The Fall – Hex Enduction Hour

Hex Enduction Hour

The FallHex Enduction Hour Kamera KAM 005 (1982)


If there is one Fall album that rises above a number of other really great ones, it is Hex Enduction Hour.  This came somewhat at the tail end of the early period, when they were still abrasive as hell.  The sound draws heavily from Jamaican deejay music, like Big Youth‘s Natty Cultural Dread, of all things.  There is a relentless throbbing bass line, and steady drums.  Mark E. Smith doesn’t exactly sing on top.  It’s more of a sustained, shouting rant.  Structurally, this is a lot like what the Jamaican deejays did with dub tracks.  But the similarities are mostly structural.  Craig Scanlon‘s guitar is something else entirely.  It breaks in with a cutting, shattering, noisy sound.  The rather primitive synthesizers do the same.  The band mostly just jabs at the keyboard with blocks of dissonant sounds.  Everything vamps over and again, with little melody.  This draws some further influence from krautrock bands like CAN.

“The Classical” opens the album on a high note.  It is one of The Fall’s most memorable songs. It is a rant that just gets angrier and crazier.  The instrument that gets the most space to roam is the drum kit — something that seems to anticipate the “math rock” genre.  But the nearly eight minute “Hip Priest” matches the opener, with a slow bass line and faint tapping from the drums, M.E.S. drawls on and on sarcastically about a vaguely angry unappreciated loner (with allusions to rock critics).  It is one of the most well-known Fall songs thanks to its use later on in a popular thriller/horror movie.  “Fortress/Deer Park” settles into a great groove.  There are two pulsing chords played on the keyboard that just see-saw back and forth.  Even though they are just two chords, there is a forward movement implied in the rhythm simply by holding each chord for different lengths of time.  The groove keeps rolling on the two parts of “Winter.”  Songs like “Just Step S’ways” and “Jawbone and the Air-Rifle” are catchy too.  Some of the only clear melodic statements on the entire album are found in the single-note keyboarding bridging the two parts of “Winter” and the repeating guitar line of “Just Step S’ways.”

This is music that is intelligent without ever adopting the voice of the powerful.  In other words, this is music that comes from the proletariat, freed from the sorts of things (education, religion, etc.) that bind people to the hierarchies of power.  It comes from the bottom.  Just like the band’s debut album Live at the Witch Trials, the title Hex Enduction Hour implies a kind of revolt coming from outcasts and the persecuted minority.  That point is driven home on the songs “Mere Pseud Mag. Ed.” and “Hip Priest” that rail against music journalists that hold sway over a working rock band.  This is kind of an anarchic impulse.  That Fall pull it off better than most of the bands of the day that were more explicitly “anarcho-punk” in political orientation.  The rhythmic consensus on a Fall record makes the music more organized than the freewheeling mess that so many anarcho-punk recordings seem to devolve into.

What made The Fall so great, and this album in particular, is that it takes what seems like a rather simple formula and proves it to be much more flexible, nuanced and enduring than anyone would have guessed.  It is a testament to concept having a greater role than complexity of execution.  They find ways to adopt catchy riffs and beats though the most rudimentary means, while contrasting those elements with a tremendous effort put towards the sorts of things that many other rock groups would have excised.  There is room here for stranger, less controlled expression.  In many ways the crushing rhythms and occasional melodies set up the wacky bursts and plunks of keyboard noise and the scratchy, distorted guitar chords.  Sometimes it fails.  “Who Makes the Nazis?” has an interesting lyrical premise, extending the concept of “the banality of evil,” but the song falters due to a most tedious bass line that repeats across the entire song.  But mostly, it succeeds.

In a lot of ways, The Fall represented a lot of the best of what the punk movement put forward.  This is inclusive music, drawing from all over the place.  Yet it also put forward its own standards and eschewed what was considered proper.  There was no “professionalism” here.  But there is cleverness, and there is heart.  This music rallies its supporters.  It finds the people who were meant to hear it.  Hex Enduction Hour belongs on the short list of 1980s rock achievements.

