia and overwrought propaganda. A rock album with iconic, blasting riffs was a simple musical remedy that consumers could easily relate to. But it’s never been the politics in American Idiot that made it so great, though it definitely helped. In fact, there’s really only two politically charged tracks on the album: the title track and “Holiday.” That leaves 11 other movements to shape the story.

So what is this story that makes this release so substantial? It’s an outline of America during 2004. We meet the stereotypical “American idiot” trapped in a culture so invested in materialism, capitalism and war that the general public is seemingly blind to everything else. “Now everybody do the propaganda!” frontman Billie Joe Armstrong commands as if it were just another dance fad. We then meet the cliché suburban youth: the aptly named Jesus of Suburbia. During the huge five-part song of the same name, the album delivers its thesis statement: this is a coming of age story.  Jesus is tired of his humdrum life and seeks adventure by moving into the city, leaving his small, safe world behind. He travels to his metropolis only to be overwhelmed by this new lifestyle (“Holiday”). He endures the hangover and wants to find himself (“Boulevard Of Broken Dreams,” “Are We The Waiting”). He discovers his many vices (“St. Jimmy,” “Give Me Novacaine”). He finds love, or infatuation depending on how you view it, (“She’s A Rebel,” “Extraordinary Girl”) before realizing who he really is and decides to bring himself home (or at least back to reality) (“Homecoming”).  American Idiot is basically “SLC Punk! The Album” sans Heroin Bob.

And yet, this coming of age story we’ve heard “a million and one fucking times” resonates with listeners on a much different level than any Green Day record prior, because, unlike Dookie, it is progressive as well as timeless. American Idiot evolves in meaning and content with the listener as the listener works through his/her own life. It is relevant for the current generation, the one that consumed it in 2004 and the future listeners’ generation that will discover and grow up with the record as life carries on. Teen angst is a monumental part of maturing that is perfectly encapsulated in the first half of the record’s story through the origins of Jesus of Suburbia, but also captured sonically via the majority of the songs. As noted earlier, American Idiot fucking rocks. It hits hard and kids like their music loud, whether they understand the context or not.

In American Idiot, there’s a lyrical sophistication that Green Day taps into seldom seen in any of their other records. They take lines like “I’m not part of your elite/I’m just alright” (“Stuck With Me,” Insomniac) and turn them into “And there’s nothing wrong with me/This is how I’m supposed to be/In a land of make believe/That don’t believe in me” (“Jesus Of Suburbia”). The character St. Jimmy doesn’t just “get high high high/when he’s low low low” (“Misery,” Warning) he becomes “the needle in the vein of the establishment” and the “suicide commando that your momma talked about” (“St. Jimmy”). Problems extend past bored afternoons filled with porn and weed in the ‘90s to severe drug addiction, heartbreak, loss of self, cultural constraints and all the other bullshit today’s set society is forced to endure on a daily/weekly/monthly basis. Green Day are snarky: They’re telling the listener welcome to reality, the real American dream, the land of the free while also asking, “Is that a possibility?”

This dichotomy of resolution and reflection has always been a key factor of the record. After you get dumped and get through the Taylor Swift stage where your whole world feels like it’s crashing down, go listen to “Whatsername.” It’s the perfect summary of the numb feeling you get thinking about your ex, vaguely remembering the good times you had and the void you’ve partially filled without them. The whole song itself becomes a metaphor for looking back on what you’ve done in life and accepting the bad, taking notes of the regrets but moving on and moving forward because you have to. When Armstrong says, “This is the dawning of the rest of our lives” (on “Holiday”) he means it. Once you set forth, there is no going back to the innocence you once had. And that (though it may not seem like it) is a damn good thing”.

I will end with a couple of reviews for the fantastic American Idiot. I am keen to highlight this feature Pop Matters. They took us inside the album. Exploring the tracks. Even if Holiday is my favourite from American Idiot, one cannot deny the potency and power of the title track. So iconic and truthful. One of Green Day’s best songs. I think American Idiot still sounds relevant today. It is an album that should have made us think and change. I wonder how much we actually learned:

“Before 2004, few people would classify Green Day’s music as particularly sophisticated, intellectual, or thematically mature. Sure, “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life),” with its poignancy, fragility, and beautiful orchestration, quickly became the introspective acoustic ballad of a generation, and fun singles like “When I Come Around” and “Basket Case” were amongst the catchiest mainstream songs of their era. However, for the most part, the ’90s saw Green Day dominating the airwaves as little more than a premier punk rock group. The band emblemized a contemporary take on the rowdy counterculture retaliation of ’70s icons like the Clash. While it did an excellent job of it (don’t get me wrong), no one ever expected the trio to branch out of its preset genre limitations stylistically, conceptually, or technically.

But then came American Idiot, and everything changed. Part social commentary and part fictional narrative, the record came out of nowhere and blew everyone away with its biting political subversion, exploration of teenage angst, love, and uncertainty, and perhaps most importantly, brilliant structures, transitions, and overall cohesion. On the surface, it offered listeners a touchingly earnest and emotionally universal Bildungsroman about adolescent romance and rebellion that, combined with its multifaceted arrangements, earned it justified comparisons to the Who’s 1973 masterpiece, Quadrophenia. On a deeper level, though, it served as a scorching attack on the hypocrisy and evils of the Bush Administration (as well as the increasingly credulous and submissive nature of the American public). Combined, these achievements resulted in a wonderfully infectious, explosive, and profound work of art.

Although the album showcased astounding growth for the trio in every way, its greatest achievement was (and still is) exemplifying the truest purpose of art: to represent the struggles of the human condition and/or reflect on the injustices and illogicality of the age in which it exists. Upon its release, it received almost universal praise, with IGN arguably offering the most weighty conclusion (along with a perfect score):

“You will emerge from your experience with American Idiot physically tired, emotionally drained, and, quite possibly, changed forever. It is less an album than an experience that demands to be lived. It is a part of my life now, as well as the most satisfying hour of music I’ve ever heard. Nothing else even comes close. In short, American Idiot is flawless.”

“American Idiot”

Rather than jump right in with its story, American Idiot begins with its title track, an invigorating, catchy, and straightforward punk rock single that has almost nothing to do with the plot that follows. In a way, it acts as a bridge between the aesthetic of its predecessors and the sonic evolution that would follow. It starts with a razor-sharp chord progression that’s modest yet engrossing—naturally, bassist Mike Dirnt and drummer Tré Cool providing a great rhythmic complement too. Musically, the track doesn’t stray too far from this foundation, although some impressive syncopation and a killer guitar solo help it kick ass. No, what makes “American Idiot” so powerful and affecting are its lyrics and vocals.

