The Rise, The Fall and the Rise - Brix Smith-Start (2016)

I started listening to Turned Out a Punk, Damien Abraham's podcast, sometime this fall.  An entire post should be written about the podcast but suffice to say, Brix Smith was one of the first guests that I wanted to hear.  Her episode probably made me want to read this book.  I'm very glad that I did.  While it is not a perfect book and will not make the Best Books list, parts of it are so incredible that make it worthwhile.  I could not agree with Abraham that it was the best book I had read that year.  It was however, extremely entertaining and highly readable, at times.  As a huge fan of the Fall going back about 14 years, it was a totally amazing experience. On both the podcast, and in this book, Brix references being classmates with Donna Tartt and Bret Easton Ellis at Bennington College in the early 80's.  She does not aim for the heights of The Goldfinch, but sometimes lapses into Ellis-styled prose.  That is, her life could be one of his novels, particularly with the ending in the fashion industry.  What she ends up doing is completely her own.  It may not generally be as artful, but I personally found that I could identify with Brix very closely.  We are all Brix Smith, or Brix Smith is all of us.

I re-listened to the episode today, and forgot the two other Bennington classmates she mentioned--Jonathan Lethem and Jill Eisenstadt.  Apart from that there is not much else to mention--you can listen to the podcast yourself.  I will note that Brix has one of most unique accents I have heard--British valley girl.  She was born in L.A. and spent her childhood there, and splitting time between there and Chicago in her teen years.  She now lives in England.

The stuff about Chicago is fantastic.  On the podcast, Brix mentions that her first concert was at this outdoor venue outside of Chicago, where people have picnics, Rav-en-ia, where she saw the Carpenters and Neil Sedaka on a double bill.  Having recently seen Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons with my family at Ravinia, I found it touching.

Most notably, there is the story of where and when she met Mark E. Smith:

"On Saturday 23 April 1983, Lisa and I paid the $6 ticket price and entered through the front doors of Cabaret Metro, 3730 North Clark Street." (144)

This was within a week of my birth, not very far away, so I have one more reason to feel connected to the band and this book.

Brix writes compelling stories through the first 75% of the book.  In truth I lost some interest after she left the Fall, and it was briefly exciting when she rejoined for a couple years in the mid-90's.  The opening of the book confused me--it's an account of her grandmother seemingly losing it behind the wheel and driving from the Disneyland parking lot through the main gates and into the park before plunging into the lagoon at the 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea ride.  I thought it was real, but Brix later reveals it to be a dream.  I wonder how many other people have that reaction.  It seems like it could have happened, because so much of the rest of her life has been crazy that anything seems possible.  Her stories about her father are both hilarious and horrifying.  There are so many things I would excerpt from this book it's not even funny.  On that note, I should perhaps vault it into Best Books territory, but I think it is instructive to compare it to the other recent female rock musician memoirs that I've read.

If pressed, I have to say that it is better than both Kim Gordon's Girl in a Band and Carrie Brownstein's Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl.  Both are excellent books.  All three of these books are fantastic and totally worth reading, but Brix's is the heaviest.  To be sure, Kim Gordon's account of the dissolution of her relationship with her husband and bandmate, Thurston Moore, is the most powerful piece of writing in the bunch.  This is not to say that Carrie Brownstein's account of the dissolution of her romantic relationship with bandmate Corin Tucker is weak.  In fact, Brix's account of the dissolution of her relationship with husband and bandmate, Mark E. Smith, is the least evocative, in part due to the inscrutability of the man it involves.  Now I love Mark E. Smith but this book definitely sheds some light on him in an unflattering fashion.  It feels fair, though, because there are also moments of extreme vulnerability, humanity, and cuteness.