The Fall – Bend Sinister

Bend Sinister

The FallBend Sinister Beggars Banquet BEGA75 (1986)


Somewhat lesser than its predecessor This Nat-ion’s Saving Grace, due to a lack of consistency, Band Sinister finds a bit more of the vamp-driven music of the pre-Brix period reasserting itself.  The poppier style of recent years is still intact though. “Mr. Pharmacists” is a great straight rock tune with a hint of rockabilly.  “Shoulder Pads #2” has a killer beat.  This isn’t a Fall album I reach for often, but there are a few great individual tunes here.

The Fall – draGnet

draGnet

The FalldraGnet Step Forward SFLP 4 (1979)


The Fall (named after the Albert Camus book) capture the fundamental beauties of pop tunes with an abrasive attack diametrically opposed to pop’s very essence. The group was active for decades (and still is!) with countless great albums. Fans haggle over their favorite Fall album, but draGnet is indispensable for even casual fans.

Catchy songs crop up everywhere. “Your Heart Out” has an infectious guitar hook. “Flat of Angles” has a familiar riff — like in Chuck Berry’s “Come On.” Certainly, there are reference points; but where pure pop music leaves off The Fall get started. Undiluted expression reigns. The exorcism tune “Spectre vs. Rector” is an often-hailed Fall moment. Craig Scanlon (a future veteran debuting with the band) plays guitar with major echo, out of that rockabilly sensibility of his. The noise focuses the lyrical aggression. The guitar parts often mirror the rhythmic phrasing of Captain Beefheart. Yet, the Fall never succumb to gratuitous or duplicative bullshit. They are too smart to rely on mere devices — they evolve them.

Mark E. Smith heads for the edge of what a rock vocalist can do while singing but one note. At his most blunt, “Dice Man” shows Smith boasting a bit about his position on music’s front lines. Rather than exploring that edge, he dives straight off it. Something new must be better. His trademark squeaky shouts and soaring dynamics are in full-force. The lyrics on the album cover the full spectrum.  Though he doesn’t speak from academia, Smith always challenges ignorance. He may bash show business, but he still wants people to hear him (royalties or not).

Murky lo-fi production combined with Smith’s aggressive lyrics make draGnet the most abrasive album in the group’s catalog (it sounds like they recorded in a warehouse with just one mic in a metal bucket 5 feet from the drum kit). At times, it is also the simplest. A heavy helping of paranoia (“A Figure Walks”) pushes everything forward. It takes time to decipher the convoluted rants but The Fall are worth the effort. Did Smith derive the title “When the Moon Falls” from a Peanuts comic as the album jacket suggests? draGnet sets out the basic impetus behind the Fall. It demystifies their madness a bit, but what they reveal is more brilliant than you might expect.

This isn’t the kind of album just anyone will like (or tolerate). It is a harrowing journey to the extreme. Not every moment is perfect, but The Fall, as always, were at their best in uncharted territory.

The Fall – This Nat-ion’s Saving Grace

This Nat-ion's Saving Grace

The FallThis Nat-ion’s Saving Grace Beggar’s Banquet BEGA 67 (1985)


Hex Enduction Hour may always be The Fall’s crowning achievement, but This Nation’s Saving Grace is certainly another great piece of work. Irreverent and intellectual, The Fall symbolize the golden age of underground rock ‘n’ roll in the 1980s. For better or worse, many alternative rock bands duplicated this sound time and again over the next decade.

Mark E. Smith was the bearer of sophrosyne in the vanguard of rock. He deployed it with his knack for mockery. This Nation’s Saving Grace has a racket of guitars with some lyrical twang, but also a strong sense of timing and texture. The Fall clearly had arrived at a different sound than their early period. M.E.S.’s then-wife Brix has her pop melodies keeping the album accessible by The Fall’s standards at least.

