Showing posts with label Suggs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Suggs. Show all posts

Saturday, February 22, 2020

Duff Book Review: "Before We Was We: Madness by Madness"

The cover of Madness' book features all the members of the band posing with their instruments in their rehearsal room and smiling for the camera.Virgin Books
Hardcover
2019

(Review by Steve Shafer)

I remember when I first split open the cellophane on my original copy of Madness' One Step Beyond... LP and being struck by all the strips of photo booth pictures printed on the inner sleeve of what I assumed were people--kids, really--from the band's circle of friends (who were these guys with nicknames like Prince Nutty, Totts, Whets, Chalky, and Toks?). There was something so wonderfully normal and non-rockstar-ish and authentic about it all. But it also spoke to an insider-ness, of being in on the joke that--in addition to their unapologetic working class Britishness--was somewhat inaccessible and foreign (in the sense of unfamiliar, without reference points) to this suburban American kid. They were these small mysteries about Madness that I would never understand--you had to be part of their gang to get them.

And gang really is the right word here. A good portion of Before We Was We: Madness by Madness consists of inseparable childhood friends Mike "Barso" Barson, Lee "Kix" or "Thommo" Thompson, and Chris "Chrissy Boy" Foreman recounting their wild (and sometimes wildly dangerous) teenage exploits together, many of which involved petty crime (successful techniques are shared): breaking into laundry, phone, or heater coin boxes; sneaking into movies like "A Clockwork Orange" and concerts by Roxy Music and Ian Dury's Kilburn and the High Roads (often by climbing up the sides of buildings via drainpipes to enter an open window or another access point on the roof); shoplifting clothes and records (Barson says he accumulated over 300 LPs without ever having bought one--and his mum never asked how this came to be) and almost anything else not bolted down (in one hair-raising episode, Thompson poses as mannequin in a shop window to avoid being nabbed by the cops); and joyriding on the occasional, ahem, "borrowed" scooter. There also was a lot of jumping on the freight or "goods" trains that cut through their then still Blitz-ravaged north London Camden Town and Kentish Town neighborhoods (dotted with bomb craters and bombed-out buildings), a bit of boot boy street violence, and lot of spray-painting their graffiti tags in highly visible spots that helped them gain some notoriety among their peers. (Mark "Bedders" Bedford, Graham "Suggs" McPherson, Dan "Woody" Woodgate, and Cathal "Chas Smash" Smyth were drawn into their orbit later through these exploits and then their pre-Madness band The Invaders; they, of course, share their stories, too.)

As you might imagine, there are a lot of great tales, very well-told in Before We Was We: Madness by Madness. It's a phenomenal, wonderfully compelling, and completely enjoyable oral history of the band that conveys their individual and collective stories from birth through the recording of Madness' debut album, their first three smash hit singles ("The Prince," "One Step Beyond," and "My Girl"), and Madness' inaugural tour of America in 1980 (where they encounter and go ga-ga for the Go-Gos, as do several of the other 2 Tone bands who venture to the USA)--and is an essential component of 2 Tone history (to go along with Daniel Rachel's Walls Come Tumbling Down, Paul Williams' You're Wondering Now, and Pauline Black's and Ranking Roger's respective autobiographies).

Through all of these anecdotes, the reader comes to know (and love) this group of brilliantly funny, whip-smart, thrill-seeking, talented, and raffishly charming young men from working-class families with mostly absent fathers and almost nil adult supervision, and marvel at their improbable rise from almost Dickensian origins to become one of the most successful British pop acts ever (releasing twenty Top 20 singles and selling over 6 million singles during the 1980s alone). And they share their keen awareness that giving The Invaders/Madness a go came at a point in their lives when their only other options were looking more and more like prison (the punishment for their crimes was becoming more serious as they entered adulthood, as Barson came to realize) or soul-crushing, dead-end jobs (Suggs recalls a point early on when he wasn't taking the band seriously and was let go--and then being in the audience for one of their shows and realizing that he had to do anything he could to get back in it, as it was the only thing worth doing in his life).

Mike Barson, in particular, emerged as the driving force behind the band, pushing everyone to their fullest potential, and has the best insight as to why they had spent so much of their teen years in pursuit of illicit and sometimes life-threatening kicks (all of which was eventually channeled into the band): "For us, there was some sort of quest to find something special, or something exciting. There was obviously something psychological about it. I mean, we all came from broken families, pretty much. So probably that ties in with wanting to be special and wanting to be something different."

