LeCaine in the membrane

 

New Wave / New Wave

On Twitter, a designer who identifies himself only as Mark (Stuff_By_Mark @The_Ren1981) has been putting up these imaginary movie posters that take New Wave songs and imagine each of them as a film from the New Wave of British cinema aka 1960s kitchen-sink realism.  It's a clever idea that cuts to the core of what these groups were about - and it's nicely done. 

Only quibble: "Too Much Too Young" is perfect as Specials choice, but "Friday Night, Saturday Morning" would have been even perfecter.  

He does do "Up the Junction" for Squeeze, but of course that was actually originally the title of a film from that run of kitchen-sink cinema. 

Not sure Talking Heads should be in this company, 

since they are not UK 

and this genre of films is so utterly British

But Pulp, next up, totally fit as the extension of this New Wave

 aesthetic into the '90s

A song by the Streets, or Lily Allen would also fit very well, as would 

Arctic Monkeys whose debut album takes a line of Arthur Seaton's 

from Saturday Night, Sunday Morning.

Now this one - The Kinks's "Waterloo Sunset" - is slightly anomalous, given that it's the same era as the original films). 

Another bit of Mark Retro graphic design based around the Beatles

That Voice - the return's return!

Eve Libertine - a javelin of righteous rage hurled right through your torso !

Piercing at 3.13

Disemboweling at 3.48

That first bit of high-pure singing points to a past in folk rock 

It's the full-tilt denounce mode section that is That Voice-y. 

The diva of diatribe, the virago of vehemence

Crass and anarcho-punk discussed over the road.

Not sure if this is Eve - think it's someone else (Joy de Vivre?)

Female vocals only on this album Penis Envy - to suit its anti-patriarchy lyrics

musique de bouche (the IRCAM boys are back in town)

 

The first of three excerpts demonstrating vocal-processing techniques - no idea whose voice this is

The whole of the 'demonstration' side of Un Portrait 

The side with tunes on 

fringe benefits (very slight return)

 

the original post

liner notes 2 (slight return)

John Cale, back of Church of Anthrax, his Terry Riley collab

Another ex-Velvet  - Lou Reed exalting his methamphetamine symphony Metal Machine Music (subtitle The Amine β Ring - a reference to the chemical structure of amphetamines)

“NOTATION – When I started the Velvet Underground and its various springoffs, my concern was not, as was assumed abidingly lyrical, verbally riented at heart, ‘head’ rock, the exploration of various ‘taboo’ subjects, drugs, sex, violence. Passion—REALISM—realism was the key. The records were letters. Real letters from me to certain other people. Who had and still have basically, no music, be it verbal or instrumental to listen to. One of the peripheral effects typically distorted was what was to be known as heavy metal rock. In Reality it was of course diffuse, obtuse, weak, boring and ultimately an embarrassment. This record is not for parties/dancing/background romance. This is what I meant by “real” rock, about “real” things. No one I know has listened to it all the way through including myself. It is not meant to be. Start any place you like. Symmetry, mathematical precision, obsessive and detailed accuracy and the vast advantage one has over “modern electronic composers.” They, with neither sense of time, melody or emotion, manipulated or no. It’s for a certain time and place of mind. It is the only recorded work I know of seriously done as well as possible as a gift, if one could call it that, from a part of certain head to a few others. Most of you won’t like this and I don’t blame you at all. It’s not meant for you. At the very least I made it so I had something to listen to. Certainly Misunderstood: Power to Consume (how Bathetic): an idea done respectfully, intelligently, sympathetically and graciously, always with concentration on the first and foremost goal. For that matter, off the record, I love and adore it. I’m sorry, but not especially, if it turns you off.

 

One record for us and it. I’d harbored hope that the intelligence that once inhabited novels or films would ingest rock, I was, perhaps, wrong. This is the reason Sally Can’t Dance—your Rock n Roll Animal. More than a decent try, but hard for us to do badly. Wrong media, unquestionably. This is not meant fo the market. The agreement one makes with “speed”. A specific acknowledgment. A to say the least, very limited market. Rock n Roll Animal makes this possible, funnily enough. The misrepresentation succeeds to the point of making possible the appearance of the progenitor. For those for whom the needle is no more than a toothbrush. Professionals, no sniffers please, don’t confuse superiority (no competition) with violence, power or the justifications. The Tacit speed agreement with Self. We did not start World War I, II or III. Or the Bay of Pigs, for that Matter. Whenever. As way of disclaimer. I am forced to say that, due to stimulation of various centers (remember OOOOHHHMMM, etc.), the possible negative contraindications must be pointed out. A record has to, of all things Anyway, hypertense people, etc. possibility of epilepsy (petit mal), psychic motor disorders, etc… etc… etc.

 

My week beats your year.”—Lou Reed

 

Speed can make you pedantic, or at least, obsessively annotative - on the front of Metal Machine Music, there's a footnote to the subtitle "The Amine B Ring" at the bottom of the cover

 

"dextrorotory components synthesis of sympathomimetic musics" 

- again, more pharmacological idiolect from Reed the non-dilettante ("no sniffers please... the needle is no more than a toothbrush" speed-user) who no doubt spend hours poring the big fat Pharmacist's guide to drugs

Finally, Paul Morley's first ever liner note, for the 10-inch vinyl tribute to closed-down-prematurely  Manchester punk venue the Electric Circus

 Actually, not finally - here's a whole heap of barely-legible liner notes from famous American rock critics (Ed Ward, Lester Bangs, Dave Marsh, Langdon Winner, David Dalton etc) for the label Orphic Egg and its "let's try flogging classical to long hair, dope-smoking youth" series The Musical Head (a pun I guess on the busts of composers's heads with the idea of tuned-in / turned-on hippie "head"). I wonder if the combo of this advocacy from members of their own generation, plus the trippy / surrealistic covers (see below), actually worked and they successfully sold Scriabin and Stravinsky to the youth?

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