The very idea of The Fall selling out is laughable. This is no generic pop record. This Nation’s Saving Grace is syncopated social discord–no respect for tradition here. It still manages to be catchy. “Spoilt Victorian Child” is enough to convert the heathens as it discredits their ways. The long-term dangers of hiding behind wealth seem easily avoidable. “Gut of the Quantifier” also takes aim at class economics with M.E.S.’s nonacademic wit.

The CAN-influenced numbers like “Paintwork,” “My New House,” the nearly instrumental “L.A.” and of course “I Am Damo Suzuki” show the profound aspects of change during the Brix period.   This band sounded completely different from the one that recorded Hex Enduction Hour. M.E.S. wasn’t guiding the band’s every motion anymore.

Much was rumbling here. The intense new rhythms hardly relied on the drums at all. The bass throbs and the guitars slash across all sides of the beat to establish unique (generally) non-African-based polyrhythms. The Fall as a whole band, apart from just M.E.S., never sounded as good. The cassette release had four songs in addition to those on the LP version, and the CD re-release added two more.   One of the best songs, “Cruiser’s Creek,” showed up only on CD.

“Paintwork” is the point of departure for bohemian indie rock in the Eighties. M.E.S. drifts past the warm personal eccentricities of The Beach Boys‘ “Busy Doin’ Nothin’” and “Whistle In” as the recording is interrupted (CAN-style) with overdubs of random environmental noise. He still avoids the complacency the anti-establishment sometimes falls into.

Far more consistent than its predecessor The Wonderful and Frightening World of. . . , This Nation’s Saving Grace has The Fall challenging their routine. So if you haven’t heard The Fall yet you might start here, now.

David Bowie – Hunky Dory

Hunky Dory

David BowieHunky Dory RCA Victor SF 8244 (1971)


Hunky Dory is the album where Bowie started to really show some promise.  There are a lot of classic songs: “Changes,” “Oh! You Pretty Things,” “Life on Mars?,” “Queen Bitch.”  With “Eight Line Poem” (and even “The Bewlay Brothers”) he manages to channel The Velvet Underground‘s Loaded, but pushes the Velvets’ underground rock toward something a little more pop friendly.  However, Bowie keeps one foot firmly planted in routine British folk-rock for much of the middle part of the album and it becomes tiresome quickly.  Ziggy Stardust twisted the folk sensibilities a bit more, by adding rock opera to the mix.  In a more straightforward folk-rock setting he is underwhelming.  This is a very decent album, but don’t believe the claims it is Bowie’s best.

Beck – Mellow Gold

Mellow Gold

BeckMellow Gold DGC DGCD-24634 (1994)


I can see why people love this, and love Beck.  But I don’t love this album.  From my first listen I found it mediocre, and 20 years on it doesn’t particularly impress me.  There are two good songs: “Loser” and “Beercan”.  In fact, “Loser” is great.  The rest?  Well, you can certainly look at this as an achievement in eclecticism.  Immediately following the rock/hip-hop hybrid that is the opener “Loser,” Beck turns to a sort of rudimentary Bob Dylan parody in “Pay No Mind (Snoozer)”.  Elsewhere, he’s channeling The Beastie Boys.  And he hits other points in between.  The eclecticism is sort of amusing.  But Beck isn’t a very strong lyricist at this stage.  But that isn’t why this album was popular.  Aside from the hit “Loser,” this manages to make good use of the studio to make weak songs sound a hell of a lot more interesting than they should.  But also this album was something of a signifier of a larger trend when the “big boys” at major labels were willing to acknowledge and promote music that was a lot more juvenile than what they normally promoted.  Make no mistake, Beck was quite juvenile in ’94.  This was the same era that produced movies like Clerks (1994), catering to kinda immature teenagers who didn’t usually see a whole lot of widely available (read: non-underground) entertainment directed toward them.  Beck was able to ride that wave, and he is sort of a poster child for that phenomenon of the “alternative rock” era, the dopier, funnier counterpart to the serious “artiste” figures like Kurt Cobain of Nirvana.

