Post Punk Redux

Y by the Pop Group

While recovering from strep throat this week, I re-read “Rip It Up And Start Again”, the history of (mostly English) post-punk from 1978-1984 by Simon Reynolds.  Reynolds, an Englishman who grew up in that era and who was clearly a fan of the music, is a former senior editor at Spin.  This book, though not without some faults, is an excellent documentation of some of the many bands that sprouted up in the wake of the initial punk explosion of ‘76/’77.  Reynolds successfully walks a fine line between didactic (the book is extremely comprehensive and well researched) and entertaining and I highly recommend this book to anyone who is interested in this captivating period of music.  As mentioned in a previous post, much contemporary music is influenced by work of bands from this era, so its interesting to learn more about these bands.

One of the interesting things that Reynolds points out in this book is that punk rock music represented a musical dead—once you’ve stripped things down to 2-3 chords and 2 minute songs, there’s really nowhere else to go.  Also, lyrically punk’s most famous cry was that there was “no future”, but in many ways this was empty nihilism—clearly there WAS a future, and it became the goal of post-punk to discover and create that future musically speaking. 

One of the major ways in which postpunk moved forward with this goal was by merging the energy and emotion of punk with other genres of music.  Reggae was an early such influence on punk; John Lydon of the Pistols was a huge dub reggae fan, while the Clash covered Junior Murvin’s “Police & Thieves” on their first album.  The Slits were one of the first white punk bands to record in an almost exclusively dub/reggae style; “So Tough” and “Typical Girls” off their first album Cut has the syncopated rhythms, echo-y dub feel and sing-song vocals of classic reggae.    Meanwhile, other postpunk groups sought to add elements of funk, American R&B, Northern soul, Krautrock, and even prog rock and disco to the mix.  The latter two might seem like blasphemy to hardline punks, since these were musical genres often thought to represent an opposition to punk’s energy and simplicity and authenticity, but if punk is REALLY an attitude of rebellion and contrariness, then what could be more rebellious and contrary than trying to make a disco punk song?

The Pop Group, hailing from Bristol, were among the first groups mixing a heavy funk element into the punk mix.  Their music is not easy listening—it mixes funk, prog, and punk in a mish mash that’s often atonal and strident.  “She is Beyond Good and Evil” and “Thief of Fire”, off their debut album Y, are characterized by singer Mark Stewart’s yowling vocals (which fall somewhere midway between Tom Verlaine’s in Television and Sting’s in the Police) backed by staccato clips of funky guitar and bass.  After the breakup of the Pop Group, bass player Simon Underwood would join Pigbag, who’s one hit, the immensely James Brown-influenced “Papa’s Got a Brand New Pigbag” was a top 10 hit in England in 1981.

Swell Maps made equally difficult music, in this case combining the intensity of punk with the more strident aspects of Krautrock.  “Read About Seymour”, their first single, is available on YouTube and starts simply but ends in squalls of noise.  “Vertical Slum”, off their debut album A Trip to Marinesville, has a simple punky under-structure to which electronic noise and chanted backing vocals add a sense of chaos.

The use of electronics was another hallmark of postpunk, and the seeds of such future genres as industrial and electronica can be traced to this period.  An early pioneer was Thomas Leer, whose single “Private Plane” is one of the first postpunk songs to be created almost entirely from synthesized sounds; its influence on Gary Numan and his band Tubeway Army can’t be over-emphasized.  London’s 23 Skidoo created ominous soundscapes of tense, throbbing bass and samples vocals; “Porno Base” off their 1982 album Seven Songs is particularly scary sounding.  This is clearly the missing link between “We Hate You Little Girls” by Throbbing Gristle and “22 going on 23” by the Butthole Surfers.  Sheffield’s Clock DVA created proto-techno that owes more to Cabaret Voltaire; “Smokescreen”, which is on the Industrial Revolution Third Edition compilation on iTunes, reminds me of “Sensoria” by Cab Volt.  A Certain Ratio occupies an uneasy middle ground between the industrial noise of Throbbing Gristle and the dance techno of Cabaret Voltaire; “Forced Laugh” from their 1981 album “To Each . . .” has an ominous bass line that sounds a little like that of Nirvana’s “Come As You Are” combined with swirling, ominous electronic noise and occasional horn-like bursts of electronic honking.  The Normal was the name taken by Daniel Miller, founder of Mute Records; his 1978 single “Warm Leatherette” was a tribute to the car crash erotica of JG Ballard and features a repeating electronic skirl married to Miller’s emotionless, robotic voice.  The Passage sounds like a cross between the Normal and Joy Division, with Dick Witt’s vocals veering toward the stentorian baritone of Joy Division’s Ian Curtis at times, particularly on “Dark Times” from their second album For All and None (it and their first album Pindrop are both available on iTunes).  This music has a dark, foreboding timbre to it.

Speaking of Joy Division, Edinburgh’s Josef K made music that also captures the angular, anxiety-ridden feel of this legendary band.  A compilation album of singles, a Peel session, and some other unreleased material, Entomology, is available on iTunes.  I particularly like “Radio Drill Time”, which has a strident, repetitive guitar riff married to drab vocals and calls to mind “No Love Lost” by Joy Division.  “Sorry For Laughing” is more up-tempo and sounds more like their colleagues Orange Juice.

Another Scottish postpunk band that explored a sound that was more soulful and pop-oriented like that of Orange Juice was the Fire Engines.  iTunes has the compilation Hungry Beat, which contains several excellent offerings, most notably “Candyskin”, which has a plucky simplicity that makes it almost sound like one of the Velvet Underground’s more introspective pop-oriented efforts.  “Get Up and Use Me” sounds like a cross between the twitchy No Wave funk of James Chance and the Contortions and the guitar meanderings of Television.

Young Marble Giants, from Cardiff, Wales, was yet another band making quirky, edgy postpunk pop in the early 80’s.  They made simple, elegant songs structured around the sweet voice of female vocalist Alison Statton.  Their sole album, 1981’s Colossal Youth, is on iTunes as an extended compilation of their other singles.  “Searching for Mr. Right” has a very stripped down and spare sound, with a simple, repeating rhythmic electronic twitch, dabs of bass, and Statton’s calm vocals; it and a Peel session outtake, “Final Day”, remind me of Suzanne Vega’s “Tom’s Diner” in their simplicity and sparseness.  Similarly, the Durutti Column make repetitive but sweet piano-centered music that seems like it might be a precursor to the stuff the Jesus and Mary Chain made later in the 80’s.  I haven’t explored DC as much as I want to, but I did find “The Missing Boy” off their second album LC on YouTube (several of their later albums are also available on iTunes) and I like what I hear so far.  “Response”, of 1983’s Another Setting, has the interlocking, repetitive cadences of Terry Riley or Steve Reich’s avante-garde minimalism.