As usual, singer/guitarist Billie Joe Armstrong bursts into the song with his characteristic tone and delivery, issuing his decrees with vigor and charming attitude. Cool’s isolated percussion leads the charge as Armstrong attacks the troubles of President George W. Bush’s reign, as well as the complacent and judgmental nature of Americans writ large. Every phrase, from its antagonistic opening—”Don’t wanna be an American idiot / Don’t want a nation under the new media / And can you hear the sound of hysteria / The subliminal mindfuck America”—to eventual jabs like “Well maybe I’m the faggot America / I’m not a part of a redneck agenda / Now everybody do the propaganda / And sing along to the age of paranoia”, suggests with pinpoint accuracy how hateful, impressionable, and just plain scared U.S. citizens were following the events of September 11th, 2001. People believed whatever the government and media suggested (such as the colorful “threat levels” that frightened us into limitless suspicion). As a result, they subscribed to a fear of the “Other” (as Freud would say).

Of course, the real question is, have we changed all that much since, or are we even more racist/sexist/homophobic and blindly patriotic since “American Idiot” first aimed to shatter our national security blanket? Regardless of the answer, it’s easy to see how impactful and necessary American Idiot was for its time, right from the start. The title track presented listeners with a blunt critique of the world around them, as well as a call of change, action, and self-reflection. At the same time, it stood as an exceptionally lively, dynamic, and appealing slice of punk anarchy”.

“Holiday”

Having properly set up both the social commentary and narrative construct of American Idiot with the album’s first two pieces (“American Idiot” and “Jesus of Suburbia”), Green Day chose the most logical option for the next track: fuse the two agendas into one wholly kickass amalgam. Indeed, “Holiday” is among the most overtly political songs on the record, which is probably why it was such a big hit back in 2004. Likewise, it followed up on the defiant departure of the album’s protagonist, showcasing the next chapter in his journey. A decade later, “Holiday” is still just as catchy, invigorating, and collectively powerful, igniting a rebellious fire in the soul of everyone who hears it, as well as sparking discussions about its meanings.

When we last heard from the main character (on March 3rd, according to the linear notes of the album), he was “running away from pain” and his “broken home”, so it makes sense that we now find him on holiday (vacation), traveling to wherever his destiny awaits. Specifically, it’s now April 1st, and he’s on the streets, reflecting on “the sound of falling rain / Coming down like an Armageddon flame” and declaring his independence. Other statements, such as “I beg to dream and differ / From the hall of lies / This is the dawning of the rest of our loves / This is our lives on holiday”, demonstrate this newfound enthusiasm for freedom, as well as a formal rejection of the corrupt government. Also, the fact that he uses “our” instead of “my” indicates that he’s inviting others to join him (and they do, eventually).

Interestingly, though, most of the lyrics to “Holiday” point the microscope outwardly, continuing the critical lens that “American Idiot” introduced. For example, the “Armageddon flame” signifies that he (and thus, Green Day singer Billie Joe Armstrong) is also commenting on the “War on Terror” that President Geroge W. Bush started. Essentially, Jesus is predicting that the end of the world will come from this international conflict. For example, “The ones who died without a name” likely relate to both literal casualties (soldiers and civilians alike) and, in a more figurative sense, anyone who’s fallen victim in the hysteria of political conflict. Later on, we’re told that “another protestor has crossed the line / To find the money’s on the other side”, a sentiment that illustrates how people will fight for the “right side” until they realize that perhaps everyone is in on the exploitation.

In the song’s most aggressive moment, the music forgoes most of its straightforward rock construction, allowing isolated percussion to stampede behind a punky “representative from California” as he “has the floor”. From there, he (along with backing chanters) utters bold proclamations, such as “Zieg Heil to the President Gasman / Bombs away is your punishment / Pulverize the Eiffel Towers / Who criticize your government”. Clearly, this is meant to connect the Iraq war to Nazism, as well as suggest destroying anyone who’s critical of the US. He goes on to profess, “Kill all the fags that don’t agree / Trials by fire / Setting fire / Is not a way that’s meant for me”, a statement that mocks both America’s enduring homophobia and its juvenile tendency to label anyone who disagrees with blind patriotism as a “fag” (which, in this context, means idiot, weakling, etc).

Although it’s not especially impressive musically (although it’s still very good, don’t get me wrong), “Holiday” still manages to stand out strongly due to its successful dichotomy, as it simultaneously moves the story along and further encapsulates the dense national critique that pervades underneath the surface of American Idiot. Our “hero” stands tall and free, refusing to buy into the deception and dishonor of both his hometown and country writ large. At this moment, he is content in his boldness and self-reliance, but that will change drastically once he begins traveling down the “Boulevard of Broken Dreams”.

Reaching number one in the U.K. and U.S., you can read more about American Idiot here. It won Best Rock Album at the 2005 Grammy Awards. It is considered one of the best albums of the decade ('00s). One of the best albums of all time. I would recommend people also check out this track-by-track review from Billboard. Before coming to an SLANT review of American Idiot, this is what AllMusic has to say in their review:

“It's a bit tempting to peg Green Day's sprawling, ambitious, brilliant seventh album, American Idiot, as their version of a Who album, the next logical step forward from the Kinks-inspired popcraft of their underrated 2000 effort, Warning, but things aren't quite that simple. American Idiot is an unapologetic, unabashed rock opera, a form that Pete Townshend pioneered with Tommy, but Green Day doesn't use that for a blueprint as much as they use the Who's mini-opera "A Quick One, While He's Away," whose whirlwind succession of 90-second songs isn't only emulated on two song suites here, but provides the template for the larger 13-song cycle. But the Who are only one of many inspirations on this audacious, immensely entertaining album. The story of St. Jimmy has an arc similar to Hüsker Dü's landmark punk-opera Zen Arcade, while the music has grandiose flourishes straight out of both Queen and Rocky Horror Picture Show (the '50s pastiche "Rock and Roll Girlfriend" is punk rock Meat Loaf), all tied together with a nervy urgency and a political passion reminiscent of the Clash, or all the anti-Reagan American hardcore bands of the '80s. These are just the clearest touchstones for American Idiot, but reducing the album to its influences gives the inaccurate impression that this is no more than a patchwork quilt of familiar sounds, when it's an idiosyncratic, visionary work in its own right. First of all, part of Green Day's appeal is how they have personalized the sounds of the past, making time-honored guitar rock traditions seem fresh, even vital. With their first albums, they styled themselves after first-generation punk they were too young to hear firsthand, and as their career progressed, the group not only synthesized these influences into something distinctive, but chief songwriter Billie Joe Armstrong turned into a muscular, versatile songwriter in his own right.