There are some parts of this book that are tough to read.  Yet even during the most atrocious moment, Brix offers some levity and resists victimization.  As I said, there are many quotable excerpts in this book, so I have to include one about Mark E. Smith that almost made me want to start crying:

"One night, a few months later, there was a knock at the front door of my apartment.  I opened the door to find Mark E. Smith standing there.  He was drunk and held a half-empty bottle of whiskey.  He begged me to let him in, and was in a state.  He told me he had made a mistake leaving me.  I let him in and tried to calm him down.  He asked if he could sleep over.  He was emotional.  I was torn.  Part of me was happy he'd come to his senses and realised what he'd lost in leaving me.  The other part of me was cold and shut down.  After having experienced the attentions and kindness of other men, I was no longer attracted to him.
But still, I felt connected to him.  That would never go away.  He had been my soulmate.  The songs we wrote together would forever be a testament to that.  I allowed him to sleep over, in my bed.  I made it patently clear he was not to touch me.  As he lay next to me, I felt sad.  The next morning, it would be years before I ever saw him again." (267-268)

The stories of the songs were surprising.  It always seems like the Fall are singing about conspiracies or manifestos but in truth are just slices of life.  For example, Brix writes about her sleeping problems and reliance on pills in "US 80s-90s":

"My mother's pills came in the prescription bottle with her name on it.  When we landed in Boston, immigration singled us out to be searched --this happened often, being in a rock group; when we came through carrying guitars and music gear we set off internal klaxons inside officials' heads; we practically had stickers on our foreheads saying 'Search me' -- and the customs officials were aggressively questioning us about the prescription pills not in our name.  This experience led us to write our version of a hip-hop track, 'US 80s-90s': 'Had a run-in with Boston immigration/to my name they had an aversion/Nervous droplets due to sleeping tablets....'  In the airport the signs would read, 'Welcome to the United States of America', but we would always get tormented by security and feel like we were entering a police state.  In the song Mark proclaims, 'I am the original white (big shot) rapper', and it's not hyperbole." (222)

She writes often about "Hotel Bloedel" and "LA."  She seems to consider these her best songs.  She wrote a lot of great songs with the band and I think most people consider the "Brix era" to be the second-greatest period in the Fall's catalog (behind the Hex Enduction Hour era).  Certainly she brought the band in a more accessible direction.  Other noteworthy song inspirations include "Carry Bag Man" (about how Mark E. Smith likes to carry around his stuff in plastic bags).  Actually, her causal dismissal of The Frenz Experiment (the last album she would record before re-joining the band as his ex-wife) is worth capture:

"'Carry Bag Man' is fine, and chugs along, but is a phoned-in effort from Mark, a song about how he likes to carry plastic bags.  'Get a Hotel' is just annoying.  'The Steak Place' is boring and conjures images of gross food, the kind of restaurant that might have photos of the food on their menu.  The most annoying song I ever had to play on was 'Oswald Defence Lawyer.'  I think it was the worst song we'd done since I'd joined the band.  It was interminable, and when we played it live I watched the audience switch off.  It makes me cringe today, just thinking about it.  I was expected to really belt it out, but it just sounds irritating and grating: 'Oswald Defense Lawyer embraces the scruffed corpse of Mark Twain.'  It was cool to name-check Twain, though." (238-239)

Brix writes a fair amount about her post-Fall band, Adult Net, and I was dismayed not to be able to find anything on Spotify or Amazon Music.  I would definitely have listened to The Honey Tangle if I could.  Maybe Brix realizes that streaming services will net her approximately zero and that her fans will seek out old copies of the album.  Or likely it's the record label's fault.

I don't want to give away too many details about the book but can say briefly that Brix's parents divorced when she was young and her mother moved to Chicago and she moved around in fairly fancy places with her father in L.A.  There is more than a fair share of celebrity name-dropping in this book.  It's not always totally necessary, but if I was writing my memoir, I would totally do the same thing.  It's the tangents that usually end up being memorable, such as the story of her professional soccer player friend who soils himself on the field and fakes an injury, or the friend at her bachelorette party with a crazy party trick. 

