Roadrunner 4(11&12) December 1981 / January 1982

MODELS touring and recording in England; M odels have produced the m ost innovative and distinctive Australian album yet.

Local & /o r General produced

If yo u 're s e r io u s a b o u t m u s ic ! \ b u m u s t listen to th is a lb u m .

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MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU? TOGETHER THEY FORM

TALKING H E A D S INDIVIDUALLY THEY’RE EXPLORING NEW AVENUES IN MUSIC

JERRY HARRISON "THE RED & THE BLACK" The Talking Head's guitarist's first solo album with vocalist NONA HENDRYX

David B jm e

“'The Catherine Wheel”

A lbum - S R K 3631 Cassette — M 5 K 3 6 3 f

DAVID BYRNE Songs composed for the Twyla Thave Dance Foundation Production of "THE CATHERINE WHEEL" (Also featuring Adrien Belew & Brian Eno) A lbum - S R K 364 5 Cassette — M 5 K 3 6 4 5

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(Comprising TINA WEYMOUTH, CHRIS FRANTZ & STEVEN STANLEY) Features the single "WORDY RAPPINGHOOD" A lbum 6 0 0 1 0 8 Cassette — M 5 6 0 0 1 0 8

Give the Rift of music.

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Truth is stranger than fiction: Broderick Smith was the batman of South Australia’s new Gover­ nor, Lieutenant-General Sir Donald Dunstan (no — not S.A.’s ex-Premier). It was during Broderick’s two year period of National Service in the late sixties.

According to Broderick, Sir Donald is a ‘great guy’. Well, with a name like that, what else would you expect?

Plans welf in hand for the Reels to sign with Virgin for the U.K. according to singer Dave Mason, although the band will remain with Polygram in Aus­ tralia. There’s a lot of interest in the band after manager Sebas­ tian Chase’s recent overseas trip, and a trip to Europe in the first half of next year seems quite likely.

New Swingers singer, Andrew SmoicftjTNZ Pop, has^feverted to his real name of Andrew McLen­ nan. Word of his departure from NZ Pop came mere days after the Full Bench of the Federal Court upheld a court order restricting NZ Pop from using their original name (Pop Mechanix) in the cities of Sydney and Canberra. The court, in rejecting an appeal by C.B.S. against the restraining order ob­ tained by members of Sydney

More praise for Meibourne — based cassette mag Fast For­ ward (see feature eisewhere this issue) from Cynthia Rose in N.M.E. has resuited in a veritabie fiood of overseas or­ ders, according to co-editor Bruce Miine. FF008/009 shouid be out before Xmas and con­ tains 2V2 hours of Machina­ tions, Sardine, The Cure, ian Dury, Positive Noise, JFK and the Cuban Crisis (Brisbane) and about 30 other bands/ individuais. ^ Coid Chisel taking a heap of props us to Lake Eyre, a large salt lake in the north of South Australia, to shoot the cover of their next album, scheduled for release early next year. Pro­ ducer is again Mark Opitz, who will move straight onto Richard Clapton’s newie when Chisel are finished. Players on the Clapton album, which is quite a departure from the style which established his reputation, in­ clude Chisel’s ian Moss on guitar, drummer Jon Farris from INXS and Jimmy Barnes on backing vocals.

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Simple Minds were set to play at Sinatra’s, a large Adelaide nightclub/ex-disco, on Dec. 11th and 12th. The performance was hastily re-arranged when Sinat­ ra’s became the most recent late night casualty in a spate of Adelaide club firebombings late

Jim Kerr last month. The venue’s new promoter, Chris Loft, claims to have received an anonymous phone call the morning after which went something like, “ That’ll teach you to run rock’n’roll against us.”

band Popular Mechanics, said, “ It js not only likely, but almost In e vttabl 07 t b a T ^ ^ g rrifte a nt number of people interested in the music played by the two bands would be misled or deceived.”

ubiquitous Brian Eno. Talking Heads are due to start working on ^ ^u d io album in January, the group’s first since ‘Remain In Light’.

Mental As Anything, unable to put a picture sleeve on their ‘Berserk Warriors’ single due to a printer’s strike in Sydney, finger­ printed 3,000 white covers in­ stead. This took so much energy out of them that they’re taking a holiday until New Year’s Eve when they in association with the Reels will attempt to move Selinas into the Pacific.

Guess who was standing outside Sydney’s Sebel Town House when Ian Dury and his Blockheads arrived from the airport? None other than War­ ren ‘Alf Garnett’ Mitchell. Al­ though conversation went un­ recorded it is known a large quantity of jellied eels was delivered to the hotel in the dead of night.

First album from hot Mel­ bourne new music combo Hun­ ters and Collectors due out early next year on a new label called White Label, adminis­ tered by Michael Gudinski of Mushroom Records etc. Syd­ neysiders Sardine, subject to frenzied record company bid­ ding, are also likely candidates for the new label.

Steve Cummings has got a band together ‘for summer’ called Ring Of Truth. It includes Sports’ bass player Rob Glover.

Following hot on the heels of The Tom Tom Club (Chris Frantz and Tina Weymouth with others) and Jerry Harrison, fellow Talk­ ing Head David Byrne will be releasing his first solo album in the very near future. It’s songs adapted from the modern ballet ‘The Catherine Wheel’ (see last issue’s ‘New York, New York’) and while the L.P. record is a single album, the cassette is over twice as long (nearly 90 minutes.) backing musicians include Jerry Harrison, Bernie Worrell, Adrian Belew, Stephen Scales and the

“The first rehearsal they had was pretty crazy. They shut themselves in one small room, ate some West Country (magic) mushrooms and played for three hours without stopping.

After that most of the barriers had been worn down and they had more or less formed a group.”

The group is Pigbag, whose ‘Papa’s Got A Brand New Pigbag’ is scoring heavy alterna­ tive FM airplay around the country. And a nifty little number it is too.

“ If a Foster’s can hits you, you know you’re in A ustralia’’ — Robert Smith of the Cure, on touring.

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The Go-Go’s are five young women from Los Angeles who have just achieved the apparently impossible. ‘Beauty and the Beat’, their debut album, has soared into the American Top Twenty, a bright brash energetic pop icon amidst a sea of blunder­ ing dross and simpering candyfloss (Hi there Air Supply!)

Such a situation is wont to inspire suspision of con­ sumer pre-packaging, but according to guitarist Charlotte Caffey, there is no male Svengali (a la Kim Fowley/Malcolm McLaren) lurking in the wings. “ We’re doing what we want to do” , she insists from her New York hotel room. “ Our manager. Ginger, is a woman; we write all the songs and we’re in control over what happens. If there’s something we don’t want to do — we don’t do it!”

Charlotte and the rest of the Go-Go’s (Belinda Carlise — vocals, Kathy Valen­ tine — bass, Gina Schock — drums and Jane Wiedlin — guitar) came together in Los Angeles three years ago, more or less as a fun band, according to Char­ lotte.

“ None of us could really play our instruments in the beginning,” she says, “ but we always felt our songs were good.”

Probably the first impor­ tant break the band got was an offer from ska-funsters Madness, who they sup­ ported at the Whiskey A Go Go in L.A., to support the nutty boys on their U.K. tour. They jumped at the

chance and ended up doing twenty five dates with Mad­ ness, ten on their own and about twenty five with the Specials.

In fact the Go-Go’s cur­ rent single, ‘Our Lips Are Sealed’ was inspired by a letter Terry Hall of the Spe­ cials wrote to Jane Wiedlin. “ It’s about not really having a private life when you’re a public figure,” says Char­

lotte.

The Go-Go’s are signed to Miles Copeland’s label I.R.S. (the Illegal label in Australia.) Copeland is also manager of the Police and the five girls will be sup­ porting the peroxided ones on their world tour next year — a tour that will hopefully bring them down under. “ We’d really like to come to A u s tra lia ,” gushes

Charlotte. “ We’ve heard it’s a terrific place. And we’ve played with the Police a couple of times and they’re pretty cool guys.”

The G o-G o’s are the biggest thing to happen for I.R.S. so far (even though the label has such wonder­ ful people as the Cramps) and C harlotte is full of praise for Copeland, even though he had to chase

According to bass player John Taylor Duran Duran got their name from a character in the Jane Fonda/Roger Vadim film ‘Barbarella’ who peddled something called an ‘orgasmatron’.

No prizes for guessing what the machine did eh kiddies?

DURAN DURAN Beau Brummies Blasting Offi

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Duran Duran inspire ex­ treme reactions. Their sup­ port seems concentrated in the legions of boppers who have made the humble Ant a national hero, whilst to older ‘More S e rio us’ (choke) music fans, and I must admit to being one of them, it all seems a bit like warmed up left-over disco with the E m peror’s new clothes. Nothing like getting your prejudices up front I always say.

Unlike most of their con­ temporaries who surfaced from the club scene last year, Taylor on the phone from London, tells me that Duran Duran actually play live a lot, and actually enjoy it more than making records or videos.

The band’s first gig was at a Birmingham club called the Rumrunner, where the nucleus of the band, John Taylor, Roger (no relation) Taylor — drums, and Nick Rhodes keyboards used to hang out listening to New York disco records. With the addition of Simon Le Bon, a London drama student, on vocals and another nonrelation (“ Unless we all had the same milkman” jokes John) Andy Taylor on guitar, they offered a tape to club managers Paul and Michael Berrow, who were impressed enough to offer them the gig (the first live performance at the Rum­ runner) and moreover, their services as band mana­ gers.

The rest, as they say, is geography. EMI snapped the band up as the U.K. went club-crazy and ‘Planet Earth’ went into platinum orbit — Australia following not far behind.

Taylor tells me the band can only play theatres in the U.K. now, “ Because they don’t have 4,000 capacity

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them for nine months before they’d sign with him. “ We really understand the value of press after this to u r,” says C harlotte. “ We’re just finishing up a national tour and everywhere we’ve played there’s been a little story and a photo in the local paper. And all the dates have been sell-outs!”

So why do you think its’s all happening for you, right now? “ I kinda feel the timing is rig h t,” Charlotte muses. “ People like Debbie Harry and the two girls in the B-52’s have prim ed the public here. And I think we’re ready to handle it now — I don’t think we were last year.”

Do you feel like a bit of a spearhead? “ Yeah — we get girls coming up to us after we’ve played saying ‘I’m going to get a band together!’ And boys tool (laughs)” Please don’t mistake the Go-Go’s brand of fun for empty froth. There’s a little more substance there than the welter of promotional cliches would have you be­ lieve. But it is fun isn’t it Charlotte? “ Oh yes. It sure is.”

Donald Robertson clubs.” This means crowds can’t get down and get with it on the dance floor, “ but most of them dance in their seats anyway.” He also tells me that after a rest in January and recording in Feb. they’ll be touring Aus­ tralia in March.

Taylor tells me that the band is more than likely to use the same producer on the upcoming album. “ Colin Thurston gave us an abra­ sive sound that we didn’t really know we had— which was good because we were a bit overawed at going into a 48 track studio. We origi­ nally thought of getting Giorgio Moroder to produce that first album, but I’m glad we didn’t because it proba­ bly w ould’ve come out sounding like a Moroder record rather than a Duran Duran record. I think it’s probably a bit too early to start changing things around.”

All the songs on the first album are credited as band compositions. There are two reasons for this says Taylor.

“A lot of the songs start out as jams — I know it sounds old fashioned but that’s how it happens. We just get a riff or a rhythm going and build the song from there. The other thing is I think it’s a lot fairer if everyone in the band gets exactly the same amount of money. There’s no chance of ego problems or jealousy then.”

Duran Duran still live in Birmingham. “ We were at tracted to the bright lights of London,” Taylor laughs “ but because we’re away such a lot, we’ve only been home for two weeks in the last three months, it just seemed silly. Plus we know the lie of the land in Birm ingham . We know where the best clubs are the best restaurants. It’s great to go away and see new places, like we’re really looking forward to Australia cos Planet Earth has done so well, but it’s nice to know there’s somewhere you can relax and be yourself.”

Someone pass the plat form booties please.

Donald Robertson

THE D REA M S O F RRATS BA N D ER ". . . a sumptuous collaboration of rock and theatre..

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RRATS BANDER & THE DREAMS: L-R: Camille Gardner Kim Deacon, Rrats Bander, Suzette Waters,

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I write about my fantasies or people’s fantasies as I see them. You see my opin­ ions of the world fairly diffe­ rent from my opinions of myself and the way I con­

duct myself. For instance the way I conduct myself with you is so vastly diffe­ rent from the way I conduct myself when I’m In my bed­ room alone. I’ve found that I’m a fairly sort of empty

person in that I find that I have not very much character as such. I can be alone and do nothing and be nothing for days and weeks on end and I’m quite happy but when I look out and form my opinions of the way one should behave in the world, I find a lot of things that aren’t logical — that don’t make sense, and I think it’s those things that I write about.”

This seems an extraordinar­ ily self-effacing self-portrait of the man who goes publicly by the name Rrats Bander if one has seen him in action on the rock stage. Three years ago, as the first waves of the punk movement washed our shores, Rrats Bander took the stage with the most outrageous and enervating spectacle this country had seen in years.

Pumping out a hard rock blend of theatre and cabaret he had devised in Europe and England during his apprenticeship with Lindsay Kemp’s mime troupe, he left audiences in the Eastern states gasping. With massive energy and panache he would bump and grind through six costume changes and an hour and a half of exhilarating rock, cajoling all before him to the heights whether they were pre­ pared for it or not. It looked like we were about to witness a true ‘personality’ finally emerge in the rock scene when he drop­ ped from sight and was appa­ rently forgotten. (Though his mantle was quickly snapped up

by Ignatious and his band Jimmy and the Boys who set about recreating that energy through the schizophrenia of two bizarre front personalities).

It seemed that Rrats Bander was destined to be just a spuri­ ous footnote in some future history of Oz Rock. But in October this year, Rrats set about changing all that and now he seems set to overturn quite a few notions about himself and the rock scene. While working at a studio in Sydney on a number that had been a stage favourite, ‘Bootso Tango’, which he had cowritten with

Andrew Wilson, he met Michael Delaney, then working with Delaney/Venn-Neon Heart.

Rrats was enticed back into writing in the rock vein by Delaney’s obvious enthusiasm and respect for his work. Rrats has become intensely disil­ lusioned by the rock scene but his own recognition of the pos­ sibilities induced him to think it over.

The result is Rrats Bander and the Dreams, a sumptuous collaboration of rock and theatre that fuses the energy of jazz-funk-rhythm and blues with the style of the best in theatre and cabaret (in the form of the three ladies that make up the Dreams.) The ladies have a wealth of experience and that in itself is impressive. Camille Gardner was a graduate of South Australia’s Flinders Uni­ versity who managed to score the lead role of Eva Peron in ‘Evita’. She’s also spent a year in New York as a member of New Wave outfit the Mande Dahl band. Kim Deacon was most recently seen in ‘Hood­ wink’ as well as a number of cameo roles in Australian soapies Prisoner and Cop Shop, while Suzette Waters is an outrageous dancer who whips up a storm with her number ‘Hot Voodoo’. Together they are the embodiment of all your w ildest sexist dreams without being the slightest bit sexist in presentation. In fact, Rrats Bander would have to be one of the few rock lyricists working in the country who doesn’t write from any particu­ lar stand; macho, feminisl or whatever.

“I write about naughty angels as opposed to heavenly angels.

We write about the scriptures having a new meaning — of love and joy and party. I’m never sure of what I’m going to write about before I write, this is the way it comes out. It just always seems to have this slant and its always relevant to some particular point in the nature of things. I can only write if I blank out and it’ll happen in five minutes. I’ll have a whole song, the arrangements and all, but I

might have to wait tor days and weeks for it to happen. Michael will give me a feel (!) put on tape for a song and I’ll go away with it, or it will just come out straight away.”

The songs are provocative and the presentation is one of swishy elegance and verve. The old Rrats would vamp about the stage in the most bizarre of costumes and makeup taunting the audience to throw money that he might remove his clothing. The act contained an exhibitionistic narcissism quite extraordinary in rock, at least since Jim Morrison passed on.

Today Rrats opts for smooth sophistication, wrapped in black. But the show is changing all the time. With only half a dozen performances behind it, the band is already changing its costuming and there are six new songs to join the set and a whole new show planned for the new year. At a series of open rehearsals, Rrats pre­ sented a half hour snippet of the show and had all of Syd­ ney’s agencies clammering for a piece of it. In just under two months, the band is drawing capacity crowds wherever it plays (and he’s being very selective about that), breaking house records at some places set by bands like MiSex and Midnight Oil. The record com­ panies were similarly impres­ sed and a single and album are slated for early in the new year.

They have already done the support spots in Sydney for the Stray Cats and have been signed for the whole of the Bette Midler tour next year.

They work their first gigs in Melbourne in December and are perform ing the prime spot, midnight, at Sydney’s infamous New Year’s Eve celebrations at the Opera House. That’s the gig that last year saw Doc Neeson take a dive and Chris Bailey cop several stitches in the forehead. But whatever hap­ pens New Year’s Eve, Rrats has come back to stay and it’ll be interesting to see his effect on the rest of Australia when he starts major tours next year.

Michael Smith

Roadrunner 7

r C-30, C-60, C-90, GO! G O !! G O !!!

Tymne Flex examines Australia’s own cassette magazine that is moving fo rw a rd -fa s t! ion fast dubbing service and we It’d be so tempting (and jus­ tifiable) to launch into an ex­ cessive, full-tilt, over-the-top rave when talking or writing about Fast Forward, our home-grown state-of-themedia cassette/m agazine.

The idea and the superstruc­ ture are there and the actual item is running hot off the high-speed duplicators in ever-increasing numbers at bi-monthly intervals. This is more than just an extension or anomaly, this is a whole brave new ball-game, and there’s very little to stop the iceberg of which F.F. is the concerted cutting edge.

The cassette/“ m agazine” proposition is as obvious as the nose on your face, but how often do you ponder on the ol’ beak, let alone do much with it. Ever since Phillips threw the cassette into the media arena in the late ’60s, un­ suspecting souls have been “tap­ ing home to mother” and trans­ planting vinyl records onto cas­ sette for pleasure and profit. Since 1973, Bill Furlong’s been running o a cassette publication, A u d » Arts,” forging holes in the frontier, discovering the delights and prob­ lems inherent in the cassette for­ mat. The crazy thing is that at pre­ sent, even with a veritable cas­ sette explosion, few groups or in­ dividuals have taken the Audio Arts lead and brought out more of the vast potential within the com­ pact cassette. F.F. personnel have been desperately searching under garden gnomes, typewrit­ ers and such for others attempting to use the cassette/magazine on a periodical basis, but to no avail.

The extra craziness is that the format is so flexible and low in overheads that even a few indus­ trious “ dole-bludgers” could mount the project with a reasona­ ble chance of success.

To trace the brief history of this particular project is to initially find Bruce Milne and Andrew Maine, mid 1980, contem plating An­ drew’s unemployed condition and the need to do something with the then unrepresented (albeit low ebb) Melbourne scene. (Much of the interview quoted below was also verbally lubricated by Michael Trudgeon, third element in the F.F. mix).

MT: “The original idea was to start up a magazine that would be like a fanzine, but to use a lot of sound give-aways, like flexi-discs and maybe cassettes. There seemed to be room in the market for the music both Andrew and Bruce had access to.”

BM; “ I guess the other thing is that if you write about a small band in a magazine, there might be 30 people who’ve seen (heard) the band play, whereas this way we could get the music across in­ stead of just writing about it. We’d

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heard about getting cheap casset­ tes from EMI. All their albums that don’t sell on cassettes are bulk erased, so we thought we’d stick a cassette in with the mazazine.

Then we thought more about what needed to go into print and what needed to be on cassette. The cassette idea evolved and the printed thing was no longer the dominant idea.”

MT: “ It was more a context than an end in itself.”

After the initial conception Bruce and Andrew realised they needed a third set of perspectives to deal adequately with the physi­ cal side of the cassette concept.

BM: “ Andrew mentioned he knew a guy who could do graphics, and I thought, ‘Great, he can do a pretty cover on the cas­ sette.’ It didn’t work out like that (putting it mildly). Michael took to the idea and because it was a new thing, he wanted to really do something interesting with it.”

M T:“ From the graphics end, it’s that the cassette has never really been packaged, and even from the recording point of view, you tend to think of a cassette as a cheap imitation of a record. Pac­ kaging’s the same, you pick up a record or magazine and there’s something there that’s consuma­ ble by its volume and shape. A cassette is (usually) a small, mis­ erably packaged object that has no intrinsic aesthetic qualities. I think we’ve demonstrated that that’s not the case. It’s small, compact, “ new” , and a different kind of feel.”

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The single-style F.F. was un­ veiled Oct. ’80 and issues No. 2 and No. 3 followed suit, No. 3 com­ ing closes to a totally integrated fold out poster. Michael’s vision then propelled F.F. to its present format and hinted at future pos­ sibilities.

MT: “ We became dissatisfied with that (format) and started de­ veloping the notion of packaging

further. Andrew and I spent a fair amount of time chomping around to various companies, tossing around the different ways you could package a cassette — in vinyl somehow, in soup cans, cardboard boxes, sardine cans, PVC moulded shapes, or even au­ tomotive parts. Looking through the phone book for people work­ ing with vinyl, we discovered

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Vogue Plastics, a tiny place in Richmond, and the guy turned out to be fantastic, I set to designing a pouch with his samples in mind.

We agreed that there had to be provision for a fold-out poster and cassette, and Andrew was adam­ ant that the fold-out should be like a book and a poster simultane­ ously. We ended up with a book­ sized package easy to accept in terms of size and shape. It’s no longer a single, or record, or magazine! But the idea has al­ ways been that we’ll try anything new. While we’re mobile finan­ cially, it’s not going to cost us any more to move from one thing to another. When you’re looking for future issues, you may not be looking for a vinyl pouch at all.”

With the flexible format prece­ dent in the bag, the next task was practically refining the standard of the component parts, the most obvious being the cassette itself.

MT: “ A lot of the first issue went out on old Johnny Farnham cas­ settes, there were even a few an­ cient Grateful Dead, I think.”

BM: “The first ones were all dif­ ferent lengths, Andrew used to have to listen thru them and time them. We initially needed about 46 minutes. Now it’s about 60-64 minutes and going up each time, but w e ’re im proving the way they’re run off and the quality of the tape.”

MT: “ We’re now probably at the top of pre-recorded tape quality in Australia.”

AM: “ We’ve gone past the re­ cord companies who use the Klar-

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use Ampex Grand Master tape.”

BM: “Thing is, with F.F., after you’ve listended to it, you could erase it, and the tapes are top quality. It would cost you the same if you bought them new!”

In the area of content, F.F.’s obvious raison d’etre, Andrew and Bruce drew on their years of ex­ perience in radio and various Au­ stralian music scenes. Bruce, along with the now infamous Stuart ‘so what about Srpingsteen’ Coupe and dear ol’ Donald McRobertson, was part of the orig­ inal Roadrunner editor-pool, and both A. and B. have long-standing 3RRR records and Missing Link associations.

BM: “ We were both surrounded by a lot of music and a lot of groups, thru triple R, Missing Link, and the Demo Derby we were doing (a radio show funnelling di­ verse demo tape material). There was a hell of a lot of stuff around, but no real outlet.”

MT: “ There’s no real infra­ structure in the media for getting that stuff played or ‘out.’ There isn’t that same structure of little record companies that ther is in Britain because the population horo isn’t big onough to suppotl that kind of company. But we are an alternative to that in a sense.

We can give a base of support and we don’t need as much money.

It’s not like putting out records and more people are prepared to buy something that covers a wide var­ iety of things.”

BM: “The written rock media in Australia doesn’t really try to cover everything that’s going on. In fact, different papers seem to just take a section and stick to it. Ram and Roadrunner each take th eir corner of the market.”

MT: “ But you saw a whole sec­ tion that wasn’t being covered, that was growing up, as well as growing. We’d have to say that in a sense we were the product of a trend that has allowed smaller groups to operate in the music in­ dustry here. There are smaller re­ cord companies and there are or­ ganisations like triple R that we can get access to as people who aren’t part of larger record com­ panies.”

BM: “ But we’re still very much a magazine, not a record label.”

Fast Forward’s position, to a certain extent in the grey area between record company and magazine, requires a strict code of editorial control to keep things within legal and ethical limits. It also opens up obvious pos­ sibilities for bands and people seeking ‘outlets’ for audio art.

BM: “ Bands like to have articles written about them and their photos taken, but with Fast For­ ward they should also think about having their music played.”

MT: “ We deal with non-record stuff, or material that hasn’t been released in any other form, like live recordings, tapes done spe-

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cially for us or previously unreleased demo tapes. The scoop on the first issue was Pel Mel, a Syd­ ney band, and their track, “ No Word From China” became one of the first things to come out on vinyl (on Gap Records) after appearing in Fast Forward.”

BM: “ Firstly, we were just deal­ ing with independent labels, but like in the next issue (No. 8, No. 9), the Cure, they understood the idea straight away and said, ‘send us the interview, we’ll put some music with it, do the graphics and sent it back.’ Kraftwerk are the same (hopefully). Things like that would make other labels aware of the possibilities. Mental as Any­ thing have given us a track and are doing a comedy band bio on tape.

It’s a musical magazine, but it’s not just a collection of tracks.

We’re trying to work out better ways of putting down on tape, and in print, what we want to present, in such a way that the tape and booklet flow.”

MT; “ Since it’s a new medium, the possibilities may not reflect what’s gone on in other media. For instance, we can inject an element of comedy that can’t appear in a m agazine. T here’s the whole thing of sound collage and man­ ipulating sound itself. Someone like Jeff Ansell (present on recent issues and a candidate for a fourth position on the F.F. board) is working in the area of comedy de­ liberately aural.”

BM: “And he does graphics to go with it, so he uses our medium to its full extent.”

AM: “ We’ve also got a tape of Public image and the riot they were in at the Ritz in New York.”

BM: “ I know we can’t put them on playing but they didn’t ‘play’ at that gig, just sounds of people throw ing bottles and stuff at them.”

AM: “ Another example (of other possibilities) is that a guy in New York is doing something for us on the whole ‘rap’ thing where he wants to get a demo of what’s in­ volved in a ‘rap’ disco.”

BM: “We’ve moved a long way from our first question-andar\swer interviews, that’s obso­ lete. We often take away the questions, just getting bands making short statements. You just keep editing down a 40 minute interview until it’s 2 V2 minutes long.”

AM: “ There’s a multitude of ways of doing it and it’s up to us to explore theni all.”

MT: “To establish a vocabulary of techniques and cliches for this cassette format.”

AM: “ Radio, in that sense, is similar to what we’re doing. One thing we lean on heavily is our radio experience, but some of the traps we’ve fallen into have been because of that.”

MT: “ In a sense, the medium is beginning to define itself. It’s a hybrid and the combination hasn’t been around before, so there are new fields of alternatives which aren’t suggested by precedents.”

To a certain extent, more so than a normal magazine, F.F. also has a bit of the archival tendency built into it. A cassette/magazine is the ideal place for giving those of us in the public mass a chance to piece together and learn from phenomena long gone, previously unrecorded or downright obscure.

BM: “The intention is to cover things including really small bands who may not be heard of again, They should be captured at that particular tim e, th e y’ve got something that vyould otherwise just disappear. There’s so much of it and if we had the time and the money, we could put out so much more.”

MT: “ There’s Alan Bamford’s enormous library of tapes of Mel­ bourne’s ‘little bands’ that played in 1980. He’s actually putting out a double album, somewhere bet­ ween here and 1990, called ‘Slow D ram a,’ and he’s allowed us tracks he has but intends not to use. That was an amazing scene that people hearing those tracks wondered how they’d missed, and wished that they hadn’t.”

The obscurity F.F. is fighting is as much current and future as it is past, and the sphere if influence it is creating is of necessity a hail of information attempting not to form any predesired lump but to outline as many hives of activity as posr sible and Idt the listendrs decide for themselves. ,

F.F.’s initial focus was on Mel­ bourne,' but even the early single-style issues include mate­ rial from Perth, Sydney and New­ castle. Now there’s a desperate need for more people like Virginia M oncrearth, official Sydney editor, to act as “ ear-to-theground” funnels in other states, especially Adelaide, Perth, Bris­ bane, and New Zealand. More communication from Tasmania, N.T. and the A.C.T. would also be a good thing. Another aspect of F.F. that sets it apart from organi­ sations like printed magazines is a much closer possible relationship with you the garden variety audi­ ence. A spot on the cassette is only as far as a portable cassette recorder and an interesting set of sounds away, w hether those sounds be made by a band, a yodelling tapdancer or a closet aural genius, matters not.

Spreading the word and giving adequate feedback seems to be a function the more established media (magazines like this, and T.V. included) are loathe to per­ form, wittingly or otherwise. A few publications have given relatively miniscule mention of F.F.’s exis­ tence and mode of operation and even fewer (none) have had the sense to review each F.F. release.

After all, in terms of interesting in­ formation and aural enjoyment, each vinyl pouch is at least as im­ portant as half a dozen singles, but maybe the more indirect link with record company profits has kept a few eyes/ears (and pens) closed. But then, there was that (vague) mention on Countdown not so long ago.

BM: “When it came on, we’d just finished working on the next issue and felt really screwed, so we sat down to watch Countdown and when he (Molly) held it up we were screaming at the top of our voices so we didn’t really hear it.

When we listened back the next week I think he thought it was the new album by M agazine. He seemed to say, ‘Here’s the new Magazine? . . . the new Magazine album . . . on cassette.’ ” MT: (with an air of temporary resignation) “ Fast Forward sends copies to a lot of people.”

Even with such ridiculous inter-m edia relationships, the reactions (and sales) from the people that count, the general populus and politically unaligned individuals of note, have been very positive.

BM: “ We were surprised by the response, not just in Australia, but overseas as well.”

MT: “ 250 were printed for number one, and by the third one we were running 500.”

BM: “And for the latest, we did 2,000 initially.”

AM: “ It was always world domi­ nation from the word ‘go’!”

One of the remaining mysteries is why more cassette magazines haven’t sprung up like mush­ rooms. Maybe it’s too early in the season to see them but when you consider that a recent starter in the printed m agazine steaks (munch, munch) LIKE M el­ bourne’s Vox needed $2,000 to run its first issue and F.F. mounted its first no-slouch effort on a mere $200, it’s obvious that the gate is open. The matter of advertising is not the problem it is for other media.

AM: “ We’ve never thought in terms of ‘making money’ out of advertising. We worked it out in such a way that we didn’tneed the ad money. The dependence most magazines have on ad money is strangling at times and manipula­ tive too.”

It’s awful close to rewind time now, but just before the final wind-up, you should get the F.F. contact address firmly imprinted on your ferro-chrome memories.

FAST FORWARD BOX 5159AA G.P.O., MELBOURNE, VICTORIA, AUST. You may have been pondering the references and ramifications of the name Fast Forward, so to final cadence on the obvious, try and imagine perky but slightly nasal tones of one Bruce Milne pouring the following information into your shell-like ears. “ One of the myths of Fast For­ ward is that people think you should listen to it from beginning to end, over and over, but, do you pick up N.M.E. and start at the top of page one and read to the end.

You’ve got to get up and push the fast forward button occasionally!”

People think it's like us and them . . . but it's not.

I t

Scott Matheson visits The Numbers

The Numbers’ house is full of original art works and their back verandah looks out ac­ ross the western reaches of Sydney Harbour. Lasagne, and bread and butter custard for dessert are cooking in the kitchen. This is not a very rock and roll household. Good, I’m not feeling very much like rock and roll.

The Numbers are back on deck again after the internal turmoil which marred the early part of the year for them. Currently they’re in the studio recording that all im­ portant second album, with Buzz Throckman recently of the Angles twiddling the knobs. A year has passed since the band graced the pages of this paper so it must be about time some of the gaps of the last twelve months are filled in.

The rise to fame of this band seemed very quick to an observer.

One minute no one had heard of them, the next they had an inde­ pendent single and the first XTC tour. Then, two hit records. And good ones at that. They’ll tell you of the year spent slogging away before Delux stepped in. But quick and easy is the way it seemed.

Then followed a rough patch, with the new single, ‘Jericho’, failing to even nudge the charts. How are things with the record company these days?

Chris: “ Good, we’re now getting the freedom we though we were going to get . . . Initially we didn’t but now yes. Originally they had very definite ideas about how they wanted to market us. You know, being a teenage band. We did a lot of highschool stuff and that sort of thing. It’s easy to drift along with that when you’re first starting.”

Annalisse: “The only good part about that highschool thing was that the kids could see a band they wouldn’t normally be able to see.

And that was the basic reason the Numbers did it, not because we wanted a lot of promotion playing to young kinds or we wanted to be a pop band or something. ” Chris and Annalisse Morrow are the chief spokespeople for the Numbers. New bassist Garry Roberts sits quietly beside Chris, taking it all in, and drummer Marty Newcombe is off somewhere else. I don’t think anyone is disputing Chris and Annalisse’s leading roles. They are the perfect pop fodder (not w ithstanding Chris’s goatee beard). But if the Numbers w ear an albatross around their necks, to them it is that very popness. Did you object to being . . .

Chris: “Teenage? ” Yeah, moulded in that sort of way. “ Yes we went into it saying yeah, yeah, we’ll be teenage, always assuming that we’d have that pub market anyway. But it didn’t work that way unfortunately.

It became very frustrating. When you first start out, you trust people.

Now I don’t trust anyone.

“All through the time of that first album we had this identity crisis.

You’d turn around and people’s attitude to the band would be that we were just a bright young pop band, some media band, same Countdown fodder. Which was really disappointing. It wasn’t a very satisfactory working period.

Everyone in the band was very bitter at the time. So we went off ■the, road in January.”

I’m sure they would have made far more money sticking with what they had. But then followed the abortive excursion into what Chris described as “a more sophisti­ cated keyboards sound.” “ Basically you set out to bring about some minor change, some minor improvement to the medium you’re working in. But the machin­ ery we had around us was not mentally agile enough to realize what we were doing. We were a pop band that was trying to do something a little bit new. “ Now over the last 12 months we’ve tried to get everything right.

From who’s in the band to what we play to who does our live sound and who produces our records and how we’re marketed.”

So were you disappointed when the new single “Jericho" disap­ peared without trace?

Annalisse: “There were lots of reasons for that. But we were very happy with it because as far as we were concerned it was the closest sound we could get, the most true to us. It’s a lot heavier. It sounds like how we sound live and basi­ cally that was what we wanted.

We d id n ’t want another nice song.

But you knew it wasn’t going to be as likely a shot at the charts as the last two?

Chris: “ We were completely aware of what we were doing when we went in to record the song. The reaction doesn’t sur­ prise us in any way. it doesn’t make us bitter or anything like that. It’s strange because the song ‘Jericho’ . . . looking around at other bands at the moment, get­ ting ‘Jericho’ on the radio is like getting Public Image on the radio.”

I think at this point, Chris is getting a little enthusiastic. Maybe 2SM are only exercising a little taste by not playing it. I really don’t consider it a patch on ‘Five Letter Word’. But continue. “ Because the perspective of the sounds, the way it’s played, the type of song it is, beside all the other records at the moment. Matt Finish, INXS, it doesn’t sound anything like them. So the reac­ tion of people hasn’t surprised us at all.”

Is this the direction we can expect on the second album?

Annalisse: “There’s going to be lots of different things on the album. We might have the same problem as with the single. People will say, oh that’s not the Num­ bers. ’ They always say the second album is the hardest. Do you feel under pressure? “ No, we’re just going in this time with our eyes open.”

Continues Chris: “ We’re going in with a producer we’re happy with. We’re going to go in and refine the ‘Jericho’ sound a little bit more. Fast, dynamic, melodic songs. We’ve got 28 songs writ­ ten. And we’ve really gone about re-establishing what the band’s sound is.”

What do Deluxe say about it when previously you could sell a lot of records? “ Well you’re taking the attitude that the next thing is not going to work.”

No, butthen ‘Jericho’ didn’t sell.

You might have been happy with it artistically. ;^But there are very specific reasons why ‘Jericho’ didn’t sell.

Apart from it being a very radical single to get on the radio. I’m not going into those reasons in an interview.”

What, you didn’t get record company support? “ No, I’m not going into it. But on a creative level, speaking to people about it, people in the industry, other record companies, a lot of musicians, everyone really likes it. They say it’s the best thing the band has done.”

What do you thing about the Australian rock industry then. Is it like bashing your head up against a brick wall?

Annalisse: “ It’s the same as any industry. There are a handful of people really worth dealing with.”

Chris: “The most disappointing thing is that the number of people who are worthless in this industry is the same as any other industry, the bread manufacturing industry, anything. But this one is supposed to be creative. But it’s got the same amount of non creative people.”

So how long are you going to continue against that conser­ vatism? “ There’s two levels. ‘Jericho’ stiffed. Commercially I was disap­ pointed, but artistically I was very happy. And that’ll be the case with the album also. You always weigh up financially whether it’s worth getting out of bed in the morning to play in a rock and roll band. It sounds like we’re being really negative.”

Alright, enough of that. Let’s hear some more about the band itself. How important are your lyrics to the Numbers?

Chris: “ I can’t believe some people write the lyrics and put them out with the songs that they do. They have a vehicle there they can use. I’m not talking about writing songs about yellow cake or uranium. There’s nothing I hate more than those second hand Bob Dylan type protest songs.”

But you can be a lot more subtle than that. “ Yeah, it’s no good conveying some political idea to someone.

What counts is communicating a piece of human emotion that can touch somebody. It’s the quality of the image and how selective you are in what you do.”

Do you have any lyric writers you admire? “ I really like Paul Weller and Pete Townshend, John Cooper Clarke, Elvis Costello.”

Judging by Chris’s on stage antics, he admires not only Pete Townshend’s lyrics. A fair bit of time with a tennis racket in front of a mirror must have gone into those leaps. Static on stage is one thing he’s not. “ But really if you’re looking for good lyrics in rock and roll, you’re looking for a tennis court in the Sahara Desert. You’re better off just going and reading Graham Greene or something like that.”

Speaking of whom, I think that just about might be the end of the affair. Anything significant to add?

Chris: “ I just hope it doesn’t come out too negative what we’re saying, because in the period we’ve been going, we’ve been through heaps and heaps.”

Annalisse: “ In interviews we’ve done we’ye appeared very defen­ sive but it’s only because of mistakes we’ve made in the past.

People think it’s like,us and them but it’s not.” ^ vj ; ;

Scott Matheson Roadrunner 9

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“ W e ’r e a m u s ic a l la x ­ a t iv e f o r a c o n s t ip a t e d s o c i e t y . ” Devo, New

York, 1981 Th e audience was made up of witches, cats, ghosts, elephants, cave men and women — faces hidden be­ hind exotic masks, garish paint. It was Halloween in New York, the perfect night for Devo to come to town. As they said later: “Every day is Halloween for us!’’

The audience was also proof positive that the marketing/ merchandising arm of Devo is, as has been claimed, the most successful part of Devo global enterprises. Yellow Devo suits mixed with official new traditionalist T-shirts and “ac­ tion vests”. Right down the front of New York’s plush Radio City Music Hail, the die-hard devo-tees proved it by wearing those ridiculous red flower-pot hats — claimed by the band, tongue-in-cheek, to be energy domes, capturing and recycling the body’s energy as it, mais naturellement, rises.