Like Patti Smith's portrayal of a long-gone NYC gone to seed in the '60s and '70s in Just KidsBefore We Was We captures a London that no longer exists--and is almost unimaginable now--where you could get by on next to nothing, which gave one the opportunity and space to create, take risks, and hone your art along with a host of other artists, musicians, and writers, each trying to do their own unique thing. So much of what took place in their formative years, the extraordinary freedom they had coupled with their adventurousness (they rode freight trains across England and France), a drive to experience something new, and fear of being merely ordinary--all of which shaped what became the minor miracle of Madness--seems like something unattainable in our helicopter parent, surveillance state, personal brand/social media-obsessed, predatory-capitalist/monopolistic, lowest common denominator mass media age.

After you read Before We Was We: Madness by Madness, definitely make sure to break out your copy of One Step Beyond... With all of this new background on the band and fuller context for many of their original songs on their debut album (like "Bed and Breakfast Man," "Land of Hope and Glory," "In the Middle of the Night," etc.), you're likely to find that it's a richer listening experience, and that some of the tracks are now more profound. And maybe you'll even be able to imagine that you're just a bit closer to being a part of Madness' gang.

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Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Suggs Interviewed in MOJO Magazine!

There's a fantastic four-page interview with Madness' Suggs by Ian Harrison in the March 2017 issue of MOJO Magazine with The Kinks' Ray Davies on the cover. The occasion is to help promote Madness' excellent 11th album, Can't Touch Us Now (which The Duff Guide to Ska has reviewed, if you didn't know), but the interview is quite wide-ranging, covering much of the band's--and Suggs'--career.

Here are some choice bits:

Ian Harrison: "Presently, there was Britpop, an arguably Madness-indebted notion."

Suggs: "I was a bit sort of jealous to be honest. 'Cos I remember being around in Camden Town and seeing Oasis and Blur and Menswear and fucking whoever, and thinking, 'Why aren't we in this frame?' Obviously forgetting that we weren't 19 anymore. But I remember Ian Dury being a bit malevolent about us, that we were nicking his shtick. What you should be is flattered."

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Suggs: "With Morrissey, Clive [Langer] was producing him, and he wanted someone to be a bit Cockney and talk about Piccadilly. I think he wanted to meet me and Cathal [Smyth, Madness co-vocalist], especially. So we went up to sing some backing tracks and had a very bizarre weekend at this residential studio. Someone said, 'Oh Morrissey wants to have a word,' so I knock on the door and there's this tap-tap-tap. I open the door and he's walking round with sunglasses and a blind stick. Did he explain himself? Of course not. Never dull with Morrissey!"

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Ian Harrison: "But you are, in the lineage of The Kinks, the Small Faces and Ian Dury, avatars of British pop exceptionalism..."

Suggs: "Yeah--'quintessentially.' I don't mind that we sound like we're from London. I like how the Buena Vista Social Club sound like they come form Havana or Bob Marley sounds like he's from Jamaica. I think the fact that it wasn't intelligentsia-ised resonates with the general public, too--you were either jumping up and down and getting into it or you weren't. I was thinking of the under-cultures--the skinheads, the Mods, and the suedeheads, the Northern soul thing... even John Peel said he'd never heard reggae before the mid-'70s; he just thought it was for yobbos having punch-ups in discos. I felt part of that firmament. It might have had huge social importance, but that wasn't the point."

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In this issue, there's also a great review by David Katz of the reissue of Keith Hudson's Pick A Dub.

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Friday, October 30, 2015

Duff Review: Radio Riddler and UB40 featuring Ali Campbell, Astro, and Mickey Virtue at NYC's Webster Hall on 10/28/15

Also known as the old Ritz, the first venue UB40 ever played in NYC.
(By Steve Shafer)

Based on my experience seeing the other version of UB40 at BB King's a few years ago (read The Duff Guide to Ska review of that show here), my expectation was that the crowd for the UB40 featuring Ali, Astro, and Mickey gig at Webster Hall earlier this week would have been filled mostly with forty-something, former-WLIR listeners like myself (that legendary, Long Island-based new wave station gave UB40 an extraordinary amount of support and airplay during the first half of the 1980s, creating a huge and loyal fan-base for them in NYC and its suburbs). And I certainly didn't think the show would be sold out. But when my good friend Adam Monkey and I made our way up to the Grand Ballroom (capacity 1,500), we found ourselves in a sea of people of all ages--shiny twenty year-olds to more weathered fans in their 40s and 50s, who--back in the day--had seen the intact UB40 performing every summer at the outdoor Miller High Life Concerts on Pier 84 on the Hudson River. There were also a fair number of British expats--I ran into a bunch of them at the bar and talked to a few next to me in the audience (at one point, I smelled something burning and was looking all around me for the source; the older Brit in back of me told me that I should expect a lot of smoking at a UB40 concert--I smiled and replied that I was used to that, but thought I had smelled someone's hair on fire).