Les Claypool – Of Whales and Woe

Of Whales and Woe

Les ClaypoolOf Whales and Woe Prawn Song 0011 (2006)


This solo offering from Les Claypool has a lot in common with nearly any Bootsy Collins album you might choose.  It’s a collection of meandering jams, noodling around heavy bass riffs that just sort of repeat ad infinitum.  The instrumentation leans toward, well, exotica, employed merely for novelty effect. But what places the album above the ramblings of an overly-ambitous local band are the stellar production values.  I don’t mean to slam this album.  It’s enjoyable to a degree.  But I don’t expect to give this more than one listen.

Black Flag – My War

My War

Black FlagMy War SST 023 (1984)


So much ANGST!!!!!  Fans divide over the legacy of the mighty Black Flag.  Pioneers of the 1970s and 80s California underground, they went through personnel changes and stylistics shifts through the years.

On the one hand, you have those who say “Stop after The First Four Years.”  Those were the early hardcore years.  Black Flag played fast, loud and snotty.  They were often pretty funny too.  Vocalists Keith Morris and then Chavo Pederast took the mic in the early years.  The thing about those early days was that the Flag was very balanced.  Founding guitarist Greg Ginn was the reclusive introvert, the enigmatic wizard behind the band’s totally unique approach to punk rock.  Hey, maybe the music should matter more than the clothes!  Confrontational and contrarian, the band leavened those elements with the wild, lackadaisical efforts of the vocalists, singing blunt lyrics so often drenched with monochromatic irony.  Bassist Chuck Dukowski, the outgoing, confrontational clown of the band, was in some respects the polar opposite of Ginn.  All together, they came up with a few devastating recordings of the likes of “Nervous Breakdown” and “Jealous Again”.  Not everybody got the jokes, like “White Minority.”  But fuck those people, seriously.  You could see the Flag as an extension of punk.  They were just the new product of a different central California culture.

When Dez Cadena took over vocals for a while, something kind of changed.  Cadena was a pretty weak vocalist.  He belted out a kind of gutteral howl.  That was about all he could do though.  The band was still kind of funny (“Louie, Louie”), but they kind of took on a more serious overtone too.  They were growing, but they suffered from growing pains.

Then you have the Rollins years.  Henry Rollins came along, by chance almost, mid-tour while Black Flag played the East Coast, and filled the void on vocals after Cadena focused on playing guitar.  Rollins came to an established band as a fan, a kid no less.  Rollins brought a much deeper vocal palate to bear.  Yeah, sure, it was all angst, but it was a deeper and more nuanced range of angst than the previous vocalists could deliver.  There is no shortage of Henry-haters.  Was he pretentious?  Maybe.  He started off as just a ball of pure enthusiasm.  As he grew older, a macho streak developed and he inserted a lot of “poetry” into the music.  But for a time he was just performing the songs written and developed by the existing band, for the most part. My War was the second full-length album from the Henry-era band.  The first with Henry was Damaged, which was and remains the band’s greatest achievement.  It’s a bombshell.  Great songs are everywhere and it never lets up, mostly fast and furious but with the fiercely sludgy closer “Damaged I” like a brick wall at the end of the line.

After all sorts of legal hassles surrounding the release of Damaged, and two of the band members doing a little jail time for surreptitiously releasing Everything Went Black against a court order in the unruly aftermath.  But by 1984 the band was clear of its legal troubles enough to release new records again, and they did so with no less than four full-length albums that year.  My War was the first of the new crop.  It opens with the departed (er, booted) Dukowski’s title track, a seething cauldron of paranoia and rage, followed by the driving “Can’t Decide” coupled with another Dukowski number “I Love You” plus “Forever Time” and “The Swinging Man,” providing a relatively brisk pace for the first side of the LP.  Side two just grinds to almost a halt with the achingly slooooow “Nothing Left Inside.”  What, “Damaged I” no fluke?  Hell no.  This was the new sound of Black Flag.  The second side of the album continues to ooze forward and the same crushingly slow amble.  Henry hits his stride with curdling screams.  All through the record he thrashes about and rips apart every bit of the lyrics, which are usually pretty blunt.  Yet he manages to convey that there is something deeper to what seems so simple and crude.  He does a lot with very little.  He had a lot of charisma.  Greg Ginn plays like crazy.  He’s also on bass under the alias Dale Nixon.

