The “TVPs” – the indie band’s indie band. It’s incredible how such an influential group, who were formed in 1977, and whose first release was in 1978, are nonetheless, relatively, so obscure to this day. Name-checked by virtually everyone who had anything to do with the evolution of indie music in the UK as a post-punk genre in its own right, and worshipped by the likes of Stephen Pastel and Bobby Gillespie because of the integrity of their DIY ethic and superb song-craft, the band, led by singer-songwriter Dan Treacy, remain curiously and stubbornly inconspicuous, even within indie circles. It’s puzzling, but entirely appropriate, I suppose, that a band who are the very essence of what it should mean to be a successful indie band remain, relatively, unsuccessful in commercial terms. They have been described as “quite possibly the finest cult band in the UK”[1], and perhaps their lack of front page space could be down to their erratic back catalogue. Since forming in 1977, they have released only 11 studio albums, involving numerous changes in band personnel, centred on the constant figure of Treacy. (For example, their 1998 album, Don’t Cry Baby…It’s Only a Movie, was eventually followed up by 2006’s My Dark Places).

Tragically, it was reported in October 2011 that Treacy was seriously ill after an operation to remove a blood clot from his brain, and although he has subsequently regained consciousness, he has remained hospitalised. Despite this, he allegedly intends to make a return to music some day.

This song, on the band’s second release, the Where’s Bill Grundy Now? EP from 1978, is an indie anthem, and a feel-good dance floor-filler. It is, at the same time nonetheless, a seriously scathing attack on middle-class souls who viewed the punk phenomenon as a kind of opt-in/opt-out fashion choice, where image and the aesthetic, and not the music itself or the politics of it, were all-consumingly important. It’s a cracker.

[1][1] http://www.televisionpersonalities.co.uk/

Mark E. Smith’s dogged longevity as the only continuous member of The Fall since the band’s inception is the stuff of musical legend. Famously acerbic, curmudgeonly and difficult to work with, Smith formed the band after attending a Sex Pistols gig at the Manchester Free Trade Hall, in June, 1976. (Or so the story goes). The Fall’s post-punk sound is utterly unique, not least because of Smith’s recitative, declamatory vocal, sprechgesang delivery, not singing as much as weaponising the rhythm and syllables of the words in a contemptuous and nihilistic audio assault. (Imagine Johnny Rotten reading his own poetry in a North of England accent at 33 rpm, and you’re halfway there).

The Fall’s prodigious rate of album release since they were formed, (30 studio albums, and counting, as of 2017), is indeed testament not only to Smith’s longevity, but to his drive and talent. Despite this output, however, the band remain stubbornly non-mainstream, and to select any track from one of their albums to talk about therefore remains, absurdly, a relatively obscure exercise.

Two Librans comes from the album The Unutterable, released in 2000, not an album from The Fall’s back catalogue which receives a huge amount of attention. In fact, renowned music website Stereogum ranked this as only their 23^rd best album out of 30[1]. Recorded during a period when Smith rang the changes amongst The Fall’s personnel, this album, and the previous album, 1999’s The Marshall Suite, were the products of huge line-up changes, and the albums’ patchy quality reflects this lack of continuity and cohesion.  Stereogum describes The Unutterable as having only “brief flashes of decency” (Ouch). Nevertheless, one of the album’s high points, Two Librans, is mentioned by them as worthy of a listen, and indeed it is. The song is a belter, its garage-y clatter demands your attention, and although the lyrics are too cryptic for me to understand, (references to Oprah Winfrey and bee-keeping just add to the mystery of it), frankly, the band have rarely sounded better.

[1] See  http://www.stereogum.com/1731342/the-fall-albums-from-worst-to-best/franchises/counting-down/

This is my first post on my newly-created blog, celebrating the world of vinyl records. Virgin territory. Terra Infirma. An unassisted voyage to the digital North Pole. How to start…? Well, I should probably start by setting the scene, (as any good story should), and providing a bit of context. I am a fairly obsessive collector of vinyl records of multiple genres, straddling the popular, commonplace, rare, obscure, and outright weird. I began buying records in Glasgow in 1982, my first purchase being Kraftwerk’s number-one single, The Model, from the long-gone and wonderful Casa Cassettes record and tape shop on Sauchiehall St. The fact that my next two purchases, (from the equally splendid Listen record shop on Byres Rd), were Tight Fit’s The Lion Sleeps Tonight single, (I was only 14 at the time, to be fair), and The Stranglers’ Golden Brown, gives one a sense of my eclecticism of musical tastes from the get-go. And so it has continued. I have steadily amassed a big collection of LPs and singles of weird and wonderful varieties, (despite a particularly ruthless clear-out in 1989-90), enabled by expensive addictions to e-Bay and Discogs. I still crate-dig in charity shops for records, however, because quite frankly, nothing beats the serendipitous thrill of uncovering and rescuing an unappreciated, elusive and forgotten gem, gathering dust under a souvenir tray from Puerto Rico. Second-hand record shops are, of course, another potential source of acquiring records, although the number of these shops has withered dramatically in most towns and cities in the wake of the explosion in online shopping and collecting.

I now have so many records and CDs that a whole room in my house is devoted to their storage – my ultimate man-cave. I can sit in there and sonically bludgeon my ear-drums to my heart’s content, via my fairly state-of-the-art stereo, while my wife reads or watches TV at the other end of the house. I have thus far resisted calls from her to turn this room into another bathroom, (the eminently sensible thing to do, of course), which would create a mass of homeless vinyl refugees, and another, über record-cull would then have to ensue. I haven’t got the stomach for that. How big is my collection? I think (think) I have nearly 2,000 singles, around 1,500 albums and 3,000-4,000 CDs. (Although I have so many CDs, vinyl is where my heart lies). This isn’t an Alan Lomax-sized collection by any means, but it represents the evolving product of a long process of collecting, and distilling of that product through regular culls. On some sort of level, the sum of the constituent elements of my collection must say something about me, (beyond merely that I’m a bit mad), but I haven’t worked that one out yet.

So, what am I trying to do with this blog? What’s its raison d’ etre? Apart from submitting my thoughts to the vanity and self aggrandisement of the blogosphere, my idea is very simple. I want to share recordings of, and information about, records that I like, from a variety of genres, and discuss them. In doing this, there will be a bias towards more obscure or unheard-of records, although more well-known records will inevitably make an appearance. My areas of interest mainly cover punk, new wave, proto-punk, hardcore, synth-punk, 60s garage punk, post-punk, indie, shoegazer, twee, junkshop glam, bonehead crunchers, bovver rock, pub rock, 60s psychedelic, heavy psych, paisley underground, northern soul, 60s R&B, 60s mod, roots reggae, rocksteady, skinhead reggae, ska, dancehall, two-tone, blues, north hill country blues, blues boppers, surf, americana, acid house, progressive house, techno, minimal synth, industrial, dark electro, coldwave, krautrock, 50s rockabilly and rock ‘n roll, and experimental and avante-garde stuff. Like I say, eclectic. In addition, I intend this to be a forum for discussion, and for sharing of further information about the records and the artists. I will talk about the record industry. I may even write some reviews of new records. I will also prepare play-lists of songs relating to particular genres of music,  relaying what I consider to be the best or most note-worthy tracks. That’s it. It’s not intended to be a serious last word on anything, (I’m no expert), and I won’t get precious about it if someone tells me that what I’ve written is a pile of steaming crap. It’s a bit of fun really, and if it points some readers in  the direction of great records that they’ve never heard of previously, all the better.