quête:television personalities

Los Angeles post-punkers SHARK TOYS delight with off-kilter clatter of the highest caliber, possessing a jagged beauty that defies the songs shamble-pop brevity. Swell Maps and Television Personalities flavor the proceedings without dominating, with SHARK TOYS retaining their own American-DIY-art-punk identity through their wonderfully constructed and sonically thrilling songs. From Gainesville Florida, UV-TV's debut vinyl offering is a unique hybrid of infectious psyche-punk and dynamic indiepop. C86/Shop Assistants-esque melodies coupled with pounding toms and soaring dark angular post-punk guitar. This is stripped down 3 piece brutal-pop, with smatterings of feedback, counter balanced perfectly by the sweet melodic vocal delivery of Rose Vastola.

MILKY CLEAR VINYL.

''The lightness of the C86 Sarah Records guitars come with the significant counterweight of more ominous Factory Records basslines.The lyrics and vocals are stark, sandpapery and sardonic, akin to Jonathan Richman, Kiwi Jr and, Bodega.'' Ducks Ltd. - EP Review - God Is In The TV
Toronto’s Ducks Ltd. (formerly Ducks Unlimited), the bright jangle-pop duo of Tom McGreevy (lead vocal, guitar, bass, keyboards) and Evan Lewis (guitar, bass, drum programming), accomplish the impossible. The pair craft songs that play to very specific inspirations without drowning underneath them—immediately evidenced on their critically acclaimed EP, Get Bleak, and sharpened on Modern Fiction, their debut LP. “The Servants, The Clean, The Chills, The Bats, Television Personalities, Felt,” Evan rattles off. “Look Blue Go Purple is one I reference a lot with our production.” Echoes of ‘80s indiepop abound, but they never overwhelm. This is not a nostalgic record, after all, nor is it a derivative one. Instead, across 10 cheery-sounding songs, Ducks Ltd. explore contemporary society in decline, examining large scale human disaster through personal turmoil (hence the title, taken from a university course called Gnosticism and Nihilism in Modern Fiction, influenced by Graham Greene novels. Bookish indie fans, look no further.)

Writing the album was intimate. Tom drafted the nucleus of a song on an unplugged electric guitar and brought it over to Evan’s apartment, where the pair sat in his bedroom, placing percussive beats from a drum machine under nascent melodies, passing a bass back and forth, adding organs and bridges where necessary. “It’s computer music trying extremely hard not to sound like computer music,” Tom jokes. Fearful that limited and expensive studio time would kneecap the project creatively, eroding their charming naivete, the pair re-recorded the album in a storage space owned by Evan’s boss. Ornamentation through collaboration followed: there’s Aaron Goldstein on Pedal Steel in the Go-Betweens’ “Cattle and Cane”-channeling interlude “Patience Wearing Thin,” Eliza Niemi on cello (“18 Cigarettes,” a song loosely inspired by a 1997 Oasis performance of “Don’t Go Away”), and backing harmonies from Carpark labelmates The Beths (on an ode to friendship at a distance, “How Lonely Are You?,” “Always There,” and on the sped-up Syd Barrett stylings of “Under The Rolling Moon.”) While in his native Australia due to covid-19, Evan worked closely with producer James Cecil (The Goon Sax, Architecture in Helsinki) on Modern Fiction’s finishing touches—at one point, in the mountains of the Macedon Ranges in Victoria, recorded a string quartet (featured on “Fit to Burst,” “Always There,” “Sullen Leering Hope,” “Twere Ever Thus,” “Grand Final Day.”)

It’s danceable, depressive fun, with some relief: in “Always There” and “Sullen Leering Hope,” Modern Fiction’s faithful heart. “There’s a tendency in my writing, because of my world view, to be very bleak.” Tom explains. “A quality I don’t always see in myself and really appreciate in others is the courage to go on.” And yet, the record manages resiliency—enough for pop fans to fall in love with.

MILKY CLEAR VINYL.

''The lightness of the C86 Sarah Records guitars come with the significant counterweight of more ominous Factory Records basslines.The lyrics and vocals are stark, sandpapery and sardonic, akin to Jonathan Richman, Kiwi Jr and, Bodega.'' Ducks Ltd. - EP Review - God Is In The TV
Toronto’s Ducks Ltd. (formerly Ducks Unlimited), the bright jangle-pop duo of Tom McGreevy (lead vocal, guitar, bass, keyboards) and Evan Lewis (guitar, bass, drum programming), accomplish the impossible. The pair craft songs that play to very specific inspirations without drowning underneath them—immediately evidenced on their critically acclaimed EP, Get Bleak, and sharpened on Modern Fiction, their debut LP. “The Servants, The Clean, The Chills, The Bats, Television Personalities, Felt,” Evan rattles off. “Look Blue Go Purple is one I reference a lot with our production.” Echoes of ‘80s indiepop abound, but they never overwhelm. This is not a nostalgic record, after all, nor is it a derivative one. Instead, across 10 cheery-sounding songs, Ducks Ltd. explore contemporary society in decline, examining large scale human disaster through personal turmoil (hence the title, taken from a university course called Gnosticism and Nihilism in Modern Fiction, influenced by Graham Greene novels. Bookish indie fans, look no further.)