She goes back from her father in L.A. to her mother in Chicago multiple times through her teen years.  She does not have kind things to say about Chicago, but her account of working at Marshall Field's in the Loop was especially charming (sometimes I like to reflect on the significance of being in the same place as another person in recorded history).  She meets Mark E. Smith at Smart Bar after seeing the Fall in concert at the Metro.  What happens is the definition of a whirlwind romance and is completely insane and showcases the true spontaneity of Brix.  She quickly decides to move to England, move in with Mark, and get married.  She becomes a member of the Fall and stays with them for another four years.  This will be the highlight for the majority of readers.  However, Brix's life outside the Fall is arguably more interesting.  For example, her section about being an aspiring-actress-waitress in L.A after being left by Mark and effectively kicked out of the band is especially compelling.  She meets Nigel, a classical violinist, who is apparently quite a sensation, and is led into a different world, seemingly a little more refined but no less debaucherous.  In fact, I'm sorry, but I have to give a snippet of her encounter with Courtney Love, who invites her to audition for Hole:

"....But as I went to sleep, I had a sixth sense that something was wrong.  A bad feeling.  Something was burning.  I got up, out of bed and rushed to Courtney's room and pushed open the door to the master bedroom.  In her room, she had a selection of candles and incense burning.  Two sticks of incense had fallen over and caught fire.  The carpet was aflame and I caught it just in time.  Had I been five minutes later I dread to think what would have happened.  I put out the fire by smothering it with a blanket and stamping on it.  Courtney was in bed, slumped over her computer.  I fleetingly clocked that she had been mid-conversation with Billy Corgan, of The Smashing Pumpkins.
She said, 'Get into bed, sleep on Kurt's side.'  So I did.  It was really weird, but I felt honoured to be asked to sleep there, in her bed, on his side.  Courtney was warm and kind.  I feel she's often misunderstood.  She is a complex person, as we all are.  At times she has been her own worst enemy, but when you get down to it there is kindness and warmth to her, that is not often talked about." (362)

She then proceeds to talk about how Courtney turned her onto Rohypnol, in one of the more outrageous habits detailed in the book.  Later on, she rejoins the Fall briefly, and then meets her current husband, who then opens a fashion store with her in London.  She also co-stars briefly in a reality series, Gok's Fashion Fix, which sounds like it would be amazing to see.  She has an amazing kitchen and is in love with her pugs.

That is pretty much the whole story, but Brix's mysticism is also worth noting.  She seems to have some sort of otherworldly presence.  One could easily write off her ramblings as hippie-ish, vaguely drugged out, but the realities she has known are so insane that I am inclined to believe her if she says she believes in ghosts.  The precognitive powers of Mark E. Smith are also referenced poignantly, in a story I had read before, about the origins of the song, "Disney's Dream Debased."  The story is that she had taken Mark E. Smith with her to Disneyland and they got in line for the Matterhorn and while waiting he said he didn't like the ride, that it was evil, and that he didn't want to go on it.  They rode it anyways and left.  A few minutes later, there was a commotion in the area, and Disneyland employees came out from hidden elevators and Disney characters tried to distract parkgoers' attention from the Matterhorn.  It came out that a woman was killed when she fell out of her car at the unloading zone onto the track, and the next car could not be stopped from dismembering her.  It's a horrifying story and it would be interesting to know what became of the incident legally, whether Disney has publicly acknowledged that it occurred.

There is another truly insane story about Disneyworld (Brix always goes to Disneyland, but goes to Disneyworld for the first time in her late 20's or early 30's) and how Mickey Mouse may or may not be trying to ask her on a date or hook up with her.  This story appears to be in there solely to detail the breakdown of Brix's mind at the time (it is a weirdly hallucinogenic chapter), but she later brings it full circle when she becomes one of the very few to get Mickey Mouse to appear at an event for her fashion store.  Her comment on the usual gender of the person wearing the Mickey Mouse costume is poignant. 

I could go on a lot longer and pick out more passages, but I think I've said pretty much everything I wanted to say about this.  It's a great book, but it occasionally feels like Brix is going through the motions, telling the story because she has to and not necessarily because she wants to.  The grammar is correct and proper, but the writing is not especially complex and definitely devolves into purple prose at times.  However, I would want any friend of mine to read it, regardless of whether they liked the Fall or not.  I think it would make a great movie--"Scenes from Brix" or something, like Moonlight and three different periods in her life.  Not everyone wants to sell the movie rights to their life, but really, you would do it if you could, wouldn't you?

Arctic Monkeys - Humbug

Arctic Monkeys were the biggest English buzz band five years ago and now they are a reliable entity as far as releasing a couple good singles and not stocking up their album with too much filler goes. Then again, I think this is their worst album. And again, not that it's bad, just not as good as their first two.

