Showing posts with label Year 1978. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Year 1978. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

This Heat - This Heat (1978)

Rating: 9.7

Those who claim that the 1980s had nothing to offer by way of good music miss out on some of the greatest bands in the history of progressive music. The 1980s saw excellent releases from bands in both the first and second waves of Rock In Opposition (which officially began in 1978) as well as the burgeoning movement known as post-punk, a genre that, while not entirely progressive, was by its very nature inherently progressive, and which drew greatly from progressive ideals (just as the original punk bands did). Chief among these post-punk bands, at least for me, was This Heat, who remain to this day one of my favorite bands, largely due to their excellent Deceit album. However, their eponymous debut should not be overlooked, as it, too, is an excellent album (though, for the record, it was released in the late 1970s).

Even if you don’t like punk music, don’t automatically dismiss This Heat. While they are post-punk, they sound nothing at all like the Sex Pistols. In fact, they are more musically aligned with bands such as Faust than they are with any of the punk or even post-punk bands of the time. If you don’t like Faust, you might have more of a problem with This Heat, but even then, I’d still urge you try them because they manage to condense the musical explorations of Faust into a more concrete structure. Don’t get me wrong, this album is still remarkably obtuse and does not invite confidences, but it is, at least, easier to see (at least at first) where this album is going than it is with Faust.

Enough with the Faust comparisons, however, as This Heat carved their own unique niche in the musical world. They manage to combine the best aspects of all sorts of krautrock with the frontal assault of punk in ways no one had done before or has done since. On songs like “Not Waving,” we can hear strains of Zeit by Tangerine Dream, but mixed with the off-kilter vocals of Charles Hayward. This is a song that will take a while for the listener to figure out where it’s going (unless, of course, you’re a fan of Zeit). If you don’t think that’s what you want in your music, however, have no fear. “Horizontal Hold,” the first real “song” on the album (“Testcard,” which opens and closes the album, is merely electronic buzzing), rocks like few others while still incorporating aspects of the dissonance that made Faust legendary in the krautrock world.

The rest of the album lives somewhere between these two extremes. “24 Track Loop” is a bouncy track using… 24 track loops. The unimaginative title masks what is a very imaginative song, one of the best examples of electronic music ever conceived, and it doesn’t even sound like electronic music, really (at least, not in the sense of Kraftwerk or even Tangerine Dream). On “Water,” the drones of “Not Waving” are mixed with the extraordinary drumming of Charles Hayward. It is this drumming that is the crucial element in the brilliance of This Heat. While the contributions of the other two members should not be ignored, Charles Hayward was the mastermind of This Heat and it is his drumming patterns that lift This Heat’s music onto the high pedestal on which they belong. He is a serious contender for my favorite drummer, and you need only listen to “Twilight Furniture” and “The Fall of Saigon” (which, not coincidentally, are, along with “Horizontal Hold,” the main highlights on the album) to understand why. He is not a drummer that excels, as Chris Cutler (another contender) does, in variation. Instead, he is best viewed as a “beat creator.” His drum beats rank among the very best, up with those of Can’s Jaki Liebezeit (the third and final contender).

Unlike their magnum opus, Deceit, This Heat is not a concept album. However, the lyrics do reflect the band’s political leanings. For example, in “Twilight Furniture,” we hear Hayward croon, “careless talk costs lives,” and, of course, it’s not hard to guess what “The Fall of Saigon” is about. The lyrics tend not to rhyme, and the vocalization is probably as close a human imitation of the drones of “Not Waving” as can be achieved, but the effect is marvelous. I do not lie when I say that This Heat rank among the greatest lyricists of all time. This is seen better on Deceit, but the lyrics here still reflect this. As for the vocals, some will complain about the lack of emotion present and that Hayward doesn’t have a great voice, to which my response can only be what I’ve already said: “the effect is marvelous.” The vocals on Deceit are probably better (they are certainly closer to standard vocals, which isn’t really close at all), but they’re so good here that I see no point in nitpicking.