When Mark Mothersbaugh stomps and sings his way ac­ ross the stage, the red hats rise up out of the audience in front of him and their wearers ges­ ticulate wildly. Two extravagant home-made hats stand out in the crowd. Looking rather like large metal kitchen bowls, they have lights that flash and helicopter-style propellers that actually go round.

This show, which I imagine will be thefone you get to see early in the new year in Aus­ tralia, is a multi-media presen­ tation, opening with the video clips the band have made for three numbers from their New Traditionalist LP — Through Being Cool, Love Without Anger and It’s A Beautiful World. Their set, which features an elaborate lighting arrangem ent and small, moving footways which allow the band to move in and out of the assembly while standing still, rises up out of the orchestra pit. The set itself is like the front of a miniAcropolis, with columns made of light. These lights, which are comparable in complexity with those carted around by Gazza Human on his last world con­ quest, offer an almost endless array of combinations.

10 Roadrunner

D e v o ’s music is presented with the same kind of care and attention. Much of it is supplied by tapes (in fact, someone who saw the show from way up In the gods, swore he saw another guitarist playing behind the speakers). Some people will no doubt find this taped music unacceptable and compare it with the hidden tapes employed

by ELO and the synth player Cheap Trick kept discreetly off stage. But given that Devo are quite open about it (and so much of their music comes out of synthesisers anyway — hardly the most riveting “live” instrument), I didn’t find it any problem. And the tapes were hardly an indication of slack­ ness. The band gave the show everything they had, both in terms of detailed planning and energy of execution.

Devo provided a selection encompassing material from all their albums, including Un­ controllable Urge, Gut Feeling and Jocko Homo from their first, a large serving from their latest, and, of course, the big one for them. Whip It, which was a giant club hit for the band last year (and even got them onto the black music charts).

Like much of the Devo opus, Whip It was misinterpreted, prompting a long line of inter­ view questions about their “S/M song”. While one can sympathise with their frustra­ tion at the need to be constantly explaining just what it is they are on about, Devo certainly, in part, invite such m isun­ derstanding. While it’s often easy to see what they are against (technocracy and con­ formity), what they are actually for tends to get lost in the welter^ of post-hippy sci-fi.

Alan Myers

Bob Motbersitaugh

r \ t times Devo seem to make their audience the target of their rather obscure satire. By their lookalike robotoid dress, the band risks becoming part of (and celebrating) that mindless mass of American spud-ism they want to shake up. Whip It, for example, was a send-up of the “go-get-’em” ambition and drive to succeed that is the back-bone of American busi­ ness. What a subject for a disco hit!

In fact, Devo have created for themselves much the same set of problems that have in the past confronted Australian satirists like Dave Warner and Bob Hudson. With Warner, for example, you could see a song-writer, desperately trying to critically examine Aussie suburban-boyism, being joined by a vast sea of suburban boys chug-a-lugging their Fosters and singing along with great gusto. With what despair must such performers contemplate such scenes. No wonder they become radio announcers — or retire.

For Devo, the trouble is even more vexatious because at the same time as they deplore conform ity, their very mer­ chandising policy encourages fans to look just like them. (With ail bands this kind of copying is almost inevitable, but Devo have turned it into a business. A Devo fan is almost as recognis­ able as a Kiss fan. Will we have the Devo Army marching up George Street next?) And it’s hard to find a solution for Devo.

A more heavy-handed political approach (say, like the Gang Of Four) would shunt them out of me mainstream pop arena quicker than you can say “de­ volution”. Their clip for It’s A Beautiful World does suggest.

Mark Mothersbaugh

how ever, that they are aware of the issue. This is one of their most successful videos in that the images provide an informa­ tive juxtaposition with the words. While Mothersbaugh sings inanely about a beautiful world, we are shown the real world. The conclusions are in­ escapable and the visuals ac­ tually enhance the song’s satiric intent. The New Traditionalists image itself is an obvious comment on Reagan’s U.S.A. The plastic collegiate haircuts and the whole notion of a new traditionalist fit in so well with the current smug attitude in this country which makes being conservative fashionable.

v J f course, it’s possible to enjoy Devo, live and on disc, purely as dance music made by a bunch of weirdos from Akron, Ohio — in fact, it was their bizarro-hum orous aspect which drew many people to them initially. They obviously have more serious intentions — political subversion, through the feet if not the head. Whether it is possible to achieve this through mainstream pop, especially if you hide your in­ tentions under a comic book sensibility, is another question altogether. W hatever level you’re interested in, their Au­ stralian shows should be worth catching — an evening of music by people who really care.

I W h lat’s , the first thing I see when I walk into the Savoy to see the 1981 King Crimson?

A guy in a King Crimson tour T-shirt, with his back to me, revealing the legend: “Dis­ cipline is never an end in itself, only a means to an end”. A fine sentiment. Pro­ blem is, its wearer is dead­ falling-down drunk. Further on into the crowd, it be­ comes obvious that old King Crimson fans never die.

Ninety five per cent male, the crowd is drugged, drunk and rowdy. No wonder Robert Fripp, the ascetic but hip guitarist — and essence of King Crimson past and present — said rather wist­ fully, when I spoke to him a couple of days before the New York shows, that he wished the American audi­ ences were a little less wild and a little more prepared to tune in and “work with” the band.

The reviving of King Crim­ son, the heavy art-rock band which fought its way through endless line-up changes and the peculiar sociopsychological peccadilloes of the years 1969 to 1974 (in the process spawning ELP, who perfected and sold that mix of classical and rock music that King Crimson strove for), has been received, as Fripp foresaw, with some derision from the critics. It should be noted that two of the current band’s four members were pre­ sent in the last line-up of that ill-starred band — Fripp himself (founder and constant member throughout) and drummer Bill Bruford.

When these two got together with Adrian Belew (guitarist, played with David Bowie and Talking Heads) and Tony Levin (bass player, worked with Peter Gabriel, Paul Simon), they had the idea of calling the band Discipline. For who knows what reasons, Fripp (student of the

THE CRIMSON KING HOW S COURT AT THE Sa/O Y. Gurdjieff school of mysticism, and certainly a man not driven by crass commercial motives) decided that this band “was King Crimson”. What the hell!

■ he LP itself, Discipline, is terrific — a mixture of the best of Talking Heads (funky but African opening cut, Elephant Talk, is reminiscent of I Zimbra from Fear Of Music) and Fripp’s interest in guitars and technology — explored with tape delay systems, etc and called Frippertronics — a continuation of the sort of experimenting he and Brian Eno began together in the years after King Crimson.

But the strength of Discipline lies in the competence of the four players and the fine chemistry working between the two guitarists. The vocals on the LP are all written and deli­ vered by Belew. He reveals himself to have both an impres­ sive singing voice and a keen sense of humour. In Elephant Talk, he almost runs away with himself with his jokey word­ plays, showing us that in the end it’s all just “elephant talk”.

He also uses this sort of “spo­

ken” vocal to good effect on Thela Hun G injeet, his tongue-in-cheek monologue on crime — set in New York city — “this is a dangerous place”. But when he really stretches out on Matte Kudasai, his singing is quite pure and rather moving.

Discipline is musically di­ verse, covering heavy raunch (Indiscipline) and moody lyri­ cism (The Sheltering Sky, in­ spired by the Paul Bowles’ novel of the same name). Fripp says of the record: “It’s my best — (pause) — for a long time.”

M l.eantime, back in the Savoy, the band walk onto a darkened stage, take up their instruments and begin to play. As their instrumental doodling finds its way into Thela Hun Ginjeet, the spots come up on all but Fripp, who sits on a stool in semi­ darkness throughout the entire performance. (Is he trying to keep his tricks a secret?)

There’s a lot of laughter on stage and the four obviously enjoy playing together (Tony Levin even takes photos of the others in the odd gap where he’s not required). Adrian Belew, whose vocals are not

quite as impressive live as they are on vinyl, is the focal point of the whole show, and his rodent-like features are almost constantly fixed in a maniacal grin as he pushes his guitar to the limit. His between-numbers patter is not exactly sparkling, however (“Hello, Big Apple”), but for the imaginary guitarists around me, words are irrelev­ ant. Here they are with not one, but TWO, bona fide guitar heroes!

The tough numbers on the album are tougher still in per­ formance, but King Crimson still battle gamely to infuse the beery knees-up in the club with some of the more subtle as­ pects of their music. Over the quiet opening notes of The Sheltering Sky and M atte Kudasai (which could almost be from an Eno record), a steady stream of “shhhh’s” eventually drowns out the “awright’s”.

In the hour and a half of music, all the material on Dis­ cipline is covered and a couple of other numbers thrown in, including some reworked old K.C. (shock, horror). From the next King Crimson LP, we get Neal And Jack And Me -Absent

Lovers (based on guess who?

Yes, the Cassadys and Kerouac), which is no great musical departure from the D iscipline stuff. Guitarists Fripp and Belew work together superbly, using the instrument as an electronic device rather than an electrified musical in­ strument. In many ways they pick up from where Hendrix left off, not in his exploration of the blues, but in his experimenting with the electronic aspects of the instrument. It really is ex­ citing to hear Belew draw trum­ peting elephants and chatter­ ing monkeys from his strings.

The funky underpinning pro­ vided by Tony Levin with his bass gizmo (sort of like a stick with strings) and Bill Bruford with his eccentric but com­ prehensive state-of-the-art collection of things to hit, gives the guitarists’ playing a sense of forward motion that never allows them time to get selfindulgent.

You might remember I men­ tioned Bob George and his catalogue of independent music — Volume — in my last column. Well, Bob and his part­ ner Martha Defoe are preparing Volume II, which will have a large publishing house dis­ tribution — so it should be available in Australia. If you want to be included in this edition, send details to Bob George, 110 Chambers Street, New York, NY 10007. Bands should send bios, labels should send catalogue information.

Volume also lists radio stations — send playlist or programme guide as well as frequency, address, etc. Fanzines, of course, should send details/ sample copy. Clubs, record stores and distributors that support independent music can also be included, as well as booking agents and manage­ ment companies. George and Defoe need all this information by the end of December. The typing begins January 1st, 1982.

SAT 2 JAN San Miffuel,Sydney.

SUN 3 JAN Sydney Trade Union Club WED 6 JAN Sydney Uni Refectory, JAN 8-10 Brisbane.

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To Roadrunner Magazine: I read Adrian Ryan’s report on the Jumpers and Foreign Body in Melbourne with some disgust.

Adrian, it seems, is one of the many in the m usic industry afflicted with the belief that only the Eastern states can produce original and popular music, and writes his articles accordingly. He seems to know little of the history of the Jumpers when he tags them “third generation ska” . Mr. Ryan would do well to check up on a few basic facts before slagging the Jumpers, who were formed in early 1978, before the melodious riffs issuing from the English Reggae/Ska bands graced our shores. Whilst our fair scribe, Mr. Ryan, may have had a long and fruitful career as a rock journalist, he would do well to stick to his penis and pencils, rather than try and formulate criticisms such as “ unrem arkable bassist” and (shock, horror) “ no guitarist” .

Michael Hope’s bass playing lends a melodious and powerful basis to the Jumpers original sound, and the combination of bass, organ and saxophone has given them an integrated sound very few other Australian bands have. But please, Mr. Ryan, hang on to your pants! The Jumpers now have a guitarist — so you will never again need to be affronted by the sight of an Australian band not doing their bit for conserve/a/ five Australia.

Yours, Tim Cannon.

Dear Adrian Ryan, You have no faith in bands that put so much into the Australian Rock Industry that I can’t see the point of you as a rock journalist.

Now, before you go wondering to hell what I’m raving on about. I’m referring to your fucking biased story on the “ Rise and Fall of Sherbet” .

Although you did put some home truths in your story, you also forgot that their approach to the music industry as a bunch of pretty boys, specialising in loveydovey songs in a pleasantly com­ mercial but superficial style was exactly the same as the Beetle’s approach to the industry.

OK, maybe it does sound rather exaggerated, but then you repor­ ters aren’t much better. Next time before you go slagging off bands, get your fuckin’ priorities straight and to hell with everything else.

As for your referral to “ The Skill” as slick AOR nonsense, I person­ ally think it was one of the best Oz albums to come out last year (except fo r “ Icehouse” and “ East” ). I don’t think I’m biased, but when they were at the top, they were everyone’s little dar­ lings. Now, someone else has got the job of being No. 1, that you fucking journalists start to attack them for what they did.

Let them go, after all they only did what they knew best (with help from Roger Davies). Even if they do get voted the worst band in RAM’s rock poll, at least the RAM journalists treat them humanely and let them expresf their feelings.

An Irate Roadrunner Reader Adelaide, South Australia Dear Roadrunner, I’d very much like to make a few comments on the article written by Adrian Ryan, The Rise and Fall of Sherbet’.

To begin with, hasn’t the man realized that Sherbet and The Sherbs are two entirely different concepts? If so why did he throughout the article refer to Sherbet and The Sherbs being one and the same band? Sherbet was a legendary band in a totally different area to where the Sherbs are now.

Legendary, Sherbet are and always will be, as their success and influence was phenomenal.

o '

EDITOR & PUBLISHER: Donald Robertson

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They left an amazing impact in this country and overseas. Eng­ land they went to three times, not once - quite successfully! (Facts, Adrian Ryan, Facts). They also had several good quality pop-rock singles reaching the top 10 all over the world, including a number 2 in Israeli They succeded in many things not ac­ complished by other Australian bands before, which in turn left many an open door for the indus­ try in this country. When I looked into some of the singles and al­ bums Adrian Ryan put down as ‘trash’ and not very successful, I found he was very wrong indeed.

Sherbet was a reigning band for many years. Maybe not every re­ cord they released reached number one, but over those years they didn’t do too badly. Trash therefore being very bad wording.

As for The Sherbs - the band supposedly “ now sulking in semiretirement” ! Get your facts right Adrian Ryan. The Sherbs have been quite consistently recording, pushing against industry politics and manipulation, and gaining a good solid reputation as being ex­ cellent sophisticated rock and roll artists and songwriters, as their latest piece of, quote “ slick, MOR nonsense” , (presumably Adrian Ryan was referring to the Skill), has proven, which if Adrian had actually listened to the album, he didn’t even bother giving a title to, would have surely realised.

Adrian’s research obviously didn’t take him much further than distant past history, that everyone knows about anyway, because he didn’t seem to realise that The Skill had actually sold around 80,000 copies in the U.S.A., as an unknown band, without any hype at all, and was played literally from one end of the country to the other more than just occasionally on major radio stations. Ask anyone over there if they have heard of the Sherbs and The Skill, and they will answer enthusiastically YES! Also Adrian, have a listen to The Sherbs latest album Defying Gravity, a sophisticated, well writ­ ten, well produced album.

Perhaps instead of looking at the past history, you should open your mind and look at the future, not only here but in the States as well.

Irate Sherbet fan.

Dear Editor, I read your magazine with inter­ est but have a question — what are your Sydney feature writers doing? One thing they aren’t doing is writing about what has got to be the m ost original, unique, talented, fun, fantastic, great new band around Sydney at the mo­ ment.

RRATS BANDER & THE DREAMS First saw them by accident about a month ago at the Musi­ cians Club and again at Selinas a week back. They are just superb — Rrats Bander — really spunky and what a voice and three equally spunky ladies and a band — rock’n’roll but rock’n’roll in Cabaret form. Really different.

But who and what are they.

Maybe you ought to get someone to check ’em out and fill us all in — ’cause from the amount of people who were at both gigs a lot of people seem to know who they are — so maybe you had better fill us Roadrunner fans in too — so we don’t go off to the other mags for the info.

Thanks Barbara Williams Crows Nest, NSW. Yes there are! See Rrats feature elsewhere this issue. Phew!

Another reader saved.

“ ANSWERS” As a participant of the younger generation! I would like to stress to Mr Moffit, formerly of Matt Finish, that my energy level for music has been shattered and dissipated.

Bad times — sure Understandings . . .

Fucking honesty Please come back to us (me) next year and let’s get communicating.

Self opinionated Loving Female Form.

Dear Roadrunner, re: ish no. 9 Oct. ’81 Was rummaging through my pile of old muz-mags recently, when a comparison between past and present Roadrunners in­ spired me to write ya’all this short (short?) note. Admittedly, I’m not an avid reader of the mag, (al­ though I’ve bought most of the is­ sues put out in the last few years).

I was disappointed in the general lowering of standard over the years (last year in particular). I mean, whatever happened to the alternative charts section? and the PRICE? (NME costs 60c and, although their circulation is huge.

I’m sure it costs more to send NME to Oz, than Roadrunner to Melbourne.)

Also, Roadrunner seems (to me) to concentrate on the Bigger, Smaller names (The Cure, Grace Jones, Mentals, Matt Finish - oh, I forgot, THEY have Product com­ ing out, don’t they?) Why these groups, when it’s just a re-hash of the same story in every other mag? (The Matt Finish article was good, though.)

Where’s Roadrunner’s identi­ ty? Where’s the creative format and layout of the mag? Where’s the impassioned and, at times, opinionated atricles that reveal the subject in a different light and inspire reaction - the Matheson article on the English riots exemp­ ted - (more emotional than mine but perhaps this little piece of dirge reflects the growing complacency/blandness of your mag?)

This is not a plea for the more “ cool” , obscure artist. I know a few big names sell, sell, sell!!!, but there are enough good bands around (local or otherwise) and decent writers (the latter in short supply) to inject some young, pul­ sating blood into the mag - or are you aiming for the Big Time, boys?

Enough of my trite griping. On the positive side: John Doe’s Ruined Scene, the letters page and the odd very good article (liked the Britain in "131 piece). I know a letter similar to this could be sent to the majority of music papers around, but in my opinion, they’re too far gone. So, c’mon Don, you’ve got the potential, USE IT! Ask yourself why you started in the first place. a fatigued “ Roadie” The price difference between RR and NME is easily explained. NME sells over 200.000 copies a week in the U.K. alone. RR sells under 20.000 copies a month in Aus­ tralia and New Zeaiand. NME’s Australian sales are pure ‘cream’ - they are not essential to the paper’s survival. Ours are.

I don’t feel our stories are just a re-hash of stories in other papers. We try to provide a bal­ anced national view of music in Australia - of course there’s bound to be ‘overlap’, we’d be silly to ignore the people you mention as they are popuiar.

Of course I’m aiming for the Big Time - it’s the oniy way to ensure the paper’s survival.

Roadrunner has been going for four years now - if it’s to go for another four it has to grow.

Why did I start it? Because I’m in love with rock ’n’ roil.

That’s still true today.

ADVERTISING Lyn Saunders (02) 358 3366 OFFICE Giles Barrow

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SYDNEY EDITOR: S co tt M atheson (02 )21 1 3180 MELBOURNE EDITOR: Adrian Ryan (03) 347 3991 BRISBANE: David Pestorius PERTH: M ichael Mullane LONDON: Keith Shadwick, Larry Buttrose, Chris Salewicz NEW YORK Keri Phillips CONTRIBUTORS: Stan Coulter, Jenny Eather, Earl Grey, Tyrone Flex, Span Hanna, David Langsam, Adrian M iller, Ruthven Martinus, Craig N. Pearce, Brecon Walsh, DESIGN & LAYOUT: And Productions — Richard Turner, Kate Monger, (08) 223 4206.

TYPESETTING: SA Typecentre 211 8811 DISTRIBUTION: Gordon & Gotch for Australia and New Zealand PRINTER: Bridge Press, Seventh St., Murray Bridge, S.A. 5253 Ph: (085) 321744.

ROADRUNNER is registered for posting as Publication No. SBF 1813 HEAD OFFICE: 2 College Road, KENT TOWN S.A. 5067.

Ph.: (08) 42 3040.

A LETTER TO J.S. I feel comoelled to answer your “ shit-throwing” charges that ap­ peared in the recent Roadrunner (Nov. ’81) interview. Firstly my comment in the Tanelorn article was an attempt to point out that the down-trodden elements of society (those with musical in­ terests) with whom you profess to sympathise mostly couldn’t afford to see you. You called it “ rock ’n’ roll naivety” . I call it idealism, a quality (or is it a hindrance in this society?) which you and the other members of Redgum are obvi­ ously not short of. It seems somewhat incongruous to con­ demn and abuse it simply ’cause it’s directed against you. I did, after all, make it clear that my dis­ appointment was subjective.

Now, you made some pretty rash - naive even - statements in that diatribe against me. My qualm was not, as you said, against entering the “ rock ’n’ roll market” , but succumbing to the business. I was talking about cre­ dibility, not “ creativity” - I’d be the last to deny your talents as social commentators or musicians. And these are not just semantic hair­ splitting, I’m sure you’ll agree.

Where you got the notion of my wanting you “ staying at home” I can’t figure. Getting a bit carried away there, John. And as for sit­

ting in a “comfy chair” ! I don’t own any sort of a chair. If I did I’d sell it to buy some records or afford some cover charges. Or a lesser antique typewriter. Also, I have been out on the road (as a roadie), experienced the 13-hour-plus working days, the long hauls bet­ ween gigs on tour, and I’ve a reasonable idea of the economics involved. So there (poke my ton­ gue out and snigger). Seriously, though, the point here is that the nature of the Redgum musical style doesn’t demand a powerful p.a. or elaborate lighting rig, or thusly a large road crew. And these are among the larger over­ heads considering re-payments or hire and transport. Of course, it also depends on how comfortably you want to travel and sleep, how well and how much you eat, and how many drugs you want to drink, eat or smoke.

Finally, I just think you blew out of proportion what was essentially a personal aside - a clumsy one, I’ll admit - to put in print. Unfor­ tunate. But not uncalled for, methinks.

Anyway, John, we’ve both had a fair go at each other. Me with my poison pen. You with your glib abuse. I’d much rather smoke a peace pipe and get on to construc­ tive rock ’n’ roll commitment.

Something I’m sure we share.

PETER MUDD, Sydney Roadrunner 13

j

MELBOURNE

In Sydney, the sun shines more often; in Melbourne, things fall apart more quickly. If you’re looking for the frayed nerve ends of pop culture (and any faint signs of new beginnings) this is still the place to be.

As in other “ cultural centres” , there’s been plenty of crisis-think. The old beat obviously doesn’t mean much any more, but the new beats (funk, psychedelic, tribal, electronic pulse, ad nauseam) run out of resonance at a faster pace than ever before. Some people get edgy, others get tired, some just give up.

In Melbourne, a place where even the old guard tend to have musical consciences, there was a degree of change and a few retirements. The two veteran bands with the most sensitive antennae, Jo Jo Zep and Sports, faced up to the future, the former by a wholesale reorientation, the latter by appa­ rently breaking up. After one of the most frustrating and prolific careers in local his­ tory, Sports went out with the expected combination of a bang and a • whimper consisting of a not-bad album (“ Sondra” ) and a disposable EP (“ Sing Dylan” ).

Commercially, neither they or any other of the old guard did very much. The dollars and the platinum went to Australian Crawl, who finally sewed up all their quirks and influ­ ences in a second album that was both slick and resonant, while Men At Work clambered out of another distinct scene (the inner-city “ adult” circuit) to score a number one single and then stage a Midnight Oil-like abdication from celebrity status.

And meanwhile, down in the dives, the beat goes on. The two Carlton venues, Martini’s and Hearts (the latter possibly the best small rock pub in the land) both closed, but elsewhere there was a renaissance of

14 Roadrunner

that great Melbourne institution, the innercity venue. Led by the inimitable Laurie Richards’ Jump Club, there was a re­ surgence of promoters prepared to offer a chance to the raw and untried, and there’s probably never been a time when there was so much varied live music available.

As for the music, the most noteworthy facet of it was just how much was being played by veterans of the Cham pion/ Exford/Ballroom small bands circuit that flourished in 1979-80 before most of the bands involved collapsed from inattention.

This time around, those who survived (Seri­ ous Young Insects, Little Murders, Andy Oh And The Sheep) and those who’ve re­ grouped (Dead Can Dance, Hunters And Collectors, AEIOU, Beargarden, Bang) are determined, it seems, to do it properly this time around.

And if mainstream taste is any indication, a few of them besides Hunters and Collectors may make it. Out in the suburbs, the audiences are proving either their sophistica­ tion or their susceptibility to hype by en­ thusiastic support of what only a year ago seemed left of centre is now hot property.

The Models have become the ordinary persons favourite local band (a role they’ve taken over from the Sports and Jo Jo Zep) and InXs and The Church have come down from the north to clean up. Out there, it seems, conventional rock’n’roll moves aren’t working as well as they once did.

Apart from the live action, the most sensitive barometers of pop activity are those two steadfast institutions. Mushroom and Missing Link. Keith Glass’s outfit didn’t have too much to show for the year apart from Equal Local’s EP and what was possibly the year’s most overrated album, the Birth­ day Party’s “ Prayers On Fire” . I wouldn’t go

so far as to agree with Yankee magazine Trouser Press in their description of this artifact (“ Santana with bad beatnik lyrics.. . ” ), but the boys have done better in the past. They did strike back with the worthy “ Release The Bats” , and made us all proud with their overseas live and media antics.

On another level, Mushroom had unde­ served album fiascos with MEO 245 and Paul Kelly’s “ Talk” , a more expensive flop with the Swingers, and scored heavily with the Models. Michael Gudinski also seems to have secured Hunters and Collectors, which could just be his most significant coup since he snared Skyhooks and Split Enz. Bruce Milne’s Au-Go-Go had another good year on a small scale, with a trio of excellent singles from Little Murders, Moodists and Wrecked Jets and a loveable punk artifact from the Zorros (“Too Young Too Fast” ) and ROADRUNNER’S indefatig­ able ex-Melbourne editor and his sidekick Andy Maine scored a conceptual winner with their Fast Forward project. And in the other media, 3RRR-FM staggered through a major crisis losing some of its mindless elitism in the process, 3-PBS-FM shed some rough edges, and the year also saw the birth of two new papers (“ Vox” and “ Virgin Press” ), both proving surprisingly durable but neither as yet establishing an identity.

More events and predictions for the catalogue; Hunters and Collectors amazed everyone for reasons that remain mysterious (apart from the obvious one that they’re very good) and in the process had the most m eteoric rise since the early days of Skyhooks: Mondo Rock ascended without trace with their two nagging, brilliant hit singles and a slightly disappointing album, and elsew here in the world of the mainstream Broderick Smith crept a few

steps further in a comeback that seems to be taken forever. Mike Rudd had a chance at the big resurrection and blew it with a terrible single, and the highly deserving Cheks signed with Regular. Down in the synthesiser underworld something was stirring — I’m not sure exactly what — with David Chesworth releasing an album, as did the slightly more visible Metronomes.

And some random names to watch — Red Squares, Sal Paradise, Steve Connelly (ex-Cuban Heels) with a new band. Rare Things, Dead Can Dance (featuring Des and Ron of the Marching Girls), Bang (some impeccable pedigrees here — Romantics, Scratch Record Scratch, Millionaires) a yet unnamed band led by Mick McGinley (exWrecked Jets, Pagan Idols) and of course, the cabaret band of this or any other year, the Pete Best Beatles.

Just in that list, there’s a huge variety of visions, which at least indicates the Mel­ bourne scene isn’t completely stagnant. And here’s a list of songs you could/would have spent your money on in 1981, available on vinyl and cassette: "Nuns And Priests" — Editions; "Where The Trees Walk Downhill” — Moodists: "Love Beats Me Up" — Australian Crawl; "Downunda” — Men At Work; "She Lets Me Know" — Little Mur­ ders; "Piano Piano” — Ron Rude; "Last Train To Mobiltown” — Big Combo; "Other Places” — MEO 245; "Kathy's Kisses" — The Birthday Party; "Lowdown” — Paul Kelly and the Dots; ‘Two Cabs To The Toucan" — Models; "How Come” — Sports; "Roar Of The Wild Torpedoes" — Sports; "Cool World” — Mondo Rock.

None of them moments to change your life, but you can dance to most of them, and that’s better than nothing . . .

Adrian Ryan

SYD NEY

Sydney rock ’n’ roll 1981. Too many nights still in the Trade Union Club at 5 a.m. Too many jerks off, and around, the poker machines. An end­ less stream of Fosters cans. Har­ dened trade unionists clink glasses with pseudo hardened punks. Oh heah, and lits of rock ’n’ roll. But we’ll get to that in a minute.

What better way to look back on a year of Sydney rock ’n’ roll life than sitting in the Melbourne office of V(p)ox after a week away from what any fool knows Is the best rock ’n’ roll town in the country.

No old magazines and gig guides to jog the memory. Simply a random look back at the events and bands that stand out.

First up, possibly the most significant occurrence was the closing of so many inner-city venues. Licensing laws, fire re­ strictions, noise complaints, renova­ tions. Down they went like flies.

Old timers remember the days when the inner city night meant cruising from The Civic down to The Stagedoor, then to Rags/Chequers, maybe over to The Rock Garden, a peak at Sergeant Peppers, or The Governor’s Pleasure, or Brownies, or, or, or. Those were the days, they say.

Good times they were too for young up and coming bands. Long nights. A big drawcard and two or three new bands maybe getting $50 if they were lucky but more importantly it was the chance to piay. Obviousiy with venues ciosing and hours of opening being restricted there’s less demand for new bands. Pretty logical and not very encouraging for anyone contempiating a stab at rock ’n’ roll stardom.

The Trade Union Club quickly became the focal point of after dark iife. Three or four bands at weekends, reasonable prices, comfort, two floors, and a bar open till 5 a.m. Almost always good line­ ups.

Otherwise iife goes on at The Rex Hotel, The Sussex, G overnor’s Pleasure, Southern Cross, The Manzil Room and most recently The Tivoli, a large attractive venue in the centre of town, discovered after problems arose with Paddington Town Hall, scene of some of the year’s best gigs.

Outside of the inner city (wherever it is) things went on as in previous years. A few piaces closed, others opened, and they were all BIG. Selinas, Comb and Cutter, The Family, The Manly Vale, etc etc etc.

Band wise some rather fabbo bands appeared and/or consolidated their posi­ tions. The real bright lights were Machina­ tions and Sardine, two bands who, along with Sunny Boys, are invoived with the independent SCAM management organi­ sation.

Sunny Boys moved from the city to the suburbs whilst still remaining hip in Darlinghurst. There were nights when the lads drew 800 people at Blacktown. Their brand of tough, catchy pop/rock ’n’ roll

always played with maximum energy summed up a lot about Sydney rock ’n’ roll - our boys ‘get down’, as they say.

Besides the live shows The Sunny Boys turned in a debut album that I con­ sider to be the best Australian release of the year. Already there’s young high school bands covering their songs.

The Sunny Boys picked up and held most of the old Radio Birdman following who also came out of the woods for the New Race tour when Deniz Tek teamed up with Rob Younger, Warwick Giibert and a coupla old Stooges and MC5ers. The crowds went beserk. The rock ’n’ roll was at its best magnificent.

Other people from that ‘scene’ ap­ peared in various permutations. Lipstick Killers decided to mix their brand of tough Detriot rock ’n’ roli with cocaine and headed for Los Angeles. Nothing has been heard since.

The Hitmen plodded on like the tired old war horses they are, finally releasing an album that showcased their hard grinding brand of rock ’n’ roll. They toured with Steppenwoif which must have been reai exciting.

The Flaming Hands, fronted by Julie Mostyn, piayed some of the most pas­ sionate and exciting shows it was my priviiege to hear.

The ‘get down’ tradition was aiso con­ tinued by a new band. Fifth Estate, formed by former Professor Steve Vinberg, they played a select number of powerhouse Stooges/MC5 style gigs.

Fun Award and Super Group Of The Year goes to Super K. a combination of odd balis from odd bands and places who formed to play less than 10 fabbo gigs of bubblegum classics. Glenn Campbell’s Galveston never sounded so good. Not forgetting The Archies, 1910 Fruitgum Company, Lemon Pipers, etc etc.

Grrrooovvvvvyyyyy.

Laughing Ciowns played equally select gigs including no iess than three final shows for 1981 . . . and there’s still time for a few more. They spawned a number of imitators, and derivatives - ivor Hay’s Wild Life Documentaries, The Same, and a ^ew others. Saxophones and Angst are still big.

Personaiiy I consider the improvement of The Church one of the year’s high­ lights. Exceilent album, even better double EP, and even better still second album in February. Live shows were con­ sistent and the band estabiished a strong suburban and interstate following.

Ska was the Trend Of The Year with The Aiiniters, Skolars, Girlfriends, and others dragging their enormous following from venue to venue. Their greatest achieve­ ment was to bring fun and dancing back into pubs. Hey it’s actually ‘cool’ to dance again.

The Mod movement splintered. The

serious Mods kept going as before, defin­ ing their ideology and becoming even more ‘committed’. Others broke off and became rude boys, following the ska bands. A further minority fringe disco­ vered psychedelia . . . without the acid.

The Mods band. The Sets, discovered there was more to life than The Jam and Secret Affair, opting to become Sydney’s Dr Feelgood, even gaining a bearded member. Just how tolerant can you get???

From their fledgling days playing to Mods at The Sussex Hotei Fast Cars de­ veloped into a very im pressive pop combo with a doubly impressive lead singer.

The Introverts (the band that ‘Stuart Coupe fucks’ on Darlinghurst walls) be­ came the Silhouettes/Pop Hearts (de­ pending on the day) losing two members and gaining former Riptide Scott Matheson, and a drummer who claims he used to bash skins with Golden Earing.

Spy V’s Spy and Riptides developed into two of the best dance/pop bands in town and look likely to be amongst next year’s leading bands.

Pop wise The Divinyls played The Pre­ tenders, recorded a great single and be­ came about the only new Sydney band to make a big impression nationaliy.

Tactics, who record for the smartest in­ dependent company in town - (mine, natch) released a second album, went on a national tour, and remained one of the most innovative combos in town.

And speaking of innovationSystematics, Dead Travei Fast, Pel Mel and others played some perimeter ex­ panding music that deserved to be heard by more people than It was.

I may be wrong but there seemed a marked decrease in the number of inde­ pendent records released. The initial doit-yourself spirit vanished a little and economics kiiled most besides the de­ voted and idiotic. M2, Green, and Phan­ tom are the only significant surviving in­ dependents and even Green took the step of using EMI’s distribution.

What of the others? Angels, icehouse and Chisel were noticeably missing from the regular live circuit. Midnight Oil piayed their usual sporadic shows.

Mi-Sex stopped being pop stars, slooged it out, and started making better records.

The Numbers lost their following. Last year’s bright hopes iooked more than a little tarnished.

Moving Pictures, with their hearts in the righ place and keys in the Chevrolet, played Bruce Springsteen better than anyone else and kept swearing they thought of it first.

Mental As Anything released easily their best album and added to their al­ ready huge following. iNXS did the same.

XL Capris added a drummer, learnt to play

well, recorded a second album, and sang onstage with ian Dury. Jimmy and The Boys did the same as last year and the coming year whilst Matt Finish decided to pack it in for awhile.

On the come-back scene Marc Hunter reappeared and made everyone realise how good Dragon were and that history never repeats and Rats Bander com­ menced live work supporting Stray Cats Oh, and The Reels, released their best album, meandered round the traps, lost Karen Ansell, and thought of new market­ ing devices.

From New Zealand the only notable re­ cruits were Dave M cCartney’s Pink Fiamingoes and NZ Pop, the subject of one of the year’s more bizarre occurr ences.

Rock ’n’ roll goes to court. When NZ Pop (then known as Pop Mechanix) ar rived in Australia the Sydney Popular Mechanics were decidedly unimpressed The New Zealand lot released a single people were confused and our boys took legal action. An extensive court case that’s been well documented in these pages and doesn’t seem to be over yet Appears to have cost CBS a lot of money The band changes their name, records an album with Eddie Rayner and then iead singer Andrew Snoid ieaves to join The Swingers. That’s rock ’n’ roll for you.

Besides aii the established touring acts a steady stream of young Melbourne bands made the journey north. Models finally gained a decent foiiowing and ‘ac­ ceptance’ from the fickle. Hunters and Collectors became the darlings of the chic, hip and cool - and played some fan­ tastic music on the way. Equal Local didn’t quite make the same impression.

There were the usual succession of tours from overseas. No one outstanding except Ian Dury, Smokey Robinson Kraftwerk and maybe a coupia others Lots of pub tours and more resurrected old has beens than you could poke a walking stick at.

Otherwise Sydney based Gienn A Baker turned out an amazing number of compilation and reissues and Clinton Walker got the whole new wave business down in a book. i’m prepared to bet Le Hoodo Gurus are the best new Sydney band I didn’t get to see.

So, another year down. Some great nights. Some great bands. Some great re­ cords. I’m sure you’ll write in and remind me of those who’ve been forgotten.

Something really stunning will come along sooner or later, otherwise the only prediction i have is that there’ll be a new year.

And to pinch a line from another journo, will the last person leaving 1981 please turn out the lights.

Stuart Coup^

Wednesday, the second day of December, 1981. I’m in the middle of cooking the dinner, taking a shower and doing the laundry. And like my domestic activities the Queensland Rock and Roll Circus for 1981 has been, if nothing else, eventful. Prob­ ably not as eventful per se as the past couple of years, but on the purely artistic level 1981 (the first six months in particular) can only be described as a veritable and variable bonanza.

An ever increasing number of interstate and overseas performers saw fit to cross the Tweed Heads border in the iast year, which was in the main to our distinct advantage, i stiii maintain that the Cure’s 1981 tour was a disappointment not­ withstanding any suggestions to the contrary in some quarters. Echo and the Bunnymen were a sheer delight at Cioudland a few weeks ago (even if only a small crowd turned out — admittedly it was in the middle of the University exam period).

The Sunnyboys have always enjoyed a warm welcome in the half a dozen visits since April. The band that everybody seems to love to hate, the (s)H/fmen, were watched very closely during this years visit to Queensland. Local guitar hero Brad Shepperdwas amongst their ranks this time round, and word has it that Warrick Gilbert has been replaced re­ cently by another ex-resident Brisbaneite, Tony Robertson.

Moving to the local bands that consis­ tently raised eyebrows over the last twelve months, there haven’t been many that really promised a great deal. The few that did reveal an element of originality have either headed South for good (the Go Betweens and Out of Nowhere) or for the summer {the End) or disintegrated (the Four Gods) or, more distressingly, disappeared (the B/x Pieces).

Nevertheless, there have been a few survivors who, while not often pushing the bounds of rock to any great extent, have provided many an enjoyable even­ ing. I guess this is where the 31st take a well earned bow. Capable of being inspir­ ing and boring at the same time, they have always been the tightest band in town (which is ironical because they rarely had a practice room). But it is this calculated nature of their performance that on 16 Roadrunner

occasions lead to boredom. The band took a nose dive recently with the depar­ ture of the rhythm section (a combination that really had their act together), but a new band called Screaming Tribesmen has emerged from the remnants. With the old band the singer was the major improvisor. There were no two ways about it, Ron Pino was definitely the unpredictable one. Some say he is pre­ tentious. They often said the same thing about Jim Morrison. Ronnie is the closest thing you’ll see that even vaguely resem­ bles Morrison’s Rock/Theatre. If that’s pretentious then I guess he is. The 31st built their set around a modest selection of originals (I always thought that the slower songs written around the time Brad Shepperd was with the band were their claim to fame) and a variety of little known 60’s covers.