I was eager to see openers Radio Ridder, who were said to be performing their reggae version of Prince's Purple Rain. Their take on that iconic album, Purple Reggae, is pretty phenomenal (read The Duff Guide to Ska review of Purple Reggae here) and fans apparently have been loving it on this tour--RR Frank Benbini noted from the stage that they'd already sold out of CDs halfway through the tour, as he threw the last few promo copies out to the fans (he also commented that Prince had been pretty pissed-off when he found out about their project and had received many pointed phone calls from his lawyer). Radio Riddler played six songs off the album--"Let's Go Crazy," "Take Me With You," "I Would Die 4 U," "Purple Rain" (videos of these are below), "Darling Nikki," and "When Doves Cry." All were really good to great (their extended rendition of "When Doves Cry" was the highlight of their set--I wished I had videotaped it for you!) and they were enthusiastically received by the audience. I have to admit to being a little disappointed that Radio Riddler didn't surprise us with any special guest singers (their album features appearances by Suggs from Madness, Sinead O'Connor, and others, including Ali Campbell on "Purple Rain"--I'm not sure why he didn't grace the stage for at least part of this song; the place would have exploded) and they used backing, pre-recorded tracks throughout (there was no drummer or bass player). I realize that economic factors are in play for opening acts, but a full band would have given Radio Riddler's set even more power, drive, and urgency. Having said all that, I really enjoyed their set and whole-heartedly recommend catching them if they come your way.









I'll admit to losing UB40's thread after Rat in Mi Kitchen (which is one of my favorite UB40 albums), when they released all of those Labor of Love compilations during the 1990s. They recaptured my attention years later with their excellent Who You Fighting For? (2005) and Twentyfourseven (2008) albums (where they re-engaged with the world and wrote/recorded several sharply political songs). So, it was a bit of a shock when these groups of young women near me (and throughout the venue) started screaming the second Ali Campbell stepped up to the mic. And then they continued to sing along loudly and happily to song after song. That's when it dawned on me that this version of UB40 was going to be focused on delivering their pop cover hits (indeed, a great deal of their set was drawn from 1989's massive-seller, Labor of Love II--and the album they're promoting on this tour is a Greatest Hits Live compilation), instead of their stellar original, and oftentimes sharply political, tracks. But pop songs or not, the Ali/Astro/Mickey iteration of UB40 (expertly backed by a full band and horn section, including a back-up singer who looked like Dr. Ring Ding and a sax player who reminded me of The Beat's Saxa!) packed a considerable punch and put on one hell of a fun show for the grooving, sweaty masses. Their set included fan (and commercial radio) favorites (Al Green's) "Here I Am (Come and Take Me)," (The Chi-Lites') "Homely Girl," (The Paragon's) "Wear You to the Ball," (John Holt's version of Shep and the Limelite's) "Stick by Me," (Lord Creator's) "Kingston Town," (Smokey Robinson's) "The Way You Do The Things You Do," (Charles and Eddie's) "Would I Lie To You?," (Eric Donaldson's) "Cherry Oh Baby," and (Boy Friday's) "Version Girl."

They also played several great songs off Ali's 2014 album Silhouettewhich he recorded with Astro and Mickey: (a fantastic arrangement of Lionel Ritchie's tribute to Marvin Gaye sung by Diana Ross) "Missing You," (Dennis Brown's super version of The Rays') "Silhouette" (which I though was "cigarette"!), and Astro's "Cyber Bully Boys," which apparently is about the guys in the other UB40. The only time they reached deep into their back-catalogue was for brilliant renditions of two outstanding originals: "Rat in Mi Kitchen" (which I haven't see them do live since, gulp, 1985!) and the ferocious anti-Thatcher indictment, "One in Ten" (videos are below; sorry about the poor sound--it wasn't great in the venue).

An hour-and-a-half into their set, we had to jet--it was a work night and I don't exactly bounce back from a night of drinking beer like I used to--but the band and fans were still going strong (and UB40 hadn't played "Red Red Wine" yet). I really enjoyed their show, but wished that they had dialed back the number of (admittedly popular) covers in favor of more of their original material. Yet, they had given the people what they wanted. It was an evening for reveling in familiar and treasured reggae pop songs--and everyone had a blast. And I have to remind the contrarian in me that there's nothing wrong with that.