The only three tracks I haven’t talked about yet are “Diet of Worms,” “Music Like Escaping Gas,” and “Rainforest.” These are arguably the weakest songs on the album, which is really saying something, since they are excellent drone pieces that expand on the pioneering work of the original krautrock greats. I especially point to the captivating (even though it’s extraordinarily simple and slow) guitar work on “Music Like Escaping Gas.” In the midst of the seemingly freeform, we have this one obvious element of structure, and I find I must, once again, repeat myself: “the effect is marvelous. On “Rainforest,” a bit more happens, but it is still similar in style to the previous two, building up to the amazing climax of “The Fall of Saigon.” When I listen to these four songs (including “The Fall of Saigon”), I find they tend to meld together into one, each picking up where the last left off.

When the weakest three songs on an album come one after another and still manage to captivate you completely, you know you are dealing with something special, and special is exactly the word I would use to describe This Heat’s eponymous debut. The only fault I find with this album is that the closing “Testcard” goes on for too long, but this is such a minor fault when all the actual music on the album is so perfect. I would recommend that you try some of the songs from this album and from Deceit (using e-music or Rhapsody or a similar service) and, if you like it, shelling out for the amazing box set Out of Cold Storage, which presents everything This Heat produced with the added bonus of an amazing and informative booklet. Some of the best music ever creating, hands down.

Monday, November 19, 2007

The Plastic People of the Universe - Egon Bondy's Happy Hearts Club Banned (1978)

Rating: 7.9

The Plastic People of the Universe have one of the most endearing histories of any band. They formed in 1968 after the Soviet Union invaded Czechoslovakia, taking their name from the Frank Zappa song “Plastic People” (Source: http://www.furious.com/PERFECT/pulnoc.html). Throughout their history, they had to overcome censorship and oppression, and still they managed to deliver some amazing avant-garde rock music. I have only heard Egon Bondy’s Happy Hearts Club Banned from their vast repertoire, but it is one of the most treasured albums in my collection, both for the story behind it and the music within it.

I was initially turned off from the band because I had read that they were important only because of their story, not their music. How wrong that statement was. The music on this album is stunning, full of emotion, played with more passion than most bands can muster. I’m sure this relates to their flirtation with censorship – that alone gave their music an inherent purpose that most bands have to search for – but it would be an egregious error to ignore that this is music that really lets you see into the hearts of the musicians. They poured their soul into this work, and it shows in the final result.

What we hear on the album is a mixture of post-psychedelic rock and free jazz. There are strong grooves that dominate the album, giving it a tremendous flow and an irresistible charm. Every song brings something unique to the album. We have songs like the slow, beautiful “Metro Goldwyn Mayer,” and we have songs like the upbeat closer, “Jo, To Se Ti To Spi,” not to mention all the songs that fall somewhere between those two extremes. Every song is a true gem, packed with emotion until it can’t take anymore. The technical value of the music (how difficult it is to play) doesn’t seem high, and the production is shoddy at best, but these minor faults (the first isn’t even a fault at all, really) fall by the wayside in the face of the fact that this album simply sounds good.

At this point, I really find myself running out of words for this band and album, and I don’t know why (it’s just not like me). So, to end, I will again pull from the source used earlier. “The amazing history of the Plastic People is so crucially intertwined with the history of Czechoslovakia that one can not fully understand the history of that country without knowing the history of the band, and vice versa. No other rock band has had to put up with the abuse and the obstacles that the Plastics did during their lifetime. Yet they did not plan to risk their lives for their music. As [bassist Milan] Hlavsa said, they were ‘dissidents against their will.’ Eventually, however, they came to the realization that what they were doing was historically important and their very existence through the hard times their country was experiencing was a powerful symbol of freedom to the younger generation of Czechs.”

Egon Bondy’s Happy Hearts Club Banned is a stunning cd that pleases me every time I hear it. This is an essential addition to any avant-garde prog collection, and it is accessible enough to fit in nicely into any prog collection. Highly recommended!