Warning illustrated their growing musical acumen quite impressively, but here, the music isn't only tougher, it's fluid and, better still, it fuels the anger, disillusionment, heartbreak, frustration, and scathing wit at the core of American Idiot. And one of the truly startling things about American Idiot is how the increased musicality of the band is matched by Armstrong's incisive, cutting lyrics, which effectively convey the paranoia and fear of living in American in days after 9/11, but also veer into moving, intimate small-scale character sketches. There's a lot to absorb here, and cynics might dismiss it after one listen as a bit of a mess when it's really a rich, multi-faceted work, one that is bracing upon the first spin and grows in stature and becomes more addictive with each repeated play. Like all great concept albums, American Idiot works on several different levels. It can be taken as a collection of great songs -- songs that are as visceral or as poignant as Green Day at their best, songs that resonate outside of the larger canvas of the story, as the fiery anti-Dubya title anthem proves -- but these songs have a different, more lasting impact when taken as a whole. While its breakneck, freewheeling musicality has many inspirations, there really aren't many records like American Idiot (bizarrely enough, the Fiery Furnaces' Blueberry Boat is one of the closest, at least on a sonic level, largely because both groups draw deeply from the kaleidoscopic "A Quick One"). In its musical muscle and sweeping, politically charged narrative, it's something of a masterpiece, and one of the few -- if not the only -- records of 2004 to convey what it feels like to live in the strange, bewildering America of the early 2000s”.

I am going to end with a review from SLANT. They noted how a band seen as slackers on previous work – who perhaps were not likely to be political or rally for change – had really changed things up and were now calling for action. An amazing transformation from Green Day. American Idiot still resounds and reverberates to this day:

“Of all the negative effects the Bush administration has had on the world (and unless you’ve had your head buried in the sand, then you know that there are many), the most unlikely bit of collateral damage has to be the return of the rock opera. Dissent has always been a fundamental tenet of punk rock, so it comes as no surprise that the forefathers of popular punk would take a stab at the not-quite-popular-enough sport of Bush-bashing. But an all-out punk musical? With American Idiot, their first studio album in four years, Green Day have resurrected the rock opera medium, and not only have they succeeded, they’ve managed to create a musical-political document that should remain relevant for years to come (possibly even longer if Bush actually gets elected this time).

The story begins on Presidents Day and follows two main characters, Jesus of Suburbia and St. Jimmy, who may or may not be the same person but who both stand on the same side of the political fence, with varying degrees of rage. Ultimately the narrative, which feels flimsy at times and ends with too many loose ends (perhaps the inevitable film or stage production will fill in the blanks), seems less important than Billy Joe Armstrong’s own story. “Maybe I am the faggot, America/I’m not part of a redneck agenda,” he sings on the title track. Billy Joe knows he (Jesus) is pretty much alone in his crusade (“Where have all the riots gone?” he begs in “Letterbomb”), but that doesn’t stop him from attacking both sides with equal vehemence on “Holiday,” one of American Idiot’s most potent tracks: “Another protester has crossed the line/To find the money’s on the other side,” and then, my personal favorite, “Zieg heil to the President Gasman!”

In the tradition of The Who and Pink Floyd, American Idiot is a pompous, overwrought, and, quite simply, glorious concept album. While it may be long on narrative and character skteches (Jesus’s muse is a girl named Whatsername, “the mother of all bombs”), it’s certainly not short on hooks. The guitars are stacked, the drums are big, and the message is crystal clear. There are hints of the more adult-skewed pop-punk of Green Day’s last album, 2000’s underappreciated Warning, on the power ballad “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” and “Wake Me Up Before September,” a lament for Billy Joe’s late father, but American Idiot finds the band exploring new ground, drawing not only on classic Clash riffs but, yes, Broadway musicals for a few multi-part, key-shifting epics. In their attempt to reinvigorate themselves as a band (creatively and commercially), Green Day have managed to accomplish what record companies have failed to do with so many useless tacked-on DVDs and net portals to “exclusive” material: they’ve produced an album you’ll want to own, Kazaa be damned.

The cheeky press notes for the album, set sometime in the future, boldly declares that American Idiot is “the album that started a whole cult of people clutching their hand grenade hearts” and that it’s “neck and neck with Sgt. Pepper as the greatest album of all time.” That remains to be seen, but for a band who burst onto the scene 10 years ago with a record called Dookie, the boys of Green Day, now in their 30s, sure have come a long way. They are, in fact, the real Nirvana, their influence more widely felt than any other American band from the ’90s (sorry, Kurt). Ironically, it seems the slackers of yesterday—the ones who were bored of masturbation, smoking their inspiration, and disenfranchised by the politics of Reagan and Bush Sr.—are now the ones rallying for political change, and hopefully their influence will reach a little bit farther than Sum 41 and Good Charlotte come this November”.

On 21st September, American Idiot turns twenty. American Idiot was planned as a film. However, plans were scrapped. It is a shame. However, it did take on a new life as a stage musical. That premiered in 2009. A documentary, Heart Like a Hand Grenade, was released in 2015 film. It featured Green Day during the recording of American Idiot. Directed by John Roecker and filmed over the process of fifteen months between 2003 and 2004. An inflammatory and essential album, it arrived at a time with so much tension and disenfranchisement. I wonder, twenty years later, whether people…

HAVE truly wised up?

FEATURE: With a New Decade… Kate Bush’s Never for Ever at Forty-Four

FEATURE:

 

 

With a New Decade…

Kate Bush’s Never for Ever at Forty-Four

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ONE is of Kate Bush’s…

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1980/PHOTO CREDIT: John Carder Bush

best albums turns forty-four on 8th September. The wonderful Never for Ever might be known to many because of its three singles. There was Breathing, Babooshka and Army Dreamers. It was, in some ways, an album of transition for Kate Bush. If it was not quite a full move into the sort of layered and experimental production we would see from The Dreaming (1982) onwards, there was this bridge between the sort of sound and material that was present on her first two albums – 1978’s The Kick Inside and Lionheart – and what would come. Rather than it being unsatisfactory, it was a big step from her first two albums. Kate Bush was unhappy about working again with Andrew Powell (who produced the first two album) so worked with Jon Kelly. However, come The Dreaming, he would be let go. This being Kate Bush, she would cut ties in the nicest and most polite way possible! After 1979’s The Tour of Life, there was new energy and ambitious to be explored in the studio. For a usual and comprehensive guide, I am going to refer to Graeme Thomson’s Under the Ivy: The Life and Music of Kate Bush, as there are some great pages written about Never for Ever. As it is forty-four on 8th September, it is important to discuss the album.  Although AIR was still a studio in the mix, this was the first time Bush was recording at Abbey Road Studios. It was a fresh environment. This new decade meant that there was almost a new phase. Everything starting again. Though not quite. EMI were keen for Kate Bush to write four new songs before Christmas 1979. Rather than dip into her older songs, this was the first album where we were getting fresh songs. Bush writing new tracks and not dipping into her archive.

