Here’s a really nice letter that I discovered as I was going through the mail, and it comes from Manchester, Chorlton. I won’t give the names out to save on embarrassment. It says, “A friend of mine has just started nurse training in Dumfries. She has a boxy room in a staff residence and we agree that whenever you move house and you’re sat there feeling crap and alienated, turning on the radio and getting Peel in your room, gives you a feeling of being at home and no matter how many times you move house, turning on to the Peel show softens the blow.” Well that’s exactly what it’s supposed to be all about and that’s cheered me up a lot, reading that.
My selections came from a full 3 hour show. I was able to include everything I wanted to keep, but 3 selections fell from favour:
Luke Slater - Amil [Remix] On the Discogs review of Slater’s
X-Tront EP Vol 1, which this track comes from, one reviewer puts forward the theory that Amil has nothing to do with
amyl nitrite, but instead links to
amiloride, which is used to treat high blood pressure. The music certainly does enough to convey the body working with the various beats and lines evoking the pumping of blood, heartbeats and crackling synapses. However, once the track moves into skronk territory with frequencies and modulations which sound like a migraine developing into a stroke, I had to make a decision, and if this was to end up on a mixtape, I think I would end up regretting it. The type of track which, if heard in company, you end up talking to the other people all the way through it, so as to distract them from the lapse in taste. All that being said though, it’s only a near miss. As is….
The Infotainment Scan (1993) was all about regressive idealism. You can’t live in the past like that. It’s a lot more dangerous than you think. Kids growing up hearing their mams and dads talking about how great 1976 and 1981 were - it’s bullshit! There have never been any great years. You get the odd moment here and there but never a clean year of wonder….and then all of a sudden you’ve got those ridiculous list programmes like One Hundred Great Horror Films and whathavya. (Mark E. Smith, p.197/198,
Renegade, 2008, Penguin).
From what I can hear - and definitely from
what I can read - A Past Gone Mad is a pure embodiment of that idea, with its swipes at
Spangles, old football annuals, the glorification of murderers and, oddly,
Ian McShane. Even the instrumentation makes clear that this is a track with its eyes fixed firmly on the future - there isn’t a dual drum kit to be heard. The problem is though that everything I’ve learned about A Past Gone Mad’s reason for existing has been learnt away from the actual recording itself. As Smith unleashes his screed against the things he would rather die than become, the production overwhelms his vocal almost to the point of inaudibility. What we end up with is a fairly inessential sounding techno track. The lo-fi cackling laughter at the end of the song could be a deliberate comment on this, but if we can’t hear the points being made, and it strikes me that this was a lyric which was intended to be heard, then who is the joke ultimately on? The 2025 me thinks that A Past Gone Mad is great, but it’s on behalf of the 1993 me, who would not have had the supporting information to hand, and who would have been wondering, “What’s so funny?” that it misses out.
I think that the reason why I initially react positively to Blast Off Country Style tracks is because it’s always nice to hear skinny guitar in amongst the growlier, abrasive guitar sounds that tended to be on Peel show playlists at this time. The problem invariably comes once
Evelyn Hurley starts singing….
The story of Eleven Days, Eleven Nights revolves around an affair which an architect has with a romantic novelist who he meets by chance, 11 days before he is due to get married. Unbeknownst to him, the novelist is using their relationship as material for her latest book, which chronicles relationships with 100 lovers, and the architect is Lover Number 100. The second half of the film deals with the emotional fall out as the architect’s guilt begins to battle with his lust, the novelist’s detachment starts to turn into love and the architect’s fiancée begins to suspect that something is going on with her husband-to-be. The first half of the film details several of the lovers’ assignations, one of which takes place at a recording studio, where they get up close and personal in order to provide real heavy breathing for the soundtrack of a porn film. Before that though, the architect is waiting in reception where a dippy looking woman, channeling
Diane Keaton’s Annie Hall look is strumming an unplugged electric guitar, while tunelessly singing an utterly dreadful song that she’s written about her pet dog. She’s convinced it’s going to be a hit, and that she’ll be a star. I suspect that Blast Off Country Style had more self awareness than that character, but if I hear them on future Peel shows, it’s going to be a struggle for me to see much beyond the Dog Song lady.
Pictures you can hear: The inspiration for Blast Off Country Style?