But there are about five really good songs--"My Propeller," "Crying Lightning," "Potion Approaching," "The Fire and Thud," and "Cornerstone,"--which is probably more than you can say for any previous album. There was speculation that Humbug would be their "stoner rock" album, since Josh Homme produced it in the desert of California. It may sound like that during about three different parts on the album, but it sounds more just like the Arctic Monkeys growing up.

Their sound has definitely matured, and on tracks like "Crying Lightning," it is enhanced. But "Cornerstone" (though listed as a "really good song") is kind of boring, and is only great for its lyrics, which is about finding lookalikes of a lost lover and asking if you can call them by the wrong name.

So basically, same problem with the New Pornographers and Broken Social Scene (though Arctic Monkeys are about 1/5 as "mellow"), the new album just doesn't have a lot of songs like "Brianstorm" or "D is for Dangerous" or "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor" or "From the Ritz to the Rubble." Its songs sound more like "Do Me a Favour"--which was a great song off Favourite Worst Nightmare--but which gets a bit tiresome without much variety surrounding.

I guess I am being picky. Humbug is their "stoner rock" album and it is cool that they worked with Josh Homme, and it's totally possible that the Monkeys will continue on in this direction and put out their next album which doesn't make too many changes. Overall, I am not upset that I bought it, but find it to be somewhat unremarkable. So maybe you can understand why this is such a short post. I didn't even care about writing it in the first place.

In comparison with their Domino labelmates, Humbug is better than Hidden (not as immaculate, but more immediate), but not as good as Your Future Our Clutter.

These New Puritans - Hidden

When we last checked in with These New Puritans, they were putting out their debut around the same time as Vampire Weekend, and I was claiming that they were the better band. Proof? http://flyinghouses.blogspot.com/2008/04/these-new-puritans-beat-pyramid.html

Quote #1 from review of debut:
"TNP won't necessarily be for everyone...."
It may have been clear after Beat Pyramid that TNP did not cater to the masses and did not aspire to radio airplay. But the album still had a very accessible streak running through it. This is not the case with Hidden.

Hidden is arguably the most "difficult" album I have ever heard. It has its moments of accessibility too, but overall it is a very imposing album indeed. Most notable, however, is the degree to which this doesn't even sound like the same band.

It's like a novelist trying to do something completely different (the quick obvious example is Dave Eggers moving from AHWOSG to What is the What, but those were not consecutive releases, both were successful on their own terms, and Dave Eggers is way more visible than TNP in the literary-musical analogy) with their next book so they can prove they can write about more than one topic. I don't think TNP needed to prove anything after Beat Pyramid.

Quote #2:
"...I think it shows that TNP is more interesting than TNV (Times New Viking) or VW (Vampire Weekend), but I don't think they'll get as much attention as either."

Duh. Putting out an album like Hidden will not get them any more attention either. OK. Hidden is a very ambitious album. Maybe it's Kid A in disguise. There. That is the comparison I was looking for.

Except Beat Pyramid wasn't OK Computer. I don't know what fans of TNP are making of this album. I am assuming they trust Jack Barnett and now look towards him as some sort of demi-god. I think he is crazy. There was a great feature on Pitchfork where he said he doesn't think he'll sing on any more albums and where claimed one of his favorite songs was an ultra-obscure selection from Pocahontas. I am assuming he still wears his chain mail armor onstage. In my last post, I mentioned that Kevin Drew is becoming more iconoclastic, but Barnett is way ahead of him, and at this point beyond M.E.S. himself.

I may claim their soon-to-be-former singer/frontman is crazy, but there is a method to it. It does seem to be a concept album about the end of the world. Or global warming. But Hidden is an album you could talk about for hours in trying to assess its meaning.

Not that anyone would--and this is the album's chief defect: it's so different from anything that's come before it that the listener has no bearings. Much mention is made of the lack of guitar on this album. Throw even less lyrics than before into the mix and you have a very moody, largely instrumental and atmospheric album with occasional doses of vicious noise. But unlike Sisterworld, the music is primarily orchestral, and it never veers into anything resembling punk rock.