Writing the album was intimate. Tom drafted the nucleus of a song on an unplugged electric guitar and brought it over to Evan’s apartment, where the pair sat in his bedroom, placing percussive beats from a drum machine under nascent melodies, passing a bass back and forth, adding organs and bridges where necessary. “It’s computer music trying extremely hard not to sound like computer music,” Tom jokes. Fearful that limited and expensive studio time would kneecap the project creatively, eroding their charming naivete, the pair re-recorded the album in a storage space owned by Evan’s boss. Ornamentation through collaboration followed: there’s Aaron Goldstein on Pedal Steel in the Go-Betweens’ “Cattle and Cane”-channeling interlude “Patience Wearing Thin,” Eliza Niemi on cello (“18 Cigarettes,” a song loosely inspired by a 1997 Oasis performance of “Don’t Go Away”), and backing harmonies from Carpark labelmates The Beths (on an ode to friendship at a distance, “How Lonely Are You?,” “Always There,” and on the sped-up Syd Barrett stylings of “Under The Rolling Moon.”) While in his native Australia due to covid-19, Evan worked closely with producer James Cecil (The Goon Sax, Architecture in Helsinki) on Modern Fiction’s finishing touches—at one point, in the mountains of the Macedon Ranges in Victoria, recorded a string quartet (featured on “Fit to Burst,” “Always There,” “Sullen Leering Hope,” “Twere Ever Thus,” “Grand Final Day.”)

It’s danceable, depressive fun, with some relief: in “Always There” and “Sullen Leering Hope,” Modern Fiction’s faithful heart. “There’s a tendency in my writing, because of my world view, to be very bleak.” Tom explains. “A quality I don’t always see in myself and really appreciate in others is the courage to go on.” And yet, the record manages resiliency—enough for pop fans to fall in love with.

From the many musical lives of artist Glenn Donaldson emerges The Reds, Pinks and Purples, a project that sifts out the purest elements of pop music and in the process chronicles the point of view of an assiduous San Francisco-based songwriter. The Reds, Pinks and Purples’ third album, called Uncommon Weather, is both an elusive portrait of San Francisco––during one of its fluctuations as an untenable place for musicians and artists––and also a self-portrait, however inverted, of a songwriter who has dispatched another treasured collection of timeless sounding DIY-pop songs.

How The Reds, Pinks and Purples arrived here is a story with many roots, the most consequential of which is perhaps the musical aftermath of his earlier band, The Art Museums, whose brief tenure in the late ’00s coincided with an explosive period of the Bay Area rock scene and was followed by a hermetic musical period of Donaldson’s. Disenchanted with the dissolution of his band, Donaldson averted the DIY-pop sound with an instrumental, conceptual project called FWY! but meanwhile started a habitual songwriting practice, sharing nascent songs with friends in an email exchange. In 2013–2014, The Reds, Pinks and Purples took shape as the moniker for Glenn’s most direct expressions in the DIY-pop mode, enabled by this new disciplined output. By then, San Francisco was already a changed place. The tragic loss of his former bandmate in Art Museums was another source of discontinuity and rupture. You can hear in The Reds, Pinks and Purples’ earliest songs this grappling with life, anxiety, and atrophying subcultures. For an artist with an overriding interest in the aesthetic principles of discrete musical genres, this turn toward his immediate world for subject matter was a major shift, setting The Reds, Pinks and Purples apart from Donaldson’s other musical ventures.

Preceding the release of Uncommon Weather was the Reds, Pinks and Purples’ 2nd album, one of the record buying joys of 2020, You Might Be Happy Someday, and, earlier, their first proper full length Anxiety Art, a title that might nod to the classic Television Personalities song “Anxiety Block.” Donaldson’s music continuously reckons with the influence of Dan Treacy, whose own forays into drum-machines, echo, and reverb in the early 1990s is an important reference point for The Reds, Pinks and Purples’ musical template. Paul Weller, Robert Smith, and Sarah Records also come to mind. But, as important, Donaldson sees his projects as visual expressions too, often blurring the lines of records and physical art objects. They could just as well be “art multiples” as well as records. The pattern for Reds, Pinks and Purples’ records is to document San Francisco’s Inner Richmond district in photographs: the muted, pastel colours and unpeopled compositions unfold in a series of images that read like counter-melodies to Donaldson’s distinctive voice, a vocal tone that always complements the colours.

Self-recorded and mostly self-performed, Uncommon Weather features pinnacle versions of songs Donaldson has honed since the beginning of the project. The album arrives with grateful timing, quick on the heels of You Might Be Happy Someday, and alleviating, for a brief window at least, whatever it is that keeps us coming back to this elemental music. Donaldson imagines his listeners are just like himself: fascinated and addicted to the spiritual power of uncomplicated pop classics. Anthony Atlas

'Garage bands suddenly obtain cult status and become the antithesis of their initial appeal'

Garage Class were a group of reluctant outliers who produced one of the finest contributions to the wave of UK DIY music that emerged during the late 70s and early to mid-80s.