The Go Betweens departure to Mel­ bourne only weeks ago now was a real disappointment for many people. Al­ though they rarely played in Brisbane (once a month at best), it was always a joy when they made the effort. Their last show was interestingly a benefit for the Pregnancy Control Group at a surprise venue — the Ithica Public Pool. A “ Pool Party” was how the billing read, and as summer was fast approaching many of the patrons took to the water for a refreshing swim to the music of the Go Betweens. Bliss was how someone later described it. I reckon the Melbournites need them more than we do anyway.

Gone, but not forgotten.

The other group playing at the Pool Party was the latest incarnation of Zero (i think its spelt Xero now, just to confuse everyone). Xero were at their provocative best in the unusual environment. The new line-up has really been blessed with a new lease of life (something they very much needed after wandering for a few months in the creative doldrums) to one of Brisbane’s true survivors. Never say die is their motto, and they really turn it pn as summer knocks at the door. A very personal group that is never without Ideas, the three piece Xero really work hard at their music. There is no denying that they fall flat on their face from time to time, but they always come back better than ever. Never to be overlooked.

The Four Gods was another group that seemed to attract more than their fair

share of attention in their short life-time.

It’s a pity that they disbanded because they had so many exciting ideas that were never fully explored. They could have only got better. Tuning always seemed to be a major problem with their live perfor­ mances, but there was an air of simplicity that tended to overshadow the technicalities. Fortunately the core of the group Peter Morgan and Andrew Wilson managed to record a single at the M Squared Studios in Sydney before the break up. Helping out on the single were Go Betweens’ Grant McLennan and Lindy Morrison. Seek it out fast. Andrew Wilson is currently in Sydney rehearsing a new band, and Peter Morgan is back home doing who knows what . . . probably watching T.V. like the rest of us.

Out of Nowhere really had Brisbane in raptures for a while. A very intriguing and intense collection of musicians that also saw fit to leave Brisbane some months ago in search of a colder climate and more recognition. Certainly they deserve the latter. Exploring the area of Jazz — Funk — Rhythm, words can’t express their music other than to say it Is highly emotional. They are apparently recording in Sydney with Laughing Clown Jeff Wegener drumming.

The End took the most improved award for 1981. The vote was unanimous. Their performances of late have been almost impeccable. Simply stunning but im­ mensely vulnerable all the same. They are not immune from mistakes. Someone once said that the British rock press like incompetent bands (I think it was Iva Davies). They’d probably like the End. In fact. I’m sure they would. Their music is a culmination of styles all very well utilised to create something all of its own. As long as everything is kept in perspective The End are successful. They also have just released their first single “My Confes­ sion” c/w “White Worid”. Only a mere 300 have been pressed so be quick. The End are playing in Sydney over the December/January period because they find it difficult to endure the Queensland summer. Drummer Coiin Berwick was last seen heading towards the New South Wales border in a beat up old station wagon screaming “ . . . it’s too hot”.

Another starter in 1981 was the 6 /x Pieces. Although they seemed to disap­ pear mysteriously after only a few per­

formances they really only went into mothballs, and it is in this band that a lot of hope rests with the future. The band came together under the watchful eye of former Riptide Allan Rieily. Their poten­ tial is unlimited provided they fully utilise the superb vocals of the two girls in the group. We can only wait and see.

Brisbane’s answer to the ghastly Dead Kennedys must be the Biack Assassins.

Only having played live a couple of times before their outing at the 279 Ciub they managed to fill the place to capacity. A punk Redgum I heard someone say. Their songs are'certainly social criticisms, but the question at the moment is whether or not it’s tongue in cheek. Satire is O.K. but don’t go overboard fellas.

Speaking of the 279 Ciub, the hotel where I spent many a happy Friday and Saturday night over the iast tw elve months, the promoters Pirahna Brothers finally opted out after Increasing man­ agement violence towards the clientele was causing punters to stay at home on weekends. Without getting defamatory, the situation was getting so bad by October/November that even bands were refusing to play the Club. It was a shame because it had lasted so long, and there had been so many memorable nights. As a matter of fact it was the only stable venue operating all year. What’s left you might ask? Well the Pirahna Bros., Brian Hughes and David Darling, are currently stalking the streets for a suitable re­ placement. Until they findnone there are the 4zzz Joint Efforts at the Queensland University. Also, Triple-Z has success­ fully operated the New York Hotei on Sunday nights for the last few months and there seems to be no problems there.

There is also the Brisbane Hotel, but its such a crummy venue it’s not worth going to (that is unless you enjoy watching bands on movie screens, and tl\p com­ pany of smack addicts).

That just about sums it all up. I guess it’s not that bad after all. Who are you kidding? I’d just like to finish off with a quote: “ Oh tell me where your freedom lies the streets are fields that never die Deliver me from reasons why You d rather cry. I’d rather fly" (THE DOORS — “The Crystal Ship”)

David Pestorius

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The year that was in Perth 1981 - it seems it can be summed up in one radio program; the Shake Some Ac­ tion band competition on Feb 4 this year. Let’s look at some of the bands that entered. Ground Zero, Quick and the Dead, the Accident, the Plants and Confessions.

Of these, only the Accident perpetuate under the neu name of the Neutrons; less said about them the better. Ground Zero’d so their lead singer could become a rock journo, their one time saxophonist joining the incredible Rising Sons. Quick and the Dead have not been heard of unfortu­ nately, though perhaps that’s a blessing in disguise. It seems that even skinheads have to grow up, get a job and a haircut (!) sooner or later. The put out a great single, and last I heard advertised for a manager - could they be going establishment?

Stay tuned.

The Plants still play Fremantle occa­ sionally, and can often be seen posing at Adrians. They had vinyl out this year also, but non-arty types like you and me might be hard-pressed to understand it. Con­ fessions, a promising band who came second by V2 point to the marvellous Triffids, ruptured after the departure of Johnny Savage for Europe; there are rumours of a Summer revival.

A number of trends came to the fore in Perth 1981; Mods predominate. Skins vegetate, dressing up has become de regeur if the number of people wearing headbands and frilly shirts at THAT PLACE THAT SUCKS is any guide, and whoopee, we got a rockabilly revival.

Actually this was surprisingly healthy, since we don’t have any Mod, Skin or Neu Romantic bands in Perth as yet. You know what they say - Perth trendies are about six months behind British fashion, but the rest of the State is about two years behind. Adam and his Ants indeed!

Anybody remember Jubilee?

Rockabilly is being initiated by the

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Bopcats, (the rock strain) and the aforementioned Rising Sons who piay a more countrified strain, which to me is the more relevant of the two. Funk hasn’t arrived yet; seems Perth takes a long time to get rid of disco stigmas, besides, in this State, the only people who could play it would be black U.S. sailors. Thank the Liberal Party for that.

Still, let’s be cheery coz summer’s here and new bands are flooding onto the eager summer market. Q-decah are one such band, the Riddle are another. Prob­ lem is, although they’re new they’re not sufficiently different to be a real alterna­ tive. Perhaps the same could not be said of another new band, the Inept Dilettantes who play a kind of diverse Ray beats/ Ventures version of instrumentai covers, plus classic Velvets/Buzzcocks covers.

Original stuff is supposed to be upcoming so again, stay tuned.

Pop meiody bands like tha Nobodies (who now have the Triffids second drum­ mer) and the Silent Type are bound to be at least moderately big this summer, putting out their versions of three piece pop. In small doses, this music is very appealing though it is easy to hear a sameness in the sound that makes the novelty grow thin. Truly great bands like the marvellous Cabaret Triffids (sorry, it’s hard for me to be objective about these people) have a variety of sound that has seen them through four years together; it doesn’t depend on chorus pedals and flangers, just good sound, harmonies and vitality. The only band to challenge were the Real Dreamers, who were largely former Triffids anyway. They had to disband when Alsy rejoined the Triffids as Drummer. Hope to see this band back in 1982.

Other bands in the song contest have disappeared without trace. Bands like No Actressses, Eddie Capellas, Harlequin Tears and SX 1. The Helicopters are still with us, sadly having progressed little since this time last year, but still a great pop band. The Stray Tapes are back, the

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break having done them a great deal of good. They now look like Echo and his Funnymen and play a great version of new pop for young lovers. Very promis­ ing, and show much potential.

And now it’s time to return to the seamy side of Perth music; the world of the Media, the Pubs, the Clubs and the various shady characters associated in between. Well, with people like KK on One For the Money and in Grok, it’s hard to be optimistic about the future of construc­ tive musical criticism in Perth. Why don’t you put down your NME for just a moment KK and see what is happening outside of your own fuzzy existence? Your opinions are only pale echoes of Julie Burchiil, and there’s only one of her you know. Yes I know it’s much easier to repeat another critic’s opinion than to think for yourself, but please give it a try. What was once written as a Rabid Young Teenager without any answers has degenerated into the depressing dada scribblings of a semi-psychotic wastrel. In fact, you’re analogous to Perth Music in 1981 promise a lot but deliver little. Hoping for a speedy recovery.

Anyway, SNR, with One For the Money and Shake Some Action is still the best radio in Perth; despite Mike Gee’s be­ coming the over-enthusiastic equivalent of Ian Meldrum it’s STILL relevant (gasp!) four years on. In comparison, the Califor­ nia sounds of 96FM and 6UVS are mere scratchings for relevance. Though it must be a big “buzz” to “rap” with big talking John Hood (“man”) on a Sunday night, bands must be realising the futility of this station by now. 96FM is horrible, smelly and boring and stinks of corruption, vice and corporate totalitarianism. As for 6UVS FM, well, what can you expect from a campus that elects a young Liberal for their Guild President - it just has to be bad.

Venues in Perth have deteriorated alarmingly - THE PLACE THAT SUCKS thinks it’s king, but it’s doing little more than promote young elitist pop music. If

you’re rich and young and good-looking you’ll love it. I don’t want to go into the subject of Adrians anymore, my contempt for the place must be quite obvious by now. The Stoned Crow and the Cat are much more congenial to good music, and the Loaded Dog has potential if it could lose some of the folkier hippy bands and audience. Likewise for Desperadoes and the Seaview, and Orange Person’s play­ ground. A refreshingly different venue is the Silver Slipper piano bar which plays 30’s and 40’s oldies, with piano playing in Casablanca surroundings. However, the ever-present threat of inherent trendiness looms, so be quick. Most suburban pubs are simply out of the question as far as progressive modern music goes, and House rockers. Rockets and Saracen keep going strong - to say nothing of the horrible Riffs.

And then there’s the question of where you get your threads. Well, don’t go to Ketch (or Kitsch as those in the know identify it) coz it’s as bad as bad can be.

Again, if you’re young, goodlooking and most important (read impotent) rich, you’ll probably love it, but then you’re probably a Mod (read Sod) or Neu Romantic (read total idiot) anyway by now with nothing but appearance on your mind. Let’s forget about the person beneath shall we? Johnny Langdon’s shop may be better, but good luck finding it. The threat of Silver Slipper looms here also, so watch it close, punk. Tatters of Subiaco is just a joke. Others like Memory Lane, the Gin Mill and Tushka Tat are better value but good old GSI remains a personal favourite. Fuck fashion anyway, just be comfortable.

Well, that just about wraps it up (the last paragraph was so cliche ridden I thought i’d perpetuate it) so from me and all of us here in Perth, goodbye, goodnight and goodsummer to you all. Don’t watch Countdown, beware of bandwaggoners, snobs, slime and most of all, critics like me! Bye Now!

C. C. Mitchell

Roadrunner 17

I

ADTiTiATD

The year of 1981 will not go down in the pages of history as one of Adelaide rock’n’roll’s better ones. But fuck history and let’s go to the movies — the 5MMM Rock Off Semi-Finals at the Bridgeway Hotel was a nine hour visual and aural smorgasbord of marvellous musical moments that, despite scotch and cokes at the Toucan club at four the same morning and a mere three hours shuteye, is one of my most memorable memories of the year.

Nineteen Adelaide non-professional bands had been weeded out the starting field of 95 demo tapes and each played and performed three songs to the panel of four judges (myself, Terry Bradford — 5MMM’s music co-ordinator, Adelaide’s number one music promoter, Elaine Counihan and top D.J./mixer/tape peddler Suzy Ramone) and a motley collection of organizers, musicians and friends.

The object of the exercise, which despite being of military magnitude ran incredibly smoothly, was to select six finalists to play in a final, open to the public, the winner of which to receive twenty hours of free recording time.

A tempting carrot to be sure and all the bands seemed to be sufficiently subdued to indicate they took the situation, a contrived one, with a fair degree of seriousness.

18 Roadrunner

Adelaide rock’n’roll exists on the patron­ age of probably less than a thousand people and the scraps thrown out by promoters of visiting overseas and interstate bands. To break down the economic barriers caused by such a situation a band has to do two things, both connected. One is get a record/tape out, and the other is to generate enough interest interstate to be able to tour there. The three Adelaide bands who have done that this year, Redgum, No Fixed Address and the Bodgies are not mainstream rock bands and give no real hint of the depth and character of the Adelaide scene.

For on the evidence of Sunday 6th December music in Adelaide is in a very healthy state indeed.

Firstly, the bands who missed out on a finals place. The Bliss Bombs were a tight, competent, electro-pop band who didn’t put a foot wrong, but didn’t quite manage to be startling. The Acrylic Chewies, a three piece with Vic Yates and Mark Kohler from Young Modern, played pulversising pop that was energetic but lacked a little finesse. Balanc­ ing Act had one good song while Egypt, a straight forward heavy metal band, had a good singer. Lounge Lizards play entertain­ ing blues rock, but weren’t anything extraor­ dinary. Joyous Invasion were synthesizer mournful without passion. T Waves were very young (it showed) and the Jumpers

played badly, although their new line-up has possibilities. Perfect Game left no impres­ sion while Statue were an updated glitter band. The Spitfires played rockabilly that was tight and entertaining, but lacking in spark. And the Paramours were, on their showing a band that could turn quite a few heads next year if they hang together. Good melodic guitar rock.

The finalists? Well, Chequers had an impressive variety in their music, which drove one minute, hung back tantalisingly the next. They played with spirit and their songs were well arranged and economical.

Die Dancing Bears seemed to have muted their extreme Birthday Party influqnces and delivered a set that had passion and depth.

The Pits were the surprise package of the afternoon. A three piece from Mt. Gambier they impressed with three excellent songs and a guitarist possessed of an enviable sense of rhythm. The Spell didn’t spare any horses. Singer Alf Omega put on a perfor­ mance and the rest of the band played tight, fast and hard behind him. When their three songs were over, Alf said, ‘See you at the final’ and dropped the mike. Everyone knew he was right.

Speedboats were absolutely stunning.

Very left of centre, with a three piece brass section, Arnold Strahls’ unique songs and voice, diverse rhythms and captivating stage presence, they covered more bases in three

songs than most bands do in a lifetime, and what’s more pulled them all off. Watch out, there’s genius about.

The Screaming Believers blend of fast rock pop and wailing sax was enough to see them through, while Snakes and Adders with their Latin based, nearly jazz, dance music were irresistible fun.

The problem with Adelaide rock’n’roll is not with the people playing it. It lies more in the economics of a field that relies on youth support. With South Australia possessed of the country’s worst youth unemployment, people just can’t afford to support local live rock to the extent they may like to.

It was incredibly refreshing to see upwards of 600 people turn up to the Bridgeway Hotel a week later to watch the Rock Off Final. It was Adelaide rock coming up from the underground, and although the Spell took the first prize of 20 hours recording time, with a blistering set the real winners were the audience who saw seven of the best bands in the State for an outlay of $5 or less.

Whether the good feeling generated by the Rock Off will continue next year is something I wouldn’t care to predict. Adelaide needs more venues and bigger crowds because bands, if they are to reach ‘contender’ status, need more work in Adelaide and interstate.

Without improved mechanics it’s more than likely Adelaide will fall asleep again in 1982.

Donald Robertson

DARW IN

TERRITORIANS ARE WORTH ENSLAVING?

by Leigh Leyland ‘‘What’s happening in this town?

This town is a no-go There’s nothing to do, nowhere to go, There is no club a go-go . . . ” (D’Adrenz!Brat!Spasm)

It’s like another country. The wild frontier that isn’t so wild. A last haven for hippies, public serpents and crocodiles. Darwin has entered the eighties with a mall, shopping ar­ cades, multi-level carparks, an FM radio station and B-52’s. The popula­ tion is largely young — even Chief Minister Evermgham is only in his thirties.

Yet musically it remains a conservative backwater. There are few venues and even fewer bands. A monopolistic ‘prom­ otion’ company has brought up a few bands (Cold Chisel, the Angels, Austra­ lian Crawl, Slim Dusty) for major concerts at the outdoor amphitheatre, but simul­ taneously thwarted plans to introduce some of Australia’s more modern bands.

On the local front, the cover band reigns supreme — Montaj, the Wooly Woefles, Rank Ankle HAVE been playing in various permutations for years. Only the last of these has made an attempt to

move with the times, doing Cure, XTC and other ‘obscure’ (for Darwin) covers. The only glimmer of originality on this very staid and static scene has been provided by the antics of Exhibit A. Coming from Adelaide out of the breakup of the Brats and the Bad Poets, the band opened in Darwin as the support for Cold Chisel in late 1980 in front of a six thousand-plus audience.

Overcoming the inevitable “punk” tag, they gained a loyal following as they played at the few available venues over the next two months. However, the cli­ mate and other pressures forced the departure of guitarist Stuart and bassist Joanne, and began the series of person­ nel changes that has characterized the band ever since.

Over the following six months, there were only two brief appearances, giving the band a sort of ‘cult status’ in the N.T. The first, in February, was on the eve of drummer Richard Ploogs departure for Sydney and a position in The Church, while the second, in May, occurred as replacement guitarist Robert Howard prepared to leave for the U.K. By the time a steady lineup was again established in July, with the addition of guitarist Veyne and drummer Richard X, a kind of self­ generated mythology had been built around the group. Founder member Peter Brat had started a weekly ‘new Music’ page in the independent “Star” news­ paper, and secured an hour show, “Alter­

native Chartbusters” , on the newlyopened STOP FM radio station. Naturally, these outlets were utilized to propagan­ dize the activities of Exhibit A, both real and fantasized.

Particularly prominent amongst the latter, was the much-publicised presen­ tation of a “Shiny Yellow Record” to themselves for “the limited success of the limited pre-release sales of a special limited edition cassette, ‘Criminally Neg­ ligent’ ”, as the Murdoch-owned ‘Darwin Sun’ so aptly put it. This cassette has since become unavailable.

Seeking to overcome the problem of lack of suitable venues. Exhibit A enlisted the aid of the Darwin Theatre Group to put on a series of “ multi-m edia extra­ vaganzas” in the town’s only theatre.

Brown’s Mart. Climaxing with “Revenge Of The Dolls”, these concert/dances fea­ tured the band plus other acts, including dancers, a ‘mad poet’, video, feminist guerrilla theatre, and acoustic music, further enhancing Exhibit A’s reputation for innovation.

Their final Darwin appearance was a fifteen minute spot at the recent annual ‘Musician’s Ball’, where they erupted in a blaze of fireworks and noise between a Greek bazouki band and a cabaret group, delighting their fans, and provoking shock, horror and distaste from the predominately ‘Darwin Establishment’ audience.

With the departure of Veyne, the band is

%

reduced to a nucleus of bassist Dave Wie, Keyboard/guitarist Peter Brat, electronist Paul Walker, and drummist Brett Ford, though it is rumoured that original guitarist Stuart Gray may be rejoining.

Paul and Peter are currently commuting between Melbourne and Sydney, “doc­ toring” and overdubbing a tape done in a Darwin studio, for release as a single on their own Eritic Records label through Missing Link. The ‘A’-side will be the Howard/Brat/Walker composition “Con­ fusion”, always a highlight of their live appearances.

Once this is finalised, the band is headed for South-east Asia and on to Europe.

Paul explains: “The various factors of isolation and the diverse musical Influ­ ences of transient members, has given us a specific outlook and sound, and we are determined to continue our policy of combining adventure and fun, which certainly points overseas rather than to slugging it out around Australia first.”

With the current interest in Australian music overseas, this radical move from an obscure musical backwater to its world centre may not prove as preposter­ ous as it may at first sound.

Will the N.T.’s first non-uranium rock export succeed, or is all this just tropical madness? And who will fill the gap they leave, and brave the terrors of the Top End? Meanwhile, the Tour of Terra con­ tinues . . . !

I Roadrunner 19

I

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IS THE FIRST "BESTOF"... FROM

PINK FLOYD

FEATURING FAVOURITE SELECTIONS FROM MEDDLE DARK SIDE DF THE MDDN ANIMALS WISH YDU WERE HERE And a newly recorded version of MONEY

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SB P 237729 Cass. PC 7729

20 R o adrunner

ACRYLIC CHEWIES (part 1,000,000 in the continuing saga of YOUNG MODERN OR true confessions of EARL GREY.)

Back in 1977, when I was, I think, 14, 1 would hang out at Modern Love Songs, tune into 5CIV late on Saturday nights, or, if 1 could get a lift from som eone (usually my brother), would trot along to the “ratville”, or the Tiv to check out the St. Vitus crowd or any of the few touring acts of interest.

One night, with a couple of friends 1 managed to get to take me, 1 went to see a band who were causing something of a stir amongst the by then conventional (yes, even by then), punk crowd.

Thereon the stage were five young lads (a touch older than me 1thought), punching out, in varying degrees of aptitude, a phenomena later known as power pop, and up front was this guy with a nervous bob of blonde hair. Brian Jones? Keith Relf? ... No, it was John Dowler, and the band was Young Modern.

Even further back, right back into the sixties, a lot of things happened. Man, well Am ericans and Russians anyway, started hopping off this mortal coil in rocketships, and a group of L.A. wierdos made a world cult out of flowers and smoking a plant. Pop was born too, and was as hyperactive as the m anned space program , som etim es capturing the hearts and minds of millions.

Vic. YtK-iciS. other times ignored, some­ times exploring new territory, other times covering the same old ground. But, at the end of that decade, pop (and I mean the jingly, jangly construction of guitars and melody) went into some­ thing of a lull, — that was until the energetic, musical revolution that repercussed around the world of 1976.

Even then, however, its highpoints have been few.

Ah yes, if pop were a com­ modity it would be some­ thing like diamonds, with its main resources plundered, but with a lucky few coming up with some gems now and then.

Lately, in Scotland, a highpoint has been consis­ tently reached by bands on the Postcard label like

O range Juice and Aztec Camera in Australia the Reels and the Mentals man­ age to write some nifty tunes too. But the heart and soul of pop, with its roots in the 60s lay, for most p eo ple’s money, in the youthful hands of Young Modern. For two years anyway — in 1979, after a couple of hundred shows, they split. . .

Vic Yates, Andrew Richards, and Mark Kohler hung around for a while with the same name, but soon they called it a day too.

Andrew joined the Singles and John Dowler moved to Melbourne (their progress has been chronicled elsewhere). M ick Jones stayed in Adelaide and formed pop%cover band the Manics, who had a brief moment of glory in reaching

the final of the 5M M M Rock-Off and then fizzled out some 5 months later with only about 10 originals to their credit. Vic and Mark came back to Adelaide and basically just hung around.

Everything looked pretty quiet until some guy called Alan Williams, with a fetish for Young Modern and a hope that a lot of others felt the same way, organised a reunion about two months back. The evening went quite well and everyone drowned them selves in booze and nostalgia. But the point is that the reunion sparked Vic, Mark, Mick and Mike Donovan (from the Manics, who filled in for Andrew, the only original member who couldn’t make it), to reform and play pop again. The name chosen was Acrylic Chewies (some­ thing to do with plastic pop, 1 suppose).

At anyroad, the line-up jitterbugged for a while with both Mick Jones and Mike Donovan leaving and appa­ rently forming or joining two new separate bands. Enter Kenny Short on guitar, a move which made Vic take up bass, as much as to accommodate Ken as the new member as in despera­ tion for the lack of bass players around. The move has worked admirably: “Vic’s doing a dattin fine job,’’ says Ken, and we all agree, “but he’s still a bit uncomfortable on vocals.”

To wit the boys are appa­ rently looking for a keyboard player as a possible fourth

member, with some sort of vocal ability preferable .. .As it is the band has performed, as a three piece, some three or four times now.

Being early in their de­ velopment one has to make compensations. The mix is still being iroried out, though the general sound aimed for seems to be a big up-front sound, the snare beats are really emphasized, the bass punchy, the guitar strong and rich, and the vocals echoed and comfortably on top. O.K. this is the really obvious difference to Young Modern, who were generally “laid b ack,’’ giving the ‘w im ps’ im pression that Stuart Coupe noted on the Modern’s album notes. This band sound like they are preparing for the Sydney market — and they are.

However, this is not an indi­ cation that Adelaide is to be disowned: “W e’ll be around for quite some time yet”; and, fortu­ nately for this town perhaps, they’ll probably need to be.

This Christmas looks very bleak as far as gigs go, so it looks as though sticking to Adelaide might be some­ thing of a necessity, if getting tight is their aim.

Musically their goal is al­ ready achieved, and to an extent that is far in advance of anything Young Modern reached. Vic Yates has per­ fected the art of power-pop writing, with hooks that dig in and reel you up, hooks Lee Marvin would be proud to own.

There ain’t much else to say that can be gleaned from the two live shows that I’ve seen, except that they have an unpretentiousness that borders on charm(?), and a style that makes even “2, 4, 6, 8, M o to rw a y ”, fit in with their general auteur, (that song, by the way, is the only obvious cover of the three, or so, unoriginals that they do). , These boys deserve suc­ cess not just because they

had once, in another band and another place, produced som ething different and failed (a style of music which this band have improved upon), but because that band failed due to a certain n^^vete, one that this group still possess — except now they are wisened by experi­ ence: “We went to Sydney with big hopes and a lot of confidence and fell flat on our faces.”

They are still wearing the shirts and ties that look so rem iniscent of previous times, as if nothing had ever happened. When they do ‘‘A u to m a tic ” (the only han­ gover from the ghost of Young Modern that they al­ low) you laugh out loud, pleasantly surprised, and not with an attitude of “oh no, dragging out the old favour­ ites” that you’d expect your­ self to — because you realise that they do it because they want to, not because the audience might want to hear it.

These days the songs are immediately enjoyable if not immediately accessible (in other words, this pop has real substance — a fact that will hopefully be realized by a lot of other people on release of their limited edition EP ‘‘The S k y ’s the L im it ” — (wonderfully ambitious title, huh?) in the near future).

There aren’t many pop groups around who give pop the sing-along, innocent thrill it deserves, and who create pop songs that don’t pretend to be anything else, but fun. The Acrylic Chewies do all that and more.

Even though it’s prema­ ture to say so, and even if it is a rather ambitious state­ ment, (though after the “1 have seen the future of rock’n’roll’ bit”, 1 guess most phrases appear pretty tame), if the Acrylic Chewies aren’t quite the perfect pop band yet, they are well on the way to being just th a t. . .

Because your ears hove brains

mm

105 FM Roadrunner 21

LAURIE ANDERSON

NY. P erform ance artist cum p o p star It may have something to do with the success of her song, O Superman, and her sub­ sequent signing to Warner Brothers Records. Laurie An­ derson is renovating her New York loft. It is an enormous task, involving turning an open warehouse space into a series of rooms, one of which is, of course, a recording studio.

Although the rest of the place is in a state of disarray, the studio is almost complete. An­ derson did a lot of the physical labour on the room herself and she tells me how she and some friends poured the thick concrete slab, now under car­ pet, placing it on top of several hundred heavy rubber springs, so that the slab would “give” , rather than crack, under pres­ sure.

In spite of its double door, the studio is not sound-proof. The air conditioning ducting should, by law, lead out into Canal Street, the road which divides SoHo (the arty

part of Manhattan, just south of Greenwich Village) from TrlBeCa (the TR/angle SElow CAnal Street) in the west and Chinatown in the east. It is a street which carries a lot of very heavy traffic — semi-trailers taking stuff away from the wharves on the Hudson River (which Anderson’s loft overlooks). It is also very windy and the air rushes noisily down the air conditioning duct and into the studio. When the inspector has looked the place over, Anderson intends to reroute the air. Instead of going out into Canal Street, it will pass through the rest of her loft, providing cold air in summer when the place is stinking hot.

Extraneous noise on her tapes is nothing new, however. Before she built the new studio, Anderson says, she had a recording room over near the lift. The elevator accounts for the low bass rumble on all her previous tapes.

Despite the chaos generated by the months of renovations, An­ derson’s work has continued un­ interrupted. She has just finished a series pf dates with William Burroughs and John Giorno, a New York poet. The three have

recently released a double LP, You’re The Guy I Want To Share My Money With, issued privately on Giorno Poetry Systems Re­ cords. The record features read­ ings from the two writers and several musical and spoken pieces from Anderson’s seven hour epic performance project.

United States. Laurie Anderson has, over the last couple of days, been mixing another of these pieces. Let X EqualX, for inclusion as a flexidisc in a magazine called Art Forum. It is recorded in eight track only, but when the studio is finished she will be able to rere­ cord it in sixteen track, and it will become part of the album she’ll be working on over the next three months.

This LP will also contain more for Anderson fans. Strong listener response to the song in Britain, where it was played on B.B.C. Radio One, changed all that and led to a recording contract with Warner Brothers Records. Ander­ son starts out, though, talking about the past and how she became a performance artist.

Brought up in Chicago, she arrived in New York some ten

years ago and threw herself into the local art scene, sculpting by day, and teaching Egyptian ar­ chitecture and writing as an art critic to earn money. Performance art (in which the artist does not create an object, such as a paint­ ing, but rather makes art, or an artistic statem ent, by doing something) attracted Anderson

by Keri Phillips formance art’, redefines it each time. So it’s a real open-ended situation. You can throw in what­ ever you want.”

Her first performance was a piece called As:lf, and was made up of a lot of stories and songs. “ It was looking at metaphor in a certain kind of way,” Anderson explains. “The theme of it was

I almost don't care about people's politics if they make me laugh from the United States series — the work from which Anderson’s recent pop hit, O Superman, is drawn. 0 Superman was never intended as top forty material, being initially released on a small independent “art” label here in New York and seen as an artifact because it was a way of combin­ ing a lot of things she was interested in. “ It’s a crazy hybrid anyway,” she continues, “and an undefinable one. That’s what I like about it as well. Everybody who does something and calls it ‘per­

memory, and its disintegration and rehabilitation, through my own past. I was labelled at first as an autobiographical artist be-' cause I used ‘I’ a lot. I used ‘I’ because the stories were things from my own life that were really just examples of memory and what happens to it.”

The performance involved tape loops and used a peculiar sort of timing mechanism, as Anderson describes: “ I wore a pair of ice skates. Their blades were forzen into blocks of ice. When the ice

% melted, I lost my balance — the thing was over. I did this perfor­ mance on the street and incorpo­ rated into it a violin which had a speaker inside it, so it was a king of self-playing violin. This meant I could play duets with it live.” “ When I did this performance in Genoa,” she says, “ I made a dedication to my grandmother (in very clum sy Italian) before I began, because on the day she died, I took a walk out onto a lake that was frozen and I saw a lot of ducks. They were honking and flapping their wings and I got close to them and they didn’t fly away. I got right next to them and theysf/7/ didn’t fly away. And then I saw that their feet had been frozen into the new layer of ice. After I told this story, a guy started trying to tell it to new-comers to the crowd, explaining why I was playing these songs. He was saying: ‘Well, she’s playing because once she and her grandmother were frozen into a lake.’ Performing in Europe, before I could actually work in German, French or what­ ever, often resulted in a lot of crazy situations like that.”

Present-day Laurie Anderson performances are something else again. No-one working in the heavily mined no man’s land between pop and Art is at one and the same time so economical and yet so complete, so perceptive and so precise. At times she’s Shelley Berman with a telephone for a prop, at others, with the attachment of contact mikes to her skull, her head becomes a human percussion instrument. Images flow onto the screen. A map of the U.S. has its time zones filled in as she sings the line: “ I can see the future/lt’s seventy miles east of here” . Nothing is wasted. Quiet’ subtlety and humour are every­ thing. Anderson’s work is an in­ vigorating combination of live and recorded music, visual images and manipulation of technology — all held together by her powerful stage presence and unending flow of stimulating and unex­ pected ideas.

No record can do justice to the live event and I wondered whether the process of reducing her work to a piece a black vinyl had been

difficult to come to terms with. “ I didn’t think it would be possible at all,” she says, “ because, first of all, I really missed the pictures.

Then the sound of a record has a very different quality from sound at a performance, where you can really depend on the space and the speaker placement. Things go by fast in a performance, but on a disc you can build the sound up so that it is rich enough to listen to again and again. Not that you have to stack a lot of sounds on top of one another — because I like an empty sound anyway — but if you hear an empty sound in a reverberant room, with a lot of images, it’s a very different empti­ ness from what you can feel on a disc at home. I’ve had to get used to the fact that the record is just a different version of the work.”

Laurie Anderson’s involvement with William Burroughs dates back to 1978, when she was invited to be a master of cere­ monies at a Burroughs festival called the Nova Convention. The three day event featured musi­ cians, writers and so on, who had

Giorno is a poet who lives on the Bowery in New York, a desperate slum area filled with derelicts and drug addicts. His poetry takes the form of monologues — conversa­ tions that could come from the mouths of members of the lower Manhattan art/would-be art scene, in their ceaseless hustle for money, drugs, love or recogni­ tion. It’s a hard, unsympathetic view, which strips away the ven­ eer of glamour and exposes the whining self-indulgence for what it is. He uses tape loops of himself repeating certain lines, and then shouts his poems over the top. In a live setting, this often makes it impossible to understand what he is saying. On disc, though, his approach makes more sense.

Anderson says she was drawn to Burroughs by his sense of humour: “ I almost don’t care about people’s politics if they make me laugh. William Bur­ roughs doesn’t really like or ad­ mire women, and I have problems with that attitude. But he’s just terribly funny the way he expres­ ses it, so at the same time that I’m

What I like about recording is that you can sell it cheap. drawn for their work on Burroughs’ sensibility — people like John Cage and Phillip Glass (avant garde musicians) and Patti Smith and Keith Richards (who pulled out of the show at the last minute — not soon enough to stop a bunch of people, drawn solely by his name, from being exposed to what Anderson calls “This crazy mixture of people” ). Back then, she was not familiar with Bur­ roughs and she spent the week before the convention reading everything by this darkly sardonic writer that she could get her hands on: “ I was an instant convert. And after reading all his books, meet­ ing him was a very intense experi­ ence. Since then, of course, with John Giorno, who happens to be a mutual friend, we did this little record set together.”

mad. I’m also laughing. So I don’t know quite what to do with it. A lot of it is extreme satire and I can appreciate it on that level. His recent work (some of which in­ volved a biting, bitter description of English society: e.g. “ How can you trust a country in which one store clerk refers to another as ‘my colleague’?” ) is just really acid.

And if you’re the butt of the joke, you’re stilt laughing, because it’s precise. His examples are real human — you can just hear someone saying it. He’s got an absolute ear for spoken language.

As a writer, he’s more of a talker.”

Although his work will event­ ually be read rather than heard.

Burroughs works out most of his writing by speaking it out. And Anderson feels she has borrowed this technique from him. “ I don’t

write texts now,” she explains. “ I try to work things out by saying them. That’s why I use these filters (which change the pitch of her voice electronically). When I raise or lower my voice in this way, I find I have different things to say from when I use my normal voice. It frees you to see things from different perspectives.”

A nderson’s opus. United States, is, at this stage, a seven hour performance piece divided into four sections — Transporta­ tion, Politics, Money and Love.

She hopes to add two more segments — Science and Com­ munication. As the title suggests, the work deals with her country, about which she says she has “ complicated feelings — from love to hate and everything in be­ tween” . Her intention, however, is not to be didactic or to force a proscriptive point of view on her audience, but rather to describe.

She continues: “The pieces are a mix of talking and films and electronics and music. In terms of motion, each section has a basic direction. In the Transportation section, all of the images and all of the sounds flow from east to west, left to right, in a stereo kind of panning situation. The gesture is an arm waving — sort of hand signals, really. Each section has its own hand signal. For Politics, the axis shifts and all the move­ ment is up and down — upward and downward social mobility, the rise to, and fall from, power. (This is the part from which O Super­ man is drawn). The gesture is an arm making a muscle. In the third section, the directional axis shifts again to become a kind of in and out motion, like being on a fast road. Things are going past you very fast. The hand is out, palm up, and there is a kind of grasping motion, a drawing in. In the last section, the Love section, it’s the opposite — everything moving out again.”

The whole series will be per­ formed in a year’s time at the Brooklyn Academy of Music here in New York. In the meantime, she will continue to work on her recording and performances with producer Roma Baran and Perrv

Hoberman, who often helps out on the tours, handling the projector as well as playing sax and flute on stage in some of the pieces. We come to discuss the more prickly subject of the contract with Warner’s and the success of O Superman in the closing minutes of our talk. Anderson claims that Warner’s had been pursuing her for many months, long before O Superman started attracting interest in Britain, which attributes to a major record company an interest in art, or a fa r­ sightedness, I have difficulty in believing. She says she is not really surprised that the record has done so well, since over the last few years she has worked in a number of rock clubs (especially in New York) and had certainly built up a small following outside straight art circles. None-the-less, a cult following doesn’t guarantee a top ten single.

Does she think she can repeat this astounding success? Will she become a pop star? “ I’m not too good at predicting the future,” she claims, sidestepping the issue. “0 Superman shows that some of my work can fit into a rock context without suffering. As someone from the art world. I’ve had a lot of preconceptions about ‘the sharks in the record world’ and ‘how horrible the commercial world is’.

I’ve really decided I can’t make too many blanket judgements. When I was in California, talking to Warner Brothers, I went to a typical high society party — art collectors and people like that.

One of the collectors came up and said to me: ‘How come your hair is like that? Are you some kind of punk?’ And I said: ‘Not really. I just like to cut my hair like this.’ She said: ‘Well, I’ll tolerate your pre­ sence here.’ And I said: ‘Well, I’m not sure I’ll tolerate your presence here.’ I just realized there are things that artists have to put up with in the art world that are pretty deadly too. What I like about recording is that basically you can sell it cheap. It’s not going to be enormously expensive for anyone to buy. Basically it’s financed and produced by rich people — and that’s exactly who’s backing the art world.”

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KING CAVE BAT RETURNS!

On the eve of the Birthday Party’s departure from England Giles Barrow swaps vampire tales with Nick Cave. l-r: Phil Calvert, Mick Harvey, Nick Cave, Tracy Pew, Roland Howard.

Giles Barrow; Can you give the basic story of what you’ve done and what’s happened since you arrived back in Europe this time?

Nick Cave: We brought the record {‘Prayers On Fire’) back, released it over here. It got excellent reviews, people started to take a little bit more notice of us. We lived here and just played gigs about once or twice a week, and we’ve developed a fairly large following now. When we play at a place like The Venue,. . . we’re getting about two thousand people at our gigs. This is now, but that’s taken all year to build up an audience like that. In the meantime we’ve toured the east coast of America for about three weeks, and also Italy, Holland, Zurich and various other places in Europe. Plus we recorded one single {Release The Bats).