I guess there could have been a few songs where there were early sketches and this was them being built on, though Never for Ever is marked by this sense of a new chapter. Bush did not have a huge amount of time, though there was opportunity to write new material. The album’s title is a reference to conflicting emotions, good and bad, which pass. Bush stated that "we must tell our hearts that it is 'never for ever', and be happy that it's like that”. There was an interesting first revelation that is Babooshka. That song being written and shown to Jon Kelly. I shall come back to that. First, the Kate Bush Encyclopedia collated interviews where Bush spoke about Never for Ever. I have chosen some to highlight:

“Now, after all this waiting it is here. It’s strange when I think back to the first album. I thought it would never feel as new or as special again. This one has proved me wrong. It’s been the most exciting. Its name is Never For Ever, and I’ve called it this because I’ve tried to make it reflective of all that happens to you and me. Life, love, hate, we are all transient. All things pass, neither good [n]or evil lasts. So we must tell our hearts that it is “never for ever”, and be happy that it’s like that!
The album cover has been beautifully created by Nick Price (you may remember that he designed the front of the Tour programme). On the cover of Never For Ever Nick takes us on an intricate journey of our emotions: inside gets outside, as we flood people and things with our desires and problems. These black and white thoughts, these bats and doves, freeze-framed in flight, swoop into the album and out of your hi-fis. Then it’s for you to bring them to life.

Kate Bush Club newsletter, September 1980

Each song has a very different personality, and so much of the production was allowing the songs to speak with their own voices – not for them to be used purely as objects to decorate with “buttons and bows”. Choosing sounds is so like trying to be psychic, seeing into the future, looking in the “crystal ball of arrangements”, “scattering a little bit of stardust”, to quote the immortal words of the Troggs. Every time a musical vision comes true, it’s like having my feet tickled. When it works, it helps me to feel a bit braver. Of course, it doesn’t always work, but experiments and ideas in a studio are never wasted; they will always find a place sometime.
I never really felt like a producer, I just felt closer to my loves – felt good, free, although a little raw, and sometimes paranoia would pop up. But when working with emotion, which is what music is, really, it can be so unpredictable – the human element, that fire. But all my friends, the Jons, and now you will make all the pieces of the Never For Ever jigsaw slot together, and It will be born and It will begin Breathing.

Kate Bush Club newsletter, September 1980”.

Going back to the early sketches and ideas for Never for Ever. Just after Christmas 1979, Jon Kelly was invited to Kate Bush’s flat where she played him Babooshka. The first demo of the song dates back to that time. It is Kate Bush at a piano with her voice. A lead vocal and a harmony vocal. Quite Blues-like and (Bob) Dylan-esque, she would then add an electronic drum. Seeing that song in its infancy would have been fascinating. Jon Kelly heard the piano motif and knew that Babooshka was going to be a hit. That it has this potential. There was a bit of a conflict with this song. The fact it was a natural hit meant she might have to do Top of the Pops. Having endured it rather than enjoyed it when Wuthering Heights was top of the charts and she never really had a good experience, together with promotion and interviews, there was this fear. Recording at Abbey Road’s Studio 2 in January 1980, they spent days in there. Jon Kelly and Kate Bush, as producers, hunting for that perfect sound. Different bass players used. The first album where Bush was casting players and the production was different. Rather than someone saying that the sound was right and sticking with the one player, Bush was not in control and she wanted her songs to sound like she had imagined. Not sit back and let someone else shape then. I am going to explore other sides of Never for Ever in another feature.

However, this is a more general look at a really important and brilliant album. Richard Burgess, who was a player on Never for Ever, explained that Bush and Kelly would experiment and try ideas. Sometimes it did not work, but there was this sense of seeing where something would go. The Fairlight CMI, introduced to Kate Bush by Peter Gabriel, was used on Never for Ever. It was not the most user-friendly piece of kit. Although there were limitations and Bush would have liked to have used it more – a lot of the noises and affects were ‘flown in’ by Jon Kelly using a tape recorder -, it was a process where everyone took turns and used the Fairlight CMI. The noise of doors opening and closing. Vocal effects. It was brought into Abbey Road Studios on four occasions. Although a bit bruised in transportation, this fascinating portal of creativity opened Kate Bush’s mind. Bush could now add anything. Putting the future into nostalgia, to paraphrase her words. No longer having to manipulate her voice to her piano to get an effect, there was now this arsenal of options for her to explore. In the second feature for Never for Ever, I will look at some of the songs and the chart success the album enjoyed. One thing is notable about Never for Ever arriving in 1980. It was a time when many artists were brining politics into their music. Although Bush wrote Army Dreamers and Breathing – the former about a young man senselessly being killed in a war and this sense of it being so futile; the latter a foetus’s perspective of nuclear war incoming and that feeling of doom and maybe being protected in the womb -, Never for Ever was not a reactionary album. Danny Baker interviewed Bush in 1979 and there was this condescending attitude. Why she was not writing about politics. His take on her music was that it was hippy-dippy and insignificant.

Rather than react by filing the album with political themes and almost having this unnatural and knee-jerk reaction, Bush was busy working on what she wanted to write. When race riots happening during Margaret Thatcher’s rule of Britain, Bush was ensconced in the studio. Not that she was oblivious to the troubles. She was concerned, but she was not an artist looking out at the struggles – the Miners’ Strike and the Falklands War – and was putting all of that into the music. Her heart and imagination were still at the controls. Music that was much richer and more fascinating that a lot of the dead-ahead and straighter songs from 1980. That is what makes Never for Ever so special and unique As opposed to it being Bush cause-hopping or this being an album about what was happening in Britain at the time, which would have made it sound dated now, this was Bush doing what she wanted to do. As Graeme Thomson writes in Under the Ivy: The Life and Music of Kate Bush, Bush was a “metaphysical poet in a roomful of hollering three-chord revolutionaries”. The songs on Never for Ever are open and unguarded. They are different and at odds with what was around then. As such, Bush found herself open to press ridicule or some rather sniffy encounters. This got to her. The frustration of dealing with the press. The first album where Bush’s songs were for the whole world and not just for herself.