Hailing from Alsager in North West England and comprised of Tim Shutt (vocals) Phil Murphy (lead guitar) Clive Williams (guitar) Lynne Sanders (bass) and Phil Bourne (drums / bass on studio recordings) Garage Class originally went by the name of The Pits before their then manager Steve Hurt imposed an alias which, though unpopular within their ranks, would nevertheless reflect the shambolic art they would eventually capture on their first and only single.

As The Pits the group offered a loutish inflection on glam-punk flamboyance, evoking Johnny Thunder hitting the north and remaining disowned yet undeterred in a dreary old boozer. But as Garage Class the group distilled a roughcast and homespun primitivism that felt quintessentially their own. In this they proved too unruly to be assimilated into any wider scene. Early gigs descended into acrimony and recognition proved elusive. Yet what they managed to make back then now sounds like an extraordinary article of underdog ambition.

Released in 1984, four years after it was originally recorded, the Terminal Tokyo single is an unlikely triumph of exceptional messthetic punk. Though raw and unpolished the songs here are precariously pop-minded and indisputably anthemic. The titular A-side reveals the dry and detached drawl of Shutt aka The Subliminal Kid, a sharp, jaded and poetic voice that has some of the most iconic lines never heard in punk. Accompanied by second-hand guitars, on-the-fly handclaps and a chorus like a terrace chant this is the cult hit that never was, a heroically artless masterpiece that has all the ragged character and misfit euphoria of Swell Maps and The Buzzcocks if they were more impulsive and boisterous, and left to their own devices in the remote margins of a Cheshire town. The original B-side is here substituted for I Got Standards, a track that, until now, has somehow remained unreleased. An ideal twin to Terminal Tokyo there's the same brusque and dog-eared quality to the band's delivery, as well as the same upfront emphasis on strong hooks and insistent momentum. Yet again, Shutt is on impeccable form, perfecting an inflated, adolescent antagonism that has all the sardonic, malcontented charm of similarly 'shirty' buggers like Dan Treacy (Television Personalities), Patrik Fitzgerald and Mark Perry (Alternative TV).

Although never accepted in their own time both tracks represent a brief but inspired moment of fervent imperfection, one that epitomized the best of a diffuse and autonomous underground movement spearheaded by The Desperate Bicycles and built upon by the likes of Amos & Sara, The Homosexuals, The Cleaners From Venus and Family Fodder. Like them Garage Class were situated at a point where punk, art, humour and a sense of stubborn independence all intersected.

In the years since Terminal Tokyo has accumulated a retrospective appeal among certain trusted circles, with Jon Dale celebrating the single in his exhaustive and essential Story of UK DIY for Fact Magazine, and original copies regularly changing hands for a foolish forty quid or so. With this inaugural release on the Outer Reaches label Terminal Tokyo is not only restored for the very first time but given a worthy expansion courtesy of JD Twitch (Optimo).

Continuing his own fascination with the fringe history of UK DIY - documented on his own outstanding compilation Cease & Desist: DIY! (Cult Classics From The Post Punk Era 1978-1982) and in his re-edits of Crass Records classics for an early release on RVNG INTL - Twitch reinterprets I Got Standards as an incisive, dubwise outing that pictures Jaki Liebezeit and Muslimgauze on a bender in England's provinces, tasked with remixing the raw product of local punks. A new slant on Garage Class' crude magnificence, built to play loud on contemporary soundsystems.

Although the latter part of 1980 spelled the end for Garage Class with members moving on to other projects (Bourne fell in with The Colours Out of Time, Murphy went on to front The Regular Guys and Shutt eventually left to form Happy Refugees) this reissue attempts to give their fleeting time together and the unique single statement they made the treatment it deserves. If this means Garage Class have obtained cult status, their initial appeal remains. Just listen for yourself.

Mit "This Is London" veröffentlicht das Hamburger Label Tapete ein weiteres Schmuckstück aus seiner Reihe vergessener und nicht mehr erhältlicher Pop-Perlen. Ursprünglich kam "This Is London" 1983 als zweites Album der Band The Times auf den Markt. Kopf der Formation war der 1959 geborene Sänger und Bassist Edward Ball. Der gründete 1976 mit O-Level seine erste Gruppe, bevor er in seinem Schulfreund Daniel Treacy einen Geistesverwandten entdeckte. Gemeinsam gründeten sie die Bands Television Personalities und Teenage Filmstars. Ersterer stand Treacy vor, Letztere führte Ball an. Das Tandem hielt sich einige Jahre und ging dann in The Times auf. Zwischen 1982 und 86 veröffentlichten die Briten sechs LPs. Die beiden ersten Platten, "Pop Goes Art" und "This Is London",vancierten zu zwei Klassikern des ersten Mod-Revivals und machten The Times zur Kultband.