KEEPING ALL OF THAT IN MIND, "We Want War" contains a beautiful moment or two, "Hologram" is the closest thing to a fully-pleasant experience, "Attack Music" and "Fire-Power" go back-to-back as the most straightforward stuff on the album, "Orion" has a moment or two of greatness, and that "Drum Courts..." song is definitely something, alright.

Quote #3: "However, if they imitate the Fall more on their next album, they will probably deliver album of the year and will be a buzz band two years from now and no one will remember their debut coming out or else they will drop off the face of the Earth and no one will remember them in three years."

Neither happened, but few know who TNP are, and putting out an album like Hidden could be akin to dropping off the face of the Earth (particularly if the album is about the end of the Earth), so it is possible that TNP will become a cultural artifact by 2011 and no one will know they ever existed.

OK. That's not true. They're well-documented. I document them because I care about them. I don't know if Hidden will make my top 10 of 2010--but I doubt it. I just don't think I'll listen to it enough to figure it out to be able to blast it incessantly and gain some kind of pleasure from it. This is a very moody album for moods that almost don't exist--or moods that aren't advisable: ultra-depressed, evil, intellectual, portentous, and (forgive me) pretentious.

If they had listened to my advice, they could have put out a top 10 contender along with their inspirational predecessors on Domino Records, but I have a lot of respect for making a statement like Hidden. I spent money on this album--I'm crazy--and maybe it will sell as well as it needs to--but the only kind of music like this is made to accompany strange and scary movies. Perhaps there is something of Fantomas in here too.

Vampire Weekend put out their sophomore effort too, and while I haven't heard it, I'm assuming it doesn't sound too different from their self-titled. Apparently they experiment a bit, but obviously it's not as ridiculous as the experiment that is Hidden.

I've got my own prediction for the next couple years: in (or by) 2012, if the world isn't already over then Vampire Weekend will put out their third album--their Merriweather Post Pavilion masterpiece that will finally win me over--and TNP will release an album of ambient music as they transform themselves into an artier version of the Kronos Quartet.

In the meantime I will listen to Hidden, probably more often than Beat Pyramid, solely in an attempt to understand its message (and I will emerge from my underground lair with an apparatus that will bring humanity to its knees).

Maybe time travel has something to do with it too.

If there are such things as secret recordings hiding in plain sight....well there are, and this is one of them. The question is whether you think the secret will be worth hearing or not. My opinion is that I can't tell. It should be fairly easy, though, to guess how consumers will react.

The Fall - Your Future Our Clutter

Another rare music review for Flying Houses---the first since Deerhunter's Microcastle in October 2008? Really?

But yes, the last Fall album Imperial Wax Solvent was reviewed here in May or June of 2008, as I recall. All new releases from my favorite bands should be reviewed. With that logic, Sisterworld should be reviewed too (it's a masterpiece, by the way), and the new !!! album when it arrives. Not to mention the new LCD Soundsystem (3 weeks!)

It's hard to say that the Fall were my favorite band back when Imperial Wax Solvent came out--they were probably my favorite band between Fall Heads Roll and Reformation Post TLC--but they hold a very special place in my heart. I have been listening to them for seven or eight years now. There are many albums by them that I still do not have, but I think I am more than an amateur fan. Should the legend be told once more? I think not. M-E-S is in his early fifties and pretty much the most prolific musicial artist of all time besides Robert Pollard. The Fall have been around since the early days of punk in England and have incorporated elements of various genres of popular music over the last thirty years, while staying true to a basic formula that borrows heavily from Can--an insistent beat with inscrutable vocals.

I'm not sure if this album is better than Imperial Wax Solvent. I've lost that album, and I miss listening to "Wolf Kidult Man" and "50 Year Old Man" and "Exploding Chimney" and a couple others ("I've Been Duped!"). It blew Reformation Post TLC and its amateurish production out of the water, and probably bested Fall Heads Roll for most. That said, I think Your Future Our Clutter will be the most critically-acclaimed Fall album in years.

I think this is a very druggy album (as is Sisterworld). There are 9 tracks and they average close to six minutes each. And for the most part, that average holds up. The result is a bizarre listening experience. For what it's worth, the first seven tracks are incredible, and I'm not such a big fan of the last two, though many might call me crazy for making this claim. But why is it druggy? The Fall formula is taken to heavy extremes. The guitars are loud, and it almost seems as if the same crunchy riff persists throughout the entire album. This isn't necessarily a bad thing.