We just played a gig at the Venue, where we did a live recording which we are going to release.

What we’re actually doing; we did a show at The Venue, and we’re trying to put out a 12" . . . er, we met Lydia (Lunch) when we were in New York, and she liked our group a lot, and we got on very well together, the group and her. She came over here and has played a couple of gigs with us, and we’re putting out a 12" record of perhaps two or three songs each per side. She’ll have one side and we’ll have the other side. But we still have to listen to the tapes of the night to hear whether it turns out bad enough, or good

enough, however you want to look at it.

G.B.: I was reading how things were a little difficult in America.

N.C.: We got kicked off stage a number of times. I think we proved to be a little bit too much for American audiences, which we were extremely happy about, mind you. They were all good gigs, except they only lasted about fifteen minutes. I think the ones we got kicked off were the best, which is probably why we got kicked off.

G.B.: You mentioned that what London needed was an intelligent, aggressive band. Do you want to elaborate on that?

N.C.: Well, actually, I find that this half of this year a lot of groups that I’ve heard of late seem to be coming up who are playing a far more direct sort of music. Not this sort of very melodic, insipid music that seems to have been coming out of Britain for so long. Which is good to see. So I do think there is, for a lot of people, a tendency toward that sort of music now . . . which we’ve been playing for the last two years.

G.B.: Have there been changes to your material, particularly in a situation, of live presentation, over the last six to eight months?

N.C.: Well I think there’s been a development of our music, definitely. I can’t really explain where it’s gone to actually. I

can’t remember, to tell you the truth. Visually, we’ve become a lot more confident. The whole thing is a lot more straight forward, a far more direct confrontation with the audience.

G.B.: Are you finding a necessity for confrontation? Do people need it?

N.C.: It’s remarkable in Britain how much you can confront the audience, particularly, even in a very physical way to the front row, for instance, like physically attack them and they seem to enjoy it, which is rather odd in my opinion.

But we don’t play one sort of gig. We’re not in it for entertainment. We’re not entertainers. We go on stage purely for our own benefit, and not for the audiences benefit. The fact that the audience might become fascinated by our music or whatever, which does occur, is just a happy coincidence in my opinion.

I want people to like us, or hate us, but that’s not really any consideration to how we are on stage. The way I perform is just the way I perform to the sort of music that we’re playing at the moment. It is very aggressive music, and at the same time also very funny, I think, and very dirty.

G.B.; Are people understanding that?

N.C.: I consider any mass, or public or crowd to be basically made up of cretins. There are always certain people who are slightly more intelligent and in tune with what we’re doing and I think they understand, and that we do get through to people. And after a number of performances we do kind of pummel these people’s minds slightly and eventually they do understand what we’re on about, and they can see the humour of our music.

G.B.: You said you weren’t entirely happy with ‘Prayers On Fire’.

N.C.: Well at the time we recorded it we were, but in the most healthiest way possible we are not satisfied with it because now we know we can make a much better record.

For some time I was very worried because I didn’t think we could make a better record than ‘Prayers On Fire’, but that was a very dry period we went through. But now we’re feeling far more inspired and so forth. Some really great songs are coming out, and ideas, and I really do think the next record will be a fucking good one. We’re really excited about doing it. We’re doing it in Melbourne.

G.B.: You’ve got the material for that already . . . ?

N.C.: Well we’ve got half an album’s worth of material that I think I’d like to record. But I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with the rest. I like to write a fair amount of it in the studio, anyway.

G.B.: Do you reckon that the English press is having a hard time being forced to ‘accept’ an Australian band as being good?

N.C.: Well I think a lot of them are, yeah, a number of them still aren’t accepting us for that very reason. They have a very prejudiced, bigoted press here, but then there are a lot of critics who are very much on our side who I don’t think it worries in the slightest.

All people are different. Australians are considered .. .

Australian music has still got a very bad name here, but in all modesty, I do think that our group has done a lot of good to make it known that good music can come out of an environment like Australia that is so far away from the pulse of things.

G.B.: Without being bunched into the same group as Icehouse and so on.

N.C.: We haven’t come over to London in order to make Britain think that Australia’s good. I personally really don’t care about whether Britain likes Australia or not, it doesn’t worry me at all. And we’re certainly not doing it for Australia’s sake. When we were there, we played in Australia for three years, and apart from a handful of fans, we got no recognition from the media, you know, television, newspapers, record companies weren’t interested in us except for Keith Glass. We had no help whatsoever.

I find it a bit sick to read certain articles written by certain papers saying that, you know, “ Our boys have done it! We were behind them all the time,” and all this sort of shit.

Papers like RAM and shows like Countdown and so forth make me utterly sick. The most unimaginative and gutless media that Ive ever come across. They really need Britain or America to first pat the Australian group on the back before they’ll take any notice of them whatsoever. They’re a very retarded media in Australia. I’m really quite bitter about that. I’m not bitter for us, because we were lucky enough to get out of it. We were lucky enough to have somebody lend us enough money to get out of Australia, so that we didn’t die there like most of the good groups do.

There’s been numerous cases of really great groups, groups who I’ve seen in Australia who worked on a completely underground level, were given no recognition by anybody and eventually just folded up, because they just couldn’t survive. These groups are just gnats, and there is this media who are a big fly swat that knocks them out of the sky one by one. They’re not given a chance.

G.B.: Do you think there’s something to be said for not putting yourself in a position to get splattered like that?

N.C.: No, I don’t think so at all! I’ve heard a great deal of British music, and seen it live, and some of the stuff that’s come out of Australia, not come out, but that was in Australia, is really b ri. .. I mean I can list a couple of really brilliant bands who’ve just had trouble continuously, because they won’t get any recognition by the media. It’s the media in Australia that are killing off Australia’s hope of having any foothold in the world as far as good n.usic goes.

They Insist on sending over bands like The Angels and Mi-sex and so forth who are just, when they get to London, just laughed right out of the country, because they’re so derivative of British music or American music.

Papers like N.M.E. and so forth, which I don’t think are worth very much anyway, won’t have a bar of them. Jo Jo Zep and people like that, I mean it’s just ludicrous. They shouldn’t be sending the groups that are hackneyed and should have been put out to pasture long ago. They should be sending out the new groups.

G.B.: ‘Prayers On Fire’ was described in one paper as being iike Santana with bad beatnik iyrics.

N.C.: (laughing) Well, urn, I think it’s a little bit off the track, but it’s quite amusing. I’d much rather read something like that than “they are primitive, and manic and blah bl-blah” which everyone says about us. We’ve been called a lot of different things, and I have a few favourites, which reminds me, does Craig N. Pearce still write for Roadrunner?

G.B.: Yeah, thoroughly.

N.C.: I don’t think I’ve had a chance to meet him, but I must say I’m incredibly impressed by his writing.

Roadjrumi^p25

by Toby Cliiebaz

Pbolos - Marh Green The previous night I witnessed a Midnight Oil performance with all the other panel-beaters at Adelaide’s Stage Door. Our drunken sensibilities and highest expectations were duly swamped by the Oil’s awesome release of energy. Evei7body was satis­ fied in their own kind of gladiatorial way, while the oxygen mask fell on Garrett’s face backstage.

Today, Saturday, September 26th, I find myself waiting at The Kent Town Lodge, undergoing a fair degree of trepidation before interviewing Mr Garrett.

TC: You’re a hard man to pose any questions to without retracing what has aiready been said. You have done quite a few interviews.

GARRETT: I know. I’m sick of doing interviews.

TC: Do you think ‘Place Without A Postcard’ wouid have been dramaticaliy different if the recordings took place in Australia, even if Glyn Johns produced and engineered it here?

GARRETT: No. Being away from home makes you more aware of what home is. You might have a tendency to focus more on those things that are close to your heart, like sky and all those other things. But I don’t think being in England and recording in England had any great bearing on the album.

TC: How do you form a working procedure with a big producer like Glyn Johns? Are guiding rules thrashed out beforehand or is confrontation used as a creative tool in the studio?

GARRETT: Confrontation is used as a creative tool in the studio. Glyn Johns has made about a billion albums with a billion different people, so he has a very strong idea about what he wants to do. We’ve made 2V2 albums with IV 2 people. You may have a very strong idea of what you want to do but you may not be totally sure how to do it. So consequently you’ll go along with the producer if you feel

comfortable with what he’s doing. If you feel uncomfortable and don’t think he’s doing it right that’s when you start fighting. All things considered, it was very easy to do it with him despite the fact that we always came up against him.

He didn’t really understand what we were about. I didn’t ever expect him to really.

TC: Would you say the album has a definite Glyn Johns stamp on it?

GARRETT: Yeah, it sounds a little bit like the stuff he has done in the past. The thing about Glyn Johns’ albums is that they are very well engineered. They have to be played loud to be fully appreciated, they’re not heavily layered or overly produced. The sounds themselves are quite raw and true.

TC: What was the set up like in his studio? Was it more sophisticated than the studios found in Australia?

GARRETT: No, it was a very simple studio. Just a stable with minimum soundproofing, not many mirrors, not many rock’n’roll magazines sitting around the foyer (boisterous laughing), and not a great deal of space-age equipment.

He’s got his own mixing console desk which includes inputs and outputs at critical stages that have both valve and transistor components. So you can either get a transistor or valve sound coming out, that really helps in achieving a warmer sound. The studio didn’t have many effects. It was basic, almost primitive.

TC: Are you restraining your music consciously or subconsciously in the studio, all on the basis of how it will be received live?

GARRETT: We don’t ever think about it or restrain ourselves musically. Getting a good atmosphere in the studio is very hard though, it’s like trying to romance in the daylight. For some reason it’s easier to get involved with those things in the dark hours.

TC: What are Midnight Oil’s aims as a band?

GARRETT: The same as anyone else’s. To stay out of trouble, make good records, have fun.

Petep Garrett: Relax With Max TC: Is it still fun?

GARRETT: (quietly but emphatically) Of course it is. It has changed a lot but it’s still fun to do, we do it on our own terms which has always been a band aim.

TC: Has Midnight Oil become something of a crusade?

GARRETT: Well, it was becoming a bit of a crusade. Now I’m inclined. . . I wasn’t enjoying it when people wanted me to say lots of political things. So consequently I now leave it up to the lyrics and music, all I want to do is dance and rage on stage. I’ll still have a go at people from time to time, but I don’t go on stage with a list of things I’m going to talk about.

TC: Spontaneity?

GARRETT: Yeah, five days a week (laughter).

TC: Where do you draw your strongest inspiration from? Is it your Australianism, your isolationist heritage? Are you but story-tellers for a punch drunk generation?

GARRETT: We’re all of those things I guess to a small or lesser extent. We draw our inspiration by looking around and by being out there. Not being stuck somewhere and fantasizing, we’re not a fantasy band. People know what the Oil’s are about by now, they know what’s going to be said and what they can expect to see. The audience wants to enjoy that. If they want to waste themselves, party, or be intense about it, then they choose the way they are going to deal with it. Obviously there are people who are more aware of what’s going on and appreciate it. I don’t mind if somebody just jumps up and down with a smile on their face. I’m happy.

TC: We hear all the time that Midnight Oil is poiiticai and has a message. What are the politics and what is the message?

GARRETT: Ahhh (with menace and frustration). I think you only hear those things. I’m not here to talk as a politician, neither is the band. It’s a band of Australian musicians, we write about political things that we feel strongly about. The politics are personal politics. Obviously, under definition, they are more left than they are right. I think they just concern politics. Everyone. . . sometimes it dawns on them that although they think what they are doing is important and valid, in actual fact it doesn’t matter a shit. There’s every chance that the C.I.A. and Ronald are more and James Moainie

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self defeating to play to ten people in Birmingham. That’s the first reason why we only played in London. The second thing was that we did play two shows, and we were offered more shows in England at other places. We were going to do another show in London and at a place on the west coast, but we ended up buggerizing in the studio so we never made it. It was a lot easier just to do a couple of shows in London. To think of playing anywhere else you would have to have £899,000 plus V.A.T. TC: In the June issue of Roadrunner you said, “ People tell me that video is the next big thing and that people soon will be paying $5 to go to a pub and see videos and I say bullshit they are. We won’t have anything to do with that.” While In the September issue of RAM you say, “Maybe we could work with a support that’s really different from us and split the night into two sets, or video some of the songs and run them as an intermission.” Have your thoughts on video been tempered to some extent?

GARRETT: (laughing) Obviously. I know they’re con­ tradictory but I’ll try to reconcile them. What I was talking about in the first quote was the idea that entertainment would become totally media dominated. In other words there would be no live entertainment. I’ve seen the way video has been used overseas and it has never been all that effective. I was waving my hands about because I resented people saying that the art of performance was obsolete, that it was going to be replaced by video. The second quote was just about different ideas for shows. I think you have to use the tools or else you’re narrow minded, you’ll turn into a luddite or something. It’s there and it has to be used constructively and as intelligently as possible. But just the thought of becoming a video artist. . .

I’d rather be a fisherman. There’s something about video that I still have to come to grips with. I’m still locked on to my 12 inch Sanyo. Alright come on, any more Dorothy Dix’s? (laughter). I haven’t even eaten and he’s asking me these questions.

TC: Have the band any projects after this tour? Do any of the members of Midnight Oii have the urge to work with other artists in a musicai or technical capacity?

GARRETT: You’ll have to ask the others that. We done some things in the p a st. . . Jimmy has wrote some things for David Bradbury the film maker. We have a relationship with him and some of the people that work with him, so there is a possibility we will do more work for film. I’m interested in working with a couple of young Sydney bands in an advisory rather than a production sense. We would like to play with other people but what we do keeps us incredibly busy.

TC: Do you think you will ever delve into acting as a creative outlet?

GARRETT: You won’t believe this. On the way to England we stopped off at Los Angeles, we were sitting in this cafe with all these Fawcett Majors type waitresses and Chips type waiters walking around saying have a nice day and all that. Then this woman came up to me and said, “ I want to put you in the movies” (hilarity), we said “ pull the next one love” in the appropriate Australian nasal infliction She offered me $300 to come across the road to do a 15 minute screen test for this bald movie she was doing. I said no.

Then she came back a few minutes later and offered me $500. By this time my manager was saying take it, take it, I get 10%. But I just refused. I’m not interest in acting although I believe anybody could do it, I wouldn’t want to stand around all day learning lines. It would be more of a waste of time than travelling in cars from A to B. I really like to use my time effectively, and there is a certain amount of narcissism that doesn’t appeal that’s attached to it. I haven’t met many actors that have the full quid. But of course tomorrow I may announce my leading role in the Repertory Theatre of Tasmania . . . Proudly Presenting The Ghoul’. Acting????

TC: Thank you for the interview.

GARRETT: It was a pleasure.

Toby Cluechaz

(Originally published in Toby Cluechaz’s fanzine, The Arch­ angel, Edition No. 5.)

important than what you do tomorrow. The Fraser Government has shown an arrogant disregard for young people. They can make a very blatant decision like the CYSS Scheme, but as soon as people start jumping up and down and it looks like they are going to lose votes the decision is mysteriously reversed. What kind of thinking has gone on behind things like that? Our politics are personal, we’re not a fucking flag waving band and we refuse to be turned into one. I’m sure there are bands who are more political than us in this country. All it gets down to is that other bands haven’t worked under the same subject matter as us, they haven’t got the same concern as us. We might really become concerned with one particular issue in the future, though I have no idea at present what that could be. Everyone in this band has different political views, we range right across the spectrum.

TC: A rock band airing views must put you in a very dangerous position?

GARRETT: (said in a low but sure voice) Of course it does, of course it does mate. What happens if you suddenly decide to become a member of The Young Lions Club? (uproarious laughter). It’s dangerous all around to be a political band, unless you have a manifesto that states what you do and don’t believe in . . . you have to be prepared to jump up on a box and talk about it. The stuff you are talking about can change so people should have the nous to take it at face value. We just happen to know that the majority of politicians are liars, bullshit artists, and thieves. I get fucked over so I write about it.

TC: Did any one event politicize you or was it but a gradual awakening?

GARRETT: Well, having the opportunity to be educated. . . although half of it was a joke and the other half was worthwhile, started it. And I was involved in the Vietnam era near its end. I guess that was a turn around because on one hand people were calling those who didn’t want to go to war cowards, liars, lily-white, totally unloyal to one’s country etcetera. These people were put in jail because they didn’t want to go to Vietnam. While on the other hand you had these huge marches taking place in Sydney and Mel­ bourne, led by Clergymen and Jim Cairns and Co. Then ten years later when the whole story unfolds in America, you actually realize that what you thought about the war was slight compared to what really happened. Such dawnings really had an effect on me, the same with November 11th,

those events really hardened my view. This is still a very free country but you still have to fight for those freedoms.

TC: One of your new songs is called ‘Lucky Country’, presumably inspired by Donald Horne’s book of the same name. Mr Horne also wrote a book called ‘Death Of The Lucky Country’. Which view do you subscribe to?

GARRETT: I don’t know, I don’t know, wait till you hear the song. Umm . . . I think the reason we came up with that song was linked to our stay away from Australia. This/s the lucky country there’s no question about that, people don’t realize it, that’s the problem. We felt strongly about it.

TC: Everybody goes to a Midnight Oil concert with the belief that this band is saying something important, even though they only manage to decipher a sentence here and a sentence there. Is that deliberate rock mystique with the music against the words? Are we meant to hear only certain things?

GARRETT: It’s neither of those things. The band plays so strong that I just have to fight my way through, so some gets through and some doesn’t. And that’s basically the only reason why we print our lyrics on the album cover. I don’t believe in printing them for any other reason because it can be a bit pretentious. If you print the lyrics people may think they are important when they’re not. We just print them so people know what we’re on about. There is a dividing line though, in the way we like our sound set up. We don’t like it if the voice is sitting up above the band, if the voice is above the band then ail it is is voice. When that happens the band becomes a backing band. That’s what the Oil’s are about on stage, loud and hurting (laughter). . . I have to bribe the sound guy to turn me up (more laughter of the same kind).

TC: Why didn’t you play a couple of gigs in a city rather than London? Surely that would have been a greater litmus test for English reaction? It must have been strange being 12,000 miles from Australia but still playing to Australians.

GARRETT: Ahh, that’s a good question. Umm . . . the reasons again are fairly simple, we were living and rehearsing in London. Originally we only wanted to play once so as to rid ourselves of the cobwebs. We had been on planes and through customs and all that stuff . . . we wanted to loosen up a bit. We had a fair idea that there would be a few Australians there — no-one else would know anything about us would they? It would have been

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Robdruniier 27

HUNCHBACK HEAVEN AN INTERVIEW WITH THE REEL’S GUITARIST, CRAIG HOOPER EARL GREY CIRCLES WARILY . . .

I’m gradually getting the opinion that doing your first interview is like losing your virginity (a well worn analogy I guess, but pretty accurate), you’re anxi­ ous to please and get everything in the right place like you’ve been doing it all you’re life, but one little dissatisfied groan and all that enthusiastic impetus goes right down hill.

Such were the misgivings I had when I went along to the Highway Inn to interview the Reels— amidst such confidence builders like “ Oh you’re doing the Reels! You’d better watch for Dave Mason — he’s got a tongue that guy! Woah — do I feel sorry for you . . . oh, and good luck” .

So off I trots, with a not too portable cassette player under my arm. After the gig I ran out after the departing band and caught up with guitarist/keyboardsman Craig. I mumbled some inane comment, partly proud, mostly cynical, like “ welcome to Adelaide, Athens of the South” and got the reply “ Do they call it that because of the large Greek population?” Oh God, I thought. At this point Dave Mason turned around and told us to ‘watch out for the poles’. My befuddled brain (in no small way due to drink) thought that, since no poles were visibly erect before us, Dave must have been referring to the ethnic question. So, what do I do but trip over some pole lying on the ground like some fence for bloody aardvarks .. .

Some start.

The Highway Inn isn’t exactly God’s home on earth, and is usually populated with locals — mostly underage kids pretending to be overage so as they can get pissed, with a few drunk overages acting, understandably enough, underage. Confusing for everyone concerned — even the Reels looked a bit perplexed despite the up-front crowd of loyal tens. “This song’s like Stars on Forty-five” , said Dave Mason. “ Reels on Seventy-eight” replied a loud chorus of the audience, most of whom kept repeating it as if it were an example of their own inventive, sparkling and original wit. “Yobbo’s” said Dave, during the gig, “ Uninspiring” , he called them after­ wards. “ Do you think it partly defeats the purpose to write a catchy pop song with a ‘protest’ content, when a large percentage of the audience, even if their singing along, take no notice of the lyrics anyway?” , I asked Craig.

(Dave Mason had just left after a conversa­ tion which ended with statement “ I’ll just tell you a load of shit, so talk to them. They’ll give you shit too, but it’ll be better than mine” .)

“The masses aren’t going to get your meaning regardless. You won’t get anything over unless you do Sex Pistols and stuff. You might as well have them singing along as not singing along” .

It’s hard to watch a band like the Reels, still touring, still only just breaking even, as well as their well-known problems with their record company, without thinking that some­ one, somewhere along the way, must have broken a mirror, or walked under a ladder. “ We seem to be prone to disasters, with the tour being budgeted out so it’s going to make money and then something happens.”

Do you ever feel disillusioned?

Paul, the Reels bass player, answers, “ No, not anymore. Used to, but you get used to it” . “ Yeah, you get used to disasters. Except the only thing is you don’t ever let yourself feel too confident with what’s going on, because you don’t want to get too confident and then find something happens that lets you down” . . .

What’s happening with regards as to the record company problems? “ Every time we’ve done a filmclip, every time we’ve had photo sessions, the band’s changed its line-up, and they (the record company) don’t understand that any change in line-up takes time to work. So their sort of in a quandary as to whether they have confidence in us or not” .

Have there been any moves overseas?

“That’s where a lot of the record company hassles are — because we’re signed to Polygram records, they’ve got ties with Polygram International which means Polyg­ ram International have first option on all our material, and they don’t have to release it. If they don’t release it within a certain amount of time, then we can go somewhere else, but what they usually do is release a couple of copies or a song on a compilation album” . m

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Any reaction? “ Sebastian Chase, who has just moved into our management, has just been over­ seas on a trip right around the world, and it seems there are heaps of people in smaller record companies who are really interested in the band, but Polygram International are releasing small amounts of stuff, which has stopped us going to them for release. “ It works in a band way too, since, because every country has a separate company — even though the actual headquarters are into us — they can’t force any of the territories to push the material, like in England we just got one add in NME, and that was the extent o f ' the promotion.”

As it stands the Reels have another 18 months of contract left — ‘but they’re coming round’ . . .

I ask them whether their financial problems were affected by their purchase of their P.A.? (actually I said “ Gee, that Bose P.A. system must’ve cost a bit?!” ) “ Well, everything’s on Hire Purchase . . .

But it’s worth it — most rock’n’roll P.A.’s are dinosaur technology and are too heavy to lug around. ” Do you find it easier working as a 4-piece? “ It’s simpler and easier as a 4-piece, except getting used to the rhythm machine.

Why did Karen leave? “ Karen had only written 2 or 3 songs in the year she was with the band, whereas, beforehand, when there wasn’t any pressure on her, she used to write a lot. But the thing was, her types of songs were ones the Reels couldn’t do anyway. ” What are the ex-members of the Reels doing now? “ Karen’s not doing much. John Bliss has a short of cabaret band where he plays with brushes and stuff. Colin has a band called ‘Private Orchestra’, and he’s doing some interesting things but . . . it’s very, very private.” (Paul added that Colin had a 16-piece choir as well.)

Are any of the Reels doing any outside work? “ Dave’s doing some work with Todd Hunter from XL Capris, but that’s just a one-off. I just do jingles and sessions.”

Any recently? “ Probably not in the last 6 months, because the band’s been really busy; but, oh, heaps of Bacardi ads — I never got to play on a Coke ad! Oh yeah, and ‘Come on, Aussie, Come on’, not the first one, but one a year later. That was great— the real singers came in the first day and did the vocals in tune and the next day we came back , did the guitar overdubs, and there was this whole heap of drunken people from the advertising agency and we all did the rest of the vocals . . .”

Eventually the subject came round to the Reels most recent epee, the ‘Heavy Metal: No 3’. Why ‘Heavy Metal’?

Paul answers: “ Because it was going to be all guitars” .

“Well, it was all guitars” , Craig points out, “There was only about 2 keyboard tracks.

Like ‘Haunted’, that was all guitars, there was one keyboard track which was just a low bass drone which you couldn’t really get on guitar.”

The Reels as a guitar band? “ I don’t think so . . .”

Well, that more or less wrapped up the interview, since everyone was getting pretty tired, and had only decided to give it, to get it ‘over and done with’. We sat around in the ‘suite’ (that was the hotels name for it, anyway), finished off the beer, chatted about fast food, turgid parties and late night television.

The Reels (and a cliche, however tried it may be, is still relevant here) are one of the best, yet under-rated bands in Australia. No matter how ‘blown-out’, say. Midnight Oil might make you, or how far over the top a group like the Angels might take you, the Reels are one of the most consciously enjoyable and uplifting bands I’ve seen.

(Even the die-hard underground art-punks forget their ‘cool’ to dance). So I guess I felt pretty good on the way out of the Reels hotel room. What’s more, as we (myself, photo­ grapher Mike and friend Anne), left, Dave Mason, who had been sitting in the adjacent room with Stephan (the drummer), yelled out “ See you later on, guys” . . ., leaving me thinking that maybe (probably?), he wasn’t such a bad guy after all . . .

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ROADRUNNER READERS POLL 1981 A ustralia

Other Instrument

Gmup 1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.

Sunnyboys Cold Chisel Birthday Party Midnight Oil Icehouse Laughing Clowns Models Reels Angels INXS

M ale Vocalist

1. Tim Finn (Split Enz)

2. Iva Davies (Icehouse)

3. Jimmy Barnes (Cold Chisel) 4. Jeremy Oxley (Sunnyboys) 5. Peter Garrett (Midnight Oil)

Female Vocalist

1. Julie Mostyn (Flaming Hands)

2.

Sharon O’Neill 3. Renee Geyer 4. Linda Nutter (Dugites) 5. Ann Morrow (Numbers)

Guitarist 1. Ian Moss (Cold Chisel)

2. Jeremy Oxley (Sunnyboys)

3. Ed Kuepper (Laughing Clowns) 4. Iva Davies (Icehouse) 5. Roland Howard (Birthday Party)

Bass 1. Keith Welsh (Icehouse)

2. Phil Small (Cold Chisel)

3. Mark Ferrie (Models) 4. Peter Oxley (Sunnyboys) 5. Chris Bailey (Angels)

Drums 1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

Rob Hirst (Midnight Oil) John Lloyd (Icehouse) Steve Prestwich (Cold Chisel) Jeffrey Wegner (Laughing Clowns) Phil Calvert (Birthday Party)

Keyboards

1. Don Walker

2.

Eddie Rayner 3. Steve Harris 4. Andrew Duffield 5. Anthony Smith

1. Jo Camilleri . Wilbur Wilde

2

3. Bob Farrell (Laughing Clowns) 4. Greg Ham (Men At Work) 5. Matt Taylor

Album

1. Sunnyboys

2.

Drink 1. Rum & Coke 2. Water 3. Scotch & Coke

Hero 1. Myself 2. Iva Davies 3. Jimmy Barnes

Villain

Of Skins and Heart — Church 3. Prayers On Fire — Birthday Party 4. Quasimodo’s Dream — Reels 5. Swingshift — Cold Chisel

1. Molly Meldrum 2. Malcolm Fraser 3. Ronald Reagan

Single

Filmclip

2. Love In Motion —

1. Downunder — Men At Work 2. Cut Lunch — Models 3. History Never Repeats ^ Split Enz

1. Release The Bats — Birthday Party

Icehouse 3. Happy Man — Sunnyboys 4. Unguarded Moment — Church 5. Don’t Wanna Be The One — Midnight Oil

Film 1. Gallipoli 2. Wrong Side Of The Road 3. Atlantic City

TV Show 1. Simon Townsend’s Wonderworld 2. Nightmoves 3. Hey Hey It’s Saturday

Radio Station

Saying 1. Do Yourself A Favour

Cricketer 1. Dennis Lillee 2. Rod Marsh 3. Dirk Welham

Worst Band 1. Air Supply 2. Jimmy & The Boys 3. Cold Chisel

1. 2JJJ-FM (Sydney) 2. 3RRR-FM (Melbourne) 3. 3XY (Melbourne)

Live 1. Midnight Oil 2. The Angels 3. Sunnyboys

Songwriter

INTERNATIONAL Group 1. Devo

2. Rolling Stones

1. Don Walker 2. Ed Kuepper 3. Jeremy Oxley

3. Roxy Music 4. The Cure 5. Police

Producer

Single

1. Lobby Loyde 2. Tony Cohen 3. Mark Opitz

1. Ghost Town — Specials 2. Start Me Up — Rolling Stones 3. Fascist Groove Thang — Heaven 17

New Talent

Album

1. Hunters and Collectors 2. Sunnyboys 3. Divinyls

1. New Traditionalists — Devo 2. Trust — Elvis Costeilo 3. Psychedelic Jungle — Cramps

Venue

Tour

1. Sydney Trade Union Club 2. Jump Club (Melbourne) 3. Capitol Theatre (Sydney)

1. Cure 2. Echo & the Bunnymen 3. Police

RECORD FACTORY F or M usic

BUCKOFF a ll lo c a l records & cassettes THE MOST COMPREHENSIVE RANGE OFAUSTHAUAH i ENGLISH IHOEPEmENT IP s AND SM GIES M SOUTH AUSTRAUA

including

Regular, Postcard, GAP, Deluxe, Rough Diamond, Green, Larrikin, Au Go Go, Sprint, Powderworks, Stunn, Rough Trade, 4AD, Factory, Ralph, Giant, Crass.

Roadrunner 29

Conversiilions with tt

by Donalil Robertson

“After the tour of America last year anc the tour with AC/DC this year, we just deck fuck it, we’re a rock and roll band. Bei basically, that’s what we play best.”

Doc Neeson is sitting behind a desk on the floor of the Phillips Building in North S] headquarters of CBS Records Australia. Behind the classic Sydney view — Harbour Bridge, House and the shell of Luna Park. He and ‘nev drummer Brent Eccles have just completed a ro ‘phoners’ to country radio stations. The 12" ‘Ne Live’ live E.P. is just out and the CBS macli spreading the word. For something that was ba intended as a thank you to the band’s live foil and a teaser for the now released ‘Night Attack’ i the E.P. is hovering dangerously close to the n; top ten.

1981 has been a quiet, almost restful, year 1 Angels. After building themselves up, through i sheer hard work, to the position of top live band country and having a couple of cracks at Amerii Europe, it cannot be said they didn’t deserve il “We decided’’, says Doc, “that we were going 1 whatever time it took this year to come up w album — we wanted to be happy with all the before we went into the studio.”

The original idea was for most of the songs written on the tour bus through America last yej bus had two special ‘songwriting compartment with ten people on the bus there were too distractions according to Doc, to actually get finished.

With Graham ‘Buzz’ Bidstrup vacating the mer’s stool after the AC/DC dates. New Zea Brent Eccles was drafted in. After a brief flurry dates in May, all five members spent the monthi May to September working on the song idea hadn’t come to fruition on the tour bus.

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“The whole process worked really well,’’ according to Doc. “ Because it wasn’t four of us and a ‘new drummer’ — all five of us worked on the songs. And the dates in September, starting in Darwin and then working down the East Coast, were like the final road-test for the songs. I think that’s a good way for our band to do it. With ‘Dark Room’ we were still learning songs in the studio.’’

Doc is really pleased with the production work by American Ed Thacker on the new album.

“As well as being a really good engineer, he’s also a really good musician, and he spent a/of of time getting the songs right sounds right. Like the drum sound is really b/g. And so the mixing has been relatively easy — there’s very few overdubs.

“I think the direction of the band is more clearly defined than it has been for a bit. ‘Face to Face’ and ‘No Exit’ were both pretty rocky, then we went moody with ‘Dark Room’. This album is just a flat out rocker — but not like ‘Son of Face to Face’. The songs are still definitely Angels songs, but there have been some changes. The drumming is certainly . . . a new style, but it’s still full on.

“There’s quite noticeable changes but no big break in direction.’’

If you’re not already a fan of the Angels, then neither ‘Never So Live ’ or ‘Night Attack’ is likely to change your mind. But that’s probably more due to the limitations of the hard rock style and the Angels’ niche within it than anything else. In the greater scheme of things the Angels and their ilk are breaking no new ground; their battleground is face to face with their audience. The qualities that count with a rock and roll (traditional) outfit, energy, power, passion, speed, can only be fully displayed in a live situation. The music is merely the blueprint for confrontation and/or mass celebration.

Doc Neeson: “There’s nothing on the album we can’t do on stage.’’

Did you feel you were up against it all, this year?

Coming back from America without really having made a big dent were you surprised at the reaction you got, which was pretty much “over the top’’.

“I was delighted,’’ states Doc, matter of factly, “but I don’t think surprised is the right word because if you’re at a show because you’re an Angels fan — I mean the show gets me excited too . . . ” It didn’t affect your confidence at all?

“No. i think my confidence would be affected if I thought we were going out and putting on a substan­ dard show — then I’d have worries. But we were all really happy with the new songs and with the way Brent’s drumming fitted in.”

A lot of Australian bands who come back from the States have lost confidence in themselves.

“What i’ve seen of bands who have done that is that they get into real trouble if they lose their direction.

Because they see America and they see that American bands, American music has less edge than Australian music. And American radio is so into soft inoffensive music so they try and . . . water down isn’t always the right word but they compromise their sound towards getting their records played on the radio. And that takes them away from their roots.

“If anyone has been an example it’s AC/DC. They’ve stuck with what they had, and they slogged away for three years. They showed you don’t have to change your style with each album. Their latest album is almost like their first album, in a sense.”

The same basic elements anyway.

“Yeah. So they’re an example of a band who says, ‘Well, fuck it — we’re what we are and that’s just what we’re going to keep doing.’ I mean there’s a lot of bands who 90 by the wayside because of that attitude — nobody likes them.

“The other thing is i guess it depends what kind of following you’ve built up here. I’ll use classic cases like Sherbet who built their following on a teeny audience or bopper audience, whatever word you want to use . . . ” A radio audience, a singles audience too . . .

“Yeah. A singles audience — which is notoriously fickle. So when they’re away from their market and not there to reinforce their position, then their audience will just pick up on the next thing coming through, i think it was John Paul Young then. Whereas groups like AC/DC, they were away five years and when they came back they were still solid. I think we’ve got, by building up a live following as opposed to a radio following, we’ve got a lot of that same kind of loyalty as well. And those people do come out to shows.”

DOC NEESON: “I remember when we first used to go down to Melbourne and play the Tiger Lounge. And people would be standing there saying, ‘Yes — but is it art?’ Of the bands I see emerging in Australia at the moment, Sydney bands are definitely more hard­ hitting. There’s always been a touch of rockabilly about Melbourne bands — of course there are exceptions to everything I’m saying— but right back to Daddy Cool, and even Skyhooks, the guitars were there but they wereiight guitars. And I think a lot of the difference has to be down to the audience. Sydney audiences, in general, are more responsive than audiences anywhere else.”

The voice of experience. On the inside sleeve of ‘Night Attack’ is a picture of the steps of the Sydney Opera House in the early hours of January 1st 1981. A few hours before the picture was taken Doc was laid out by a bottle thrown from the crowd.

Australia seems to have gradually become a part of the rock world over the last two years. There is interest in this country’s music from overseas, particularly America and Canada, and to a lesser extent Europe and Britain.

“I think one of the reasons for that,” says Neeson, “is that it’s the one area that hasn’t been exposed very much. And I think we’ve got a very distinctive blend of sounds here. British bands . . . (long pause for thought) . . . perhaps it’s because you’ve got lots of people there, but British bands tend to get one kind of sound. American bands tend to be softer.

“Australian bands have that melting pot feel.

They’ve got that British feel — but like with rock music being basically derived out of blues, we’ve still got that American music thing in it. And I think that’s a pretty interesting sound to a lot of people now. In a way we’ve almost kept some of the roots going that have withered and bypassed by now.

“When Australian bands have just done their own thing, as opposed to getting onto something like ska, or something like that, where I don’t think they’ve done it too successfully, that’s what people seem to enjoy best.”

One thing that I hope never happens here is radio becoming a slave to its demographic survey — which is certainly the case in the States. You know, whether they’re getting the 25-39 year olds, or whatever. That’s making new sorts of rules for radio and consequently for what they’ll play. And goes back to band— what are they going to seiect to play?

Something that’s going to fit into that demographic range.

“Yeah, sure. It’s changing the whole thing. Band’s making their sound suit radio — I don’t think that’s what a band should be about.

“It’s still a lot freer in this country. As an example, take Midnight Oil. There’s a band who have ignored all sorts of ‘rules’, because they wanted to do it their way — and it’s worked for them. They’ve built up a following and because radio’s aware of the following they’ll play their music.

“I think radio’s into making money. And if they use music, then that’s unfortunate for music.”

How important is the structure around the Angels, Dirty Pool (the booking agency) management, record company?

“I’d say it’s very important. Those things came up because we were finding ourselves in a situation where agents were not getting the best deal for the band, they were getting the best deal for themselves.

Like the radio station thing, they’re in business to keep themselves going, rather than a specific artist.

“We were getting sent along to dinner dances. All we could play — we played all our soft tunes in the first half an hour and we’d have to go home, because we’d’ve blown the guests away.

“Things like that, and other things like the agent offering three bands as a package to a promoter even if he only wanted the Angels. Tricky stuff.

“So John Woodruffs, Ray Hearn and ourselves, set up an organisation that would book the band into the venue that would be its best showcase. We went through times of refusing to do some gigs because they just weren’t right for us. And that’s important, because otherwise it’s just a wasted night — for everybody.”

Saturday December 5th at Adelaide University was certainly not a wasted night, although there were certainly a number of pretty wasted people in attendance, as the Angels powered their way through a ninety minute set that had the energy, drive and commitment befitting to a world class hard rock band.

When the first thirty yards of the audience are hollering every word in unison with Neeson, you know the Angels are back with a vengeance.

It’s a real homecoming tonight, and the hallowed halls of Adelaide’s seat of learning are gently vibrating in time to the big beat. The leaves on the trees are definitely not the only thing shakin’. The crowd of just under 4,000 are young, primed and appreciative.

There’s not much different about the Angels tonight.

They play all the songs from ‘Night Attack’ and they sit easily with the traditional repertoire. Brent Eccles is a different drummer to Graham Bidstrup, but the overall sound is still Angels. And that’s what the crowd and the band are celebrating. The Angels are a band with a past, but as the songs from yesteryear come rolling out over the lawns they are greeted as friends, rosy-cheeked and alive, rather than shadows of memories. It’s all there, in flesh and blood. And sweat.

In his excellent sleeve notes to ‘The La De Da’s 1964-1974’, Glenn A. Baker makes one of the most perceptive comments about Australian rock bands I have ever read. ‘The bigger you become in Australia, the more meaningless is your future.’

