The Damned - "Machine Gun Etiquette" Vinyl, LP, Album, Reissue, 2016/1979 (Chiswick Records)

Is it even possible to dislike a band like The Damned?   I can see people hating Radiohead or Arcade Fire, but The Damned to me seems anti-hate proof, in that its purpose is to entertain and treat the world in a comic book vision, where one lives in a world of punk.  But the punk here is not one type of individual because The Damned represents unique individuals who are members of The Damned.   Rat Scabies is basically a Keith Moon, Algy Ward is the journeyman Punk rocker, Captain Sensible is the punk clown with color, and Dave Vanian is the goth king, but not on the goth planet, but the punk planet.  Clearly, on paper at the very least, a perfect band.  

The first two Damned albums had Brian James in the band, and he wrote all their material. Similar to Syd Barrett who was the chief writer for Pink Floyd, - when James left the group, the thought of the time was, 'there's no band without Brian James (or Syd).  Alas, the other musicians come up to the bat and somehow became even more successful than the original lineup.   "Machine Gun Etiquette" is very much the 'great' rock album.   One would say 'punk, ' but I feel that the music on this album goes beyond the punk, but at the same time, that aesthetic is very much the foundation for the record.  The fact that they had Nick Mason (they wanted Syd, but ...) produce their second album says a lot about their outlook and their presence in their own world, and how they look beyond the island of punk. 

Captain Sensible (proper name) as a guitarist has a robust approach to pop melody, and "Machine Gun Etiquette" is full of catchy and beautiful melodies.  The piano beginning of "Melody Lee" is one of my favorite pieces of music.  I can listen to a much longer version of that work, even if it lasts for one hour.  That is just an introduction when the song turns to the volume of 11, and while keeping the melody intact, it is like having a hyperactive child on one's lap.  The album is chaos, but it works from that format into a pop symphony of sorts. 

As I listened to it recently, it reminds me very much of The Who during their "A Quick One" and "The Who Sell Out" era.  Lots of thrashing with beautiful melodies, but also a sneaking ambition in song concept and projection.  At times, I even think of "Machine Gun Etiquette" as the great lost John Entwistle album.  Or for sure, if The Damned was just a touch younger, Kit Lambert would have surely signed them to Track Records, and produce their recordings.  Then again, perhaps that's my overactive imagination at work.  Nevertheless, "Machine Gun Etiquette" is an album that never ages. A beautiful piece of work. 

Cowboys International "Thrash" b/w "Many Times (Revisited)" 45 rpm vinyl single, 1979 (Virgin)

I have this thing about Cowboys International.   I need to own every recording by them, which includes their first album in U.S. and British edition, as well as all the singles that came from the album.  And I need to have it on CD.  The fear I have is that someone will either steal or borrow that album and never give it back.  So like a man who wanders into a market and buys all the bottled water to put in their 'safe room' in case disaster strikes - I feel the same way about Cowboys International's recordings. 

"Thrash" is the first song I have heard from Cowboys International, and it's a record that absorbed my soul.  When I listen to this cut, I feel I become one with it, as the object in front of me, but also the sound and voice of Ken Lockie.   The start of the synth beat that's both primitive and basic cuts through the noise that's inside my head.  Lockie's vocals are relaxed, thoughtful, and worldly.  It reminds me a bit of Morrissey when he's wishful and singing about a particular place.   Lockie writes in a similar mode, but not an actual place, but more of a location in the mind.  Something that sticks to one, because it's part of you.  

The beauty of "Thrash" to me, is a song about not communicating or not connecting to the world. The singer is conveying a world where nothing is being expressed fully, except he puts his arm around your shoulder, and then goes on. The word 'thrash' means to hit, strike, clobber and so forth.  There is this strange juxtaposition of two ideas at the same time.  One is someone giving comfort to another, but in a vague manner and two, the chorus is just the word "Thrash."  I never heard such a beautiful melody attached to a violent word.   Because of the violence and the helpful characteristics of the singer, the song is jarring and pulls the listener in different directions at the same time. 