Let's talk about the title first, and the two songs that reference it. It seems confusing--Your Future Our Clutter is the title, but I think it has also gone by Our Future Your Clutter. I have no idea what this phrase means--but for me it means all the clutter my family will accumulate over the years that one day in the future I will have to sift through and throw away, sell, save, burn, or use. Or even more to the point--will Fall albums become clutter, as their profuse number renders each less significant? But the songs. The first track is the most energetic opening Fall track in years. Hard to say since when, but I'm going to say "Lay of the Land" from 1984's Wonderful and Frightening World of the Fall, an album that this is often compared to as it is the shortest (in terms of track number) since. That's a tall order, but the album opens brilliantly.

"Bury Parts 1 + 2" is indicative of the "druggy" atmosphere of the album, with the opening part "buried" in lo-fi production, opening up to another stomper of a track. This is arguably better than the first track.

"Mexico Wax Solvent" is another entry in the "inscrutable song title" file. What is wax solvent, and why is this song on this album? I have no clue, but this is another strong track, the best parts being about Aqua Rosa, which is apparently a beauty academy, and 12-year-old doctors giving M-E-S advice so he "can't stand up anymore."

"Cowboy George" is my least favorite of the first 7 tracks, but still more interesting than the last two, I think. There is apparently a Daft Punk sample in this song but I don't know enough about them to recognize it. Note that all first four tracks are quite long--all about six minutes.

"Hot Cake," then is a brief respite from the intense, druggy, relentless hammering--or actually it's not, but it's the shortest song up to this point. It's still over three minutes.

Then you get to the two best tracks. "O.F.Y.C./Slippy Floor" is the most immediate thing on the album. The first time you hear it you take notice. I do find it a bit repetitive and boring now, but the first five or ten times I heard it, I nearly didn't believe it. To me the closest reference point is "C'N'C'/Hassle Schmuck" which was a live song performed about twenty-eight years ago, an alternative reading of "C'N'C' Smitherin" off of Grotesque--but while that song features an iconic vocal melody in the second part, "Slippy Floor" does sound a bit like the Arctic Monkeys, as one other reviewer has already pointed out. It's very fast, and very loud, and M-E-S does some of his best ranting in years on this track. This is also the longest song on the album.

"Chino" comes next and is probably the best song on the album. I don't think anybody would say "Chino" is not the best song on the album. It seems like it's about possibly disbanding the Fall. "When do I quit?/When do I quit?" It's unsettling, a bit menacing, and totally badass. I think a lot of people want to point to this song and declare this the last Fall album.

I really don't think this will be the last one, but it does seem like a perfect penultimate one.

"Funnel of Love" (a cover of a song by Wanda Jackson) and "Weather Report #2" end the album. Neither appeals to me all that much. The first time I heard this leaked copy of the album, the last track was first, and I thought the wrong files had been copied--the opening of the song sounds nothing like the Fall. "Weather Report #2" ends in a kind of scary way with M-E-S saying "you don't deserve rock n roll" as the album peters out. More swan song indications.

The Fall haven't toured America since 2006. I hope they will come here to tour this album. I sort of highly doubt that it will happen but they are unpredictable. This is a high-quality album from a band that has had its share of misses, and one that will only build their legend further. Since it is on Domino Records, let's hope the Fall have a better chance of entering the public consciousness and let's hope they acquire the respect they deserve.

The Hacienda: How Not to Run a Club - Peter Hook

I was hoping that Peter Hook's first book would be a tell-all affair about his years with Joy Division and New Order, but that is clearly not indicated by the title. The Hacienda opened in 1982 and was effectively owned by the four members of New Order along with various other associates from Factory Records. It lasted for fifteen years, and Hook states that it was a pretty good run, in comparison with similar ventures.

This book is not as much about the post-punk scene in Manchester as it is about acid-house, which perhaps affected my enjoyment of it. Whether or not the acid-house genre has its merits, I simply never see myself being able to get into that sort of music. For those that enjoy clubbing and/or taking ecstasy, this book will be a revelation as it details the birth of that movement, more or less.