The Angels have the means to buck that axiom, with tours of the U.S. and Europe already booked for 1982.

The only way they are going to do it is by playing to people, cos that’s where they shine.

Roadftiriner' 35

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THE NEW ALBUM FROM

FOR THOSE ABOUT TO ROCK 4

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Critic’s Choice SONG OF THE YEAR “New Lace Sleeves” - Elvis Costello

BAND OF THE YEAR The Reels

SINGLES — HITS “Pressure” - QueenIBowie “Someday I’ll Fly Away” - Randy Crawford “Precious” - Phil Seymour “Que Sera Mi Vida” - Gibson Bros.

“Rock This Town” - Stray Cats “Hold On Tight” -E L O “My Old Piano - Diana Ross “Why Do Fools Fall In Love” - Diana Ross “Missing Person” - Mi Sex

NON-HITS “New King Jack” - Sekret Sekret “W.O.R.K.” - Bow Wow Wow “It’s A Love Thing” - Whispers “Open Season” - Peridots “Truth About You” - Particles

ALBUMS Tattoo You - Rolling Stones Cut Lunch - Models Nightclubbing - Grace Jones Fresh Fruit in Foreign Places - King Creole & The Coconuts

TURKEYS OF THE YEAR Albums Shot Of Love - Bob Dylan My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts - Byrne & Eno Singles Too Many Creeps - Bush Tetras Won’t Let You Down - Ph.D. Gemini Dream - Moody Blues The River - Bruce Springsteen

GIGS John Cale (Lyceum, London): The Undertones (Rain­ bow, London): The Reels (Jump Club): Virgin Prunes (Project, Dublin): Phil Lynott (jamming at the Baggot Inn, Dublin): The Dugites (Jump Club): Belle Stars (Hope And Anchor, London): Australian Crawl (Myer Music Bowl): Pagan Idols (Frankston Tech.): Models (Marconi Ballroom): Hunters And Collectors (Jump Club): Cuban Heels (farewell gig, Macy’s): Paul Kelly & The Dots (Carnaby Inn): Wrecked Jets (farewell gig.

Hearts).

GIGS

Bruce Springsteen - Paris Q Tips - Lyceum, London Ronnie Spector - Rockages, New York New Race - Sergeant Peppers, Sydney Church - any night anywhere Mink DeVille - Hitsville, New Jersey Sunny Boys - any night anytime James Brown - Lone Star Cafe, New York Pete Best Beatles - Southern Cross, Sydney Flaming Hands - Trade Union Club Paul Kelly and The Dots - Manzil Room Broderick Smith’s Big Combo - any place anytime Hunters and Collectors - Brownies

ALBUMS

“The Long Good Friday”: TV Show: “Caught On A Train” (BBC Play).

BOOKS “Subculture And The Meaning Of Style” - Dick Hebidge: “Homesickness” - Murray Bail: “North Of South” -Shiva Naipul: “Elvis” -Albert Goodman: “The Doug Walters Story”: “The Division Of Anger” - Gig Ryan.

JOURNALIST

Singles

Boy - U2 Motown and Atlantic soul re-issues Coup De Grace - Mink DeVille Drama Of Exile - Nico Blue - Elvis Costello Sunny Boys Skins and Heart - Church Sports Play Dylan Gary US Bonds

The Birthday Party - ‘Release The Bats’.

Doll By Doll - ‘Main Travelled Roads’.

Kid Creole and the Coconuts - ‘Me No Pop V. Simple Minds - ‘Love Song’.

INKS - ‘Just Keep Walking’ Grace Jones - ‘Pull Up To the Bumper’.

Laurie Anderson - ‘O Superman’.

Heaven 17 - ‘Fascist Groove Thang’.

FILMS

Doil By Doll - ‘Doll By Doll’.

INKS - ‘Underneath the Colours’.

Kim Wilde - Kim Wilde’.

Elvis Costello - Trust’.

Tactics - ‘My Houdini’.

Marc Bolan - ‘20th Century Boy’.

Marianne Faithfull - Dangerous Acquaintances’

Atlantic City Escape From New York Raiders Of The Lost Ark

WORST FILMS Endless Love Heartbeat

SINGLES

Soft Cell - Tainted Love Church - Too Fast For You, etc Kim Carnes - Bette Davis Eyes Jonathan Coleman - Aussies On 45 Divinyls - Boys In Our Town Peter Shelly - Homosapian New Christs - Waiting For A New God Lenny Kaye - Child Bride Subteranneans - My Flamingo

OVERSEAS TOURS Ian Dury and The Blockheads Smokey Robinson Supremes

BOOKS

MOVIE

Live Midnight Oil - Adelaide Uni. Simple Minds - Apollo Stadium, Adelaide.

Matt Finish - Arkaba Top Room, Adelaide.

INKS - Bridgeway Hotel, Adelaide.

Reels - Tivoli, Adelaide.

No Fixed Address, Palms, Sydney.

Sunnyboys, Governor Hindmarsh, Adelaide.

Madness, Thebarton Town Hall, Adelaide.

Little Heroes, Hilton Hotel, Adelaide.

Dynamic Hepnotics, Adelaide Uni. Bar. Dagoes, Hotel Performance, Adelaide.

ACIDC - Memorial Drive, Adelaide.

The Church - Tivoli, Adelaide.

Elvis - Albert Goldman Endless Love - Scott Spencer Dying Trade - Peter Corns A Man - Oriana Fallaci With William Burroughs Latest collection of essays by Henry Miller Man Bites Dog - compilation The Life Of Delmore Scwartz The Last Good Kiss The Life Of Walt Whitman Repulsion - The Life Of Roman Polanski Music For Chameleons - Truman Copote

Albums

E.P.’s/Mini-Albums Sunnyboys - Sunnyboys’.

Models - ‘Cut Lunch ’.

Dead Kennedy’s - In God We Trust Inc.’ The Dagoes - It’s You .

Matt Finish - Fade Away \ The Sports - ‘Play Dylan (and Donovan)’ Elvis Costello - Honky Tonk Demos .

Films ‘Wrong Side Of The Road’ Altered States’.

T.V. Fox’

Books Fay Weldon - ‘Puff Ball’ Don Dunstan - ‘Felicia’.

Ursula Le Guin - ‘The Dispossessed’

( ^ le s

£>o>nK O

.

Craig N. Pearce

Lizard of the Year

CRICKETER

Aust. Beef exporters

Graham Yallop

Band of Year

Bad Poets Units Birthday Party (Live) Remains (1965) Sunnyboys (1981)

POET John Forbes

Rumour of the Year Easybeats to play Adelaide’s Old Lion.

Albums BEST BANDS

Live

The Spell Laughing Sunnyboys The Spell -

Simple Minds Reels Tactics Hunter & Collectors Aeroplane Footsteps on any night, any planet.

Clowns at the Tivoli - Sinatras Adelaide University Bar

Singles ‘Passion Of Lovers’ - Bauhaus ‘Too Drunk to Fuck’ - Dead Kennedy’s ‘Fascist Groove Thang’ - Heaven 17

Books Religion and the Rise of Capitalism - R. H. Tawney L’Assamoir - Emille Zola Shock of the New - Robert Hughes Gargantuan - Rabelais History of Surrealism - Maurice Nadeau

Albums Prayers on Fire - Birthday Party Sunnyboys - Sunnyboys Passage - For all and none Grace Jones - Night Clubbing Place without a Postcard - Midnight Oil 36 Roadrunner

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Living Eyes - Radio Birdman Pleasant Dream - Ramones Psychedelic Jungle - Cramps

Books The Destroyer: Acid Rock Great Shark Hunt

Singles

ALBUMS

Release The Bats - Birthday Party Ghost Town - Specials Where the trees walk downhill - Moodists

SINGLES

Prince Charming

Prayers on Fire - Birthday Party BGM - Yellow Magic Orchestra Sons & Fascination ISister Feelings Call - Simple Minds

Worst Album Meldrum

Fascist Groove Thang - Heaven 17 Release the Bats - Birthday Party Ashes to Ashes - David Bowie

Meldrum

LIVE

Barney Hoskyns

Simple Minds (Jump Club) Reels (Chapel St. Festival)

David Tonkin

ANNOYANCES

Journalist Fascist Racist

Heavy Handed Poole Muscle Australis Apatheticus

Lang Hancock

INTERESTING PHENOMENA

Wrong side of the road On company business

Adam and the Ants The Dagoes B.E.F.

PERVERSE SUCCESS

Devo

Film Comedy Altered States

T-V. Fox

TACTICS VyiTHOUT A^OEUVRES HOUSEWIVES WITHOUT HOOVERS

think again and catch Tactics somewhere in the urban mulga.

Back to tales of clagged tis­ sues and ‘life on the road’, another hotel room, another soundcheck, the glamour and the clamour. No, seriously folks. After being warned about Gary’s driving, I found I didn’t have to fear for my life, but when Dave took the helm everyone felt the knife-edge of fate. I’m sure they hire these overbuoyant bubble vans to bands in the hope of lowering the number of social deviants.

• • •

• • •

Dave Studdert demonstrates his fluidity Would you let this man drive your car?

It was 3 p.m.

everything was off the rails as usual. A pack of Tactics piied into the hired camper van after work­ ing out which way was west and proceeded to hurtie ac­ ross in that general direc­ tion. For better or worse, this is the band in its naturai eiement — vaguely ordered chaos. We were headed for W arrnambool, then Port­ land, and all things being equai, on to Adelaide even tho’ the arrangements for shows there had gone amiss in ciassic iast-minute styie. iVlost of the band were jacked off enough with Meibourne boredom to hit sieepy S.A. just for a hoiiday. Nucieus had aiready bungied most of the Meibourne dates and even then,

the haif-arsed efforts that masqueraded as that end of the tour were iimp disap­ pointments — the Steppenwoif support, blech, blah and good grief.

After missing the West Gate Bridge and a quick diversion across a No Entry tram-zone and various bits of otherwise safe footpath, the van’s nose was pointed accurateiy toward Geeiong with the aid of a free­ way. Not using a map is at ieast haif the fun of travelling with these guys. I understand how they lost Bob the drummer on the way to Adelaide last time.

For those of you who haven’t been keeping your ears to the grapevine leaves, Tactics are; Angus (guit.) sitting in the bum-numbing centre front reading all about Soviet Litera­ ture, Gary (bass) on the left gazing blankly/thoughtfuliy at

by TYRONE FLEX. whatever freeways have to gaze at. Bob (drum s) the pseudo-ocker, being a stalwart driver, and Dave (guit.) of the piercing honesty brigade chat­ tering in the back with yours truly. Al and Duncan, the everfaithful and talented crew, were for once fitting the trad, roadie role, going down in “the truck’’ with “the gear’’, but more of such things later.

The hayfever factor was on the increase, with this rabid RR reporter being the first sinus set to fall, but such things just add to the “out of it’’ atmos­ phere, ’specially with very little by way of normal Tactic-style stim ulants about. As Dave explained, this band really thrives on touring, for Tactics involves obliterating one’s self, barrelling across the coun­ tryside, connecting with live performances, more in spite of than because of traditional

touring rationale.

The ‘Tactic dilemma’ crop­ ped up in several conversa­ tions during the next week, not that anybody let it get them completely down, ’specially after the W arrnam bool and Portland affairs. The whole problem centres on ineptitude on the part of organisations like Nucleus. “Yeah we know your type of stuff, sorta arty” seems to be the attitude, even tho’ the live fact of Tactics, entirely apart from their recorded ef­ forts, points quite directly to a band who live and play in the true spirit of R’n’R; turbulent but compulsive dance music, with lyrics that attack the crap and yet urge some fort of unity.

Dave at a dead/desperate party, “I’d love to find a new drug, something to get these kids together in.” If your reaction to such a thought approximates to ‘pathetic hippy notions’.

W raarrnambool’s a refreshing little metropolis to roil into. The air has that odd green grass quality, the necks are not too red and both the Tatts Hotel owner and the promoter actu­ ally seemed pleased to see the band — makes a change. After the arrival, the setting up, the run thru and then a relaxed absorption of the surround­ ings. Country pubs being notorious foodwise, Angus at­ tempted to alleviate his anorexic state with slabs of animal protein and managed to disrupt a few nearby couples with his undying admiration for Gadafi and other uncool social phenomena. Oblique extremist political positions get a fair working over both inside and outside the band. In fact Tactics function as a practical focus for such things, in that, musically and lyrically both the accept­ able and the unacceptable are given an equal airing. You didn’t have to be an intellectual elitist in the audience that night to pick up the cutting juxtaposi­ tions of urban hope and subur­ ban desperation, passioned politics and hollow apathy. As was stated in the formal inter­ view that took place after the return to Melbourne. (Dave): “It’s like people who never talk about politics or religion, it’s a renunciation of parts of their interest in society. They say, ‘Politics is for politicians, not for me.’ When in fact it is. What we’re trying to do, it’s pretty naive, I understand all that, but I think naive or not, it’s worth­ while, and it certainly seemed to us that all everybody was doing at the time was em­ phasising the differences bet­ ween people, turning them into angst-ridden wrecks, and squashing them with all these intellectual pretentions”.

As intim ated earlier, the show that night went like a rocket. The Tatts Hotel got its largest insurgence of ‘ragers’ in recent memory (at least 350) and even the classic ‘beerswilling- males-at- the- bar, women-dancing-on-the-floor’ situation was no impediment.

Tactics drew a more complete positive reaction than both (more commercially accept­ able) support bands. The yobs at the bar cheered in true footy fashion each time Angus and Davey started working up their flailing spaghetti body rhythms and the dance floor was largely packed with people letting themselves have the good time that Dave quite honestly prom­ ised at the beginning of the set.

Even the flat-blank request for purchasable drugs was treated (by the audience) like a friend’s plea that was sadly unanswer­ able.

Dave’s straight ahead decla­ ration of brotherhood in “Town and Country”, a new song that must appear on the next album, made complete sense in this environment, with the situation quite unusually reflecting the sentiment. Of course, if you take this as the myth of a mystically moving phenomena, then you’re completely off the track. The audience wanted and the band delivered, without hype or the usual pretentions.

On an ironic level, it was earlier observed, to all around laugh­ ter, that some fool turkey from the local radio station (in true gross-out style) had believed Dave Studdert to be a long lost guitarist from Australian Crawl and had been pushing the ‘fact’ until Dave burst his illusions on a telephone interview. If that scam had any bearing on the audience, the band soon put them right in no uncertain fash­ ion.

Roadrunner 37

r^ rtla n d was much the same.

Hippy dervishes and fashion mirrors alike, the dancefioor was weil coated within the first song. So much for the armchair critic in Meibourne who told the boys they just wouldn’t go down out there in the ‘sticks’.

Again the band piayed weli and the dancers returned the favour. On a lower social level, there was a half-way decent party that night. Only people stuck out in the country could conceive a “hippy” concept party, if you can, imagine 30 of the genuine male-orientated item, ten inept fakers and a scattered bunch of city boys getting written off on diet ale, discussing everything from the delicate art of the inane rave to post-Marx (and all that jazz) politics.

Like Simple Minds, except on a less global scale. Tactics are compulsive travellers. We took the tong way to Adelaide, the general desire being to hit the Coorong and taste a bit of “Storm Boy” country. It may sound corny but the whole band has an unusually strong pull toward the land. In ‘prog­ ressive’ social circles it’s be­ come a trendy hack tool to try and absolve some of the re­ sponsibility and guilt by ‘in­ terest’ in the aboriginal people and their land ties, but few just go out and touch (be touched by) it, just to let it rumble about in their souls. It’s no big deal but inversely, it’s a desperate necessity.

After a night and day of recouperation in Adelaide, Gary, Angus and Duncan de­ cided to head off over to the southern Yorke Peninsula in search of salt lakes, endless lim estone, and postcard coastlines. Angus has since declare his undying love for the place and announced inten­ tions of becoming a beach bum there when the tours finished.

This is no rock star fantasy, just the thought of the disconnect­ ing periods we should all go thru more often.

The bubble van left Adelaide Friday afternoon and took the usual ten hours that the trip takes when you get pulled over by a boy in blue with hand on holster. Ten to one the scene would have been “Wrong Side of the Road” ail over again had we been in some way more obviously tinted. To take things just that little bit closer to the edge, we found that Gary’s licence ran out the next day, and the van’s registration the day after. Dave: “I got the impression when we hired this heap that the guy didn’t expect it to make it back.”

It had been a shame not to play in Adelaide, considering the reaction to the August tour and the unanimous vote for doing more performances in the less mainstream cities, due to greater audience en­ thusiasm. Dave: It’s more they just want to rage, they go along to gigs and they want to dance, they want to have a good time.

But here (Melbourne) they just sit there. They all look like basket cases to me. Like they’d need relaxation, that’s what I’d prescribe.”

Back in said city of basket cases. Tactics turn on the de­ termination in another attempt to get a stronger reaction.

Oddly enough, at 3PB S’s benefit show at the Seaview Ballroom the reaction was there — positive and active, like, a good quarter of the audience unashamedly danced. The oddest thing was that, in this city of fashion conscious cool, the set that sent the buttocks bouncing was virtually a full tilt headbanger, none of the usual ex­ tremes in dynamics and tone, ’m still not quite sure why it went that way, but there was an encore demanded, as some measure of response.

An interview held the Sunday afternoon before that perfor­ mance brought up a lot of items triggered by M elbourne’s seeming apathy, it was held in a flat above Chapel Street while the Chapel Street Festival was burbling away below, making 38 Roadrunner

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oic-Eric Algra

an interesting background behind the conversation. Dave and Bob rolled up first, and Dave being the verbalizer he is, many of the following slabs of conversation are streams of Studdert consciousness.

O N MELBOURNE Dave: “It’s a funny place the old Melbourne. They like them slick. The first thing they want to do is rush into a studio, then they’ve got all these ‘sounds’ and it gets really clinical. . . like Serious Young Insects . . . the guitar player’s got echoes on his echoes. And so many bands sound like the Police, the bands are really into the bucks___ On one hand, you have bands like Essendon Airport, sort o f ‘leftfield’, and on the other hand, you have Broderick Smith’s Big Combo, and nothing much in between.”

Bob: “We haven’t got that kind of image. We don’t ail

_

O N RECENT HISTORY; “MY HOUDINT' & “GLEBE Dave: “With the first album most of the emphasis seemed to be on the rhythm, whereas on the second record, the songs seem to have much more melody. The first record was by’n’Iarge, songs got together in Canberra and the first year in Sydney, and in all that time, we didn’t have a keyboard player Ingrid joined 3 months before we did the recording and Angus and I ‘wrote’ the bulk of her keyboard lines in the sense that she’d play something and we’d say, ‘That sounds good, start with those first four notes and add a few on the end,’ and that was it. But this record (Glebe) was basically like the period from when we got the keyboard player ’til when we threw her out; the period of the past 12 months. We got to a stage setting disen chanted with Inqrid on a per sonal level and we were getting that way with the type of keyboards she played — Wagnerian stuff — whereas we wanted her to play very rhythmic piano. You can’t get the right sort of tension from a keyboard unless you’re pre­ pared to play it in a certain way.”

look like something that s happened overseas — they just can’t understand it.”

Dave: “Another thing I’ve noticed about Meibourne is that the bands act a lot more like ‘pop stars’ than they do in Sydney, even tho’ one could push Rob Younger into the room to contradict me. But then. I’d say he just acts like an individualist. . . . Like, I could see how the Birthday Party CONCERNING THAT could get away with treating everybody like shit in M el­ GENERAL TACTICS bourne.”

FEELING: Dave: “We wanted something which lots of people could O N PLA/ING WITH listen to and enjoy on different HUNTERS AND levels, like common experi­ COLLECTORS: ences rather than personal sub­ Bob: “They were quite friendly, jective ones like angst or de­ but they were all dressed up in pression. Songs that would talk their ‘new romantic’ clothes about things that everybody and it was a very ‘eye-make- could see, understand and re­ up-hair-set-done-before-going- late to, like ‘Centrepoint’ which on-stage’ kind o’thing, and I’m ‘belongs’ to everyone. It seems sure they looked at us and that this society spends ail its though, ‘Oh, Fuck!’.” time trying to turn people into Dave: “An ocker like Bob separate little vegetables, try­ finds this repellent, don’t you ing to neutralize their potential Bob!” and leave them angst-ridden Bob: “Well I mean, I walked in individuals.” with my blue ocker singlet on and they found that a bit hard to take. The whole attitude’s quite ridiculous. For us, it’s mainly O N LOVE AND L.A. the music, for them it’s mainly PSYCHODAELIA — THE the image.”

VELVET UNDERGROUND Dave: “I think it’s more the extent and the way they relate OF THE WEST COAST: to the audience. The way they Dave: “They seemed to get this adopt this arrogant posture juxtaposition of a lot of things. toward the audience. They’re On the one hand, they were trying to be ‘pop’ and on the just repressed Victorians.” other really ‘serious’. They tried to be very ‘heavy’, and they AND O N THE OLD were also like Burt Bacarach.

Love were this incredible mix­ MELBOURNE/ ture of styles. The originality SYDNEY came from the juxtaposition‘DIFFERENCES': ing. T h ey’d set off guitars Dave: “It seems there’s much against Tijauana brass, and I more of a class consciousness really like that Spanish thing. down here. In Sydney there’s It’s like, in L.A. you see Spanish much less of that, with people haciendas sitting in the middle being more into just getting of nowhere, and here you got cash, a much more ‘individual’ haciendas sitting in the middle feel about it----- Sydney bands of an A.V. Jennings estate. It’s tend to be more ‘flash y’, got a similar feel. There’s a lot whereas a lot of Melbourne of money and everybody lies bands seem to be more ‘intel­ back and enjoys themselves. lectual’. . . . One of the prob­ . . . In Australia, there’s always lems we had when we first this element of selfconscious­ arrived (In Sydney) was that it ness in what we do. Love took them a while to realize that reminded me a lot of what life’s they could in fact bang their like in the suburbs, where you heads to us if they wanted to. get these serious rows, but But then, that’s one of the done in a really farsical way. We problem s with the whole accept and reflect that, where rock’n’roll business. They just most Australian bands want to put things in categories; this is sound like the Velvets or some­ a ‘heavy metal’ band, this is a thing else that doesn’t really fit. ‘dance’ band, this is an ‘intel­ All we try and do is play exactly lectual’ band. Forget it!” how we are.”

The next slabs dig into bits of The interview folded around recent band history, exhuming 6.00 p.m. Gary, Agnus and I the spectre of Ingrid, the walked out into the Chapel St. keyboard player who was “gi­ throng intent on stuffing our­ ven the boot” just before the selves with ethnic goodies and beginning of this tour. For bet­ catching the Reels. There was a ter or worse, David is Tactic’s strong sort of kinship between dominating force, and the split the Reels, Tactics and the af­ against Ingrid began as a dif­ ternoon’s conversation, and by ference in mode of operation the way, Dave Mason and co. and escalated into an emo­ are running hotter than ever. tional conflict that had as much Tactic’s last night in Mel­ grounding in fact as in fiction. A bourne was marked by another point to keep in mind is that good reception (surprise, sur­ Tactics with keyboards de­ prise), this time without an veloped into a formidable crea­ uncharacteristic lack of subtle­ ture, and now. Tactics without ty. Either the ice walls are keyboards is an equally for­ beginning to thaw, or maybe midable force. A little less di­ the more discerning suburba­ versity maybe, but no less nites are catching on where the power.

Blitz kids missed the boat.

Notes From Southern Europe Newly Socialist France, newly socialist Greece — Italy and Spain in rebellion against NATO and the U.S. And just as the U.S.S.R.’s Eastern holding threatens to fission, so the U.S.A.’s Empire in the west goes the same way.

Larry Buttrose has just passed through the newly freed realms of Mitterand and Papadreau and the anti-nuke countries inbetween, and has sent back these vignettes.

I saw demos in Rome, demos in Spain.

Haig and Reagan can’t understand.

Funny, people in Southern Europe don’t want to be fried for Kentucky or Maine, or for a set of sums in the Pentagon.

What more is to be said? Europe is slowly breaking out. In Washington they’re gaming out “Fulda Gap” harder than ever.

(ED.’s NOTE: “Fulda Gap” is a com­ mercially available war game with a scenario of the outbreak of the next European War.)

“PAMPLONA: THE FIESTA GOES ON” The old hotel keeper’s face showed a pride that his response to my question belied. “ Yes, I met Hemingway,” he said. “ He was drunk at the time.”

A visit to Pamplona in Northern Spain is inevitably something more — it becomes almost a Hemingway tour.

The writer first visited the area in the twenties, as a young roving reporter. Being one devoted to outdoor activities such as hunting and trout fishing (some of his critics say he was an oppressor of both animals and women), he was immediately swept up in the July festival that makes Pamplona so famous — San Fermin and the running of the bulls.

This happens in the early mornings, at the start of the bullfighting season, when the bulls which will later be fought are let loose through the narrow streets of the old city, on their way to the bullring. Mainly young men (although some informants told us that a few women now run the bulls, and fight them too) test both their agility and their courage, by running in front of the huge stampeding bulls. It/s dangerous. The old hotel-keeper shook his head as he told us about this July. “ Many hurt,” he said. “And two dead.”

A s in Hemingway’s day, bullfighting remains a mystery for most people outside the latin world. People who tolerate hunting in England appear to draw the line at bullfighting, which they see as something more to do with hot sun and red wine than as an important vestige of an earthier way of life. In the Hollywood version, the bull would not die at the end of the fight. But the fact that the death comes at the climax of hours of ritual, parade, ceremonial and mass public excitement, means that it would not be real if the bull were spared. It is the real thing. You know that when you see the bull die.

There are of course many explanations for bullfighting.

Some simply see it as a manifestation of rampant masculinity, man versus his (minotaur) rival — especially in a Roman Catholic culture where so much concerning sexuality has been long suppressed. Other views have bullfighting as a more integral part of a bygone life — a link with the earth, its life and death.

Modern Spaniards are mindful of these kinds of explanations, especially in a Spain where the power of the Church is obviously in decline and women are becoming more assertive. But even young, educated Spaniards, who have analysed the things behind bullfighting, will still risk their lives running the bulls. In the post-Franco era, with bullfighting no longer simply linked to the old life and authoritarian socio-politics, bullfighting is becoming re­ spectable again for the young. And one hears again the oldest defence of the sport; if the bull is to be killed anyway, he may as well have the chance to die with some dignity.

T he July bullfighting is the major festival in Pamplona but it is by no means the only one. In fact the traveller in Spain could be forgiven for thinking that it is a country of non-stop festivals. During my visit to Pamplona, I encountered a number of small festivals during a brief period. After a trudge through the cool, narrow streets where the singing of caged canaries never stops, I had failed to witness what I had gone to see — a ‘junior’ running of the bulls. In this event, children dressed in the garb of the runners — white with a blood red scarf — were to run before small bulls.

Having failed to find it however, I returned to the main square, only to find a huge crush of people. It didn’t seem possible that they could have just appeared, so I began to ask among the crowd for an English speaker (a hard person to find in Spain). I evenually did get one, called Alfonso. He told me that the festivity was a bicycie demonstration, in favour of bicycle paths. The police, he said, had broken it up by pointing automatic weapons at the riders. As he spoke I spotted a concentration of the ubiquitous police and saw they were loading tear-gas canisters. Alfonso suggested we leave the square for the comparative safety of the maze of streets in the old city.

There we found yet another huge crowd, with bands and young people dancing in lines.

Alfonso then told me that the Basques were always having festivals because they were always on the streets. If the police broke up a demonstration, it became a festival, with everyone involved. He said the Basques hated the police, who were sent in from outside the region. He said that besides independence from Spain, the Basques were also against Spain staying in NATO (posters against it were everywhere), against nuclear weapons and power, and against the police. He said people of all ages were against the police, not just the young.

Later I attended a dinner with him and met his fellow activists. There I met political radicals who, in the summer, had run the bulls. “ Now that Franco is dead,” said one, “ I can run the bulls.”

Later I moved on from Hemingway territory to Orwell’s realm. Barcelona is one of the great cities of the world. Not only because of its cosmopolitan nature, its history and its architecture, but because of its smell. All great cities have a definable smell — Paris, Rome, even London. Barcelona’s smell is a brew of sewage and seaweed, which the visitor eventually finds is not too unpleasant.

Barcelona was a famous stronghold of the radicals in the Republic of 1936-38. Orwell wrote of his experiences here as a volunteer fighting on the republican side, (he was a member of the International Brigade.) Like Pamplona, Barcelona bursts with life. And like Pamplona it seems to burn with a political fervour. One man I spoke to assured me that Barcelona’s province, Catalonia, is not part of Spain. It is a separate nation, as is the Basque country, Andalusia in the south and Galicia in the west. The Catalan activists have produced a revised map of the Iberian

peninsula with these ‘nations’ taking large bites from ‘Spain’.

Again the evidence of the strength of support is apparent. Catalan supporters drape the multi red and yellow striped flags from their balconies, the posters are everywhere (along with anti-NATO posters.) In fact, such is the level of graffiti, posters and general political activity that one couldn’t help being reminded of the opening passage of Orwell’s ‘Homage To Catalonia’ and his entry into Barcelona during the Spanish war.

Yet one is also reminded of another book, Hemingway’s “ For Whom The Bell Tolls” , and the sad fate of the guerrillas (and the Republican cause.) My Barcelona informant shook his head as^he talked about the Guardia Civile’s attempted coup of earlier this year. “ Yes, I think it will come again. They will try again.”

If so, then the liberalisation and all it has meant to present day Spain, will die again, and democracy will fall again — as predictably and as sadly as the bull at the sword.

ITALY — SHADDAP YOU FACE O u r musical tour of Italy started in Venice. We had come by train from Barcelona and had been en route for 20 hours. We had taken a connecting train in Milan at 1 a.m., so that we would arrive in Venice at dawn. And so we did.

We took the water bus up the Grand Canal, and as the sun rose in a resplendent flare of red and gold across the lagoon, we sighted the tower of San Marco. We alighted and were making our way along the quay, serenaded by the lapping of the waves against it, when a different sound reached our ears. Brash and raucous, it took some time to identify the source of this music . .. but eventually it was traced to the radio/cassette of a timbered watertaxi.. . and it was AC/DC, “ Highway To Hell” , blasting across the lagoon at 200 db. The Venetian Empire had fallen again — this time to headbangers from Australia!

I visited the city of Siena, renowned for its mediaeval beauty, its narrow streets, its strongly pre-renaissance character. I heard a familiar tune, and turned to see an old man pursing his lips in a whistle. A week later I found “ Shaddap You Face” on a juke box in Bologna, and as played it, everyone in the cafe tapped their feet & whistled along.

I found Joe’s contribution to world culture in many other great Italian cities, and played it in each. Italians I met understood it and thought it very funny.

Our musical tour of Italy ended in the south, in the ruins of a farm outside Taranto. We played a cassette of Jo Jo Zep to a guitarist from a Euro-pop band. He liked it. The hashed-over skeleton of reggae had done almost the full circuit. Across the Med. lay Africa, and every night it blew the sirocco over us.

In the shower with a wet soapy bundle. Outside the door Chic’s ‘Good Times’ pounds away at the lounge room dance floor prancin’ and romancin’ like it always has. Time to lift off and think of today’s fare. Wait; too late for thinking, gotta get a move on.

It’s down through the summer hot bluster of a scorching Melbourne day.

Ripples of heat haze and even through my white lin­ ens the sweat droplets are running down my spine.

Then into an 80 metre dash to catch the train and a sweat twice the size of the flood I was already en­ veloped in.

Time to change jocks; som ething’s wet myself.

This ain’t Garden City, this is Sauna City.

At last, into the cool calm­ ness of a balmy record hype session. The story thus un­ folds . . .

First things first. The Modeis iook iike they sound; nowadays anyway, what with the two new recruits adding a seedy, rauc­ ous air of rock’n’roli to the band not to mention a hefty chunk of image for the inner city glam scene to latch onto. John Rowel on guitar (ex Chemicals original member and various seminal Sydney punk pioneers) and Graeme Scott on drums (ex high school marching band) are a pinch of pepper to a ripe red tomato. They add the bite, the accessibility, the garnish to the tang of the live image. Let’s get going. Who’s next?

The three old boys of course.

You should ail know them by now but thanks to some people’s preconceptions about what makes viable chart music and what doesn’t they haven’t held the Oz pop lim elight th e y ’ve proven themselves rightful heirs to. Heirs is wrong actually; they’re smart and in­ dividual enough to create and fill their own new slice of the market.

Sean Kelly growls and guitars; Andrew Duffield synthesises as well as vocaliz­ ing occasionally; and Mark Ferrie basses, leers and does gen­ erally unacceptable things of a mystical nature with cans of beer and rastafarians. It’s the last two I cross tongues with down at the previously men­ tioned breezy centre of Mel­ bourne’s rock hype whirlyworld.

The Models idea of music.

Nice Lines and funny textures — going everywhere but rarely losing sight of the notion that to tie things up in a neat package is a matter of course if the ideas are to be cohesive and com­ municative.

Of course this wasn’t so much the case on ‘Cut Lunch’. It was extended from studio demos based on jams and tossing in fragments here and there. It was fun! A break from the religion. Don’t be fanatic!

Loosen up and dance honey.

The first album (silly title — let’s go!) and the newie (‘Local &/or General’ — sing and celeb­ rate) were made with the idea of creating a whole. Each song separate and full yet creating a picture composed of different (even erratically opposite) im­ ages and emphasis.

‘Local’ is an album of vari­ ously emphatic songs with enough thread running bet­ ween them to make people accept it as a single concept, as it were. So maybe ‘Telstar’ on its own is a bit of dross; but consider it as something of an added pastel to a painting of stunning colours and irides­ cent splashes — it balances things out, adds a vital hue to the record. It’s something to exercise the Models right of doing the occasional wayward trip. It’s less than a minute in length. It’s danceable.

Still no? Oh, well I tried. Get off my back and move on down the song list.

Interviewing Mark and An­ drew was a scream and a fascination. Tales of delight ancf^put-downs and eoroments^.

40 WdaSfWher

‘DOING THE PERVERTED POP HOP’

Craig N. Pearce gets into Modelling

on favourite music and other­ wise personalities spiced our conversation putting everyone at ease and in a mood for revealing the most terribly unrevealable things. The day was hot, so was our talk. Fiery enthusiasm abounded. Not jaded these pop stars.

The show the same night wowed the normally staid white drips on money at the Grainstore Tavern with a blis­ teringly hot handful of bass bombshells and humorous asides. Clothes got wet, and smelt too. I was aglow. An­ drews says they’re not really a dance band.

Is he nuts? W hat’s this breathlessness I’m suffering .^rom . tmmedialeiy. after. Ih e .

ravenous rhythm of ‘Atlantic Romantic’ dies down? If this ain’t music for movement then I’m a monkey’s uncle.

To be sure, there is more to this modelling music than dance instigation. It’s a brand of firm quality sound that stands, along with its creators, with proud stature and a con­ certed conscience of innova­ tion and understanding of the structures it’s working within and on as being music to listen to; evaluate; glean worth, in­ terest and knowledge from and then, if you’re smart enough, utilize it in your own personal manner.

It’s your world but their con­ tribution. Inject it don’t sup-

This sound is an investment into your outlook. I’ve accepted it so there’s no reason why you can’t. There is surely one part of your life or your attitudes that Modelling music can invest something into.

Mixed and matched — the five (though at the moment its still really the primary three that have control of the artistic direction) have enough points in common to form a sound and image of acceptable digestible proportions yet could seem­ ingly never arrive at the posi­ tion where every band membe­ r’s views would fail exactly in line and in common; thus safely perpetuating the role that the Models’ sound plays.

It’s individual and detached from most, sure. But it is also detached internally. Various strands of thoughts run through individual songs, creating a scrapbook-effect of influence, jargon and pattern. It is the Models maturity and intelligent sense of vision which pulls the strands to­ gether, creating a fibre of nuance, texture and solidarity.

Do you find you have to dilute or temper your original work for it to be suitable for general consumption?

Mark: “I think that’s some­ thing that happens in the make up of the band because we all have different . . . aesthetics if you like. Therefore something which will please all of us has to be generally acceptable, it has to cover a lot of bases.”

Andrew: ‘‘That’s true I sup­ pose. You’ve got to please all of us and if you succeed at that then it must be good on diffe­ rent levels.” ‘‘Yeah, I like that Mark”.

Mark: “Thanks” . (Isn’t this cute?)

If the Models didn’t have this manner of working together and producing material they wouldn’t be the Models. They’d be dummies! Their method of working together is an adapta­ tion of the way their per­ sonalities, desires and his­ tories make them fit together.

You can’t expect an ex-middle class punk, an ex avante garde musical theorist and an ex rockabilly roadm arker (you guess who — I’m not saying cos’ if you care you know and if you don’t it doesn’t matter) to come together in a normal fashion and work together in a normal method.

NORMAL! This is the Modeis!

What do you want? Icehouse?

(God help you if you do. Their art was only ever a momentary freezing of other people’s trium phs — and now even that’s melted away).

The diverging/converging of ideas, aims, idiosyncracies and different areas they’re coming from and going to is the most engaging part of the band.

Andrew: “Yeah!”

And that is now being recog­ nized by the public as an image which they’ll take hold of, ac­ cept and relate to, and therefore sell the band, it’s been like the people who have been trying to sell the band have continually said that eventually the band will go straight. But that’s a waste of words because they won’t — In the accepted sense, that is.

Andrew: “That sort of thing you’re talking about has be­ come apparent to us too, I think, after doing this album and feeling happy with it for a change. That is the sort of thing we’ll follow”.

So ‘Local’ is the favourite, huh?

“I just think It’s the most right thing we’ve done. I think it sounds the best on radio. I wouldn’t say it’s the best thing we’ll ever do by any means, though”.

Mark: “It’s the one that I feel, personally, I don’t have to make excuses about. I don’t mind saying to people, ‘yeah, I like it’.

We didn’t release a single off AlphaBravo ’cause we didn’t want to make a big deal out of it y’know”.

Andrew: “We didn’t want to push the band in any one direction by the release of a single song. If we’d done that we would’ve set a style or standard. That’s not a cop out The band is really stylized in a lot of ways. It’s not that vague a direction. T h ere’s a style there”.

‘Cut Lunch’ probably broke the ground that enables you to release a single and not be compartmentalized.

Andrew: “Yeah, I think so. It did work to that end. The film clip probably helped too with all those different bits”.

The unsaleability is the pre­ mise on which sales progress will be made. Proving the old Oz rock pundits wrong. When will they ever learn?

‘Local’ is the straightest thing I’ve ever hear the band record.

Andrew: “ Yeah. Definitely.

That’s what we yifeje ,trying- to

do. In a lot of ways it’s got the same kind of bits of light and shade and change in it that AlphaBravo hinted at but never really got for some reason or another. Possibly because of the production or because of our inexperience in the studio. I reckon ‘Local &lor General’ is the same album with different songs and is a generally more cohesive record. We feel it is the first record that has gelled.

Each song is relevant to one another”.

“We think a song like ‘Un­ happy’ complements a song like ‘Local &lor General’.

