You know what it's like to be utterly in love with someone you can never have? That frustrated yearning that endows them with mythical, hypnotic perfection? Without wanting to sound overly dramatic, that's my relationship with the Pixies. Because, to my perpetual dismay, I was never there. Good bands come and go with the weather, but there are precious few genuinely great ones, unforgettable and addictive one-offs that hook you on the first listen and never let you go. The Pixies' rock music was a glorious mix-up, a furious, demented free-for-all paradoxically bathed in sweetness, wit and melodic charm. The sort of thing that puts a quick jump in your gut when you think about experiencing it live.
They proved, although technically no slouches, that virtuosity means shit next to a mad bastard with a microphone; Black Francis (later Frank Black) was a true eccentric, a yelping bundle of energy with a UFO fixation and fluent Spanish, a fountain of scattergun phrasing and nonsense-lyrics. Purists will quote the debut Surfer Rosa as the ultimate Pixies album, with him in delirious full flight and Kim
The remaining two albums were glossier and less satisfying affairs but still yielded gems, notably the complete abandon of U-Mass, the sexy, angular swamp-rock of Subbacultcha and the insistently gorgeous coda to The Happening. By the end of their career the Pixies were vouchsafed a place on indie rock's roll of honour, their influence discernible in everything from Nirvana to Blur and their founder members still commanding critical recognition and cult popularity.
A perfect example of character over technical gloss, the Pixies get my vote for being utterly, exuberantly unique. When I hear them at their best I feel like jumping on cars, setting fire to stuff and kissing strangers in the street. Is there a higher commendation? Perhaps this: a few weeks back I lent Surfer Rosa to a huge Led Zeppelin fan, who returned it the following day wearing a look of confusion and trepidation that I will take to my grave. Death, I say, to rock's dinosaurs. Long live the Pixies.
Nathan Midgley.
Related Links:
The Pixies Official Site
Thrashin's Pixies Page
Pixies/Debaser - A Small Pixies Site
OK, so I was watching one of the 'Homicide: Life on the street' videos sent to me by a compadre from Ireland; because I'm such a colossal fan of the show, was much aggrieved by Channel 4's treatment of the show, and caught on to the show five seasons too late - caused by one turn of fortune, due to staleness of both Liverpool and Match of the Day, but I digress.
One of their famous/infamous montages was cut to the Alternative Rock track, "Not Ready Yet" by Eels, and I smile. I smile because the song fits the montage perfectly; a utopium of synergy, dark, under-stated, switching at just the right time from sombre to all-out expression. This, I would imagine, is why Eels' songs have featured so often in epsiodes, along with early Garbage. Then I thought about the songs featured on the debut album, "Beautiful Freak", and from there we come to this.
The reason why I have chosen Eels for the 'Band You Can't Help But Love' section (which is graced by My Life Story, Divine Comedy, Ooberman, Pulp, and Ben Folds Five) is that Mark Westerberg aka 'E' has consistently provided songs to make you think. "Beautiful Freak" is one of the best debut albums ever released. I remember listening to Stuart Maconie's album show on Radio 1 (before they lost the plot) and everyone who reviewed "Beautiful Freak" loved it. When I reel out some of the tracks featured, "Novocaine for the Soul", "Susan's House", "Guest List", "Lucky Day in Hell" and "Not Ready Yet", I understand why.
These are simple tunes, cut to moody lyrics; which to be fair is a simple analysis of Eels' first album. By the time the second album occured, E haad lost sister Elizabeth to cancer, and subsequently wrote an extremely personal album, "Electro-shock Blues", with
From there, we went to Eels' most uplifting record, "Daisies of the Galaxy", which featured "Mr E's Beautiful Blues" and "Flyswatter", a welcome return to a sound more at ease with itself, even if Mr. E wasn't entirely. Finally, a resurgent and unashamed E returned; newly wed, sporting a Paddy McAloon, Captain Birdseye beard. He looked refreshingly comfortable, with "Souljacker" almost as unashamed as "Electro-shock Blues", but more confident in its approach. Thus far, "Souljacker (Part I)" and "Dog faced boy" growl at you, and you love them for it.
As a band, Eels have provided more than a sufficient amount of interest to connoisseurs of good music and deserve this acclaim.
Craig Aston.
Related Links:
The Official Eels Site
The Galaxy (fansite)
Mr. Folds has previously described them as 'punk for sissies', but that seriously does them a great disservice. Initially a bass player when he was 18, Ben Folds switched to piano; and despite not being classically trained, he tinkles those ivories with such class, you'd prefer him playing at your wedding than Elton John anyday. Having learnt to play piano, Ben hooked up with Metal/Jazz freaks Robert Sledge (Bass) and Darren Jessee (Drums).
There debut arrived in 1995 with the eponymous LP, which gained them major interest with airplay of the fan-favourite "Underground". Other stand-out tracks included "Sports and Wine", "Where's Summer B.?" (a track dedicated to one of Darren's ex-girlfriends), "The Last Polka", and "Boxing", which in itself is just exsquisite, and wonderful blend of lullabye-
Then in 1997 came their big success. "Whatever and Ever Amen" drew the band mainstream attention and won plaudits from reputable newspapers and magazines nationwide. Giles Smith of the Mail on Sunday recommended as one of the three albums as a must own that year. The single that drew the most attention was "The Battle of who could care less", despite "Selfless, Cold and composed" being one of the sleeper, but stellar tracks on the LP.