Monday, August 24, 2015

Duff Review: Julien Temple's Madness Film "The Liberty of Norton Folgate"

(Review by Steve Shafer)

As part of its "Sound and Vision 2015" series, the Film Society of Lincoln Center screened two ska-themed films on August 3, 2015: Brad Klein's "Legends of Ska: Cool and Copasetic" and Julien Temple's Madness concert film "The Liberty of Norton Folgate" (Temple, of course, is responsible for "The Great Rock'n'Roll Swindle," "The Filth and the Fury," and "The Future is Unwritten," amongst other music-related movies.) While I wasn't able to to attend "Legends of Ska," I was lucky to have caught the amazing "The Liberty of Norton Folgate," which was shown later that evening. When I arrived in the theatre lobby, there was still a big crowd talking and taking pictures with reggae percussionist Larry McDonald (Carlos Malcolm, Toots and the Maytals, The Skatalites, Gil Scott-Heron, Peter Tosh) and reggae producer Clive Chin (Augustus Pablo, Lee Perry, Black Uhuru, Dennis Brown, Junior Byles)--and director Brad Klein was chatting up fans while signing "Legends of Ska" posters (after "Legends of Ska," there had been a Q and A session with Klein and McDonald).

Word of mouth, largely via a grassroots Facebook campaign of sorts amongst NYC ska fans, had effectively promoted "Legends of Ska" (it's how I learned of the screening). But there had been practically no publicity for either film in the local mainstream press--I accidentally discovered "The Liberty of Norton Folgate" screening on the FSLC website while looking for "Legends of Ska." (A quick Google search resulted in practically no listings in the local press for these films or this series.) There are probably thousands of Madness fans in the NYC metro area--but it appears that there was no significant effort to reach out to them. There were only six or seven people--including my son and me--in the theatre for "The Liberty of Norton Folgate." And that was a real shame; this excellent movie deserved a much bigger audience for what must have been its New York City (or even American?) premiere.

"The Liberty of Norton Folgate" captures Madness performing its phenomenal concept album of the same name at The Hackney Empire in 2009. It's kind of heady stuff, but it's vital to have an understanding of the album before delving in to the film. Here's what I wrote about the theme of The Liberty of Norton Folgate a few years ago for Ready Steady Ska:
"Just as New York City’s incredible diversity and social/political liberal traditions came about due to the fact that she was the point of entry for successive waves of immigrants for decades, the liberty that people enjoyed for centuries in Norton Folgate is due to the history of its unique geographical place. 
The Liberty of Norton Folgate is, as Suggs writes in his extensive liner notes for the album, "a travel song in one place…about one small area of London—gets the x-ray camera out and shoots down through the crust, past the bullets and bones, the clay pipes and stones to try and get to the soul of the place." It focuses on an area that sprang up outside the old London city walls (originally a garbage dump) in the 1100s that first served as a point of entry for immigrants and outsiders. It eventually developed into an unofficial town with its own laws and conventions apart from those of London proper. By the 1700s, London had encompassed Norton Folgate, but it remained independent of London (hence, "the liberty of"), run by a group of trustees, and was home to generations of immigrants, as well as a "refuge for actors, writers, thinkers, louts, lowlifes and libertines, outsiders and troublemakers all," in Suggs’ words. 
Norton Folgate was a place that fostered freedom, diversity, and tolerance despite—or more likely because—its reputation as a place of ill repute. It was society’s receptacle for outsiders. And at that point proper London society couldn’t be bothered with enforcing its conventions on Norton Folgate’s citizens. This is what fascinated Suggs and the band—that "certain areas seem to retain their distinct personality through centuries of time and the passing of generations’ different peoples.""
During the concert, to help provide both a taste of, and connection to, Norton Folgate's past (The Hackney Empire, a music hall theatre built in 1901, is located near Norton Folgate, which is now part of the Stepney neighborhood of London)--and to emphasize how a place's history influences the present day residents of the area--actors in 19th century garb were present throughout the theatre as Victorian-era music hall performers (the British equivalent of American vaudeville or burlesque performers). At first, they're heckling the band and audience between songs, but gradually they're integrated into Madness' performance, so that by the time Madness plays the song "The Liberty of Norton Folgate," one of them is playing the bass drum, many of them are dancing on stage with the band, etc. (It's important to note that throughout their career, Madness have incorporated elements of the British working class music hall into their songs and performances--and for this concert they're overtly displaying their connection to that tradition.)

In addition, Suggs and Carl (AKA Chas Smash, born Cathal Smyth) introduce each song through these strange, amusing, sometimes cryptic, and highly theatrical spoken-word bits (written by Smyth) that evoke the London of William Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe, then Karl Marx and Jack the Ripper, and were shot in various spots in Norton Folgate at night (though this Yank would have preferred a more straight-up tour of the neighborhood and the significance of its history; I felt like I missed many of the things they alluded to). Indeed, there is a heavy emphasis on connecting everything to the neighborhood--some of the concert footage was projected on various structures near The Hackney Empire and footage of that was edited into the final film; it's as if they're suggesting that the music from this album, influenced by/celebrating the history of the neighborhood, is as a part of/integral to the neighborhood as the buildings themselves, the notes and lyrics housed within the grout that keeps the bricks from crumbling (and allowing present day residents to live/work in edifices built by and occupied by those from the past).

