Classic_Pop_Issue_30_July_2017

92

BETH DITTO

FAKE SUGAR

VIRGIN EMI RECORDS

PUBLIC SERVICE

BROADCASTING

EVERY VALLEY

PIAS RECORDINGS

When Beth Ditto’s former band,

Gossip, hooked up with Girls

Aloud producer Brian Higgins

for 2012’s A Joyful Noise,

it seemed the group had run

aground. Instead of powering

the trio’s rhythmic punk rock

into the mainstream, it stifled

it, something the band must

have recognised. Solo Ditto’s

not forsaken the idea of a

high-fidelity, polished record,

however: she “speed-dated”

writers and producers for Fake

Sugar, ending up working,

mostly, with Jennifer Decilveo

(Ryn Weaver).

Her debut’s largely founded

on familiar influences – gritty

garage rock, flamboyant disco,

and passionate soul – while

her larger-than-life voice,

somewhere between Etta James

and Bonnie Tyler, remains the

focus, oozing attitude.

The stomping Oo La La,

co-written with Jackknife Lee,

and strutting Savoire Faire

are two tracks separated from

her band’s catalogue only

by their richer arrangements,

while Go Baby Go sounds like

LCD Soundsystem fed Dusty

Springfield amphetamines.

The influence of Paul Simon’s

Graceland is a surprise on the

breezy title track, but she slips

up a few times: We Could Run’s

undercooked stadium pop, the

saccharine This Is Love, and

Lover’s melodrama.

Fake Sugar is best when it’s

sweet and sour. WW

There are many reasons to

respect Jah Wobble, not least

his willingness to explore

different musical genres. An

album recorded with his current

band revisiting elements of

his back catalogue, as well

as music that’s inspired him,

therefore sounds more than a

little tempting.

Somehow, however, The

Usual Suspects falls short of

celebration. It’s still a pleasant

reminder of his finest moments:

opener Public Image’s rolling

bassline sounds as roguish

as ever, and there’s a muted

version of PiL’s Poptones,

recorded live, as well as

an extended take on his

extraordinary Visions Of You.

Wobble has surrounded

himself with quality players,

and allows them freedom to

flaunt their talent. Within a live

environment, this makes sense,

but it’s unclear what purpose

a drab take on the Midnight

Cowboy theme has, and

while it’s conceptually exciting

to think of Wobble playing

the unforgettable bassline to

Fleetwood Mac’s The Chain,

it proves to be little more than

an excuse for Martin Chung’s

lengthy guitar solo.

There’s some tasty jazz

excursions on the second

disc here, but there are better

ways in to Wobble’s often

fascinating work. WW

Examine the artwork for this

debut from Blancmange’s

Neil Arthur and Benge, a

musician, producer and serial

collaborator who last appeared

in these pages as part of

Wrangler, and you’ll get an

idea of what to expect.

Its cover is blacker than

black, with a chink of light like

it’s leaking through a closed

doorway, while its booklet

features typed lyrics and images

created from letters printed

in Courier font. It’s stark and

monochrome – claustrophobic

and primitive. Check The Power

• which, like much of this edgy
  collection, features antique
  synths, hushed vocals and little
  else – even finds Arthur asking
  “Is the door locked?” The
  answer is apparently yes.
  I Prefer Solitude further
  underlines this cramped
  atmosphere, though it brightens
  in its chorus – “I’ve never been
  lonely/ I prefer solitude” –
  but moments later, on Way
  Out, Arthur returns us to its
  dominant, oppressive mood.
  The nostalgic tones of
  Benge’s synths – inevitably
  sounding at times like early
  Depeche Mode – are at times
  matched by similarly nostalgic
  images, such as Liverpool
  Bricks’ “broken glass bottles
  on top of Victorian walls”,
  and there are hints of surreal
  humour, too: 3D Carpets’ “Put
  the rings back on... the onion”.
  In general, though, this is
  an unremitting experiment in
  bleak simplicity. WW

On the surface, PSB’s third

album offers only one

significant change to their

methodology, which, ostensibly,

has always been an attempt

to commercialise Godspeed

You! Black Emperor’s dramatic,

cinematic post-rock: it’s the first

on which they’ve employed

vocalists. But that’s not what

makes Every Valley their first

genuinely inspiring collection.

Sure, there will be people

excited by the presence of

James Dean Bradfield on the

relatively mundane Turn No

More, while others will enjoy

the additional charm bestowed

by Camera Obscura’s

Tracyanne Campbell on the

radiant Progress. Some, too,

may be taken aback by You

+ Me, a tender ballad which

features Lisa Jen Brown singing

in her native Welsh.

But the real transformation

on Every Valley comes because

their sometimes-bombastic

approach is here applied to a

subject worthy of attention: the

results of industrial decline in

Wales coalmining communities.

There’s a tremendous

poignancy to hearing the

voices of ordinary Welsh

people discussing the mid-80s

miners’ strike on the furious All

Out and its aftermath, on the

forlorn Mother Of The Village:

“We all thought we’d be there

for the rest of our lives”. An

unquestionably worthwhile and

earnest endeavour. WW

FADER

FIRST LIGHT

BLANC CHECK RECORDS

JAH WOBBLE & THE

INVADERS OF THE HEART

THE USUAL SUSPECTS

3MS

CP30.reviews.print.indd 92 08/06/2017 11:16