Early Demos followed with "Naked Baby Photos" a chance to catch the guys at their rawest, edgiest, and under-produced; and despte some critics slating it, the ability still shone through, and was an impressive addition to the collection. Then the concept album - very imaginative title, very polished sound, and a wonderful rites-of-passage inspired single in "Army", with a brass section to die for, and more balls than Count Basie. A major departure followed with the synth-inspired "Master of Pop", which was interesting, and baffling all at once.
Just before the proposed sixth album, the band announced that they had split to pursue other projects. Ben moved to Australia, wrote some songs for the Grinch soundtrack, and has just released the first single off of his first solo album, which carries on the Ben Folds tradition well, whilst being slightlier poppier than before. Darren and Robert pursued projects in the US. Darren moved to New York, and Robert remained in North Carolina.
Craig Aston.
Related Links:
Ben Folds Five Official Site
Ben Folds Five: A Figment of Reality (fansite)
I’m going to be honest here. I haven’t always had reasonable/varied/eclectic tastes in music. I think the first record I ever bought was Shakin Stevens’ ‘Green Door’. My record collection pre-1990 rarely sees the harsh light of day, for far too many incredibly embarrassing reasons. But around about ’94 I discovered Pulp, all thanks to the Mercury Music Prize, which I normally have little time for (especially in recent years where whoever has won has never been particularly interesting), and amongst such tedious ‘acts’ as Take That and M People, I discovered Pulp’s ‘Do You Remember The First Time?’ Rather fittingly, really.
And, thanks to fellow GCUK contributor Paul Monk’s far more respectable record collection, I fell in love with the band. The Sisters EP and His N’ Hers were quickly purchased, and even their, ahem, occasionally amateurish first three albums (It, Freaks, Separations), were certainly, well, interesting. Eclectic. And full of Pulp’s now trademark passion.
But Pulp were also the first band that I fell in love with that were more than about the music – they were a band with personality, with a sense of humour, context and class and other such qualities that are all too rarely found in the charts.
But I don’t think anyone suspected what would happen after His N Hers. Sure, everyone expected a lot, but commercial success? Fame. Notoriety? Nah. Never. But Common People bit in to the nation’s hearts, and it would have been a sure-fire No.1 if Robson and Jerome’s bastard pop tune ‘Unchained Melody’ hadn’t sold utterly ridiculous amounts that week. But it stayed in the Top 10 for a few weeks and, incredibly fortunately for Jarvis and co, The Stone Roses pulled out of Glastonbury, and the rest is well known history.
For most bands after all have produced the odd hit, but an all time classic album? One that was even better than the superb His N Hers? But Mishapes/Sorted For E’s and Wizz, and Disco 2000, all rallying cries for the indie kids with a sense of humour, were the finest examples of intelligent pop that had been seen since The Smiths.
Back in the days before it was allegedly cool for our indie bands to experiment Pulp were playing with dance music on tracks such as Feeling Called Love and remixing other bands too. What more could you ask for? And so when somehow the melodic and slightly depressing Something Changed even managed to make it in to the top 10, y’knew that the band would have to do something seriously fucked up to lose their legions of fans.
And to Pulp’s credit, they did their best. Because predictably even the music press just wanted the next album to be ‘Different Class part 2’, and just couldn’t begin to understand why the dark ‘This Is Hardcore’ would be Jarvis’ response to his new-found fame. But Pulp were never just about rallying cries for the disaffected youth or seedy paeans to cheap sex, as anyone who’d heard their back catalogue knew. And whilst not every track is a classic, ‘The Fear, This is Hardcore and Seductive Barry’ are about as complex, sexy and damn well good as Pulp get.
We Love Life was released in October 2001, Jarvis's ode to nature and a far more upbeat album than the last, perhaps thankfully. After all, you don't want to see your favourite band just repeat themselves, do you? The band successfully sold out three nights at Brixton Acadmeny (for a review of which, click here), and now plan to tour the nation's forests next Summer. And whilst chart success may not still be in the palms of their hands, credibility is, and thats surely all that matters.
But at the end of the musical day, the sign of a truly special band are all the (credible) incidents that surround them. And Pulp perhaps more than other britpop band have the most varied and truly amusing. The following being just a few of our favourites: The 16 year struggle to find fame. Jarvis’ performance on Top of The Pops, where he declared war on dull pop with a note pinned to his clothes stating that he hated ‘Wet Wet Wet’. The infamous Michael Jackson Brit’s Arse Attack. Common People at Glastonbury ’95. The Sorted For E’s and Wizz cover controversy. Headlining at V’96. The video for This Is Hardcore. Various attractive celebrity girlfriends. Jarvis’ ‘Outsider Art’ documentaries. A credible appearance on the Ali G show, and, most recently, encoring with Babies at Reading 2000, and the whole of their gig at Brixton Acadmey in November 2001.
Alex Finch.
Related Links:
Pulp Online
Bar Italia (fansite)
Click here for the second page of Bands You Can't Help But Love, featuring The Divine Comedy, Ooberman and My Life Story.
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