"The Liberty of Norton Folgate" opens with a wide shot of the inside of the theatre, just prior to the "Overture" that opens the album and concert. A woman sings the 1892 George and Thomas Le Brunn music hall tune "Oh, Mr. Porter" ("Oh! Mr. Porter, what shall I do?/I want to go to Birmingham/And they're taking me on to Crewe/Take me back to London, as quickly as you can/Oh! Mr. Porter, what a silly girl I am!") and as the camera pans up to the starry night-like ceiling, another declares (from one of my favorite Oscar Wilde quotes, brilliantly incorporated into The Pretenders' "Message of Love," where I first encountered it decades ago), "All of us are in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars" (this elicits the rude rebuke from another actor: "Speak for yourself, you stupid pissant!"). Chas Smash then appears to introduce the evening's proceedings, which he warns that some may find, "a flatulent piece of frivolity, while other may consider it with awe and reverence" and apologizes if "any pipette or syringe becomes lodged in your thigh." (He also asks the ladies not to spit.) Finally, he announces, "I give you, for the first time, in this time [pointing to the closed curtain obscuring Madness behind him and, presumably, the past], in your time [pointing to the audience, very much in the present--well, 2009], "The Liberty of Norton Folgate!" Strings, you fuckers!" And the "Overture for Norton Folgate" begins.

As a small orchestra plays the "Overture," we see a wood cut print of old London, and then cut away to a segment filmed one misty night where Suggs and Carl tell us, "You can walk the entire length of Norton Folgate in a matter of minutes. And beneath your feet, through the soil, lies old London. Bobbins and florins, boot soles, and bones, fragments of all kinds of crap. Bits of old bombs sent from Berlin. The past is very close in Norton Folgate--and always has been." After another spoken-word performance about the various denizens of the area, Chas and Suggs repeat their refrain, "We Are London"--which, of course, is the first song off the album. The curtain rises and Madness commence The Liberty of Norton Folgate, which time-travels, H.G. Welles "Time Machine"-style, between songs about the past and present lives of those in Norton Folgate.

Unlike other concert films, which tend to focus almost exclusively on the action on stage, Temple does his utmost to document as much of the night as possible. In addition to capturing Madness performing up close and personal, his cameras prowl through the audience in all sections of the theatre (as the fans revel in Madness' show--god, it looked like they were having an incredible time--and the theatrical performers do their thing), as well as outside the hall, all over Norton Folgate. At first, Temple's manic pace of jump cuts between all of the different footage is distracting and even a bit bewildering (What am I looking at now? I wasn't finished taking in that last bit...). But as the film unfolds, it grows on you--and you begin to appreciate Temple's ADHD approach to the concert and understand his desire to capture and cram in as much of the experience of the concert as possible, from all vantage points and points of view. There's no polite fourth wall here--and the border between past and present (Madness as music hall performers from Norton Folgate's yesteryear; the audience in the here and now) is blurred as much as our imaginations will permit.

Much to my embarrassment, I have to admit that I've never been able to see Madness live, but it seems to me that this film has to be a pretty good substitute for the real thing (I came out of the film exhilarated by the experience, as if I had seen them in person). Several of the songs that I hadn't paid much attention to on the album The Liberty of Norton Folgate ("NW5" and "Clerkenwell Polka," in particular) really connected with me in their live versions (as is so often the case) and it was fantastic to see/hear my favorite tracks from the album, too ("We Are London," "Dust Devil," "Idiot Child," "Forever Young," and "On the Town"--Rhoda Dakar makes a wonderful appearance on stage in the film to sing with Suggs for this song, as she does on the album).

As a concern film, "The Liberty of Norton Folgate" succeeds on every level. Madness are in top form, the songs are some of their best ever (this album is their masterpiece), and there's an immediacy about it all that coveys how fun and extraordinarily special it must have been to be in The Empire Hackney that evening. Yet, "The Liberty of Norton Folgate" is also an ambitious and profound piece of performance art--an examination of obscure footnote in London's history set to music containing a desperately relevant message that humanity still hasn't truly learned: real freedom can only be achieved through living in diverse communities and by fully embracing multiculturalism (see how the history and people of Norton Folgate made this possible...). It may mean living in the gutter (on an old garbage heap) on fringes of polite society, but you'll be afforded the liberty to look for, and perhaps find, your life's guiding star (and happiness).