The “early years” crowd often points to My War as the nadir of the band.  Many can’t stand it.  Others look at it as simply flawed.  But there are also a lot of real, dedicated Black Flag fans out there (this writer included) who come to this album more than the others.  It’s got the most extreme elements of of what Black Flag had to offer all in one place.  There aren’t the funny songs, but you can listen to those too, just elsewhere!

My War can be summed up in a sentence, by RateYourMusic reviewer bnoring, “Side one slaps you, while side two drowns you.”

The fragile mix in place for My War didn’t last all that long.  It was only a few years later that the slightly older Rollins kind of withdrew from his involvement within the band’s interpersonal matrix and Ginn got distracted running the then rapidly expanding SST Records label.  It did hold together here, though, well enough.

Black Flag might be said to represent the best of what punk ever had to offer.  They were inclusive yet confrontational, they drew in influences that seemed the antithesis of what “simple” punk rock was allegedly about (hippie rock like The Grateful Dead and modern jazz).  Through sheer determination they built up a following on their own, from nothing at all.  My War was a kind of transformation that kept the brilliance of their music alive by rethinking its makeup.  Sure, there were inklings early on that Black Flag took inspiration from the likes of Black Sabbath, but the context for how that was expressed radically changed in 1984.  If Black Flag once prided themselves on playing more intricate music than typical three-chord punk, then playing at a pace so achingly slow you cannot ignore it is a new angle.  In a way, it put the concept behind the music in the forefront.  Years later, the band was more insular, not so much rethinking its purpose but trying to refine it in a reductionist sense.  They still rocked but it kind of wound down.  Glory in the wonderful, liberating and fleeting possibilities that My War presented every time you listen.  Maybe Black Flag didn’t carry the torch themselves later on.  Others did.  But what shouldn’t be forgotten is that others wouldn’t have carried it so far or with such purpose without Black Flag being there already.  Part of that was because Black Flag refused to give their fans what they expected.  That kind of willful alienation is often at the heart of something special.  This is sinister motivational music.

Black Flag – The Complete 1982 Demos Plus More!

The Complete 1982 Demos Plus More!

Black FlagThe Complete 1982 Demos Plus More! Manson 003 (1996)


When fans talk about Black Flag and long for the early years, I kind of tune out.  Don’t get me wrong, the early years produced some great music (“Nervous Breakdown,” “Jealous Again,” etc.).  But for me, Damaged and the slew of 1984 albums represented the band at its peak.  Damaged, My War and Live ’84 are my favorites, and among the best rock the 1980s had to offer, in my opinion.  The bootleg The Complete 1982 Demos Plus More! presents recordings from the time when everything went black, and legal issues prevented them from releasing any recordings (Greg Ginn tried, in fact, but ended up in jail briefly for doing so).  These are lo-fi demos, no doubt.  But there are things to like.  For instance, it helps that there are no stupid, uh, “sound effects” on “Slip It In”, but it would still sound better as an instrumental.  The tempos aren’t nearly as lethargic and sludgy as on My War, which makes this somewhat more forgettable and generic sounding.  Henry Rollins‘ singing is much less effective here than on the studio recordings that saw formal release.  So, to sum up my feelings about this, I would have to say that if you took my favorite Black Flag albums and took away many of my favorite aspects, you would end up with something like this.  To me, that’s a dumb proposition, but I’m still glad to hear more Flag so I won’t complain too loudly.