“The band could be all Sean Kelly compositions but Mark and I don’t really want it that way and Sean enjoys the differ­ ence too. It’s been our biggest failing (in the marketeer’s and blinkered public’s eyes only) that we’ve not been able to be seen from one point of view”. if people could, and it looks like they’re beginning to, ac­ cept and utilize the Models for what they are and not what they want them to be then everyone would eventually be a lot hap­ pier. Who wants homogenous pop anyway? Probably too many.

Mark: “You’ve got to accept that the band has a basic kind of premise or way of working”.

‘Local’ differs from the ‘Cut Lunch’ EP in that the latter was an exploration, there was no unified concept. All the songs excepting ‘Atlantic Romantic’ came together in the studio and were meant more for artistic proliferation and satisfaction than com m ercial viability.

Things changed. Molly caught the infectious Model glint of wonder in his eye and was impressed whenever he hap­ pened across them in the studio. “is this really the way you guys work? WOW!” So the thing built — and sold.

A hit!

When in London re-recording two tracks for the British album Barbra Streisand sent a couple of bottles of champagne into the studio for a bribe as she wanted access to it! The pro­ ducer for those sessions, Steve Brown, used to buy a new porn mag every day before the ses­ sion started and began to browse through it in the control room whenever the band began to bore him.

The producer for ‘Local’ was Steve Taylor, an ex-Oxford choir boy vegetarian. This heat!

These stories!

Andrew: “This last album was done under really different conditions out in the English countryside where we were fed to the eyeballs. These chefs would come in and feed us then we’d walk back to the studio and just be unable to do a thing.

“We were in there for five weeks. Now that was a real different situation for the band.

We’d never had a lock out on the studio where it was all ours before. We thought it was going to be great but it was really, really difficult.

“It wasn’t nearly as exciting because it was all available to us, if that makes any sense. We couldn’t wait to get out of the place”.

The pressure of being re­ laxed.

Mark: “ It was so claus­ trophobic. There was nowhere to go. Like it was two hours to London (a piss in the ocean in this country, mate!) then you couldn’t get back” .

Andrew: “ We drove each other crazy so we used to invite all these people out like The Birthday Party, girlfriends, these Rastafarians we met, and New Zealanders and Scots and god knows whoever we picked up as acquaintances in Lon­ don. They used to come out and make these parties to keep our vibe happening. Otherwise we would’ve killed each other I’m sure”.

Mark: “We were looking at a total thing all along. Whereas ‘Cut Lunch’ was just a bunch of songs we’d recorded. All the way along we were trying to think of how to fit it together.

We recorded or started work on a lot more songs than actually ended up on the album”.

One song, Andrew said, which was recorded was held back at the last minute even though everyone thought it sounded great. Sean withdrew his approval because of the lyrics. Andrew said they might have shed a little light on ‘Sean Kelly — the enigma’ which Sean felt a little uneasy about.

Good. Inject more mystery.

The best pop is shrouded in personal contemplation and dawning fascinations. No strictly sketched pop figure is an endearing pop figure.

Both Andrew and Mark ex­ pressed adm iration and re­ spect for Steve Taylor — the fastest mixer they’ve ever come across. And he didn’t eat meat which left more for the gluttons.

Tony Cohen, who co­ produced with the barid most of

‘Cut Lunch’ as well as working with the band on other occa­ sions, is another producer whom the band has reaped rewards from. Andrew and I are both amazed at his ingenuity and success on ‘Prayers on Fire’.

Andrew: “I think we needed a break from Tony and Tony from us, actually. We needed to tone down a little bit from ‘Cut Lunch’ and ‘AlphaBravo’ and piss off all the periphery kind of things and get it down to a basic format. We worked on the premise of millions of overdubs then piss them off at the end.”

“You see I wanted to, and this pertains to me specifically, cut back the keyboards to a more practical level. Almost to the level where I could play them live”.

The band played about eight times in London of which one gig made them money — and that was the party which they held to send themselves off!

BACK TO OZ AND THE MODELLED MANIFESTO When the band began to hit the public eye a couple of years ago there was a remarkably strong sense of ethics con­ tained in the band’s methods of achieving things, which to their admirers had the air of quash­ ing any music industry pander­ ing or fanatical sycophancy which most bands are sub­ jected to and genially per­ petuate.

Every decision made by the band went through the process of finding the right blend of ingredients to satisfy every m em bers’ opinions.

The routine became a staid one and held the band back more often than it seemed to push them along. The tension led to a damming of vision and creativ­ ity and eventually the band broke up, only to reform when realizing they could work to­ gether with a little more pati­ ence and a more lenient out­ look on the system in which the band was working.

The stiffness in dealing with decisions and the outside world seems to be hardly pre­ sent anymore.

Andrew: “I think its changed

because we finally got the re­ cord that everyone does and had an equal part in it. That’s made the difference, that everyone’s pleased with it. We finally managed to conquer that thing we were looking for.”

Do you feel as though you’ve had to compromise your artis­ tic vision from your origins?

Mark: “I don’t think we ever had an artistic vision. We just kind of work together, evolve and do things. There’s never been a point in the distance we’ve been striving for”.

Andrew: “I’ve found it dif­ ficult. Like, I’m interested in graphics and trying to set up a unified look for the band has been difficult. Even the name.

Models, is hard to visualize. It hasn’t got a specific picture to it which I find very hard to resolve in a visual kind of way.

“We all look really different from each other and so we are.

We come from different musi­ cal areas but we’re a band. Our job is to make that work. I think it’s an interesting concept. I can’t think of any band that has used it and succeeded very well”.

Models’ music is, apparently, a solidly stated sound. Occa­ sionally dribs and drabs of various musical spheres may be visible in the collage but basically it’s a sound devoid of derivation. On its own it’s an inspiration and a brand new education. There’s no need to refer to the records for or make excuses for something you feel that is lacking. Andrew might make token gestures to heroes or mentors in the songs but there’s nothing religious about it.

They’re a cure! A nifty code to m usically fragile convales­ cents! Medicene-mercurial in effect and atomic in accelera­ tion. Spiteful to the pomp and pleasant to the poor. Obey an urge and walk down the ramp.

Guess what? You’re modelling!

Models began as a commer­ cial enterprise to reap revenge on a system that had brutalized them. Of the original gang only Sean remains. Both Andrew and Mark joined not long after the band’s inception. The re­ wards are beginning to be reaped.

Andrew: “When I joined the band I had to play what the band had been playing. I couldn’t really inject very much into it. When people come and go like Buster and Johnny you have to reevaluate all the time where you stand. Like, we’re a

different line up now and that demands thought too.

“It’s a healthy thing. Keeps you on the ball.

“After we finish a record I always hate it. And after this one I really hated it and was very unhappy with it. Because I had specific ideas about the whole album being recorded in England in this studio which has been used by these people and so on and I really expected us to produce this definitive record.

“It was then pointed out to me what a lot of shit that was. It is only on hindsight you can have a definitive record. Those tracks on the album are just representative of those five weeks in England. Now we just move on.

“I suppose the last album is as best we can be seen at the moment.”

At least for the next six months.

The image and selling style has long been and still is a major point of contention bet­ ween Mushroom and individual band members, each with their own opinions. Models battled for their right to artistic free­ dom and control and probably wouldn’t forsake it for the world but, as Andrew pointed out, even though it sounds nice it isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be.

Models have an agreement with Mushroom that says no promotion or artwork is done without the bands approval which, in this case, has been detrimental to the LP’s sales as the band simply hasn’t had time to organize artwork for posters, displays etc. Freedom’s great but the money must be earnt to perpetuate the contract that features the wonderful clause recognizing that right.

A vicious circle. But it’s an art form that has certain limita­ tions which must be worked within and capitalized on. This is not to say all things operating in this form are going to create art, mind. Quite the opposite.

Some are flat out coming to grips with the craft that takes them to the stage of creating infinite, and conversely achiev­ ing it with humility and simplic ity, beauty of truly ARTistic proportions.

Mark recognizes this to an extent and it is the actual process, or the work, which he enjoys. Goals are there and happily achieved but it is the method of gaining that goat which he takes pleasure in mastering.

Roadrunner 41

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Andrew has his finger on the pulse and direction of the new Models. With a four piece, he states, everything is quite separate and fragile. The new five piece line up has added the necessary strength and certain quality to the sound that is exuded from the recent LP. By luck or by sense the implemen­ tation of a second guitarist has been a profitable move.

Is the inclusion of Graeme and John a permanent move?

Mark: “Depends on who you talk to”.

Andrew: “I don’t know. It’s a difficult thing. We’li probably go and disillusion everybody and freak Mushroom out by changing again when we’ve just set a precedent. “ People don’t like changes in bands. It’s never worked effi­ ciently in any band that I can think of. The Stones have never been forgiven for getting rid of Mick Taylor. But we’ve got to change that base so it doesn’t matter” .

Mark: “We’re constantly tak­ ing the band back to day one”.

Anything healthier in regards to virtually any creative pro­ cess one is, unlikely to hear.

New blood. New life. New perspective. Growth — extend­ ing and encapsulating. Models keep their vehicles streamlined in design too, so there’s little chance of them trying to achieve too much in a single song. That’s why they’re di­ verse. More ideas and more desires give rein to a greater variety of sounds and in turn ask for a broader mind in appreciating them.

The best masters of creating make their audiences work to understand, appreciate, and come to grips with them. No pap here, pops.

Live, things are going to get a lot more exciting and risky for the Models as this new line up consolidates and becomes aware of each others strengths and weaknesses. Andrew is feeling a lot more at home with Graeme’s drums now and has gently started to stretch out and alter things to the feel of the night. The tightening of the sound is, abstractly, allowing for there to be more space around the place, more room for displacement of emphasis.

A new, raw specialization in technique and its abberrations giving birth to an edging on soul tinged translation of the lucid Models’ sound.

There are certain quirky little things in the Models’ (espe­ cially recorded) sounds that the band invest in all their work to keep themselves amused and which hopefully, Mark says, let people in on the whole process of making albums and playing live. A lot of it is tongue in cheek humour of which the Models have no short supply. Check Sean’s hand movements on the line, ‘hand on handle’ — that ain’t no mike stand he’s strok­ ing.

What were we on about — revamping stuff, different in­ puts and environments regard­ ing its interpretation?

Mark: “Even though there’s songs on the album we’ve been playing live we have to reap­ praise them in the studios again. It’s a different medium in the studio. What sounds great on stage can be played identi­ cally in the studio and sound shithouse. So you have to take everything right back down to the basics and build it up.

“That’s why a lot of our very early repertoire never got re­ corded, They were enshrined as live songs. Because we were producing ourselves it was in­ credibly hard to be objective and make them into recorded songs.”

Generally, the band isn’t into explaining their lyrics, most of which are written by Sean, though they feel there is a deal more substance and perti­ nence to reality than most would seem to think.

Andrew: “I think we explain ourselves better through our music”.

Fine. Let’s dance.

Mark: “Our album isn’t a dance album. It’s a numbing album — sort of like anaesthe­ tic”.

Huh? No, it isn’t a misquote.

It’s just that Mark can’t dance whilst holding his bass and that’s the only time he hears the songs. PLUS, he can’t see past the edge of the stage to the bobbing heads below because of the lights.

Weil . . . none of that’s actu­ ally true. I’m just making ex­ cuses for the lad. He had drunk two beers by this time, mind.

There is a possibility that the Models will become more than simply a group of people creat­ ing music as their single mode of output.

Andrew: “I want to do things in other areas. I think the band will too”.

Andrew has been given the assignment, by the band, of getting together the filmclip for No 1 single, ‘Local &lor Gener­ al’, as a result of the band taking the stance that too many opinions would be destructive rather than constructive. It’s to be an animated clip featuring less than pleasant shots culled from medical journals. Andrew is quite excited by the mission and after our talk before the band’s gig that night he’s off to do some editing. “ We’ll hopefully diversify.

Another film clip will b^ done for ‘Unhappy’ which will be different again. Like, I want to create a situation whereby mak­ ing visual opposites they can relate to one and other. Rather than appearing in the same clothes you try and make things as different as possible but still similar.

“Which is what the band is about”.

In his clips Andrew insists on the visuals complementing the music, not dominating it. Talk­ ing about Kraftwerk he even alludes to the possibility of utilizing videos to augment the music in a live capacity.

“Visuals which don’t neces­ sarily answer to the music, don’t make people listen to parts of a song that you want them to listen to. They just provide a kind of visual diar­ rhoea of ideas. Something quiet in the background — ambient visuals.”

More input, more ideas. You can’t contain these lads. Flash and tacky and sweet and sour, for you and me.

The Models certainly aren’t the most playful kittens the music industry has had to con­ tend with. More often than not they’ve seemed to have been clawing at the business’s back then purring in its arms.

Mark: “I don’t know whether we’ve learnt much from the industry. Hopefully th e y ’ve learnt something from us. The fuckin’ industry is a lot of

bullshit I reckon. I tike to think we’re where we are ’cause we’re doing it our own way.

We’ve learnt to co-exist with them without turning into Jimmy and the Boys or some­ thing.”.

Andrew: “You always have to work with other people so you just have to work with them to your advantage. Trying to be­ friend people that will be help­ ful to you — people in the art departm ent and things like that”.

Ho, ho, ho and a can of record company beer.

Andrew laughs off all the mistakes they’ve made over the years, and now seems to have come out with a pretty clear understanding of all the rituals, processes and m an-eating soul-sellers of the industry as well as having an acute under­ standing of the band’s de­ velopment and the fame and achievements that have come with it.

Andrew: “I think it’s just weird when you reach those plateaus of first record, first major support spot, going to England etc. It’s sometimes difficult to think where you’re going next but you seem to be able to create goals to move onto. You’ve got to. “ It’s no big deal when you do it. It’s a pretty sobering un-pop star like thing to say, I know.”

Mark: “Yeah, I know. I came back from England and I met these guys around the place that when I was a kid I looked up to. I really liked their bands and stuff like that. And now I ’ve been to England and put out a couple of records — more than they’ve done”.

Andrew: “It’s like if you’ve ever had heroes in your life and you’re on the same level. You think ‘what’s next?’. Then you find out those other people are real too — the same fears, likes and dislikes”.

In my experience I’ve found the best, the most stimulating music being perform ed by some of the most sensible people grappling with reasons for creating and the effects resulting from that creating.

Models are no exception.

Inside the minds of the Mod­ els run streams of thought containing persuasive echoes of emotions, absurdities and observations. Their form is not relaxed — it will not ease its method nor its articulation.

ModelART requires a level of hope and belief in its substance for it to take its target. A soul job and a bold job. Folded, creased. Imperfect. Egotistical and attention seeking; it’s quite rude and very naughtily brutal in parts.

Sometimes its soft, sure, but don’t get your hopes up for that shaft of sentim entality that most groups of age seem to make (I’m sure they only do it to make them selves look like idiots.) W hether or not the Models are ageing is doubtful anyway. Even musical maturity seems right off beam.

They are too open to new injections of vital quality and unknown breadth to ever really narrow it down enough for one to term them ‘mature’.

Bit of a joke, really.

But that’s the only joke in an otherwise erudite selection of virtues. Pinnacles have come and gone. Models have easily enough strength to keep on climbing. And the heavier the backpack the stronger they’ll be striding out.

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Roadrunner 45

Depeche Mode Elvis Costello : ‘The Honky Tonk D e m ^ (Compact) A real under the counter job this one, but it’s so good I felt I had to bring it to your attention. ‘Honky Tonk’ was the name of a radio show on Radio London hosted by one Charlie Gillett, a man of perceptive taste who is generally given credit for discovering Dire Straits and Graham Parker, and on the evidence of these six songs. Declan Patrick McManus.

Yes, six songs with the voice backed only with guitar, and the whole thing sounding more like John Sebastian than anything else.

Except the lyrics which are pure Costello. ‘Lip Service’, ‘Blame It On Cain’ and ‘Mystery Dance’ are mainly recognisable from their postdiluvean forms. But the fascination is in hearing the raw, unrefined,- unprocessed Costello. Direct, simple and biting these are skeletons in the closet of the nicest kind (tho’ whether Costello would agree is open to doubt.) It’s easy to see in the light of these, where his latest album came from.

The three unknown songs, ‘Wave A White Flag’, ‘Jump Up’ and ‘Poison Moon’ are up to Costello’s usual standard of excellence.

A raw gem from the archives. Peerless beauty.

Laurie Anderson : ‘O Superman’ (WEA) Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah O Superman! The artistic artifact that became a pop icon.

Sparse, yes, minimal, yes, evocative, defin­ itely, hypnotic, mmmmmm. An oblique col­ lage (show me any other kind!-) of tones and statements that is as though provoking as it is pleasant. Become an art collector today! It could be the start of something beautiful.

Doll By D o ll: Caritas (Magnet) From the album of the year in my book, this is just one slice of perplexing celebration that is so removed from the general run of things that I am reduced to sheer wonder. It moves and it moves me.

i ’l:

Cold C hisel: ‘You Got Nothing I Need’ (WEA) A Jimmy Barnes foot-stomping throatabuser of classic proportions with a big raw sweaty live sound. Quintessential Chisel. »' V -■

S W E A T IN B U L L E T

The Riptides : ‘Only Time’ (Regular) Rough hewn blocks of sound with echoing spaces characterise this opening gambit in the big league from ex-Brisbanites, the Riptides. Busy, a bit like the stylised stormy sea depicted on the cover, but not chaotic enough to be startling, and too busy to be charming. Still worth a couple of listens though (and I haven’t seen them live which would probably be important.)

Tom Tom Club : ‘Wordy Rappinghood’ Chris’n’Tina having fun in the Caribbean with words, strong rh^hms and synthesizers and sisterly choruses. Quite delightful.

S IM P L E M IN D S

SINGLES

Pig bag : ‘Papa’s Got A Brand New Pigbag’ (GAP) Polyrh;^hms provide the snaky safety net for the brass aerobatics on display in this cheerful, toe tapping outburst of joyous feelings. Tribal? Yes, I suppose so, but without too many of the fashion overtones — instrumental and thus universal. Danceable?

You bet!

Mental As Anything : ‘Berserk Warriors’ (Regular) A song with tongue very firmly in cheek but still possessed of genuine melancholy and Nordic wistfulness. ‘Vikings shouldn’t mix their work and play’, the Mentals say. Well it certainly hasn’t done them any harm, has it?

Bjorn and Anna should be flattered that young Peter has penned them such a touching tribute. I haven’t enjoyed a Mental’s song so much for ages.

Redgum : ‘100 Years On’(Epic) John Schumann’s attempt at updating!

‘Waltzing Matilda’. There’s bite in the lyrics; one line in particular, ‘It was just another kerbside interview’, is priceless. But the update could have been extended to the musical arrangement to give the whole thing more clout. It comes over as brash, and harsh, where it could have been very powerful. Fortunately for Redgum the rest of ‘Brown Rice and Kerosene’ is completely the opposite — with production quite stunning.

Simple Minds: ‘Sweat And Bullet’ (Virgin) Four tracks — two studio and two live at the Hammersmith Odeon this September, (with Icehouse supporting.) All are superb examples of Simple Minds’ patented brand of smouldering Caledonian funk — dance music for the head (trance dance) hands (hi!

Jim) and feet. If you’re still making your mind up about the album, this is a very tasty hors d’oeuvre. My nod leans slightly to the live side, vivid memories of Apollo Stadium nudging my tastometer no doubt. But it’s all good stuff — and remember, you’re only Scottish once!

Depeche Mode : ‘Dreaming Of Me’ (Mute) Lightweight Keyboard pop, the sort of stuff the Brits are going apeshit over at the moment. I can’t really see what all the fuss is about myself. This is pleasant enough but hardly startling.

Bim : ‘Romance’ (WEA) Same sort of thing, but possessed of a vim and vigour that is lacking in dreary Depeche.

Maybe it’s the real drummer. Actually it’s sort of like the Members go Human League.

Linx : ‘So This Is Romance’ (Chrysalis) If you like your soul with two sugars then this one will tempt your tastebuds. Loping beat, a plethora of pianos, rinky dink guitar, trumpet, mass voices etc. etc. darting in and out and over the smooth vocals. Stylish (a bit too . . .)

The Bent Elbows : ‘St Lucia Rd. E.P.’ (E.M.I. Custom) Brisbane independent — and likely to stay that way. Recording quality is terrible, but even that doesn’t quite endear them. Four songs, from the appalling Country Radio style, ‘Scoring Sugar’ to the quite appealing ‘Chip on the Shoulder, Boy’. Could be an interesting live proposition, but fans only need investigate this.

Max Staples and the Paperclips : ‘Not Working’ (Office Records) Sorta semi-dub,: semi social comment, semi pissing about. A certain amateurish charm, but that’s about all.

The Noise ; ‘Think About Tomorrow, Tomorrow’ (Think) The ex-Adelaide Distressed Innocents turn up with a new name and a couple of pretty old songs, which I must say haven’t lost any of their spark over the past eighteen months. ‘Think About Tomorrow, Tomorrow’ is still a stuttering pub beat classic with a great hook and nifty harmonies. ‘Rat Race’ still powers along in a great rush. Suzy Ramone used to flog these to death on 5MMM, and she’s not usually wrong. Find out if you are.

S. W.9 : Love Is Essential’ (GAP) It had to happen sooner or later — synthesizers and acoustic guitars. I’m just glad that S.W.9, who on the evidence of this are people of taste and discretion, are in there early. I like this a lot, in spite of a few raggedy edges.

Madness : ‘Shut Up’ (Stiff) A silly song, not quite as wonderfully silly as ‘Baggy Trousers’, but quite a little cracker nonetheless. It’s a criminal shame that Madness haven’t a real hit single in this country (Royal Commission! Royal Commis­ sion!) but where the supremely catchy aforementioned ‘B.T.’s’ and the awesome ‘Grey Day’ have failed, I can’t really see this one doing the trick. Go on, prove me wrong! I won’t mind.

Ward 13 : ‘Slow Dancer’ (EMI) Latiny feel over a straight rock beat which considering the incredible experimentation going on in swing/salsa at the moment comes over as pretty boring. Loosen up boys!

Fast Cars ; ‘Annual E.P.’ (Method Records) Taut music for inner city moderns. The sparseness, almost clinical, of the arrange­ ments indicates a grasping at aestheticism, a grasping that succeeds on the three vocal tracks due to Diannah Levy’s clean precise little voice, but degenerates into arty waffle on ‘Andy’s Cat’s Religious Experience’. A disciplined base to broaden from — Fast Cars bear watching.

Dead Kennedy’s : ‘In God We Trust’ (Statik) More audio graffiti from the poison pen and 'vengeful vocal chords of Jello Biafra and Co. They really excel themselves this time with the one minute, three second triple amphetimine rush of ‘Nazi Punks Fuck O ff and the short sharp jabs to America’s groin — ‘Religious Vomit’, ‘Moral Majority’, ‘Hyperac­ tive Child’ and ‘Keypone Factory’. But the killer punch is a reworking of the classic ‘California Uber Alles’, renamed ‘We’ve Got A Bigger Problem Now’ and aimed at Reagan rather than California Governor Jerry Brown.

Check this; “ You’ll go quietly to boot camp They’ll shoot you dead, make you a man Don’t you worry, it’s for a cause Feeling global corporations claws.’’

And that’s just an example of the superb lyrics that pepper the whole album (fortu­ nately they’re printed on the back sleeve).

And for a bit of light relief, they do a souped up version of the theme from ‘Rawhide’ straight after.

The Dead Kennedy’s are confronting America from the heart of the beast. Their courage is commendable, their analysis is accurate.

Donald Robertson

UP AND DOWN WITH THE ROLLING STONES

by Tony Sanchez (Wild & Woolley) Some people, and this may well include Keith Richards and Mick dagger, would call the author, Tony Sanchez, a fink. He has, here, profited from a fiduciary relationship (that is, I believe, the legal jargon). As much as I am a great fan of the Stones this book is essential reading if you wish to come to terms with what really drives the upper class of the rock and roll industry. And unlike a great deal of factual essays Sanchez makes no attempt to disguise his opinions.

Tony Sanchez was Keith Richards’ per­ sonal secretary from 1968 to 1976. This effectively meant that he was responsible for acquiring the drugs to support Keith’s and his common law wife Anita Pallenberg’s habit.

Sanchez, it would seem, was also a very close personal friend of the Richards’ and thus it wasn’t surprising to discover that he was as much an addict as they were.

Sanchez in this book reveals, in an awesome amount of very believable detail, life within the inner circle of The Rolling Stones. As the back cover states “ no one is spared . . . not even the author” in this documentary that traces the very early days of the group, through the destruction of the “ musician” Brian Jones and later the depar­ ture of Mick Taylor (an equally, if not more, capable musician than Jones).

The author quite unequivocally lays the blame for Jones’ demise on the shoulders of dagger and Richards and their own selfish desire to dominate the band that Jones had in fact started and named (after a song by his hero Muddy Waters). Although Sanchez does concede that dagger and Richards probably didn’t plan to overthrow Jones he noticeably finds it hard to fathom their uncontrollable greed.

Sanchez’s writing is by no means of the highest standards. At best it is entertaining to the extent that it sustains the interest of a fan (such as myself) who is keen to discover what motivates the Rolling Stones. (Incidently, Charlie Watts and Bill Wyman rarely rate a mention in the book for the simple reason that they were, and to this day are, not as outrageous as the others, ironically the much publicised pissing on the garage wall incident of the early sixties which DID involve Wyman, Sanchez claims was more out of necessity (the garage attendant refused to let them use the toilet) than any conscious attempt to cross the paths of authority.) At its worst, and this I might say was restricted mostly to a chapter midway through the book where Sanchez, attempting to highlight the Jagger/Richards fascination with the occult, loses the readers attention altogether. I suggest you refrain from reading Chapter 14 as in addition to being clearly out of place in the chain of events that the author had up until this time quite capably pieced together, it completely upsets the momentum created which is the main attraction of Sanchez’s writing. Notwithstanding the odd predictable statement and unwarranted autobiographi­ cal paragraph, Sanchez has the ability to keep the readers attention through some incredibly detailed accounts of sheer mad­ ness within the Stones’ camp.

Sanchez can be excused for the small treks into the sordid aspects of his own habits for the sole reason that ostensibly his role D a v id B o w ie B ia c k B o o k , M e rs ey b e a t, Th e C la sh , The P re te n d e rs , The B e a tle s - A D ay In The L ife, S ex P isto ls File, E n c y c lo p a e d ia M e ta llic a , D is ­ c o g ra p h y s eries; P in k F lo yd , D a v id B o w ie , R o llin g S to n e s . O m n ib u s P ress.

I have before me a stack of trite rubbish that goes under the pretentious collective label of Britain’s best selling pop books. The first impression is that Britain must be pretty starved of decent rock paraphernalia. If you feel the need for one of these books you will be laying out $4.95 for the cheapest, escalating up to $14.95 for the David Bowie book.

Well you are probably wondering just what these books are about. I can tell you now, not much. There are three discographies that claim to be illustrated, on David Bowie, Pink Floyd, and the Rolling Stones. In a word, boring. Lists of songs with the occasional photo thrown in is what you get. At $6.95 I wouldn’t touch one.

The Pretenders book is full of photos that look like the rejects for their first album cover.

This book along with the Clash book would have to get equal first prize for layout.

Somehow you are presented with the least amount of info, on the biggest area, in the most confusing manner possible, all at the same time.

Encyclopaedia Metallica is just full of macho stance, guitar hero photographs that don’t impress in the least.

A glimmer of hope sparkles when I see the Sex Pistols File, but again I am disappointed.

The captions for some of the photos are quite

vyas so integral to everything going on at the time, be it the drug or sexual (seems that the author knew Marrianne Faithfull on more than a platonic level if you get my drift) element, that the account would be incom­ plete without it.

Sanchez also shows he is capable of describing a situation so that it not only expresses a degree of distaste but also retains a sense of humour. A good example of this was when the Stones were in the process of recording their tour de force double album ‘‘Exile On Main Street” at Richards’ enormous mansion in the south of France. Keith, concerned with the sharp increase in housekeeping bills (all the Stones and their wives had come to stay), presented them with bills for $200 each for “ board and lodging” . When Bill Wyman, thinking it was one of Keith’s many jokes, questioned him about it Keith bumped it up to $250 saying “ . . .anyone who doesn’t like it can piss off to a hotel” . Can you imagine a man who was earning 2.5 million dollars in 1972 asking his (alleged) friends to pay $250 a week rent? By the way, they all paid up! This is not the only occasion in the book where Sanchez dwells on the stingy side of Richards. Probably the most amusing one though.

The book not only covers the people that the Stones used for their drug taking pursuits (not forgetting the author himself who sub­ sequently was admitted to a drug rehabilita­ tion programme), but also some of the big names within the music industry. Eric Clap­ ton, the virtuoso guitarist who was asked to join the Stones after Brian Jones was pusheci sideways, and the late John Lennon are noted for their drug habits, as well as being close friends of the Stones. Also not forgot­ ten is black actress Marsha Hunt, who mothered an illegitimate daughter of dag­ ger’s. Bianca gets her slice of the action, and how could you leave out Marianne Faithfull.

The list is endless, and the information gleaned from these pages will never be found in the rock encyclopedias I can assure you.

The 1972 tour of the States is briefly covered, but I suggest if you wish to know more about that one read Rolling Stone journalist Robert Greenfield’s account in ‘‘Journey Across America With The Rolling Stones”. It’s a superbly written account of the Stones at their peak. What Sanchez does manage to expose though is the format of the Stones’ never to be released film ‘‘Cocksucker Blues”. The film was almost shown in 1978 but it was thought unwise at the time for fear that it would prejudice Richards trial (the film by Robert Frank was footage of Keith shooting up the big H) in Toronto.

In the concluding chapters Sanchez pre­ fers a well constructed insight into middle period guitarist Mick Taylor. Taylor, the most innovative musician to grace the Stones’ ranks, has in the past been overlooked in biographies of the band. Here Sanchez manages to concisely sum up his time as a Rolling Stone.

Probably the most impressive thing to strike me about ‘‘Up and Down With The Rolling Stones” is Sanchez’s ability to honestly come to grips with the drugs that were destroying himself, Richards and Pallenberg in particular. Despite the latter duo being cast as ruthless addicts, he (while being just as addicted) draws himself almost as an outsider in some situations. Mostly it works.

At $12.95, every person who has taken an The Australian Music Directory is a interest in The Rolling Stones over the years large format, 524 page A to Z of who’s should not be without a copy of this book.

A ustralian M u sic D irecto ry

David Pestorius funny I suppose, and if the idea of seeing Steve Jones naked (yes, full frontal) excites you then you might get something out of this book.

Next, the David Bowie Black Book. This book fails to enlighten me on my hero and I am left still feeling in the dark about this extraordinary man. The photos are quite entertaining, but I’ve seen most of them before.

Is the media still trying to return-Beatlemania? The offerings in this collection certainly won’t help to promote their cam­ paign. Reading old newspaper clippings is not my idea of absorbing reading, but that’s all you get in the Merseybeat, along with a few badly reproduced photos of the fab four.

The book that takes the cake is The Beatles— A Day In The Life. This tome offers you every bit of useless information that you could ever want to know about the Beatles — to the day. Here is an example: “ April first: Technicians and actors in studios shooting Help wait for a practical joke by the Beatles to celebrate April Fool’s Day; nothing hap­ pens.”

That was only flipping through a few pages. If you looked closer I’m sure you would find an entry for when Paul McCartney took two asprin for a hang-over.

I’m left wondering just what kind of a market these books are aimed at. None of the topics are in the teeny-bopper-Adam Ant-Kiss range and no right minded human being would fork out the kind of money they are asking for such drivel. But I suppose they’ll sell a million, so dig deep in your pockets and have fun.

Crystal Violet.

who and what’s what in Australian music. It’s a weighty and impressive tome and at $14.95 is probably within reach of most people’s pocket. It would prove a most valuable tool for people already in, or wanting to find a way in to, Australia’s burgeoning music industry.

According to Michael Roberts, man­ ager of Jo Jo Zep and the Falcons and co-editor (with Peter Beilby of Cinema Papers) of the Yearbook, the book is unique.

“The American Music Trade papers put out a series of reference listings, but as they sell for anything up to $65, they’re obviously out of reach of the general public. The keynote of the Yearbook is accessibility. And the whole music indus­ try has contributed to the cover price, by advertising, to give it that accessibility.”

The idea of the book was hatched two years ago in the bar of the Portobello Hotel in London when Roberts, on Fal­ cons business, and Beilby, setting up U.K. distribution for his Motion Picture industry Yearbook, got talking about music and its attendant range of informa­ tion.

Two years, one small army of resear­ chers, numerous editorial and photo­ graphic contributions, a “three month blur” of layout and paste-up, the finished product rolled off the presses in Hong Kong. “It’s taken ten years off my life,” admits Roberts. “And it could be another twenty before it’s all over.”

Although the comprehensive listings, covering every aspect of the industry, (services, facilities, recording and pub-

record shops, media, studios, etc. etc.,) is probably worth the adm ission price alone, there’s also a brief reference section on copyright law, publishing, tax and insurance, and over 200 pages of words and photos on Australian Music.

It’s the section on Australian Music that makes the Yearbook more than a dry/ functional reference work. Clinton Walker weighs in with an entertaining view of sixties ozrok, Marius Webb (2JJJ-FM) contributes a perceptive overview of the role and changes in radio, and Miranda Brown outlines the development of the rock press from the halcyon days of Go-S(:;t to the proliferation of papers available today (RR, Rolling Stone, Juke, Vox, Ram etc.) One of the more curious contributions is ‘Music and the New Technology’ by ex-Radio Birdman drummer, Ron Keeley. T h ere’s also pieces on Country Music, Vinyl Market­ ing, Ozrok in the 70’s and the 80’s, and Australian Music overseas.

According to Roberts, a co-publishing deal has just been concluded with Billboard Magazine and its affiliates for the rest of the world — and although the distribution overseas is not expected to be huge, the book will, no doubt, become an indispensable item for the overseas music industry.

As with any listing some of the entries are out of date before the finished product becomes available, but Roberts esti­ mates that 80% of the listings will still be accurate when the second edition comes out next year.

The Yearbook is available from book­ shops, selected record stores or direct from the publishers, 644 Victoria St., North Melbourne, Vic. 3051.

And as Robert says — “It’s a great Christmas gift!”

Donald Robertson Roadrunner 47

It is, without exaggeration, probably the most eagerly awaited follow-up since I re­ covered from my first bout of post-coital depression.

Screening at a cinema near you, e’en as you read these words, is Shock Treatment, the long-delayed sequel to one of the 70’s strangest celluloid succes­ ses, The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Released in 1975 (hi.

Grandpa!), Rocky Horror initially bombed so badly it made the Enola Gay seem like a pop song.

Not until cinema managers drop­ ped the film into a late night slot did its “outrageous mixture of transvestism, homosexuality, in­ cest, cannibalism and nudity” start attracting a dedicated cult audience, it says here.

Returning to see the movie dozens, indeed hundreds of times, these fans dress up as their favourite characters. They dance in the aisles and bring along props (rice to throw during the wedding scenes, water pistols for the storm sequence and pieces of toast to hurl as the on-screen banqueters raise their glasses).

Mind you, the night I went, they seemed a pretty conservative lot.

Pretty, but conservative. I had a hole in my jeans, safety pins holding one shoe together and socks that didn’t match, which made me about as outrageous as anyone there.

But what makes the film such fun is the fans’ non-stop flow of general all-round, new, improved dialogue. Insults, instructions and snappy replies, usually yelled out in chorus. Many of the lines are the same, whether the audience is American, English or Australian. “ Kick the tyre. Brad!” “ Buy an umbrella you cheap bitch!” “With a whip!” “And that’s just his dick!”

Wilfully weird and rather won­ 48 Roadrunner

derful as the Picture Show is, it’s that one-way repartee that has made A delaide’s Chelsea Cinema, a great place to spend a late Friday night/Saturday morn­ ing over the past two and a half years. Some members of the audience have literally grown up watching Rocky Horror! Others, of course, haven’t grown up at all.

Are you surprised? Anyway, two and a half years it’s still packing them in. Small wonder that antici­ pation of a celluloid sibling has been so high.

In Sydney recently, I spoke to Brian Thomson, who designed sets and costumes for both films.

Seated at a table in his studio/ home, occupying a whole first floor of a converted Paddington factory, he says Shock Treatment has been on the drawing board for almost four years, during which time half a dozen hardcore Rocky Horror fans have phoned him regularly from America to check on its progress. Fan is short for

fanatic, after all.

The party line has it that Shock Treatment is an “ equal” , not a sequel or prequel. Some sort of continuity is provided by two of Rocky Horror’s central charac­ ters, para-normal couple Brad and Janet (nee Weiss) Majors. In the Picture Show, remember, they sought shelter in the castle of sexually indiscriminate extrater­ restrial scientist Frank N. Furter, who . . . excuse me. . . . th a t’s better. Anyway, Shock Treatment is set in Denton, “The Home of Happiness” . This version of Anytown, USA, site of Rocky Horror’s opening scenes, is one big television station. All the action takes place in Thomson’s hyper-real recreations of TV studios.

Jessica Harper and Cliff De Young star as Brad and Janet.

Barry Hum phries, Little Nell Campbell, Charles Gray, Patricia Quinn and Ruby Wax are there too. Written by Richard O’Brien

and Jim Sharman, the film has songs by O’Brien and Richard Hartley. Sharman directs, con­ tinuing a long association with Thomson that has produced some visually superb theatre and film.

O’Brien, who played Riff Raff in Rocky H orror, reappears as Cosmo McKinley, the deranged doctor whose shiny head adorns Shock Treatment’s poster and soundtrack album cover.

Among those missing this time round are Tim Curry, (Frank N. Furter), Barry Bostwick and Susan Sarandon (Brad and Janet). We also are spared man mountain Meatloaf’s version of Trotsky on Ice. Apparently work on Shock Treatment was a team effort, with creative borders blur­ ring. As well as being listed as designer, Thomson receives an “ additional ideas by” credit, which he reckons doesn’t quite do his input justice. “ It’s a bit of a cop-out in terms of what they offered,” he says.

A

Thomson seems okay. He is 35.

His former profession, architec­ ture, has left its mark on his design style in the four productions in which I have seen his work. And speaking of style, he owns every record Annette Funnicello ever made. Against this, Jaowever, must be balanced his love of Australian Rules football.

The plot? Of course, how rude of me. Brad and Janet, their marriage not as happy as it should be, tsk tsk, return to Denton.

Anxious to improve their marital arts skills, they appear as con­ testants on Denton’s daytime couple-counselling show. Mar­ riage Maze.

But the TV channel’s sponsor.

Jack Nicholson lookalike Farley Flavors, takes a shine to Mrs Majors and arranges to have her husband removed from the scene.

In fact, from several scenes. Far­ ley, (played by De Young) has Brad (also De Young) committed to the local asylum. In his absence Janet tastes the giddy heights of small town television stardom.

The script underwent half a dozen changes, before producer John Goldstone suggested filming it on the streets of Dallas, Texas. “ I thought it was a terrific idea, because I was a great fan of the TV series,” says Thomson, a self-confessed soap opera addict. “ I thought Texas will be quite strange,’ but'the amazing thing was, after all my reccies through Middle America, Dallas had it all.