Never for Ever turns forty-four on 8th September. There is so much to explore and discuss. It is clear that this was a new step and move towards more of where Kate Bush wanted to go. Not quite a complete metamorphism, this was a shedding of the old way of working. Writing at the end of the 1970s and releasing the album in the first year of the 1980s, it could have been a failure. Some critics dismissed the albums and felt it was insignificant in the modern times. Never for Ever did get to number one and gained some amazing reviews. However, I still think that it has remained underrated and misunderstood. Not seen as important and substantial by many, we need to show Never for Ever some love. What I wanted to explore in this feature is how Bush had this new start. A new studio and technology. How it was a chance for her to take the reigns and make her work more personal and true. Not having to ally with a producer that shared a different vision. Forty-four years after its release, Never for Ever remains so impactful and fascinating. You can really hear the differences and evolution. Bush was still twenty-one when she started recording Never for Ever. It is amazing to hear her confidence and ambition! Abbey Road Studios and the Fairlight EMI had helped open up all worlds of possibilities for Kate Bush. Her third studio album changed how she worked. Her mind was now open. From 1980’s masterpiece onwards, there really was…

NO turning back.

FEATURE: Groovelines: Supergrass - Moving

FEATURE:

 

 

Groovelines

Supergrass - Moving

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THERE is no denying…

that Supergrass’ first two albums, 1995’s I Should Coco and 1997’s In It for the Money, are classics. A band that came straight out of the gate all guns blazing, there are comparisons with other bands. Rather than it being a difficult second album, they had a difficult third – sort of like Oasis, but for different reasons. I think that 1999’s Supergrass is a fantastic album, yet it does have a few filler tracks and is quite top/middle-heavy with a run of a few lesser tracks to end things. They showed they could not be written off. Their penultimate album, 2005’s Road to Rouen, is one of their best. I am not sure whether we will hear any more music from the band. However, their 1999 album is very special to me and I will mark that with a twenty-fifth anniversary feature closer to 20th September. A transformation and evolution from them, they went from the cheeky chaps and this perception of them and incorporated more elements into Supergrass. Perhaps a bit more maturity and grace. Tracks that build up and were more emotive. Of course, this being Suerpgrass, there was still some of their trademark charm, wit and fun! Songs such as Pumping on Your Stereo and Jesus Came From Outer Space. Many critics felt there were too many half-finished moments and not enough of the excellence heard on In It for the Money. Whilst there was little as raw and hypnotically brilliant as Richard III or Going Out, some of the band’s career-best was on Supergrass. Gaz Coombes, Danny Goffey and Mick Quinn produced a solid and impressive album. Ending the century with plenty of bang! Following Pumping on Your Stereo – the album’s first single, released on 24th May, 1999 – Supergrass’ second single and second most-popular song (and not by much) is the majestic, stirring and beautiful Moving. It is the song that opens Supergrass.

Moving is a sublime track! I agree that Supergrass is not sequenced that well. In the sense that two of the album’s weaker tracks – Your Love and Beautiful People – appear in the top third. Two of the weaker tracks, Far Away and Mama and Papa, end the album. Though Mary offer some mid-album brilliance, there are seven tracks between Moving and Pumping on Your Stereo. I often think that Pumping on Your Stereo should have closed Supergrass, as it would end it on such a high. Also, with their being applause and a humorous five final words (“Can we go home now?”), it would have been perfect. I digress! Moving turns twenty-five on 6th September. I think this was about the date I started at sixth-form college. The Supergrass album was a big fixture and I would hear it played in the social areas and lunch room. Moving was a track that was much-discussed. The band opened the album with, in my view, its strongest cut. Maybe a risk not opening with something like Pumping on Your Stereo or Mary, this was a more reflective band commenting on the rush and endless touring of the past few years. They also knew they could not really release Moving as the first single. That contrast between confidently opening the album with Moving but not feeling it was right as the lead single. Whereas Pumping on Your Stereo reached eleven in the U.K., Moving went to number nine. A triumphant and wonderful top ten single, I know that the band have played it a lot live. As they reformed and toured again fairly recently, I wonder how they feel about Moving. Maybe taking on new meaning. Lines like “Moving, just keep moving/Well I don't know why to stay/No ties to bind me/No reasons to remain” maybe about touring and the endless stop and start of life in the band at that point, now might seem at odds with who they became and how they endured. Those words perhaps less poignant and urgent as they were.

I wanted to spend some time with Moving. I love its slow-motion video. Directed by Nick Gordon, its pace and sense of somnambulism and sleepiness depicts the tedium and routine of touring. The weariness and the displacement. How they had no home. Many critics look at Moving as a reason why Supergrass feels less inspired or tired. Perhaps touring taking too much out. The band needing a kick and refresh. 2002’s Life on Other Planets – whilst not hugely acclaimed – went some way to returning in some ways to their former self. People dismiss Supergrass’ third album. It arrived after two adored albums and extensive touring. They needed to change pace and develop their music. Not repeat what they did before. The Moving video is large slow-motion, but there are sections sped up too. Bits repeated. It is that disorientation. Playing Moving at shows fairly recently – this review of a 2020 set not long before the COVID-19 lockdowns is an example -, I hope we get to hear it played live again by Supergrass. There are some features and reviews I want to come to. In 2017, this blog gave their opinion on the magnificent Moving:

“The people:
Written by Gaz Coombes, Rob Coombes, Danny Goffey & Mick Quinn.
Produced by Supergrass & John Cornfield.
Lead vocals by Gaz Coombes.
Backing vocals by Mick Quinn & Danny Goffey.
Guitar by Gaz Coombes.
Drums by Danny Goffey.
Bass by Mick Quinn.
Keyboards by Rob Coombes.

The opinion:
Every once in a while, Random.org gives me a britpop song to write about in this series. This week we get one of the most successful bands of the genre, but also one of the bands that seems to have faded from public consciousness the most. Not really deserved if you ask me, even if it is also somewhat understandable.

The core of their appeal might also have been their downfall in the long run: they made unpretentious songs that sound breezy. Especially their hit singles sound so effortless that you might forget they are secretly something special. Few bands can make a whole career out of music so giddy and upbeat (regardless if the lyrics are all that happy). Its’s a modus operandi that became a bit more prominent in indie rock during the 2000’s, though, but few acts were at the same time so unabashedly poppy as well as alternatively cool as Supergrass at the time. They had broad appeal.