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Below, you'll find an excerpt of the film from when it was broadcast on the BBC that best illustrates all that Madness are trying to achieve with this album and film, It's the magnificent, 10-minute "The Liberty of Norton Folgate"--hundreds of years of Norton Folgate's history recounted in what must be Madness' finest song.



"The Liberty of Norton Folgate" (McPherson/Barson/Smyth)

"This is the story of the Liberty Of Norton Folgate

A little bit of this, would you like a bit of that?

But in weather like this, you should wear a coat, a nice warm hat
A needle and thread the hand stitches of time
Battling Levinsky versus Jackie Burk
Bobbing and weaving, an invisible line

So step for step and both light on our feet
We’ll travel many along dim silent street

Would you like a bit of this, or a little bit of that? (Misses)
A little bit of what you like does you no harm, you know that
The perpetual steady echo of the passing beat
A continual dark river of people
In its transience and in its permanence
But, when the streetlamp fills the gutter with gold
So many priceless items bought and sold

So step for step and both light on our feet
We’ll travel many along dim silent street (together)

Once 'round Arnold Circus, and up through Petticoat Lane
Past the well of shadows, and once back round again
Arm in arm, with an abstracted air
To where the people stare
Out of the upstairs windows
Because we are living like kings
And these days will last forever

'Cos sailors from Africa, China and the archipelago of Malay
Jump ship ragged and penniless into Shadwells Tiger Bay
The Welsh and Irish wagtails, mothers of midnight
The music hall carousel enspilling out into bonfire light
Sending half crazed shadows, giants dancing up the brick wall
Of Mr Trumans beer factory, waving, bottles ten feet tall

Whether one calls it Spitalfields, Whitechapel, Tower Hamlets
Or Banglatown
We’re all dancing in the moonlight, we’re all
On borrowed ground

Oh, I’m just walking down to, I’m just floating down through
Won’t you come with me, to the Liberty of Norton Folgate
But wait!
What’s that?
Dan Leno
And the Limehouse golem

Purposefully walking nowhere, oh I’m happy just floating about
(Have a banana)
On a Sunday afternoon, the stallholders all call and shout
To no one in particular
Avoiding people you know, you’re just basking in you’re own company
The technicolour world’s going by, but you’re the lead in your own movie

'Cos in the Liberty of Norton Folgate
Walking wild and free, in your second hand coat
Happy just to float
In this little taste of liberty
A part of everything you see

They’re coming left and right
Trying to flog you stuff you don’t need or want
And a smiling chap takes your hand
And drags you in his uncle's restaurant
(ee-yar, ee-yar, ee-yar)

There’s a Chinese man trying hard to flog you moody DVDs
You know? You’ve seen the film, it’s black and white, it’s got no sound
And a man’s head pops up and down
Right across your widescreen TV
(Only a fiver)
(‘Ow much?)
(Alright, two for eight quid)
(Ee-yar, ee-yar, look, I’m givin’ it away)
(Givin’ it away!)

'Cos in the Liberty of Norton Folgate
Walking wild and free, in your second hand coat,
Happy just to float
In this little piece of liberty
You’re a part of everything you see

There’s the sturdy old fellows, pickpockets, dandy’s, extortioners
And night wanderers, the feeble, the ghastly, upon whom death
Had placed a very sure hand
Some in shreds and patches
Reeling inarticulate full of noisy and inordinate vivacity
That jars discordantly upon the ear
And gives an aching sensation to both pair of eyeballs
(Noisy and inordinate vivacity)

In the beginning was a fear of the immigrant
In the beginning was a fear of the immigrant
He’s made his way down to the dark riverside

In the beginning was a fear of the immigrant
In the beginning was a fear of the immigrant
He’s made his home there down by the dark riverside

He made his home there down by the riverside
They made their homes there down by the riverside
The city sprang up from the dark river Thames

They made their home there down by the riverside
They made their homes there down by the riverside
The city sprang up from the dark mud of the Thames
I’ll say it again

‘Cos in the Liberty of Norton Folgate
Walking wild and free
And in your second hand coat
Happy just to float
In this little taste of liberty
Cos you’re a part of everything you see
Yes, you’re a part of everything you see

With a little bit of this
And a little bit of that
A little bit of what you like does you no harm
And you know that"


Saturday, October 11, 2014

Duff Review: Radio Riddler "Purple Reggae"

Mita Records
2014
CD/digital download

(Review by Steve Shafer)

As someone who loves all things new wave and who's a member of a band doing ska/reggae covers of new wave/post punk hits, my antennae shot up when I first heard about Radio Riddler's Purple Reggae project, a song-by-song reggae take on Prince and The Revolution's Purple Rain. Back when this record and film were released in the summer of 1984 (following the massive success of 1999--so much so that my dad even used my purple 1999 t-shirt with the title song's lyrics on the back for a cringe-inducing sermon he gave one youth Sunday at our church), Purple Rain was one of those near-perfect albums (take a look at the track list), where almost every song on both sides of the record was stellar. And the songs touched on enough musical genres to have extraordinarily wide appeal--they attracted fans of new wave, classic rock, pop, funk, rhythm and blues, and more.