We were looking for Suburbia, b a s ic a lly .” (An earlier ,site, Wichita, Kansas, had been con­ sidered and passed over, even though it must have been pretty close to what they were looking for. “ It’s the Adelaide of America,” smirks Thomson).

Plans were quite advanced, locations chosen around Dallas, when the actors strike struck last year. The schedule could not be rearranged. Sharman and Thom-

1

son flew back to Australia, to fulfil other commitments.

Alternatives to Dallas — such as filming a stage production — were canvassed and rejected, “ It seemed at that point to have absolutely no fu tu re .” recalls Thomson. “ We were determined it would have, because it’s a good little story and the music is quite extraordinary. Finally, we settled on doing it In a studio, but didn’t quite know how to formulate ii Then I came up with the idea of doing it all based on television series, quiz games and news programs all of which ! had absorbed every time I went to America Thomson recalls film ing (in London. November and De­ cem ber 1980) with affection, especially the participation of possum stirrer and ratbag ex­ traordinaire Barry Humphries, who portrays — what else? — a blind, Viennese games show host. “ He was around for the whole shoot, it was like a five-week Barry Humphries show. Barry doesn’t stop entertaining. He was so wonderful, so funny, without it being forced. I am not saying it was like we would all go sit around Barry and he would tell jokes. It was a natural thing. The crew loved him, and the canteen staff.

They would cheer whenever he came into the room, and things he did in the film became catchlines for the crew. A whole little world developed, It was a very, very good feeling ’ What was it then, about Rocky Horror tnat struck a chord on the pursestrings of so many Ameri­ cans and people^ “ If we knew, we would have had 18 out by now! People have done university theses on this. There have been articles in Time and Newsweek trying to analyse what it IS all about. Village Voice, everyone s done it. My feeling is that it isn’t a perfect film. There is a lot wrong with it, a lot wrong with the characters, in that everything they try and do doesn’t quite work, isn’t quite good enough. The way they dress and the manner in which the sets were done is immediately accessible to kids.’’

Part of Rocky Horror’s success Thomson also attributes to the mperialist Yankee running dogs’ readiness to “convene at the drop of a hat.’’“ Every time I have been any­ where in America, there are al­ ways conventions on,’’ he claims, citing a convocation of Red Indian kindergarten teachers as one of the more bizarre examples. “ I am not making any of this up! I saw a Tupperware convention on TV. You think Rocky Horror is weird:

The Tupperware convention, with housew ives wearing sashes, holding bits of plastic, tapping themselves on different parts of the body, is more extraordinary than The Time Warp. “ Rocky is, in fact, a continuous convention that convenes every week, it’s as simple as that.

Whereas all the housewives need to nave coffee and sell Tupper­ ware to each other, we have provided another generation, a different strata of society, with a focus for convening by getting together and sharing their experi­ ences. “ ! think it possibly released them from certain mundane at­ titudes to life, it has given them a new view. I suppose it has eased areas of morality. ” As for the identification with and emulation of Rocky Horror characters, “there’s nothing more extreme in

that than their mothers getting up Land getting down?] with Tupper­ ware sashes on.

‘T h e problem with Shock Treatment, if it has one, is that I don’t think America knows what to make of it, because it really is a devastating comm ent on the American fast food/TV-orientated world. I am sure a lot of Americans would see it and say: ‘It doesn’t happen here.’ But I guarantee every single thing that happens in it — although it is slightly pushed — I have witnessed in America: on television, in the streets” Apart from Americans’ potential reluctance to watch themselves se(n)t up and shot down, Thom­ son believes the absence of Tim Curry will be a disappointment to Rocky diehards. And the movie “ isn’t as immediately accessible, in being able to dress up, unless you dress as a doctor, or in

medical tunics.’’

The reception fans have ac­ corded previews, Statesidewise, has been encouraging. It has even received the official seal of approval from the U.S. President . . . of the Rocky Horror fan club, that is.

It is interesting to ponder how important timing of a movie like Shock Treatment is. For instance, A Social Worker writes. Rocky s release, around the midriff of the last decade, coincided with the emergence of punk.

But Thomson is happier placing Rocky Horror in the context of what was happening in 1973, when the stage production de­ buted in London. “ Rocky came at the very begin­ ning of glitter rock. We did almost the opposite — a trash rock musical. The reason for that is simple. We had no money. The

talk originally was to try and do it in a fairly slick science-fiction man­ ner, but on a budget of $300!

That’s how much I had for the setting and props. “ It worked because it had to. If we had had a lot of money I don’t know what would have happened.

On Shock Treatment we had a ‘big budget’ . . . $3 million. That is unheard of, to do a musical with 15 songs and quite a few more big dance numbers. When you think Can’t Stop The Music cost what­ ever and Xanadu cost $20 million . . . it is inconceivable that people get things so badly wrong when they have so much money. “ I am not saying I wouldn’t like to work with those kinds of budgets, but our producers say we work best when we finally have to deal in ideas. I am not known as a cheap theatre designer. Good ideas do cost. But in Shock Treatment, as in Rocky Horror, we had to substitute big effects with big ideas.’’

So. That’s Brian Thomson. Nice Bloke. Adelaide will see his talents applied to several projects in 1982. Jim Sharman, see, is artistic director of the March Adelaide Festival of Arts and Thomson will design the Festival opera. The Makropulos Affair, as well as The Tee Vee Show, a “video maze” of television programs that have conditioned our lives. The idiot box seems to figure prominently in Thomson’s life.

This artistic incest does not end there. Sharman also will take charge of the State Theatre Com­ pany of SA (or Lighthouse, as he has rechristened it) for the next three years. He has invited Thom­ son to design the set for Brecht’s Mother Courage in the 1982 STC program.

And Shock Treatment? From the short clip I have seen, it is as visually strong as its predecessor, perhaps slightly slicker. The music is sure to set myriad toes tapping and jow ls wobbling.

Makes Enola Gay seem like a big old American bomber.

So, in lieu of the usual Govern­ ment Health Warning, we leave you with some closing words from Mr Thomson, “ I can only say you will never see a film like it. I don’t think anyone would dare do a film like it.”

Shock! Horror! Whatever next?

Funny you should ask, ’cause “There has been talk of” a sequel to Shock Treatment. “The Brad and Janet couple can go into all kinds of other situations, obvi­ ously.”

Hmm, intriguing. But th a t’s another story. For now, good­ night.

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Various Artists Reggae Now (Polygram) Gregory Isaacs, Prince Far I & Congo Ashanti Roy are spread over ten tracks on this L.P. The light and shade of the reggae psyche is represented by these three rockers in logical progression.

Opening, as the album liner notes tell us with “the soft soul sound of Gregory Isaacs” , the mellow sad tones of the latter are immediately cheered with the following track, a reggae “ anthem” from Prince Far I and The Arabs, “ Reggae Music Moving”.

This Prince Far I is far out. He is definitely the funniest reggae artist you’re likely to hear for a long time, and his band, “The Arabs” are heavy.

Track three brings us our first airing of Congo Ashanti Roy who’s as wild as his name suggests. “ Stay Red” is excellent, full of wailer-like passion, and wah! that heavy beat, man!

The climate cools for track four, a chunky/ soulful love song from Gregory Isaacs “if i Don’t Have You”. Much of the chunk & soul would eminate I imagine from the hottest rhythm section in the reggae business. Sly Dunbar and Robbie Shakespeare. Prince Far I closes side one with a track called “ King of Kings” ', included in the almost chant-like lyric are the lines “Who is king of reggae music?” “ Bob Marley, Bob Marley” This music was recorded shortly before Marley’s death, and these lines still seem true, and are an indication of the respect Marley’s own countrymen held (and obvi­ ously still do hold) for him.

Side two opens with the recently released Gregory Isaacs single “ Front Door” an impeccable excursion into reggae cool/soul. “ Some With Roof” from Prince Far I is probably as serious as the man ever gets, and is a nice change for the Prince, with the Arabs as hot as ever. Next is Congo Ashanti Roy with “ Big Shot, which would be a terrific B-side for “Stay Red” . “ Put it out” is followed by “ Weeping Waiiing” , a lengthy track by Congo Roy, equal in composition & perfor­ mance to any commercially orientated mod­ ern reggae I’ve heard, yet with a wildness or let’s simply say “ free-ness” that is enjoyable & refreshing.

This record works both as an entertaining reggae album, and as a serious, informative sampler for the already-converted reggae enthusiast. At eight dollars retail you can’t lose either way.

Jah Vegemite

King Crimson Discipline (E.G. Records) Long ago and not very far from here people once wore trench coats with King Crimson records neatly tucked under their arm s. . . the class of 1972 had very large biceps. And so Mr Fripp has returned to be patriarch of the Pantheon once again, ably assisted by Doriclonic-Corinthian, or respectively Adrian Belew of Talking Heads on guitar and vocals, Tony Levin a noted session player on bass, and one time Yes and vintage King Crimson drummer Bill Bruford.

Retrogression does not attempt to rear its furrowed head too noticeably on ‘Discipiine’, thankfully we are presented with loose, many faceted, and expansive pieces of music.

Funk and Euclid are mixed with suspicious ease, all hail the technique that manages to produce moments of contemplation and reckless momentum on this recording.

Systems Go “ Anticipation” (Girl/Boy productions) Systems Go was an Adelaide band, the brain-child of master maestro Arnold Strals. Early this year the band broke up, buf to our good fortune they have produced a memento worthy of the band’s memory and its musical talents.

It appears that just about every trendy musician in the incestuous Adelaide scene has played with this band, with the credits running to a lengthy list. However variations in members does not detract from the fine musicianship heard throughout the tape.

Arnold Strals wrote all the material except for “ Wanna Find A Good Time”. His dirge-like voice gives a passionate edge to the tracks “No More Christmas Carols” (to me the best song on the tape) and “Don’t Touch The Window” . Liz Kelly’s voice is wistfully perfect on “Anticipation” , a delightful song that characterises Strals’ lyrical wit.

Adelaide loves to categorise bands and Systems Go were labelled as “ arty, avant

Tactics Glebe (Green) At last the air is clean and loud. Tac­ tics play dance music to listen AND

Side one opens with ‘Elephant Talk’, a hovering insect guitar makes the introduc­ tions before the whole ensemble slips into the funk-groove-rap basis of the song.

Alliterations constructed around our blahblah talk is the lyrical theme . . . “ Debate, discussion, diatribe, dissension, doubletalk, doubletalk, it’s only talk.” A guitar sound and structure reminiscent to those Fripp used on ‘Evening Star’ are very pronounced on the following composition ‘Matte Kudasai’. A song that feels as languid and picturesque as a day spent sailing with the gulls up above, until an incongruous hollow voice enters the scene to impart an equally out of place lyric . . . “ Waits in the air, sleeps in the chair, in her sad America,” The opposite side of the disc offers the album’s high point in ‘Thela Hun Ginjeet’. A true and imposing investigative ode to street violence if ever there was one, a very mantric and surprisingly tense piece spliced to the vigour of unerring funk. Belew adds the necessary psychotic edge as he sings “This is a dangerous place” in the now greatly favoured tones of Byrne. The remaining two songs onalbum are both instrumentals.

Bongos or the hitting of hub-caps go to form garde” , but in this case the label is trite and should be ignored. The multi-phoneous sounds that emerge from this exceptionally well produced local recording are eminently danceable. One is left wishing there were more than just six songs.

Crystal Violet

“ Snakes and Adders” “ Cuando Mi Amour” (Girl/Boy productions) With the rising price of vinyl it makes sense that young bands who wish to release material should do so by cassette. One such band is Snakes and Adders, a recently formed Adelaide band that plays a distinctive style of music with a strong Latin-American/ jazz feel to it. There are four songs on the tape, each credited to a different member of the band. The songs are lighthearted and danceable, exhibiting a group of musicians whose infectious sound belies the short amount of time they have been together.

Crystal Violet

move to. Theirs is Studdert’s bright star, “ a god who dances” , so start thinking on your feet with Giebe. This world is bright, sharp, tough - Tactics play the edges; they’re almost funny, sometimes sad.

the subtle spine of the sparse ‘The Sheltering Sky’. Piercing guitar work and numerous effects amble in an accurate evocation of all things extra-terrestrial. To close the proceed­ ings the title track ‘Discipline’ is called upon, as with true discipline the song is neither spartan or brutal in form. A very close knotted carpet of rounded guitar notes and other sounds drift therapeutically, one also is cast adrift until one discovers that the song ended quite awhile ago.

Mr Fripp has wasted nobodys time in resurrecting and reforming King Crimson for this outing, a shrewd mixture of dance and the cerebral that will surely endure the ravages of repeated plays. Play it under all circumstances and don’t be afraid to test the floor strength of your loft.

Toby Cluechaz

YellO. . .

Clare Que Si (Ralph Records) Ralph Records’ private investigation into extraterrestrial intelligence is still underway, with over 20 albums by various artists now to their credit.

There is a quality to Ralph’s discrimination in choosing artists which dispels any sugges­ tion that it is a label devoted to obscurity for its own sake. Yello is another band who walk the fine line between musical experimenta­ tion and excellent music without toppling.

The music here is supplied largely by Boris Blank’s electronics and Carlos Peron’s tapes. The vocals are principally by someone Called Dieter Meier, who sounds familiar.

They remind me a lot of Germany’s Can in their mood: twilit, dusky, slightly off the planet, not too alien, tight and organized, but not stifled by style or formula.

There is no trace of the dehydrated quality which much electronic music has. Most of the time it doesn’t sound the least bit electronic.

Each cut is a gem, with a clean sound and a highly addictive beat.

Here is a guided tour to a private universe.

Its characters enter and depart, lightly sketched, but lacking no depth and solidity.

Yello know what they want to do, and do it remarkably well.

There is, furthermore, an earlier Yello album available from Ralph.

Span

but always nearly serious. In between the old fences Tactics play in new ground without trying to drown in the weight of their own wit and verve. Think.

Talk. Listen. Love. Words keep falling, the wires keep humming.

Amongst the sounds this flat black plastic offers are angular rhythms bouncing off David Studdert’s whining voice. Great.

Meaning with intention, action for those in need of modern motion. Tactics-speak is simply wonderful. A lot of people hate Stud­ dert’s voice: dissonant, fragmented, wailing, whispering. A lot of people can’t/don’t want to adjust to Tactics’ uneasy melodies and erra­ tic tempos. Boring, boring, boring. Such re­ sponses come from people aurally strangled by sweet radio sounds, a cacophony of pre­ dictability and dull formulations. So sorry for you, but there’s no crooners or angst-ridden anglophiles here - just something new and dynamic.

Let me see now . . . what’s good and what’s great about this album? Well, every­ thing. There are imperfections, thank God: to tricky, too smart. But so’s this review, and if you’ve read this far the change of pace, of phrasing, of self-indulgence from the norm, is hopefully refreshing even if it’s overblown and subjective. Things have been too neat for too long. Nobody tries for enthusiasm or adventure: we listen, read, write, smell like photostat machines. Our lives are in a con­ stant state of duplication, and we don’t even mention our own cultural dreams to shape our artistic forms, our expression. A gesture of a local street name, perhaps “the Cross” , our little urban (a)illusion to bury Henry Lawson or koalas with Sophisticated? Hardly.

Just someone trying hard to paint new col­ ours on old curtains called America and Eng­ land. Tactics make good music, Australian music, if you want to call music that’s good and Australian something more than the mathematical equation of N.M.E./ Rolling Stone shadows. Cultural rebellion from the colonies. Beautiful, and about time.

The songs are excellent. Taut and broken, nervously exuding confidence. I like Better Than Mermaids” (ominous), “ Pulling In The Re/ns” (relentless), “ Gold Watch” (beauti­ ful), “ Centrepoint” (frantic) and “ Between The Trains” (perfect, lost, found). You might like them too. Maybe not. No need to worry.

Plenty of tunes here for the astute enjoyer of positive pieces to pick from. All in all, a mar­ vellous step forward from their first black cir­ cle, My Houdini.

Get drunk with Tactics, play in their ground, find your own. Glebe is a fine album for exploration. Tactics are the irregular beat in our metronome culture, our stop-watch lives. Click, click, click, hello . . . “What’s this then!” Celebrate. We’ve got a new band with a soul.

Mark Mordue Roadrunner 51

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52 R o ad ru n ner

M idniqht ignt Oil PlaceI Wil Without a Postcard (Sprint) Midnight Oil travelled to England to record “ Place Without A Postcard” , the burrs of Australia clinging to their socks.

The brush and colour relationship once used by the painter to eulogise the people and the land has been transfer­ red to the electric guitar and sodden zenith of the beer hall. Australia’s own and very peculiar mythology has been mixed with the dark intemperate truths of the 1980’s, culminating in a humanely presented but damning vinyl textbook for rock ’n’ roll educated youth and beyond.

Their collective eyes and ears have been attuned to the working flounderings of our society for quite a while it seems. The lingo and the issues are of the lingering heartfelt Australian type.

Midnight Oil have made the definitive Australian album for these times in much the same way as “Living In The Seven­ ties” reflected the Whitlam years to a greater and lesser extent. The Ghosts are very alive and potent, mining, the aboriginal question, media power and babel, menial job, and no job at all.

The sound achieved on this Glyn Johns produced and engineered disc has devotedly captured the Oil’s power and prevailing mood. On sorne instances the vitality and effort of their live sound more than comes through. Garrett’s voice roams within a wide parameter of style for optimum use and effect and all the words are quite discernible which is a factor Midnight Oil albums are not always noted for. Moments of silence and sparse­ ness allay some of the songs with subtle uniqueness. In fact one wonders if the active desolation of the greater part of our continent was that strong an inspirational well to them.

James Moginie and Martin Rotsey play pictorial walkabouts on their soaring, sharp, eerie guitar lines, until a sudden inner revelation compounds the thought into the sleight and heat of a sunset. Catchy succint synthesizer adds a variety of angles and views to the sound.

Side one opens with the single '7 Don’t Wanna Be The One” . A very dynamic song indeed with its neat synthesizer and out­ standing drumming, to which pleasing vocals add a trick here and there. Quite a selfeffacing lyric, the “ why should we make a successful life out of telling you the news?” sort of slant. An electronic death knell sounds and disappears, distorted decaying guitar welds the introduction to “Armistice Day” .

Guitar unobtrusively fades in the wake of Hirst’s bass drum. In the ensuing silence you can hear the shots, you can hear the rats, the

The Police The Ghost jn the Machine (A&M)

suspect I’ve distrusted them slightly, but the music on this album has a relaxed sound to it that contrasts with the contrived nature of some of their earlier work.

I’m still trying to work out why I like this album so much. While I haven’t disliked the Police’s previous work. I’ve never gone overboard on it either. Perhaps it’s simply the maturing of their talent, which is definitely evident here. In the past I

The production is partly responsible for my change of feelings. By comparison, earlier albums are sparse, the individual band members scattered across a huge arena.

Here, they’re all shoulder to shoulder in a smoky little club somewhere, hauling the album over the reefs and shoals of each

phone is on C.I.A. tap, remember the controlled confusion of the aftermath. Vocals and drums instil and impart the betrayals of the 11/11/ . . . direct and complete, native music and the condensed message that snubs both time and e rro r. . . “The watches do the wincing reporters so convincing but the TV never lies.” The undaunting verbosity of the television set, which makes its presence doubly felt on those fleeting excur­ sions with the channel control, is exactly how the guitars hit you and unnerve you in those short bursts. All the twisted facts and our melancholia is swept away by the guitar rhetoric of the new regime. “ Basement Flat” is a funny old song. Garrett sings of his need to move, in a fashion reminiscent of ‘Hunky Dory” , before the rock ’n’ roll zest of the band joins him.

Number two side moves with “ Written In The Heart” , a bit of fore play guitar before that distinctive and re-occurring carnival syn­ thesizer takes the reins. Hirst’s drumming is again very noticeable as it underpins and leads while the guitars dart in and out of the quiet clearings. Guitar and drums are in cahoots for the laid back ping-pong sound that allows the vocals to stand forward in all their winsomeness on “ Burnie” . A song dedicated to a whole generation trapped and becoming obsolete as the new industrial revolution strides painfully on with the changes. The Oil’s however, still show a

keen optimism for the human condition or spirit overthrowing these dreadful times . . . “ No anaesthesia. I’m going to work on it day to day. ” Next is “ Quinella Holiday” . What an accurate and true term for this nation of fatalistic gamblers. The term surely warrants inclusion in the Macquarie Dictionary (if not already there . . .) “ If the quinella comes in today” . . . the hope of a million Anzacs.

Everything past and said is wrapped up in their opus “Lucky Country” , a fair warning against our materialistic obsession and the wrongness of placing all our eggs in the nuclear basket. Musically the song rollicks on and surprisingly manages to sound like a very electric Redgum, without the nasal intonations of course. Could anyone find a more richer Australian verse than, “ Lucky country where the geckos are paid to live in the sun, on and on there’s a ribbon of road and a mile to spare. Lucky country lucky country.” ?

The exercise of reviewing has been done and I feel worse the wear for it, the songs are so complete and sincere in their message that I am nothing more than an intruding filter.

Midnight Oil have succeeded in creating a milestone third album, a more interesting musical structure and words that rarely if ever miss the mark. After seven miscarriages an appearance at Christmas, a veritable saviour in the morass.

track. I think the clue to the failure of many rock albums is simply how the voices are mixed. Sometimes they’re too far up front, strangling the lyrics with their own highlighted mediocrity. On the other hand, sometimes good words are lost by being too deeply buried.

Naturally there has to be a balance. Music never gains its importance from the words.

The words gain importance from the music, by being a guideline or homing beacon in the overall body experience which good rock (at the very least) is. The Police have created a homogeneous blend which preserves that degree of ambiguity, allowing some halluci­ nated (and hence personalized) interpreta­ tions of the songs. The play is not on words but on your own hearing.

The music is free from gimmickry. The sound is fast, pacy, relentless, drumming, a volatile race across a landscape which offers no resistance, no retardation of velocity. It will take you travelling. The overall mechanics are pervaded by a truly collective spirit, lending meaning to a title which would otherwise be pretentious. There is a sense of

consistency and theme, the conviction that a story or tale persists throughout, making a unified whole.

The story deals with a closepacked, overfull social phenomenon, a city whose buildings are cultures, a nation whose people are functions, a global network whose purpose is to keep going for a purpose long forgotten. Between the circuits, power con­ duits and data channels an unplanned crosstalk occurs, simple “ noise” between the machine’s compartments, never intended by the unknown designer and hence without status or meaningful reality. This sense of being manifests as a confused but curious organic activity, slithering, crawling, trans­ mitting among the inscrutable components, seeking either a way out — or a way to live in it.

Each track is a part of the whole, a cog in the machine, a module in an integrated working system. Within this well-engineered structure there is more than a ghost of ability, competence, talent, and good rock. The Police are on the beat.

Toby Ciuechaz

Span Roadrunner 53

“ Wall Of Voodoo” Wall of Voodoo (I.R.S.) Interesting — not something you’d expect from a band hailing from the sunny centre of the universe — Califor­ nia. ARRRR, the Good Life! Just when freshly oiled surfers, sun scorched, leather-skinned salesmen and The Beachboys spring to mind, weird sounding paranoia starts screaming across your consciousness. Yes, there are parallels with Kraftwork where, mixed with Devo’s simplicity, creating a sound which is obscurely boppy — (these veteran punks grew tired of their old image and are now trying something as equally transient).

T p ic Eric Algra.

INXS Underneath the Colours (Deluxe) Underneath the colours there is clarity arid depth, a finely honed vision, a synthesis of intellect and inspiration.

And a young group of men with vistas opening up all around them.

Put quite simply, ‘Underneath the Colours’ is an album of immense maturity which also manages to retain a sense of freshness and originality. For a band whose live shows are in the typically Sydney ‘Over The Top’ mould this album displays a restraint and subtlety that is as accurate as it is admirable.

INXS and producer Richard Clapton (who now must be candidate for the Golden Ex-Hippie Turned Producer, First Annual Steve Hillage Award) have made a carefully crafted studio album. Each musical element is easily identifiable and each receives an equitable and appropriate weighting. The sound is so clean that you could eat your breakfast off it but there’s not a whiff of sterility. The unique spark that is INXS shines through brightly.

The songs are all given consummate arrangements, extracting each nuance of emotion with painless ease. This album swings (gently).

When ‘Stay Young’ appeared it seemed a curious choice for a single. Its initial impact, on my ears anyway, was minimal. After the

The Metronomes Multiple Choice (Cleopatra) I think the title means you’re not meant to listen to it all at once, but select only a track or two at a time.

Like a box of chocolates, the record contains a variety of nebulous, chunky lumps of substance, all shapes and sizes and many artificial flavours. The Metronomes have almost made it in the sweets business, although they haven’t got into hard centres yet.

But they could. They’re organized, and

outright exhuberance of Just Keep Walking’ and the high octane slow burn of ‘The Loved One’ is seemed out of character. But in the context of ‘Underneath the Colours’ it comes through loud and clear as a signal of intent.

For INXS have changed. They’ve grown up seemingly overnight.

The rest of side one, ‘Horizons’, ‘Big Go Go’, ‘Underneath The Colours’ and ‘Fair Weather Ahead’ just glides out of the grooves. C onfidence and com petence abound, and the contents are nothing short of sublime. I’ve heard all of these songs on the radio recently and they never fail to impress. Listening to them one after another is an experience you should not deny yourself.

Side two is slightly more up-tempo, but nowhere near as loud and brash as INXS in the flesh. ‘Just To Learn Again’ is a beautifully understated song, with an ach­ ingly sweet sax break, but the other four, ‘Night Of Rebellion’, ‘Follow’, ‘Barbarian’ and ‘What Would You Do’, sound as though they would benefit from a bit of live beefiness — they’re closer to ‘traditional’ rock’n’roll than anything else on the album. However they balance the more atm ospheric/ experimental tendencies and round the album out. Breadth as well as depth.

INXS play tight, efficient, effective, flexible music. They are stepping out from under­ neath the colours of others; stepping out with courage and spirit. You should listen.

Donald Robertson don’t exactly lack imagination. Trouble is, they suffer the fault of most synthesized pop.

That is, to suit the confines of their equip­ ment, everything has to happen at a slow, tedious, plodding gait. There’s a paint-by­ numbers, Lego-block feel that makes it hard to take seriously.

At least the Metronomes don’t take them­ selves seriously. One thing holding this album up is a good sense of humour which, derivative as it may be, keeps the music alive and interesting. It’s derivative in that it depends on certain techniques which have become obligatory for synthipop groups.

Namely: a) A falsetto, melodramatic utterance of lyrics (as in Ballad of a Metronome) b) Use of juxtaposed common words or

T think about he N o ise

54 RoadrUhner

This self-titled sampler record, designed to stimulate the minds of the record buying public, urges you to seek out this group album, “It’s a Dog’s Life’’. And, while on the vinyl we are led to believe that all the songs are by Wall of Voodoo, a space age rendition of Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire’’ leaps to the fore. Unfortunately, this song gets lost in its own jungle of abstract sound, merely drifting off into oblivion. Schizophrenia skips from groove to groove on the turn ta ble as mechanically as the drum machine beating its way around the drummer, Joe Nanin.

Never-the-less, Wall of Voodoo have suc­ ceeded in creating a so-called, avant-garde, le social comment sound, as in the instru­ mental “ Grandma’s House’’. Here, we have the continuous drone of an unanswered telephone overwhelming obscure riffs float­ ing in the background, somewhat reminis­ cent of The Helicopters, “ Strawberry Hyd­ roxide’’. But, tell me — what does all this mean? Has granny died; is this another family quarrel, or is the old dear merely having another affair? Find out in next week’s episode. . .

These danceable numbers are strange and catchy, but somehow I’ve heard similar, more conventional numbers before — this ■band being influenced by everyone except each other. The music is not always acces­ sible, and the lyrics are often a vital contribution to 20th Century poetry, as in the song “Long Arm’’ — ‘Big talk, better buy more glue’. This album is not my cup of tea, but strangely enough the more I listen to it, the more it grabs me by the arm and drags me into its whirlpool.

Lyzza

Georgie Fame 20 Beat Classics fR S O ^

The British Rhythm '& Blues/Rock and Roll scene of the early 60’s was gener­ ally speaking, in the hands of a pretty scruffy bunch of rough and ready’s whose somewhat wreckless abandon towards their instruments was a great part of their early appeal and freshness.

Although he was probably a bit of a wide boy himself, when Georgie Fame appeared on the scene with his Blue Flames at London’s Flamingo Club - “ The kid really had his gig together.”

Fame’s music is a combination of tear it up R&B and stunning, soulful Jazz vocal control.

Added to this is one fat, fat, fat Hammond organ that will either dance over or chew hunks out of his Blue Flame rhythm section.

He had his biggest chart successes early with songs like Yeh Yeh and Getaway and attained a high level of maturity at a comparatively young age which other musi­ cians aspire to but often never achieve without burning out.

At age 37 he is old in rock terms, young in Jazz terms. He is just as comfortable

swinging in front of the Duke Ellington Orchestra as he is shaking it in a basement club. He never exploded into the popular scene and although a stylist in his own right, neither is he a passing phase.

And so the album - “ 20 Beat Classics” , containing his better known hits as well as a stack of brassy R&B gems including ace versions of “ Green Onions’’, “ My Girl’’, “ Ride Your Pony” , “ Pink Champagne” and James Brown’s “ Papa’s Gotta Brand New Bag” .

Surprisingly, “Bonnie & Clyde” does not appear. (It wasn’t really “ beat” though, was it?)

Fam e’s husky, old gold voice takes breathtaking excursions on the slower, “ Moodys Mood for Love” and a real spread out version of Willie Nelson’s, “ Funny How Time Slips Away” .

You’d be struggling to find a dud on this compilation so if you’ve been searching for the young soul rebel check out this early contender. The front cover alone deserves a place in your milk crate - Yeh Yeh.

Keith Newman

Mink De Ville Coup De Grace (Liberation) Coup De Grace is a finishing stroke, a completion of strategy and the title of Mink De Ville’s fourth album.

Willy De Ville, the man behind the Mink, swooms and croons his way through overtly passionate ballads which, according to Keri Phillips, makes the “so-called New Roman­ tics look like the fat, emotionally pimply youths that they really are beside this peerless interpreter of Latin-based, soulful, street songs.”

And our little Willy does play upon his New York street credibility. Monsieur De Ville labels Costello a fascist, Springsteen a country boy and boasts he can out-sing the best of them. Smother yourself in “ Mixed Up, Shook Up Girl”, “ Heaven Stood Still” and “ That World Outside” from earlier albums and you’ll not only hear but feel his passion.

Springsteen pours from deep down, De Ville pans from the mid-ranges to penetrate any emotions the love battered amongst us may retain. The singing lessons continue to pay off on this album on tracks such as “ Tear­ drops Must Fall” and “So In Love Are We” .

He knows how to use his voice and this is probably the magic of Mink De Ville — the holding back, the oozing and calculated phrasing.

De Ville’s obsession with all things roman­ tic saw him record the previous release, “Le Chat Bleu” in Paris with co-producer and saxophonist extrordinaire, Steve Davis (who toured with Dylan and appeared on many of Spector’s wall-of-sound hits.) Doc Pomus of “ Save the Last Dance for Me”, “Little Sister” and “ Surrender” fame co-wrote “ Le Chat’s” best songs, Ron Tutt and Jerry Scheff (one time cohorts of Presley) provided the rh^hm section while Jean Claude Petit, (who worked with Piaf,) arranged the strings. Lush, but how could he fail?

Coup de numero four sees the return of producer Jack Nitzsche. Kenny Margolis on keyboards, accordion and vibaphone retains those sweeping calypso m om ents that tradem ark W illy ’s arrangem ents. The Spanish guitar belongs to the boy himself.

The structures here are simpler, the product not as diverse, the mood changes not as rapid or riveting making the overall sound more cohesive. At times the passion is as thin as the moustache and tie. It’s a subtle album from De Ville and perhaps a disap­ pointment for the converts.

If heart rendering slush isn’t your scene you could hate Mink De Ville. Each song could well be subtitled, “ I’m totally dependant on you for my being.” For instance: phrases in lieu of lyrics (the dialogue of food “ Hey Girl (always anonymous), the truth of the world is in our lives and in your eyes for names and supermarket items in Sex II) c) Repetitive, tuneless slogans, such as me” — ‘So In Love Are We’ and then, in ‘You Better Move On’, “ . . . who are you to tell her “ I’m the commentator” (in Commentator), although this same technique works well in to love, that’s up to her and the Lord above’ the song Justification, where the mantra is: followed closely by “ can’t you understand she’s my girl and I’m never gonna let her go” “At least it has a steady rhythm” .

Nevertheless. I’ve heard most of the local Talk about pedestals Willy!

Scarlet Rivera-like violin features on “ End synthipop artists by now, and the Met­ ronomes are closer to being this country’s of the Une”. Here the poor boy admits defeat Human League than anyone else. I can listen so dramaticaly that one wonders if he wanted to the album more than once without getting to leave the studio and walk over a cliff. Real smooth stuff. Perfect wallowing material for bored, but I’ll never play it a great deal.

The only thing which troubles me about balmy summer evenings, rainy tin-roofed Saturdays and chronic Tuesday night this sort of thing is its cheap, plasticky nature.

Are there really people out there who think depression.

Coup De Grace’s cover is an event unto that disposable cellophane sound is where itself. Sunken-cheeked slit-eyed, slicked-out it’s at? Is there a true artistic vision which genuinely prevents exponents of this stuff Willy clasps the second last word in Oz kitsch, (the first being a tie between glass from opening up and jamming and really getting it together? Surely the catchcry is bubbled, snow blizzarded Opera Houses and Kangaroo paw bottle openers). Is he really Music for nonmusicians, rather than Non­ holding a solid gold Koala mask, a gift from music?

In fact, this isn’t the issue at all. What’s his Melbournian sister on her last New York happened is there are still creatures who are jaunt?

Rumours of a 1982 Mink De Ville tour seduced by electronic and musical theory and transpose that seduction to music in persist. Reasonable sales and a base such as Liberation Records could see the peerless general. There is no real idea growth one sleaze his way out of the speakers and anywhere here. Songs become an excuse to into the venues. But what will he bring his showcase techniques, nothing more. Pure sister? music: distilled water.

Vicki Wilkinson and Jenny Father At least it has a steady rhythm . . .

Span (Maybe a gold coup de ville? — ED)

Broderick Sm ith’s Big Combo Broderick Smith’s Big Combo (Wheatley Bros.)

Abandon all hope, ye who feel the boundaries of rock should be forever forging outwards — The Big Combo are not for you. Big Combo’s music is solidly set in the traditions of the past. They wear their influences very much on their sleeve and make no attempt to deny them. Why should they? When anyone does anything as well as Big Combo do

their thing, it’s no time for false modesty or overblown hype. The goods speak for themselves.

The difficulty with this sort of album is that it’s all been done to death by everyone and his dog since time immemorial. It takes time, and repeated listenings, for superficial pre­ judice to dissipate. But in this case persis­ tence brings its reward. Once you’ve tagged all the influences you start to appreciate that Big Combo have an awful lot going for them.

Not the least of which is, obviously, the voice of Broderick Smith. It’s a voice of immense character; distinctive and direct,full of feeling, passion and emotion. Whatever quibbles I may have about the musical

The Go-Go’s Beauty & the Beat/The Go-Go’s (Illegal Records) This all-female five-piece is one of those bands which appears and then disappears, forever to lurk in the dubious eternity of sale bins. Time and chance may prove me wrong; if so, it will be because either the Go-Go’s have up­ dated their style a little, or because of a worldwide swing to functional, dispos­ able party music.

Marianne Faithfull Dangerous Acquaintances (Island) Two years on and Marianne FaithfuH’s done it! She’s followed up her debut album “ Broken English” with a tight, professionally packaged offering which is Oh — so smooth. That’s not to say this album isn’t good — it is. But, unfortu­ nately, gone are the days when Marianne Faithfull was determined to claw her way to the top, massacring any twerp who dared stand in her way. This is an album of swish production, a swanky P.R. job, catchy, uptempo, danceable material, and a few big names, like Steve Windwood, thrown in to make everyone happy.

Marianne Faithfull co-wrote seven of the nine tracks on “ Dangerous Acquaintances" with Jo Mavety, Barry Reynolds, Terry Stannard and Steve York, old faithfuls from Broken English, lending a helping hand.

Faithfull’s strong, harsh voice is continually supported by the interesting well varied musical arrangement, comfortably funking its way around the vinyl. And, Yes, well you’ve guessed it, this song writer’s influences are at times rather straight forward.

“Intrigue” sounds as if it’s about to break out into “ You Can’t Always Get What You Want” (the Rolling Stones classic) and the lyrics have familiar connotations. The first few chords of “ Strange One” could have been lifted off any J. J. Cale number, and does “Eye Communication” have a rhythm which could be faintly attributed to Talking Heads? It’s the lyrics, when they haven’t lost their driving force, which truly make this album Marianne FaithfuN’s; the music seems to be flogged from every fourth hit single back to the mid 70’s.

The single lifted from the album, “Intrigue” , isn’t one of the better tracks. It’s commercialibity is never in question, but the lyrics are inert. A ballad, it lacks the power and action of this singer. On the other hand, “Eye Com­ munication” stands alone. It begins with funk, finishes with groove, and is full of gutsy lyrics in the middle.

The other danceable tracks on this album, “ Sweetheart” , “ Strange One” , “ Tender­ ness” and “ For Beauty’s Sake”, (the “ b” side of her single, co-w ritten with Steve Windwood), all swing to bop ditty studio beats, mixed calculatedly under simplistic lyrics and classy guitar/keyboard riffs. “ So Sad” — the mood maker slows this album down with style. It gives everyone a chance to stretch. It’s musically interesting, the orchestration enhancing M arianne Faithfull’s attempt to sing in tune. Lastly, and totally predictably, the ballad “ Truth Bitter Truth” , lingers on, leaving this listener wondering whether this record is a piece of songwriting mastery or merely another slug on his intelligence.

This is studio genius at its best — and well, if “ Dangerous Acquaintances” is what it takes to make money — who cares!

Marianne Faithfull isn’t going to lose any fans from this puddin’ pie, even if she does look silly on the cover. This album is easy to listen to, but whether it would still grab you in six months time is something else.

Lyzza

The Go-Go’s (terribly awkward name to type) have taken all of the usual issues you’ve heard in standard pop songs for the last twenty years (god has it been that long????) and rewritten them for the sake of copyright legality.

We are told that they have “ got the beat” , that someone is “ fading fast” in their memories, that they can’t stop (it’s automa­ tic) — get the idea? Also they have skidmarks on their heart.

Sometimes their sound approaches the Beach Boys without the harmonies, or the Supremes without the soul. They are a latter day B-52’s (another hard typer) looking for a party.

Well, their discoey sound is competent, and they do have a good sense of rhythm.

Occasionally they reach stirring, arousing heights, but in general they’re just going for fun times and dancing mania.

Also, there’s probably a single on the album but I haven’t identified it yet.

setting, that voice just sweeps me away.

Broderick is a good, nay, g re at, oldfashioned soul singer. If the quality of his vocals doesn’t move you on the album closer, ‘Ruby In The Snow’, please check your heart for icicles.