IN THIS PHOTO: Supergrass in 1999/PHOTO CREDIT: Martyn Goodacre

Moving was one of the last real hits the band had; in fact it was the very last in many areas. Although it is one of the least ambitious songs they ever did it still deserves to be seen as a definite final hurrah. Though I’m aware that a case can be made of much subsequent work as being of equal quality, these mostly weren’t hits. Moving was the last big time in the limelight.

The lyrics are in some way about the downside of the limelight. For musicians it means touring, seemingly endlessly. Gaz Coombes essentially sings about the mental boredom and loneliness that comes from the travelling. He wasn’t exactly the first to do so. I don’t know which singer sung about this the first, but the oldest I’m aware of are Simon & Garfunkel on their classic Homeward Bound. Other notable songs about this subject are the popular Faithfully by Journey and the ode to roadies by Jackson Browne, named The Load-Out. There are happier examples too: the Ramones basically bring an ode to their travel schedule on Touring and John Foggerty celebrated “Rockin’ All Over the World”, which was also a hit for Status Quo.

The thing about Moving is that it has lyrics that sound rather sad on paper, but the song itself doesn’t feel that way. This is not a band given to sharing deep, painful feelings. The opening seems to become a honest-to-goodness ballad, but quickly the chorus sets in and everything becomes both up-tempo and upbeat. In fact, when that chorus hits it feels like an explosion, thanks to both a small second of silence before it and a change in volume. It might not be the most original thing ever, but for me it makes the song, as it is executed so satisfyingly.

That goes a long way in explaining the appeal of Moving and Supergrass. Among their Britpop contemporaries they never had the depth of The Verve, the sense of exploration of Blur, the swagger of Oasis and all of the above of Pulp. Yet on songs like this or the other hit of the album, Pumping On Your Stereo, they delivered shameless pop executed in such a way that it became cool, while still retaining its sense of fun. The handclaps, the hooky chorus, heck even the videoclip that turns boredom into something goofy: everything has an honest celebratory feeling that make all these potentially annoying elements glorious.

Of course, as said there was little depth to all this, musically of lyrically, which might in the long run be the reason people forget about them more easily than other britpop contemporaries. I know I can be dismissive of this kind of unassuming music every now and then, but I also have to acknowledge that there is definitely place for well-executed pop as this.
7/10”.

In fact, I will bring in this feature from Medium and then round off I think. There is a lot to dissect and discuss when it comes to Moving. In terms of its timing and its relevance to where Supergrass were at that point psychologically. Its position on the Supergrass album and its significance of a single release. For anyone new to Supergrass who were too young when the single came out in September 1999, I hope that they check it out:

“Time moves, man: sometimes slowly, sometimes sideways, sometimes with unbearable celerity. But its constant is always motion.

Moving, just keep moving
’til I don’t know what I’m saying
I’ve been moving so long
The days all feel the same

Through time, we are propelled through space. We go from Day 1 to Day Now, a specific place along the line we travel from birth to death. But how do we distinguish if this day is unlike any other? The peripheral landscape might be different: the colours are greener? — the birds are chirpier? — the strangers seem to smile more?

And how does gravity affect the movement? Can it bend time onto itself, to where present me can kiss the forehead of 14 year old me, and I can whisper solemnly, “this will pass, young sir — just keep on moving.”

Supergrass is phenomenal. I hold them up there with Radiohead, and Oasis, as my favorite bands from across the pond during the last couple decades. And honestly, I think their discography, as a whole, probably outdoes those other two bands, as I adore all their albums. Their debut, I Should Coco, is a raucous display of pop sensibilities through a filter of English punk attitude (you’re surely familiar with “Alright” — which to me is what I think Ray Davies would have written if he were born in the late 70s). The whole album is downright anthemic.

Moving, just keep moving
Well I don’t know why to stay
No ties to bind me
No reasons to remain

Though they also didn’t rest on that formula. Their third release, Supergrass, is a masterpiece. It’s more “Village Green” than “You Really Got Me,” with lovely songs that might evoke English meadows on rainy afternoons. “Moving” is the lead track, and it reveals the perfect voice of Gaz Coombes. The song starts with that voice over an acoustic and subtle synth, through the verse. The chorus bounces in, with the bass and drums and electric guitar. There’s a beautiful juxtaposition between the two sections, which comprise the whole song (the third “verse” plays out with no vocals, but rather an outro solo that mirrors the verse vocal melody). It’s a simple song construct that is executed brilliantly.

Moving, keep on moving
Where I feel I’m home again
And when it’s over
I’ll see you again

Time, man. It moves. And we go where the line takes us through space. And we can only anticipate what our future experiences might offer us.

Until then: there’s Supergrass. There’s Gaz Coombes. There’s symmetry as we wait to live, as we move forward”.

On 6th September, Moving turns twenty-five. A song that arrived at a moment of change for Supergrass, its lyrics can apply to modern touring. That grind and mundanity. One of their most revealing tracks to that moment, it was the second single from the brilliant Supergrass album – one that will remain underrated I fear. A tremendous single that I can’t believe is almost twenty-five, it will always be special to me. And, yes, as its title suggest, it is a song that will always move me! That is the power of Supergrass! For those who have not played Moving in a while, make sure that you play it now. It only takes one play through…

BEFORE it hits you!

FEATURE: The Digital Mixtape: Songs from The Final Albums of Legendary Artists

FEATURE:

 

 

The Digital Mixtape

Songs from The Final Albums of Legendary Artists

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THIS Digital Mixtape…

PHOTO CREDIT: cottonbro studio/Pexels

is dedicated to Led Zeppelin, whose final album, In Through the Out Door, was released in the U.S. on 22nd August, 1969. Marking fifty years of the final chapter of one of the all-time great bands, I wanted to look at the final albums from legendary artists. Whether classic bands like Led Zeppelin or The Beatles or an amazing solo artist, it is quite sad knowing that this will be the end. That said, many bands get back together, so you can never say never! Even so, you can definitely say that about Led Zeppelin! Whilst not one of their finest studio albums, In Through the Out Door still has some brilliant moments. The band did not know it would be their final album. Their drummer John Bonham died in 1980. In Through the Out Door was a big commercial success. To celebrate that, below are tracks from the final albums of some huge artists. Whether for sad reasons or calling time on things, these cuts show you that, in many cases, there was still gas in the tank! The Digital Mixtape shining a spotlight on…

PHOTO CREDIT: Ivan Samkov/Pexels

SOME fine swansongs.