It was inescapable, too. Cuts from Purple Rain were all over radio and MTV--and deservedly so. If you were a teenage consumer of music at the time, Purple Rain had a profound impact. Years on, the album has become a touchstone of your youth and the songs evoke all sorts of sharp memories. You know where you were, what you were doing, and who you were doing it with. I'll always remember how the girls in my circle of friends were all out crazy for Prince--they dug his music, his intense and charismatic performances, and his overt sexuality that was tempered by all the theatricality and androgyny. My girlfriend at the time was the one who scored us tickets to see Prince and The Revolution at Madison Square Garden and it was a pretty great show, even if we were in the last row in the nosebleed seats and could only see Prince through a pair of binoculars.

For the past several years, Radio Riddler--Brian Fast Leiser and Frank Benbini of Fun Lovin' Criminals--have been creating reggae and dub mixes of songs by many of their favorite artists (such as Marvin Gaye). This has led them to take on a reported five-year project in celebration of Purple Rain. (I wonder how Prince feels about Radio Riddler's logo, which appropriates Warner Brothers' logo. He had an ugly and long-running battle with WB, which was just recently resolved...) Timed to celebrate the 30th anniversary (!) of the release of Purple Rain, Radio Riddler's Purple Reggae, featuring guest vocals by Suggs (Madness), Sinead O'Connor, Ali Campbell (ex-UB40), Citizen Cope, Deborah Bonham (sister of the Led Zeppelin drummer), and Beverley Knight (a hugely popular soul/r and b singer in the UK, who has an MBE in recognition of all of her charity work), is an ambitious, ingenious, and throughly enjoyable tribute this classic album.

The most successful realization of this effort may be Radio Riddler's incredible version of "Let's Go Crazy" with Suggs on vocals--his relaxed, assured, and upbeat delivery is the perfect counterpoint to the amped up music and propulsive riddim he's riding. It's always been my favorite track on Purple Rain (I've always thought of it as a "1999, Part II" with its "enjoy yourself, it's later than you think" attitude about our mortality, coupled with the subliminal Cold War-era dread of living with the pretty high possibility of nuclear war--the air raid siren at the beginning and end of Radio Riddler's mix reinforces what was then a very real threat, as does the Pac Man-like "game over" sound effect when the track fades out...). This version uses many of the same elements of the original--Prince's unique, processed electronic drum sound, which is used throughout this album, and the song's emphasis on the repeated organ line--but everything's been revamped with a bouncy and extremely catchy reggae skank and it works exceedingly well. (I'd almost recommend you buy this album on this track alone, but that would give short-shrift to all the amazing songs that follow...)

"Take Me With U" moves into loping reggae/soul territory with Deborah Bonham's impassioned singing (it's no longer a duet, as it was between Prince and Apollonia) and this arrangement sheds some of the original's tightly-wound urgency, but in turn adds more emotional depth and impact. In contrast, "The Beautiful Ones'" tempo is sped up here, giving Prince's mostly breezy, delicate ballad (with Benbini singing falsetto) a bit of worried urgency over whether she'll choose the other guy over The Kid that the source lacks (until the end, of course, when Prince freaks out). Radio Riddler manage to translate the electro-funk of "Computer Blue" into a great horn-driven ska track (with a killer reggae break in the middle, featuring trombone and melodica). Back in the day, I remember thinking that "Darling Nikki" was a ridiculously indulgent (and kind of embarrassing) track (and it still is), marring Prince's otherwise extraordinary album. At least Radio Riddler's cooly seductive dancehall-ish version--with Benbini at the mic--is a much more pleasant/less skanky experience.

While Prince and The Revolution's mega-hit "When Doves Cry" is a spare drums/keyboard track with no bass line (that endows it with a tension and claustrophobic feeling that reflects the pain and desperate sorrow in the lyrics--as well as a distinctive sound that was unlike anything on the radio at the time), Radio Riddler sneak the bass back in under the bubbling keys (after all, how can you have reggae without the bass?!). And their inventive arrangement (it opens with a marimba and accordion covering the keyboard riff from the original) along with Citizen Cope's wounded singing are completely stellar. Given Sinead O'Connor's past association with Prince (she had an enormous hit in 1990 with the Prince composition "Nothing Compares 2 U") and her well-known love of reggae (in 2005, she recorded the superb Throw Down Your Arms, where she covered roots reggae cuts by Burning Spear, Junior Byles, Peter Tosh, Bob Marley, Lee Perry, The Abyssinians, and others, backed by Sly and Robbie), it's brilliant that Radio Riddler were able to feature her on this recording. It's even more fantastic that O'Connor sings "I Would Die 4 U" (where Prince, um, strives to be like/assumes the qualities of the son of God and pledges to sacrifice himself in order to redeem his lover), given her deep religious beliefs and that fact that she's an ordained priest in the Catholic Latin Tridentine Church. She serves up a restrained, but very moving performance, as if she's already carrying the sins of the world on her shoulders and knows what will have to be done to save us.