The album opens strongly with the chug­ ging ‘Last Train To Mobiltown” the superb ‘Faded Roses’ and the soul-funk of T/ghfrope’. Unfortunately the rest of side one drops in standard, with the laboured boogie of ‘Hire Wire’ and tired honky tonk of ‘Back Off. Both rely too heavily on repetition, and while they might work live, on vinyl they sound pretty boring.

Things perk up on side two though, where

the only dubious track is ‘The Devil Drives’, a fairly standard road-blues with a slight overdose of Eastick-guitar. But 7 Was Here’, ‘Fortune Favours the Brave’ the patriotic ‘My Father’s Hands’anti the aforementioned ‘Ruby’ are all songs of quality and distinction.

The playing of the Combo cannot be faulted. They are tight (D.A. territory), confi­ dent and stylish. The songs are superbly arranged and the production is terrific — smooth but unslick, retaining an element of rawness and life that could easily have been swamped.

Pats on the back all round boys — this is a damn fine debut.

flashbulb, progress is speaking by num­ bers. Rage In Eden if you must, but remember the water is no good and all the psychoanalysts became cobblers in New York a long time ago.

names such as ‘We Stand Alone’, ‘Stranger Within’, ‘Accent On Youth’, etcetera. All are very similar to each other in both style and construction, only the momentum and lyrics are changed for the sake of a small identity.

The overall subject matter of the record deals with melancholy and pain, a particular melancholy and pain that those in the rarified heights of society suffer from. All quite nice and pretty and ultimately quite meaningless, answers are never approached you see.

Undoubtedly one will find this album to be consistent, there are no high spots and certainly no low spots, quite an incongruity for a band that supposedly trades under the banner of innovation and adventurism. Pro­ duction and sound is flawless and as such is the recordings strongest point, make sure you have white walls and Nietzsche in the bookcase before you play it though.

And so to this classical package and the recording, side one opens with ‘The Voice’.

Economical but interesting drumming cour­ tesy of Warren Cann whips up the necessary dynamic, while Teutonic synthesizer glides relentlessly over a broad and sometimes colourful area. Some form of trickery or technique allows the synthesizer to act in a soundtrack manner, always there in abun­ dance but on the level of the unobtrusive.

Midge Ure’s voice is the dominant compo­ nent on the record as it rides above the music, delivering the serious, witty, and inane verse that distinguishes a modern day Ultravox. On some occasions you feel like you have been whisked away by these lyrics to the heart of academia in some gay bar.

The other eight tracks on the album have

Donald Robertson

Toby Cluechaz

Span

The Sports Play Dylan (and Donovan) (Mushroom) Two sides, five songs; the Sports come in from left field with surely one of the year’s genuine curios.

‘Sunshine S uperm an’ is done fairly straight, no surprises apart from the fact that they do it at all. ‘Ballad Of A Thin Man' also sticks fairly close to the original, but gee it’s nice to get lost in Bobby’s meanderings again. Although it doesn’t say anywhere, I think Andrew Pendlebury sings lead here.

Side Two is full of surprises. ‘You’re A Big Girl Now’ is given an absolutely stunning new arrangement. Maybe it’s because my fave Zim album is ‘Blood On The Tracks’, but the subtle, subdued funk swing with muted industrial guitar and high range black soul vocals opens up whole new perspectives on this song. This is about as far away from a ‘cover version’ as one could possibly get.

‘Fourth Time Around’ is also a corking mutation. A beautifully languid guitar line, steady beat and a vocal delivery that is as much Cummings’ as it is Dylan’s add up to a potent aural brew.

“All The Tired Horses’ is given a marvel­ lous lounge room style shakedown. Hypnoti­ cally addictive even in small doses.

Unfortunately that’s all — I could listen to this sort of stuff for hours. But thanks for the memories Sports and I hope this means you’ll be born again real soon.

Donald Robertson

Ultravox Rage in Eden (Festival) I do not want to discuss X, or Y, or Heliogabalus, who were thoroughly despised and therefore did not last long.

Instead I shall begin by saying contem­ porary princes are troubled by this problem of having to take extraordinary measures to satisfy those up to the minute record buyers. Machiavelli, who me? Ultravox maybe, the Vienna coffee has become syrupy, another use/death

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Etron Fou Leloublan...

Les Trois Fou’s Perdegagnent Etron Fou Leloublan...

En Public aux Etats-Unis Ferdinand.

En Forme (Celluloid) The only way to approach this ex­ tremely foreign band is historically.

They are of course French, ana have played, principally in Europe, since 1973, their lineup altering slightly around a three or fourpiece with founder members Guigou Chenevierand Ferdinand Richard remaining constant. If we wished to place them in a cultural context, they have been affiliated with the English band Henry Cow and its prominent member Fred Frith. The name, apparently, means “ nonexistent crazy white stuff” .

It is not entirely unreasonable to label their music ethnic, in that it retains a certain unfamiliarity of style and one can never be entirely sure one is liking or disliking them for the “ right” reasons. You can take it from me that five years of high school French is not sufficient to comprehend their lyrics.

Musically, they’re a total hybrid. In any album you can hear traces of McLaughlin (without the religion). Miles Davis (without the jazz). Van Der Graaf Generator, and of course whatever it is that makes European bands sound the way they do. A knowledge of Plastique Bertrand’s music is not suffi­ cient.

A friend said he thought they didn’t work the way Amon Duul don’t work. I’m still trying to articulate this observation more clearly.

Perhaps it means there is a certain selfcon­ scious “weirdness” or “ experimental mad­ ness” which always makes the music a little cartoonish or unreal. On the other hand, the funny accents we laugh at when foreigners talk is not intended by them to be amusing.

How does this music sound to a French person?

EFL do have a bent sense of humour, and a rough, raw sound, with plenty of room allowed for improvisation over a consistent if somewhat jarring and boneshaking beat.

Personally, I’d listen to this stuff the way I’d listen to Peter Hammill, except that they lack his polish. Anyway, if nothing else, it has to be loud. Very loud. And even if it isn’t, listening to any 3 sides of these records is the equivalent of a six hour binge of any other heavy music.

They’re easier to appreciate when they play without singing. Not only does the opaqueness of the words cease being an obstacle, but the vocals aren’t really very interesting anyway. On some of the longer narrative tracks, the voices become a defi­ nite hindrance. But the purely instrumental tracks, they work.

The ultimate test is the live album. A band can do what it likes in the studio (particularly these homemade independent groups) but when you’re trying to entertain an audience, any dissatisfaction they have will affect the album. EFL have wisely released a live album recorded not in Europe but America, giving us some kind of crosscultural com­ parison. And as it happens, the live album is

Pink F lo y d ...

A Collection of Great Dance Songs (CBS)

XL Capris Weeds (Axle) More Australian music hits the streets — Whow! It’s from Sydney this tune, (they’re cool Babe). Here’s an album by six pseudo intellectuals, a choc-a-bloc collection of fast, tight, catchy dance ditties, with about as much relevance as Russian sea snakes in the Argentine sea. Everything you’ve come to expect from a “ New Romantic’’/ “ Moderne’’ group is here. YA-Know, those funny keyboard riffs, the sharp drumming and strange sound effects. ‘‘Killer Seas” and ‘‘A.M.P.” , on side one, are two of the more memorable tracks. Both possess a driving rhythm and stylised blitzy vocals from Johanna Pigott, XL Capris’ up-front singer. They do tend to work providing you don’t become too involved in the general rhubarb being fed to you. On side two, ‘‘Spirit of Progress" is the only one which does anything for me. Admittedly, it’s all old hat, that is, using trains and the like, as fairly fragile, metaphorical judgements, di­ rected towards the ills of society. However, this wizardry, when mixed with a swift puffing-billy beat, produces a song which chugs along quite forcibly. Unfortunately, the other tracks merge into general nothingness.

No matter how many times I listen to them they all drift into a long, vague jam.

XL Capris may not have broken much new ground with this, their second album, but they do hold the promise of being a great pub band. Weeds is continually bogged by the song writers’ ‘el lousy lyrics’, and the repetitive music arrangement. Hmmmm, a definite ‘maybe’.

Liza

This is basically a re-release of six tracks which already exist on Floyd albums of the last ten years.

One track. Money, has been remixed. A hidden message?

1 haven’t tried dancing to it yet.

Span

Ferdinand Richard’s solo effort, En Forme, is surprisingly good in places. Some of the tracks suffer the same faults as Les Trois Fou's... but half the album at least has a force which is more compact and digestible than the group work. His voice is stronger on chorus lines, when the repetition supple­ ments the solid foundations provided by his backing musicians and creates as a result good, comprehensible rock and roll.

So is it worth your while writing to France for these records? I hesitate to answer. After some acclimatization it is possible to find much in these albums which is entertaining, powerful, and even enchanting. There is the

mystery of unwrapping the peels around a mysterious civilisation. There are also stretches of tedious, difficult, roughshod noise. There are times when you can’t take it any more. There are times when you forget what you’re listening to and get totally off on it. Much of the time it remains obscure, ambiguous, and perhaps for the connoisseur alone.

Span (All of these records are available by sending US $16 (including postage) to Jo Thirion Cl- Freeson, 30150 Pujant, FRANCE.)

the church THE DEBUT ALBUM OF SKINS AND HEART

Inner City Unit The Maximum Effect (Avatar) Captain Sensible gets credit for strap­ ping on the old six string for a couple of rounds here (Jeez, you would need to be told) and there is in fact quite a strong Damned influence showing up through­ out the whole album.

Actually I don’t think this bunch is al­ together serious about the whole thing (and vee MUST be serious in everysink ve doo) with titles like, ‘‘Epitaph to the Hippies", ‘‘Skinheads in Leningrad” , ‘‘Sids Song” (a goody) and a yakety-sax version of "In the Mood (Nude)” .

A real standout is ‘‘Bones of Elvis” illustrating (as my English teacher put it) to “ the maximum effect” Uncle Sam’s takea­ way entertainment, takeaway war, takeaway religion, takeaway politics and takeaway hope. All gloriously epitomised in good ol’ Elvis the 1st.

So if you like 1 part humour, 1 part power chords, 1 part football choruses and" a few guidelines for daily living, try “ Inner City Unit” at a shop near you.

Keith Newman

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stylized with originality. The keyboards on “Ain’t This the Life’’ are imaginative and catchy, and the almost full brass orchestra running through each song is terrific, but when adding these sounds together you end up with a run-away milk depot. Whoops G litter-C latter W ham -Bam -Boom !

Nevertheless, “ Violent Love’’ is a wonderful moderne adaptation of many 1950’s moon­ light numbers. It swings with funk, moves with groove, and Mick dagger couldn’t do the vocals better. “I’m so Bad’’ is Harry Fox’s attempt in social comment, but despite his ignorance this song manages to swim through its musical jungle of overwhelming sounds.

It’s disappointing that this group’s got lost in their own manufactured pretentious daft­ ness. This E.P. has a lot to be said for it - it’s condensed, catchy and instantly playable, but Oingo Boingo’s alienating, over stylised first album casts a dim light over this, their first effort.

Models Local And/Or General (Mushroom) Models create fractured music for fractured times. Why stick to one style, when there are so many means of expression? What the Models are actu­ ally trying to express is not exactly clear, nor probably im portant. But their musical/vocal collages are as valid a depiction of modern live and social mores as any.

Although ‘a lp h a b ra vo ch a rlie d e lta echofoxtrotgolf’ showed keen minds and nimble fingers at work, one couldn’t help feeling that it was but an indication of the potential Models possessed. The‘CutLunch’ mini-L.P. displayed a more realised band — the different styles exaggerated for better emphasis, and generally a more focused approach.

Happily, ‘Local And/Or General’ continues that process of realization. Recorded in the English countryside, it demonstrates all the positive benefits of self-imposed exile; im­ proved perspective, self analysis and work­ manlike attention to the task on hand.

Models do not conform to conventional patterns of musical behaviour. Being equal parts art and entertainment, seriousness and humour, one is never sure which tangent they’re going to dart off on, nor indeed when.

Good cases in point are the uncredited (on the album sleeve) version of ‘Telstar’, with a spoken ‘partner wanted’ ad as an intro, sandwiched in between ‘U nhappy’ and ‘Dying For My Country At The War’, and the delightful calypso style ‘Rate Of Change’ which closes side two.

Unpredictable Models may be, but you can’t really accuse them of being inconsis­ tent. Whatever style(s) they turn their collec­ tive hand(s) to, be it the ‘mockabilly’ of Mark Ferrie’s ‘Unhappy’, the pop chorusing of ‘Local And/Or General’ or the jazz moodi­ ness of ‘Dying For My Country At the War’, they manage to maintain an inherent credi­ bility. What could have turned into a dilet­ tante’s orgy is saved by a spirit of genuine exploration and a conveyance of real feeling.

This is not a classic album, but it de­ monstrates a band struggling to come to grips with its own individuality and in the main succeeding admirably. You don’t have to be drunk to get into it.

Donald Robertson

Liza

“ Oingo Boingo” Oingo Boingo (i-R S .) . ,

The Stockings Red Tango (Rough Diamond) ^

It seems ironic to be reviewing a self-titled four song, self-produced E.P. made in late 1980, when Oingo Boingo’s debut album, “ Only a Lad” , has just hit the tiles. However, let’s dig deeper.

The Wylie-West Band “ Making Tracks” (E.M.I.) On the first listen to ‘Making Tracks’ I won­ dered why would a band trying to make an im­ pression on the national music scene want to re­ cord so many country standards, instead of trying to carve out their own identity with their own songs?

As I listened again, mainly to find out who was picking that mean acoustic guitar, I picked up the cover and read the credits and

Surprisingly, this E.P. is far better than Oingo Boingo’s album, even if this group is far too avant-garde, social bullshit, maturity el-pluso, for me. Both technically and musi­ cally it’s great, but lyrfcally Harry Fox and Danny Elfman fall into the trap of writing irrelevant, melodramatic blurb.

The drums on “ Only a Lad’’ are innovative.

found that “ Space Age Saddletramp’’, “ Help Me Pass the Time’’ and “ Flash Johnny Gilbert’’, the stan­ dards I’d been bothered about, were written by Fred West! Now, what was the band’s name again?

Oops, my mistake! These are the sort of songs that form the heart of dedicated and very good bands and with each new record, as more songs are added to the list, so the bands music becomes a part of each of us who have listened to their music.

And here is my point. “ Making Tracks ” is the first step along that path. Al­ ready recognized as an ex­ citing live band, their first L.P. — I’m not counting an

earlier album as their first — confirms that they have the m aterial to sustain the hard-won reputation of their live gigs. But it seems to me that they are at the prover­ bial “ cross-roads” .

Both the production and some of the performances seem to lack the authority that is the stamp of hard w orking, professional bands. The W ylie-W est Band isn’t that sort of band . . . yet. The magic of their position is that the future lies in their own hands.

This is an exciting, good Australian record and one which I hope will be the first in a long line of honest, brave music making.

Andy Armstrong.

David Briggs tries to do it again. On first listen, this could well be another album from Australian Crawl. But with­ out the lyrical quality. It’s mostly easylistening power pop (if that’s a contradic­ tion in terms then it explains the album’s lack of appeal). The vocal phraseology and harmonies, the concise dual guitaring, the dominant yet economic drum­ ming — all well performed and produced but lacking much spirit or excitement.

Originally a Perth band, the Stockings have been around quite some time without capturing the imagination of too many. They did receive some alternative radio action for a self-produced e.p. during 1980. Now based in Melbourne, the band recorded Red Tango in June this year. One could be excused for suspecting a mix-up and that these songs are the out-takes from Sirocco.

The record is at least consistent. There are no highlights. It’s . . . pleasant. Not quite background muzak. The title track opens the album; an almost instrumental described by the record co. memo as a “ modern piece” . To me, it sounds like nothing more than “ Hocus Pocus” (remember Focus?) laid back. It’s really the only track that contrasts. “ Highlycrafted, polished material” , they call it.

Craft/art, polish/natural. I think that says it all.

Peter Mudd

he Noise think about tomorrow, tomorrow b/w cold hard cash/ rat race tor>Wv new maxi single available now at selected outlets Roadrunner 59

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Various Artists URGH! — A Music War (A&M) A cursory glance at the inviting list of artists perform­ ing one track each on this double album of ‘previously unreleased’ live material reads like a who’s who of New Music — Devo, XTC, Magazine, The Police, Gary Numan etc.

Sound enticing? Well, yes, but remember it’s a live album and live perform ances vary in quality.

There’s rumoured to be a film following which should explain everything nicely, but at the mo­ ment the album can only be judged on its own merits.

What I can tell you is that all 27 tracks were recorded between August 15th and September 19th 1980 in various venues in France, England and U.S.A. with one Tim Summerhayes at the controls.

That makes for one frantic month’s work in my book. So this album is really Tim Sum ­ merhayes’ month in the life of a recording engineer — the groups appearing seem almost coinci­ dental.

The album itself is a pretty mixed affair — a few highlights, but quite a lot of padding and no real surprises. Side one begins well with The Police giving a good performance of one of their better songs, ‘Driven to Tears’, Toyah Wilcox gives an inspiring rendition of an uninspiring song. Orchestral Manoevres in the Dark do a rushed version of ‘Enola Gay’ as their finale for the evening, appa­ rently in a hurry to get home, XTC’s version of ‘Respectable Street’ has Andy Partridge’s voice straining to the limit — sounds like the last song of a long hard tour.

Oingo Boingo and Wall of Voodoo also appear.

Jools Holland ac­ companies himself on ‘Foolish I Know’, but really ought to accom­ pany someone else. Athletico Spizz ’80 perform ‘Where’s Cap­ tain Kirk’ like they were bored with playing it months before; Alley Cats’ ‘Nothing Means Nothing Anymore’ is quite passable and Klaus Nomi (who?) shows that there is room for opera in rock.

Side Three gets off to a good start with a spirited performance of ‘U ncontrollable U rge’ from DEVO, Followed by Echo and the Bunnymen with ‘The Puppet’. We then fall into a slight hole with three rather ordinary up tempo tracks from the Au Pairs, the Cramps, and Joan Jett & The Blackhearts, whose ‘Bad Repu­ tation’, is at least a little better than the other two. Pere Ubu’s ‘Birdies’ is almost listenable, and Gary Numan’s ‘Down in the Park’ is almost the album highlight — the machines are all working well, but Gary chooses to mumble his vocals disinterestedly.

Magazine stand out from some pretty rotten stuff on side four with a version of ‘Model Worker’ which is almost identical to the live version (recorded in Melbourne only three weeks later), and which appears on ‘Play’. Otherwise a slightly less than perfect version of ‘He’d Send in the Army’ from Gang of Four and ‘Shadow Line’ by the Fleshtones are quite in­ teresting. 999 and X present some very ordinary songs, while John Otway’s performance is daft and Skafish dismal.

If you enjoy this type of mixed assortment on an album, or you’re trying to collect the complete works of someone whose one track appears here, then it might be worth the price of a double album. I myself counted some­ thing less than half a dozen tracks that measured up to initial expec­ tations. Perhaps the film will make it all more relevant. Thank you, and goodnight.

Adrian Miller

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Olivia Newton-John Physical (Festival) There’s very little doubt you’ll have to be a real sensi­ tive artist to aoDreciate this one. Who else but a genuine weirdo would conceive of such a bizarre scam as this. Some­ one has a massive sense of humour. To take that sicken­ ing, gutless whine of a voice, back it with schmaltz, and then market it with such incredible pressure that it sells like crazy (crazy . . . hmm, there’s a clue).

I still d on ’t know why Countdown ran a one-hour adver­ tisement for her last movie.

Yes, I have listened to it, but I don’t remember. But even SHE has a sense of humour, doing the film-clip wearing a nappy.

What IS good music? People have kind of rules of thumb, or generally realise that things they like often have similar qualities of temperament, intensity, originality and the such-like. But I challenge anybody with half a mind to find any redeeming qualities on this disc (or any of her others) what­ soever. This is state of the art in commercial, disposable, mean­ ingless, twittering pap-pop. It’s the calling card of mass suburban subversion to ignorant, anonym­ ous, passive uniformity. Stupid, tasteless, gutless, and a suitable anaesthetic for the waiting to die crowd. Smooth slick muzak.

To be blunt, it’s pure, unadult­ erated yakshit.

Martin Bormann

Toni Basil Word of Mouth (Radial Choice) Toni Basil may be destined for great things, as the current hype suggests but to my mind there is more push than talent in this package. The produc­ tion is good, the voice strong if reminiscent of other success­ ful female singers of late and there is even some kind of energy but on the subtlety scale there is not even a flicker.

These ingredients have of course made many a pop phenomenon and many a mil­ lionaire but the songs on ‘Word of Mouth’ are not quite strong or commercial enough to deserve, or I hope get, the kind of success the marketing guys were obviously after. Anyone who dresses up as a ‘cute’ pink poodle for a record cover, deserves to be given a can of Pal and tied up in a corner.

The songs, written by such people as Chin & Chapman et al are all bouncy, good fun and forgettable except for the abysmal rendition of “ Little Red book” which is remarkable for its lack of taste.

Cathy Tune

Thought Criminals You Only Think Twice (Larrikin/EMI) This album was recorded at M^ Studios by their chief engineer Scattered Order.

All the tracks on this album are unfinished. There are occasional glimpses of possibility, but they become bog­ ged down in undirected fiddling rather than genuine minimalism. The Thought Criminals are not without talent, but they have fallen into the trap of many amateur ex­ perimentalists, that is, they take randomness too far. Often they seem to know almost nothing about the song they are performing.

This may be easily explained by the nature of the songs.

They are boring and laboured lyrically, trying too hard to seem obscure and winding up trivial. The situation is sum­ med up best in the track New Toys.

More stimulation something familiar We need new toys, or noise is so similar Nowhere else is their vision stated more explicitly.

— Span

60 Roadrunner

Having been woken too often to the sound of some fem ale D.J. playing Joanbloody-A rm atrading every second song (the Joni Mitchell of the late seventies and early eighties) it was with some dis­ taste that I found I had been lumbered with the task of re­ viewing her latest effort “ Walk Under Ladders’’. For days I delayed the inevitable, clean­ ing the house or doing the washing to postpone the dreaded duty of being left alone with that album. Imagine my amazement when I found Td been depriving myself of some of the best music I’d heard for ages. Not only were some of the lyrics sensitive and so close to the bone that they could make me squirm but the music was inventive yet subtle.

The first surprise was the syn­ thesiser opening to the first track “Tm lucky’’ — quite a plucky little song and a bit different from what I’d heard before. Now as I explained before, I never exactly went out of my way to listen to previous albums (I didn’t have to) but to my ears this was a different J.A. “ When I Get it Right’’ was

next up: again with an exciting in­ troduction and some really in­ teresting phrasing in the lyrics. By gof I think she has got it right. “ Romancers’’ is a great song too — nice little reggae touch, not too overdone. “I wanna hold you’’ has plenty of punch thanks to a lovely solid drumbeat. “ The Weakness in Me’’ is the first of the sensitive ballads she is known for, but this one is just perfect — it sends shiv­ ers of recognition down the spine.

After 5 good songs on side 1 it was a little harder for side two to compete, but “At the Hop” and “Eating the Bear” both have lots of fun and energy while “I can’t lie to myself” is a mildly sardonic, reggae feel song that also works well without being brilliant. “No love” another ballad is disappointirig but only because our ex­ pectations are still so high from side 1 and “ Only One” has some lovely synthesizer parts which complement the gentleness of this song to perfection.

J.A. fans are probably laughing up their sleeves at my new-found enthusiasm. Enough has been said about her writing and singing for them to have known all along that she is an incredible talent, but on this album I think she has achieved new heights. Now can I just sleep in a little longer in the morning?

Mosko Serkas

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Australian Crawl, Broderick Sm ith’s Big Combo, Marc Hunter Band (3XY Rocktober Concert) Myer Music Bowl, Melbourne.

The Myer Music Bowl has been the site of some of the most outrageous events in Australian “ pop history” ; here the Easybeats once con­ quered all, Thorpie thundered to a 100,000 sweaty kids, Malcolm Fraser came to wit­ ness ABBA, and AC/DC took their well deserved revenge on a city where they once played the midnight shift at the Hard Rock Cafe.

But this afternoon the volume’s down, the crowd’s well mannered, and there’s little pop (Australian Crawl excepted) and no edge — what we have is just a sunny afternoon that’s a showcase for an AM radio station and a manage­ ment company in the form of Wheatley Brothers, who are pro­ viding three of the four acts on the bill.

And to review them. I’m pushing through a friendly crush, arriving too late for Moving Pictures, who have hopefully gone home to the Manzil Room with their tinkling Springsteen photocopies. Some­ body near me is gazing at some flash puppets jumping in the dis­ tance. Wendy And The Rocketts? they wonder, politely, but no such luck — it’s Marc Hunter, or at least his band. Marc arrives following a tedious instrum ental, looking superbly kitsch in his Patti Smith drag, but acting unexcited. He’s also singing with loads of reso­ nance, and his new songs can’t stand the strain.

Who remembers a legend? The crowd mills about, throws coke cans, stares at each other. Big City Talk, that marvellous minor hit, rouses a few cheers, and we sway nostalgically to April Sun In Cuba. The finale is that queasy mix of Gazza Glitter and Mott The Hoople, Rock’N’RolTs A Loser’s Game, and the stomping riff moves a few bodies into action and handclaps before Marc goes away, looking relieved.

An occasion wasted, more or less, but Marc couldn’t have been much inspired by his band, a bunch of beer farm hacks who included the usually excellent Mark Kennedy on drums, and plodded like cart horses when they should be generating some funk and sparkle. But it wasn’t all their fault; Hunter is a potentially great singer, a man capable of

P«c,

shaman-like live manoeuvres, but one surmises that the past, and fears for the future, still have too strong a grip on him. Get in the groove, Marc — you’ve nothing to lose but your reputation!

Next up, to a bigger cheer on arrival than Mr. Thunder received on making his exit, come Brod Smith and his Big and slightly flabby Combo. Who, I ask, supplied the program for this “young people’s gig” ? After all, the Reels were available to play, but instead we have to make do with adult music. Never mind, I thought, settling back for a selec­ tion of enjoyable cover versions — only to find that the old opportunist has gone all original on us, de­ monstrating that it’s never too late to become a Significant Song­ writer. The first number is called Last Train to Mobiltown, all about refinery suburbs and lonely sta­ tions, in which Brod seems to be attempting to do for Melbourne’s Western Suburbs what Brooce did for New Jersey.

I doubt if any of the Altona schoolkids in the audience wanted to hear about the place in a song, but there you go; the middle classes will eat it up, just as they do with Don “ Rem and” Walker’s prison chic.

Brod himself is singing well, strutting like James Cagney in white trousers, and the songs aren’t bad, though a little short on hooklines. But band problems are again obvious — they play that same old Bombay Rock stomp that Marc Hunter has saddled himself with. There’s no sharp­ ness here, just a clotted mix of styles from the lumber room of the seventies. (Now if Brod could just find himself something as good as the Rumour or J. Geils .. .) Mai Eastick surfaces in the mix to prove he can’t cut it on John Fogerty’s Almost Saturday Night, and otherwise behaves himself, except for the expected tasteful mega-wank on Iceman. Faded Roses, corny as all hell, gets the expected cheers and is a not-bad moment, and Brod lets us out to play again after finishing with a big bad ballad called Ruby In The Snow, which sounds like some John Donne out takes set to Racing In The Streets.

But to be fair, this wasn’t an entirely unsuccessful outing.

Broderick Smith is a local rock rarity, not just for his workingclass origins, but also for his discrimination and his mastery of a whole bag of black and white vocal tricks. If he ever does put it altogether as a songwriter, he may become an interesting musi­ cian instead of just another taste­ ful bar room illusionist.

per soundtrack. The tension mounts, a 3XY voice makes the announcement, and they bound on to the stage like winners — Australia’s number one guitar sextet, Australian Crawl!

They don’t want to be the E-Street Band, or the Stones, or even the Reels. Perhaps, at times, th e y’d like to be the Pelaco Brothers (a big beat version of Six Days On The Road is offered in evidence) and they don’t mind us

p k *

anti-Bjelke tirade than Redgum will ever dream about) and we all feel suitably m elancholy for Downhearted. For the encore, Guy McDonough comes out to sing Mixed Up Shook Up Girl with exact passion, and there shouldn’t have been a dry eye in the house.

Forget the Angels, Split Enz, Iva and the Iceblocks; the Crawl are the true inheritors of the pop crown that’s passed down from the Easybeats, Daddy Cool, the ’Hooks, Sherbet and Dragon. The macho men mightn’t know, but the little girls understand. This is a band that doesn’t offer any re­ sentment or weary romance of dues paid— just smart songs and an innate sense of what’s going to connect.

They provide the only near­ perfect part of a not so perfect day, and if they’re going to be as always as assured and surfwashed clean as this, long may they be at the top of the heap; a great band for Rocktober, or any other month of the year. Mean­ while, we can only hope that next year’s version of this event will feature the Birthday Party, Rose Tattoo and the Models — that would really be something .. .

Adrian Ryan

And m eanwhile, w e’re still searching for the afternoon’s pro-

Models Joyous Invasion (Tivoli Hotel: Adelaide)

62 Roadrunner

joining a public school football chant on Indisposed. Pretence is left at home except for Simon Binks’ harmless g^uitar-hero pos­ ing, and James Reyne’s rapport with this audience is superlative; he’s a great frontman, a big brother you can trust while he’s up on stage, and then forget about.

People dance to Red Guitar, sing the chorus to Lakeside, bang heads to a killer version of Big Fish In A Small Pond (a better

A lg n L .

\Afhen a band plays a support (to an interstate and/or big band,) a lot of things have to be taken into account. The obvious one is that the band are playing to a crowd of people who are not there to see them. The other, more important and, unfortunately, very common one is . . . well, put it this way. A big, interstate band, especially after travelling all the way to Adelaide, wants to sound and look impressive, and is therefore, not about to let some unknown local support act get in their way by, perhaps, sounding better. So it was this night . . . The Joyous Invasions sound was like a mire — the drums were like pillows, the bass was something you felt rather than heard, the guitars were murky and the voice lost and, therefore, unmelodic. Thus, lost too were the dynamics so important to this band, and the style and sounds which runs through this bands songs, giving them a unique flavour, was turned by a bad mix, from an advantage into a sore point; making usually different songs sound samey and ineffectual.

The Models came on to a howl of delight from the crowd, (which says a lot for good reviews and media coverage, I guess). There was Andrew Duffield, looking smooth as usual and with glasses pushed, oh so debonairly, on top of his head; Mark Ferrie with his short sleeved, buttoned up shirt and funny smile — the proverbial

Mr. Nice Guy — and Sean Kelly, thin tie accentuating his similar frame. This is the first time I’ve seen them with Graeme Scott (Buster Stiggs’ replacement) and they’ve also got some new guy — with a haircut like Blitz gone wrong — on guitar, (name of John Rowel -E D ) Launching into the set, the first few songs are unfamiliar, but — groan, groan— they sound like so much rock’n ’roll I’ve heard a thousand times before. And what is that new guy doing? Naff a ll. . .

Mixed right down, he seems to be just staccato strumming, and look­ ing weird.

Graeme Scott is nowhere near as clean in his drumming as Johnny Crash and with the Mod­ els’ sound, at times like slabs of fuzzy noise, crispness would seem essential. The new songs are overtly rock’n’roll orientated, perhaps exaggerated by the bands “ discovery” of thrashy “ punk” guitar-playing, a facet which also mars the older songs. {“ Pate Pedestrian” for instance, has lost its modernity via this fault, and a lot of the familiar songs sound like a buzz-saw, hack band covering Models songs, rather than the real thing).

By the tim e they played “ Telstar", I had begun to get the same feeling I had when the Flowers (nee Icehouse), made their third and fourth visits to Adelaide. The same old scene, the same movements, sounds, songs and stances. Watching Sean Kelly tightly grab the microphone and look, like some

demented, threatening ostrich, over the heads of the audience, I got the feeling he was looking for approval from the back wall — which remained, sensibly, solid and unmoved by the whole, lacklustre affair.

I wasn’t the only one unimpres­ sed. One after show comment aligned them to “ Stars on 45” , which is pretty accurate, since the Models seem to be working off that steady bass-drum beat, whilst playing a blur of sound and favourites over the top, designed to penetrate even the thickest skulls.

In all fairness, the band had played four gigs and travelled 2,000 (so I’m told) miles in the last four days. Yet, whilst I might be seemingly contradicting myself in so far as saying that it’s wrong to make one’s mind up from one gig — especially after taking the aforementioned facts into account — no amount of excuses can cover for the trashy sound and treatm ent of potentially good songs, the noisy rock’n’roll slabs of the new material, and the same old on-stage stances'and actions.

It just seems a bit forced, the new-wave position acting as camouflage for (on the whole) forgettable rock’n’roll.

With Joyous Invasion, it was the Models roadcrew who stuffed them up. With the Models, it seems they’ve done it all them­ selves. As I stumbled out into the night, I felt a fresh, welcome breeze on my face and thought, if only . . . if only they could have been like this ..

____ ____________ Earl Grey

.X'

Sunny Boys, Beats Working, Little Murders, Jump Club, Melbourne It’s a pop weekend.

On the box there’s a re-run of that ragged documentary Heroes Of Rock’N’Roll, with thuggish host Jeff Bridges trying to look sincere as he reminisces about the jangling sounds of his adolescence. I switch on as Elvis goes into the army, switch off as the Band grind through their song about Dixie. And in between there’s the best of times; the sixties.

We get a truncated view of the Beatles, slathers of Stones-m ania, Bobby Dylan at his best, all am­ phetamine tics and hollow cheeks. And then the for­ gotten heroes — the Byrds, a brilliant Lovin’ Spoonful, the Yardbirds, and best of all, Buffalo S pringfield, paranoia personified as they thunder through For What It’s Worth.

Ah, nostalgia . . . but as the Swiss say, it’s only a form of homesickness. Or a good enough reason to go and see Little Murders at the Jump Club. Once upon a time, this band were a must to avoid live, despite the fact that they’ve made three excellent Au-Go-Go singles: all songw riterfrontm an Rob G riffith ’s charm and good intentions were imprisoned in a wall of noise and leaden rhythm.

Thankfully, changes have been made, and they’re now groping toward some real sting and bounce. The old rhythm section has left to be replaced by Dots bassist Alan Brooker and on drums and guitar, the clean-cut Paul and Kym Homburg, formerly of the som etim es m arvellous Leftovers (BendigoMelbourne version).

This is a debut outing for the new lineup, and they’re sweating hard. The second song is the Byrds I’ll Feel A Whole Lot Better, played with requisite fire, and ev­ erything from the old re­ pertoire has been polished till it shines. They’ve stop­ ped battening on their mod audience and playing Who covers, and are even strik­ ing out for some uncertain

territory with the funk edges of Fear, the sentimental epic What’s The Matter With Mary, and best of all, the ominous Creedence-like pulse on Walking On Water.

There are still some clumsy moments. Rob Grif­ fith is risking disasterous comparison when he sings Stand By Me (where Ben E. King and John Lennon have been, only the brave follow) and the guitarists still tend to thresh blindly much more could be achieved with dis­ cretion.

But from here on in. Little M urders can be recom ­ mended, and this was a gig where the simple emotions being transmitted from the stage and the dancing mayhem out front recreated that mythical beat club es­ sence of long ago, which I’m sure must be the band’s prime ambition.

The weekend rolls on, and the next night the ambi­ ence at the Jump Club was more cattleyard than youth club as the punters were packed in beyond the limits of greed to witness the Sunny Boys, who have been making a killing in Melbourne. Southern audi­ ences have a fatal attraction toward high-energy Sydney guitar bands (The Church and Matt Finish are exam­ ples) that can kick it out in a manner that innerMelbourne bands are too cool to attempt, and the Sunny Boys are finding more airplay here than the Angels did in their earlier days.

Once past that energy, however, there’s little appa­ rent substance to this band.

They crash through a suc­ cession of m ostly unmemorable songs with sim­ ple declarative titles (maybe they should entitle their fu­ ture concept album “ Tired Of Being Happy When I’m Not Alone Getting Kicks With You’’) built on the simplest of guitar devices.

The band’s main distinction is the voice of Jerem y Oxley, who was in excellent form tonight, bellowing like a Rob Younger w ho’d simultaneously discovered True Love and a liking for Matt Munroe records.

The Birdman influence is starkly apparent in Sunny B oys’ style, but their superiority over the other dreary Darlinghurst kommandoes lies not only in their enthusiasm but also in their use of dynamics, the

latter, adm ittedly, being based more on the loud-soft principle than any construc­ tive use of rhythm. Both drummer and bassist are obviously adept, even origi­ nal players, and it’s a pity that they do nothing more than simply roll and tumble along in the rush.

This wasn’t a night where the Sunny Boys could be seen at their best; the at­ mosphere wasn’t that could be converted into a “ good time” . Their version of the sixties and attempts at a recreation of a mourned-for mid-seventies energy col­ lided in a void, but there’s sufficient power here, and glimmerings of soul, for this band to have a future.

Beats W orking are a band with a fraction of the Sunny Boys’ uncontrolled motor energy, a neater vis­ ion of a guitar-pop past.

They have a three-pronged attack of Chris Dyson (former Dots mainstay) one time Cuban Heel Spencer Jones, and bassist James Lloyd, one of the original, slightly notorious X-Ray-Z. Their attack is limited by a stiff beat and thin guitars, but there’s wit and energy to compensate. James Lloyd sings with a style that falls awkwardly between those of Tom Verlaine and Bryan Ferry, and there’s a wry edge to his delivery of such songs as Dreams Come True and Quirk Of Mine that makes them nearly irresis­ tible. Spencer Jones, who looks, plays and sings like a refugee from a Sunset Strip folk-rock band, circa 1966, comes to the party with a hint of soul to his melodies, and he can sing them effec­ tively, which is more than can be said for Chris Dyson whose writing and playing are subverted by his non­ voice. Almost brazenly con­ ventional, Beats Working at least have an unselfcon­ scious desire to make things move which serves them well when all else fails.

You can get up and dance to Monkey And A Rocket simply because it has a Chuck Berry riff, something th a t’s good enough for someone, somewhere.

Guitar bands, going down the road, they serve so many purposes; most of all these days, they remind you of something else. Try any of these three and you’ll get back exactly what you put into it.

A drian Ryan

TRUST ME, TM A DOCTOR.

ik|, TWENTIETH CENTURY- FOX PRESENTS JESSICA HARPER CLIFF DEYOUNG “SHOCK TREATMENT" ‘-377,6 Co-sforring PATRICIA QUINN RICHARD O BRIEN CHARLES GRAY NELL CAMPBELL RUBY WAX ond BARRY HUMPHRIES Music RICHARD HARTLEY and RICHARD 0 BRIEN Book and Lyrics RICHARD O'BRIEN Screenploy by RICHARD 0 BRIEN and JIM SHARMAN Additional ideos BRIAN THOMSON Executive Producers LOU ADLER and MICHAEL WHITE Produced by JOHN GOLDSTONE Directed by JIM SHARMAN _ _ _ _ NRC n n iD O LBY STEREOl -H\iC IN s e l e c t e d Th E- i t p l -

)1961 TWENTI ETH CENTURY FOX

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