"When everything not together I put my arms around your shoulder / the words that say won't mean anything/ change the face change everything/ Thrash, Thrash/  There's not one little thing I regret/ to spend my  time walking/ but don't forget the words/ they say won't mean anything / Thrash Thrash." There are no printed lyrics, so this is all due to me hearing the song.  Still, it conveys a singer who may be unbalanced, but again the melody is sad but upbeat.  Or perhaps as he states in the song, 'thrash' "won't mean anything."    The lyrics intrigued me (if I caught them rightfully, and if not, that's interesting as well).  For 38 years I have been thinking about this record.  I love it, but there is more to it, every time I hear it on my computer or on vinyl.  A remarkable piece of work that doesn't have answers, but makes one think about the Albert Camus like a sense of existentialism or being separated from thought and action. 

Pete Shelley - "Homosapien" Vinyl, LP, Album, 1981 (Arista)

One cannot ever underestimate the greatness of The Buzzcocks.  For one, Pete Shelley is one of the great songwriters of the Punk/New Wave era.  What gives Shelley that extra edge is his interest in not only rock n' roll, but also contemporary classical music and electronics.  When The Buzzcocks went to sleep for whatever reason, Shelley reinvented himself as a solo act that's focused on his songwriting, but also electronic pop.  It was nice that Shelley could express himself with the two guitars, bass, drums of The Buzzcocks, but also into the world of computer technology (at the time of 1981) and the so-called "modern pop.  

"Homosapien" is a great album, but the title song is a classic.  A piece of music that flirts with the idea of homosexuality in a song format, and under Shelley's brilliant skill as a lyricist.  I have the album version, but I also have the numerous remixes of this song, and it never fails in its dynamic getting out of the closet approach.  

The technique of Shelley both in The Buzzcocks and his solo material is that he often builds tension by just repeating the phrase or chorus till the breaking point.  There is also a circular motif in his work where it starts off but meets again in the end.  The listener feels like that they are surrounded by the song, and basically, you are trapped or motivated to go to the circle.   Besides Philip Glass, I can't think of another composer or songwriter who has this approach to their songwriting.  Songs like "Qu'est-Ce Que C'est Que Ca," "Guess I Must Have Been In Love With Myself," and " Don't Know What It Is" makes one feel that they are being pulled by a giant magnet to the song, and the lyrics are often mantras served as a lyric.  The songs are of heartbreak and love, but there is also a strong eastern philosophy or religious aspect as well. 

Pete Shelley is a very unique writer, and it bugs me that at least in the media, he is sort of this classic punk rock guy, but the fact is, he's much more than that.   He has a genius sense of having the perfect melody touch, as well as an emotional punch.   The Buzzcocks/Shelley rocks yes, but they also give the listener a feeling of bliss that for me, borders on meditation.  The Punk Era, both in the United States and in England, has produced a lot of great songwriters, but Shelley I feel should be on the top of the pile.  "Homosapien" is the essential listening experience. 

A Certain Ratio - "Early" CD Album

A Certain Ratio – Early

CD Album, UK 2002

Soul Jazz Records

Factory Records hit me hard as a young man in his super early 20's. Joy Division spoke to me at that age, and also the visuals were incredibly important as well. Ian Curtis was so haunted, it made my heart ache. But now, I can barely listen to their music. Not that I hate it, but more to the fact that the music doesn't speak for me anymore. I used it, it used me, and I was satisfied. Next!

For that label, and what a more lasting effect, is A Certain Ratio. The visuals of the band were even more striking to me than Joy Division. They had this sort of Lawrence of the Arabia without the robes look. Military baggy shorts, 1930's haircuts, thick boy scout or military socks that go up to the knee, and basically sort of look like British prisoners of war circa the early days of World War 2. And the music is …. dub jazz funk. It was like if Miles Davis started a British band in the late 70's. To me I think this was Factory Records head Tony Wilson's great discovery.

Early is the ultimate collection of all the early and hard to find singles by A Certain Ratio. The spacey dub effects and the self-obsessed funk makes this band the bad and slightly darker version of Joy Division's rock stance. If Ian and company looked up to Iggy, The Doors, and Velvets, then A Certain Ratio looked up to obscure funk singles and Miles electric music era. In many ways they perfectly complimented each other. But the lasting effect for me is A Certain Ratio. 

http://youtu.be/H-vgmjzjkLc