The slow, but strutting funky-reggae arrangement of "Baby, I'm a Star" provides Beverly Knight the space to show off her gorgeous voice and considerable talent--and so effectively convey the mighty swagger of the lyrics that she gives Prince a run for his money. She owns this. Purple Reggae is capped off by an awesomely melancholic, but defiantly joyful rendition of "Purple Rain" sung by the unmistakable Ali Campbell. If you played this track for someone who didn't know what it was, they'd swear it was a long-lost UB40 cut from the 80s, when they were in their prime.

Radio Riddler's Purple Reggae is a superb (and fun!) re-imagining of this classic record, one that is faithful to the spirit and sound of the original, while successfully transforming these songs into dynamic, new reggae cuts. If you're a fan of reggae and of Prince, Purple Reggae is a must!

+ + + +



Thursday, May 7, 2009

Madness: The Liberty of Norton Folgate

In addition to a short interview with Suggs (as well as a feature on Island Records' 50th anniversary and a piece on Chris Blackwell that I haven't had the chance to read yet), the June 2009 issue of Mojo gives the new Madness album, The Liberty of Norton Folgate (Lucky Seven Records), four out of four stars. The rave review by Ian Harrison is as follows...
Thirty Years into their career, the Nutty Boys write a love letter to London. You can't accuse Madness of overdoing it; this is only their second album of all-new material since 1985's Mad Not Mad. Thankfully it was worth the wait. Named for a corner of the City of London that was legally autonomous until 1900, it's a themed, time-shifting salute to the capital in all of its infinite variety. Using the familiar pop-reggae sound of yore with singer Suggs, in tragi-comedian mood, it energetically represents the band's sombre, complicated side that doesn't always show at the hit-packed live gigs. In these songs marriages fail, things get worse as you get older and joys are fleeting, but it's depth not length that count in time, and ultimately, as on the blissful escape of Africa and the mystic title track's astonishment at a city "sprung up from the dark mud of the Thames," the results are uplifting. Still totally themselves, Madness have made the album of their career.
The Liberty of Norton Folgate will be available as an import in the US on May 19 through Amazon and other fine retailers.

Here's the first single from the album, "Dust Devil" (which is available as a 7", 10", CD single, and download on May 11th)...



And here's the band on Later with Jools Holland doing the same cut...



All of this kind of makes you wonder what all the fuss is about regarding The Specials "reunion" tour, right? The Nutty Boys at least had the decency to show up for the 30th anniversary festivities with (great) new material in hand.

Friday, October 24, 2008

Kid British-Manchester's Best New Hope for UK Ska?

Kid British describe themselves as "a gooey mixture of The Specials, Outkast, Madness, De La Soul, Gorillaz, The Streets, and Blur." (Hey, I like all of these bands, tell me more!) Take a listen to three of their tunes, "Elizabeth," "Sunny Days," and "Rum Boy," on the Kid British MySpace page and see what you think.

Most obviously, there is a heavy Madness and Specials-as-channeled-through-Damon Albarn/Blur influence, which I personally dig. Ska on the pop tip (yes, "Sunny Days" does remind one of ELO's "Mr. Blue Sky," a song I'll be bold enough to admit liking)--it crawls into your head and lives there happily for a while. Kid British is definitely something worthwhile to listen to--in its own right and while you wait for Madness' new album, The Liberty of Norton Folgate, which is supposed to come out exactly when? (While we wait impatiently, Suggs has apparently been filming a travelogue about Italy for British TV: Suggs's Italian Job.)

I hate the whole "next big thing" crap hype (hey, it helped kill US ska and Moon Records at the end of the 90s..once bitten, right?), but these guys sound like they might be able to deliver on their promise. Their first single is going to be released on October 27th in the UK on Another Music=Another Kitchen Records (don't miss the Buzzcocks reference there, folks) and distributed by Mercury/Universal. I don't know if this will be available as an import in the US, but perhaps we can buy it on iTunes? Their album is slated for release in spring 2009.

Read a bit more about the band in these articles from the Guardian and the BBC.