FEATURE: Kate Bush: The Tour of Life: From Big Stripey Lie to Hounds of Love: Inside the Greatest Tracks and Albums Lists

FEATURE:

 

 

Kate Bush: The Tour of Life

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush performing in Paris in 1979/PHOTO CREDIT: Getty Images

From Big Stripey Lie to Hounds of Love: Inside the Greatest Tracks and Albums Lists

_________

BEFORE I dive into…

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1993/PHOTO CREDIT: John Stoddart

some anniversary features and start looking more at albums that were released in September, I wanted to spend a brief bit of time with the lists you see with Kate Bush’s greatest tracks ranked. It is not pertinent in the sense there has been debate or a new list published. I am thinking back and wondering whether these rankings make a difference on our listening. Definitely, you do notice the same tracks coming in the top ten or twenty. A few surprises through in here and there. I think the most recent one might have been from MOJO. With more than a hundred album tracks and some B-sides and covers, there is enough to choose from for a top fifty. I like the fact that MOJO included songs like Song of Solomon in their list – where they placed it at forty-eight:

“Kate swears! In her most R&B song ever.

Marmite, this one. To some “Don’t want your bullshit/Just want your sexuality” is too much information; they prefer their Kate crouched behind prettier metaphors. To others, the startling thrill of Bush’s most direct and demanding love song brooks no contest. It’s startling, but that’s the point: Bush is shocking the guy “who walks the path of the solitary heart” out of his aloof self-importance. And if that doesn’t work, how about “I’ll come in a hurricane for you”? That got his attention”.

Some might say that there are notable songs missed out. That is the thing with song rankings. You will always get some omissions. I am going to bring in some other rankings and lists. MOJO gave us some nice surprises in their ranking from earlier in the year. I like that more obscure songs get attention and people will discover them. I also think that it shows what variety you get from Kate Bush. Whether the same albums are mentioned in the top twenty. I think Hounds of Love will always have the majority vote when it comes to songs in the higher places. I might do a top fifty myself one day. I will discuss the albums and rankings later and what we can learn. I love looking at rankings and how people now perceive and judge songs released from years ago. Especially when it comes to Kate Bush and her earlier work. That period not getting enough attention. MOJO put The Kick Inside’s Feel It at forty-one – though they chose the live take from 1979’s The Tour of Life as the preferred version:

“Falling in lust and in public.

Only Kate Bush can do this: the nice, suburban, English girl, wafting away generations of social/cultural inhibitions – like diaphanous veils, rather than the brick walls many of us crash into as we grow up or try to. Horny sweetness, rampant joy, unbridled grace: song and performance are multifaceted oxymorons, dynamic self-contradictions, and that’s how she reaches so many of us. She asks the same questions we all ask time and again through life and, like Ulysses’ Molly Bloom, she answers: Yes. The live version from 1979’s Tour Of Life remains faithful to The Kick Inside’s simplicity – Kate at the piano, no phantasmagorical show going on around her – but it gains the different intimacy of performance in front of a couple of thousand people, the astonishing candour of sharing with so many, right there, absorbing every detail”.

Critical opinion might differ from the public’s, though it is interesting getting to that top twenty. The elite songs. Will many share the same top ten?! In terms of MOJO, they start with Never for Ever’s Breathing. Never for Ever gets three inclusions. You tend to find that Never for Ever, The Dreaming and Hounds of Love gets most inclusion. Those three consecutive albums that ran between 1980 to 1985. In their top five are two songs from The Kick Inside – Wuthering Heights (two) and The Man with the Child in His Eyes (five) – and Hounds of Love gets three songs in there: Cloudbusting at ten, Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) at three and Hounds of Love at one:

“Kate runs headlong from love and right into its clutches.

No matter how refined the circumstances of its creation – built at leisure in Bush’s new 48-track studio – or how newfangled its production – still tangible in the hi-tech stabs and pads of Fairlight, and the crispness of Jonathan Williams’ cello – Hounds Of Love is red in tooth and claw, its breathless, atavistic fear of capture mixed with almost supernatural rapture. Love is thundering through the psychosexual woods, hunting down somebody terrified of what it means to surrender to another person. The song opens with a quote from British horror film Night Of The Demon but that’s the only moment it feels like theatre. From then on, Hounds Of Love maintains a dizzying emotional velocity, the relentless double drumming of Charlie Morgan and Stuart Elliott stamping down on the accelerator. Bush’s voice might dip and soften, but those drums are merciless, while the strident backing vocals, like a hunting horn call, goad her on if introspection threatens to slow her down. It never lets up, every line heightening the pitch, closing the distance between song and listener. It ends with a suddenness that makes it seem like she’s hit the ground and you’ve hit it with her, breathlessly waiting for an answer to the question: “Do you know what I really need?” The uncertainty, however, is not reflected in the confidence – the perfect, dazzling completeness – of the song’s execution. On Hounds Of Love, Kate Bush is going at full pelt, chasing the horizon, running her vision to ground. Not really the hunted, but the hunter all along”.

It is perhaps not surprising that the bigger songs and singles get into the top ten. I wonder whether there is too much risk putting deeper cuts into the top spots. MOJO did include Aerial’s Mrs. Bartolozzi at seven. Lionheart’s Wow came at nine. In fact, there were a couple of surprise entries in the top twenty: A Coral Room from Aerial at thirteen; a B-side, Under the Ivy, at seventeen…and even Waking the Witch being at sixteen is a nice high place. Do opinions change over time regarding which Kate Bush songs are best? It is clear that Hounds of Love has this dominance, though there are other albums getting a nod. When it comes to the highest places, it is a split between Hounds of Love and The Kick Inside. It is the surprises and new perspectives that compel us to dig deep. When What Hi-Fi? listed seventeen Kate Bush songs to test your stereo to, there were songs in there that never really get high up songs ranking lists. Don’t Push Your Foot on the Heartbrake (from 1978’s Lionheart), Rubberband Girl (The Red Shoes) and Hounds of Love’s Mother Stands for Comfort (the only song on the album never performed live; the only song from the album’s first side not released as a single). I like that you get the same songs coming high up. It shows that there is love for them. However, with every list and feature, you get some differences that are interesting. How various people view her work and the songs that are best. LOUDER named their top forty Kate Bush songs last year. There were at least six or seven big surprise. A song like The Infant Kiss being in the mix – though it does deserve to be!

“The Infant Kiss (Never For Ever, 1980)

This haunting track was inspired by the 1961 film The Innocents, based on Henry James’ The Turn Of The Screw, about a governess who suspects her charges may be possessed. The young boy flirts with the governess as Bush sings, ‘What is this? An infant kiss that sends my body tingling?’

