HIGH TECH, LOW TECH, NO TECH!

HIGH TECH, LOW TECH, NO TECH!

LETTER FROM BRITAIN

by

Cynthia Rose

Technically speaking, it’s autumn here— and that’s the time when promoters, publishers and pluggers bestir themselves. It’s already served as the signal for Capital Radio and the Institute For Contemporary Arts to inflict another ICA Rock Week upon the public. This one (entitled “Art Rock Of The ’80s: Pop Goes the Easel”) features few entirely new bands—Flesh For Lulu, Beach Authority and Quando Quango have dented the consciousness either at Leeds Futurama or down here in town—and no one extraordinary.

It’s first-night headliners Clock DVA who are likely to boast the most broad-spectrum drawing power. That’s the result of their best-selling “Breakdown” (a bumptious, brassy 45 which features swoon siren Katie Kissoon on assistant vocals)—which is backed by their version of Uncle Lou’s “Black Angel’s Death Song.”

This quintet seems finally to have stabilized DVA-tion under founding father Adi Newton (back in 1977, one-third of the Future, along with Ian Craig Marsh and Martyn Ware). And perhaps the Velvets cover and themes are appropriate from a man whose first recording lineup yielded one death-by-smack-OD—bassist Jud Turner—plus faceless band the Box. Easels aside, for assured artiness and primo Lou Readings, I’ll stick with J. Henry (T-Bone) Burnett’s version of “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend.” That dominates the gay disco dance floors just now.

uni i x got solid art-rock it commo + ° ^ heads about music which and k n J ?n "art” without losing beat SL d?'J m taking of Hull’s Red a moIS’ w*1o have one single out already: HiHu ca^e^ ' Good Technology.” This H ^U1^s and builds both drum and ink6 vocal recalls those days en David Byrne actually sounded sincere (remember Love Goes To A Building On Fire”?). And indeed Byrne might well envy the Guitars their lyrics: “We’ue got music that is pop-ular/We’ve got machines that sound like orchestras/We’ue got the ability to transplant/We’ve got freezers full of body parts/W.e’ve got computers/That can’t find us friends/We know roughly when the world will end. ” The chunky refrain (“Goodgood-good-good-good-good technology!”) even recalls Byrne’s stutter.

Like New York’s Cool It Reba (if their new demos are much to go on), bands such as this prove there’s lotsa life yet in the body below the Heads. But beyond talk: nervy musings from Reba and heavier muscle from the Red Guitars. The latter remain struggling up in Humberside, too, despite the popularity of their 45 (aptly issued on the Self-Drive label) down here in London.

More avant-bop is the likeable little novelty number “Musica POP,” from new band the Bic. The name’s familiar, since vocalist Bic Brack—one-half the “band” comprised of herself and friend Martin Sheller—was formerly one-fifth of a group called the Regents, who hit the Top Ten in 1980 with a sillier song called “Seventeen.” Back then Ms. Brack was a refugee from the Cut-Outs (Bic and her pal Cath plus a few backing tapes). And soon after, the Regents were reduced from making tracks at Conny Plank’s prestigious studios outside Cologne to frustrating attempts at recording nine-tofive in their manager’s bedroom. Several nifty numbers (B52-vian in a British mold) emerged from these labors, but all bit the dust—and the band broke up—when Arista shelved the tapes.

Bic and Martin, however, persevered, as has their German connection. Musica POP’s flip (“Go Jo”) is a collaboration with Berlin hotshots Einsturzende Neubauten. Its percussion consists of swatting film cannisters and its “vocals” include interwoven snatches of conversations captured—a la Robert Fripp—by Bic’s hand-held micro-cassette.

It’s the catchy A-side, though, which has mainstream appeal, even if most of it arrived courtesy of Ms. Brack’s Portuguese phrasebook: I love to shop/For the musica bop/Put la disca/On la stereophonical!. I like it as much as I like the way Cath and Bic ran for their diamante when I dropped in with a photog all those years ago, never mentioning that they actually had nowhere to live at the time. The Bic’s single launches another new indie, Go! Discs (8 Wendell Rd., London W12 UK). I hope it can remain as esoteric as my fave source-so-far for novelty tracks: Zensor, in Berlin (04 Burkhardt Serler Belzigerstrasse 23 1000 Berlin 62). You don’t have to know much German to get the gist of the jokes on most of their vinyl.

Take “Endlich Satie!,” a current nightclub fave rave, on which Angelika Maisch does a deadpan* Cristina Monet-style rap over two sides of genuine Eric Satie. (She’s abetted by Klaus Kruger; always a top-rate drummer, he’s a bit of a guiding light to the German avant-garde, with two LPs—great New Beatnik music!—of his own out here on Innovative Communication). Zensor quartet Seen Links have also got a hot, one-off EP called “Lakes Left, Castles Right.” And every bit as swoonily harmonious as the Everly Brother’s recent Albert Hall Reunion are Die Zwei (The Two), with “Einsamkeit Hat Viele Namen” (“Loneliness Has Many Names”). Currently, Die Zwei are planning an LP called Die Zwei In The USA, which will contain a Beach Boys’ cover.

Also from as essentially foreign turf (Northern Ireland) come Aghadowey quartet Perfect Crime, with a sound that’s hot on the heels of Big Country. The brainchild of 23-year-old Greg Grey (writer, sax player, frontperson and PR), Crime leapt to prominence as tour support to U2 when they were only 18 months old. Now, with one number from their three-track EP (“Brave”), they’re marshalling a corner of the crowd who love those martial gee-tars. Perfect Crime’s other influence—Grey earned his living as a DJ for far too long,

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I fear—leaves me stranded amid a welter of loose ends, but “Brave” goes down quite neatly. Bravery, however, gets a much more ironic attack from another Irishman on Philip Chevron’s folkie version of “The Captains And The Kings.” It’s a bittersweet anthem penned against English nationalism way back in 1958 by noted playwright Brendan Behan for his drama The Hostage. Chevron, like the late Behan, is also a Dubliner, and since the age of 18 he’s maintained an involvment with musical/political theatre of the Brechtian variety.

You’ll hear “The Captains And The Kings,” though, because one Elvis Costello produced it. Just like the likelihood of your hearing Perfect Crime has increased, now that the Eurythmics have sponsored them as support on a brief seaside tour.