Alice Lowe: “Kate Bush is such a consummate storyteller; her songs draw you in and take you on an emotional journey. The vulnerability is just astonishing, something about the glass tone of her voice and the unashamed femininity. The subject matter certainly had me fascinated, even scandalised – [it’s] one of her most controversial songs because many thought the lyrics were about paedophilia. But even as a child I was struck by how she was one of the few artists singing about children, childbirth, a child’s perspective, a mother’s perspective”.

Lionheart got a few inclusions. It is a magnificent album that never gets its fair credit. My favourite Kate Bush song, Houdini from The Dreaming, was also picked as one of her forty best songs. Once more, it gives these lesser-known tracks some oxygen and love:

“Houdini (The Dreaming, 1982)

Catherine Anne Davies, The Anchoress: “Kate herself has spoken about how ‘emotionally demanding’ Houdini was to write, and it really manages to capture that beautiful and strange relationship of Houdini and his wife. It’s like a small novel, unwrapped over the course of a single song. I find it so beautiful and epic in its range and depth trying to convey that relationship from beyond the grave.

“Kate’s voice on this stands out for me in terms of its emotional and tonal range: to go from the fragile tenderness of the verses, really conveying the emotion of the story she’s stepping into, and then the utter power of that almost death metal scream/cry in her voice: ‘With your spit still on my lip, you hit the water.’ Just devastating. The way that the fretless bass interweaves with her top line in verse two is stunning. I’m obsessed with the whole arrangement. It’s just perfection”.

Whilst some listings and rankings would overlook albums like The Red Shoes, there were some important inclusions in the LOUDER list. Celebrating songs that are ignored and seen as inessential. You’re the One is a classic example:

“You’re The One (The Red Shoes, 1993)

Anneke Van Giersbergen: “Kate’s lyrics are usually very poetical and sometimes mystical, but this song is so down-to-earth and honest: ‘I’m okay and will move on,’ but suddenly she gets really honest and confesses that she just misses her big love. That contradiction always gets me.

“The song has a long outro solo by Jeff Beck, which is breathtakingly beautiful. There’s a lot going on vocally. There’s this beautiful contrast both musically and lyrically between the verses – descriptive and practical – and the choruses, which are so very emotional and desperate.

“I love that Kate is so involved with every aspect of her music. Also, she doesn’t seem to care about fame or success, but wants to create on her own terms. She has taught me the importance of integrity and being honest as an artist”.

Stereogum did a top ten in 2022 and included the underrated Rubberband Girl in there. I think opinion and narrative does change through time. Obviously, there might be some subjectiveness and personal bias, though we can learn a few things from song rankings. What various people value in songs. Those who instantly go for the obvious tracks. Those who dig deeper. I think we would all debate every song ranking list and say that the order is wrong! The Guardian’s ranking of her singles from 2018 was especially surprising. Lyra (from the soundtrack album of the film, The Golden Compass, in 2007) is definitely not one of Bush’s best singles but was seen as her twenty-third-best. Love and Anger came in sixteenth. Again, not one of the strongest. It is good Rubberband Girl consistently gets some love, even if Kate Bush dismissed The Red Shoes version as a throwaway song. She revisited it for Director’s Cut and I get the feeling she was not overly-fond of that version. What I have noticed is that five songs in particular come in the top five or ten for most. You have Hounds of Love and Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God), Wuthering Heights, The Man with the Child in His Eyes and This Woman’s Work. Again, known and big songs. You tend to find something from Hounds of Love comes top – though occasionally Wuthering Heights steals it. There is a whole psychologically behind the switch of number one. There was a time when Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) was always the favourite and, even though that song enjoyed a resurgence in 2022, Hounds of Love ranks higher and seen as better.

Like albums by The Beatles. Is it a case of various works revealing strength over time or something else affecting our opinions and perceptions?! It is interesting to explore it psychologically. Same with Kate Bush albums. Going back to the songs, and it is clear that albums like The Red Shoes, The Sensual World, 50 Words for Snow and Aerial don’t do too well. I wonder whether this is to do with the age of the person writing features or something in the songs that means they do not connect as hard. A lot the denser or more experimental tracks could make a top fifty but not so the much higher positions. When it comes to album rankings, Hounds of Love nearly always comes top. I can understand to an extent, though it is strange few have a different choice. If some rankings change, you tend to find the same patterns with album lists. Hounds of Love will be top. The Kick Inside is top three or four. In the bottom three positions will be Lionheart, The Red Shoes and Director’s Cut. Maybe mirroring critical opinion or the lack of exposure these albums get, I do worry that some worthy and brilliant albums will always be seen as runts and inferior. I will take four examples of album ranking features. Rough Trade put Hounds of Love top, through they shockingly put 50 Words for Snow at ten! Even so, Lionheart, Director’s Cut and The Red Shoes were low. SPIN following the same pattern. It is surprising that 50 Words for Snow comes so low. They put it in eighth. One of her most acclaimed albums, there must be something that puts off some critics. Strange. I would have 50 Words for Snow in the top five!

NME’s 2019 ranking is a standard pattern. Those predictable bottom three and Hounds of Love coming top. In 2022, The Pink News again put The Red Shoes, Lionheart, 50 Words for Snow and Director’s Cut in the bottom four. Not a lot connecting these albums. Two are from 2011, so I am curious whether it is a generational thing or people not loving the modern Kate Bush albums. Director’s Cut and 50 Words for Snow not getting the love they deserve. I always feel Lionheart should be higher up. How much of these albums do people listen to before voting?! Hounds of Love once again top. What we can see is that there is this favourite across the board and four albums that will sit in the bottom four. A bit of change and shift with the other five, though we tend to see The Kick Inside and The Dreaming high up and The Sensual World, Never for Ever and Aerial lower. The fact 2005’s Aerial much more regarded than 2011’s 50 Words for Snow. So much to discuss when it comes to album and track rankings. If I did my top ten Kate Bush albums, The Kick Inside would beat out Hounds of Love. Never for Ever in third. I would have The Red Shoes and Director’s Cut in the bottom two, though Lionheart and 50 Words for Snow would be higher. In terms of song rankings, I would have Houidini at one and my top-rated Hounds of Love track would be The Big Sky – a song that never really gets affection or a high placing. It would be good to get other people’s views on the best Kate Bush songs and albums. What they think about various rankings and if there is a reason why there is a shift in popularity for various songs and time period – and why 50 Words for Snow is so underrated! I do like the mix of surprising placings, odd choices, the usual favourites and how these lists might shift and adapt in years to come. However, it is always upsetting to see great Kate Bush songs and albums…

LEFT out in the cold.