Perhaps the best thing this book did for me is give me knowledge of a couple more people and places referenced in the LCD Soundsystem song, "Losing My Edge." The significance of Larry Levan and the Paradise Garage, along with seeing Gil Scott-Heron's name in print. I am just kidding of course. Hook is a natural and gifted storyteller and his perspective probably provides the definitive glimpse into this very unique space and era in club culture.


Danceteria and the other New York clubs that inspired the Hacienda seem like they would have been fun places to hang out in the early 1980s, but no sign remained of them as far as I knew in 2001. So too the Hacienda--except you start to wonder, towards the end, how nobody seemed particularly bothered by the prevalence of gangs, guns, and violence inside the club. The ethos behind the place has been touched upon previously in 24 Hour Party People--anarchy, art, and hedonism before business. Its structure is more reminiscent of the Guggenheim or other museums of modern art than the typical monotony of a rectangular dance floor and giant speakers. The concept was fantastic, but it almost never turned a profit, and Hook concedes towards the end, when his accountant asks him if he is doing it for his investments or for his ego, that he viewed it as his own private playground.

The Hacienda began more as a concert venue, and quickly turned into a place to hear DJs play. The Fall and A Certain Ratio are the only two bands that lasted the entire duration of the club, playing in its first and last years. In the late 80s and early 90s, maybe one or two bands actually played there. The reader is able to keep track of every single event ever hosted at the club, as Hook structures the book on a year-by-year basis, with a calendar attached. This can be fun at times to see, but then sometimes he includes the accounts of the club, or notes from the minutes of club owners' meetings, and sometimes I wonder why. Of course we know that the Hacienda performed poorly financially, but the numbers are just difficult to understand in general. If you are an accountant, or studying to be one, I suppose these pages will be alluring. Also, of course everything is English and accounted for in pounds, so wondering about the conversion rate, not to mention the inflation rate from twenty-five years ago, makes some of this practically irrelevant for American readers, so much so that certain statements make little or no sense:

"Think about it: the Hacienda cost f344,000 to build in 1981. That's equivalent to about three-million now. If you spent three million on a club today people would think you were potty." (31)

I guess he means, it was really expensive. But to me, that doesn't seem that expensive. I don't know. If Danceteria had six floors of party-zones, I'd be amazed if it cost less than $10 million to buy in 2009--but that is New York and maybe Manchester's property costs are not as high.

There are the typical stories of legendary characters, like one I think I had heard before, of one of my heroes, M-E-S:

"I like the Fall. Always have, and they played at the club loads of times. I think Mark E. Smith is a twat, though. A right obnoxious bastard. And he's proud of it. One of his ex-girlfriends told me that he sometimes has for breakfast Guinness and cornflakes with his favourite stimulant sprinkled on them. He denies this, which is quite funny. Must be why you've got such great teeth, Mark. We're great friends." (63)

Or another one of my heroes, in an unlikely and hilarious revelation:

"The other highlight of The Tube day was an interview with Morrissey and Rob. Now I don't know why, but Morrissey had always hated Joy Division. Maybe Rob got it right when after a lively debate as the cameras were turned off he turned to Morrissey and said, 'The trouble with you, Morrissey, is that you've never had the guts to kill yourself like Ian. You're fucking jealous.' You should have seen his face as he stormed off. I laughed me bollocks off." (79)

There is also the story of Madonna's first show outside of New York--at the Hacienda--as well as weird stories about Nico, and Hook's drug-fueled attempted seduction of one of the singers from the B-52's. Mostly what comes across, during the second half of this volume, is the insanity of the drugs and gang violence that enveloped the club. Hook reveals that he eventually sought treatment and is now sober. But along the way--particularly during the wild "interlude" taking place in Ibiza--he consumed a redoubtable number of E's.

This is required reading for anyone that cares about Manchester and its music scene--but die-hard New Order fans will not find too many salacious details. There is a bit of talk about the Technique album, and there are hints about the band's demise, but nothing outright. Hook mentions that he and Bernard Sumner both went to the Hacienda a lot, but never together. They simply weren't friends outside of the band, which makes me sad, though it probably shouldn't. They broke up and reformed several times--after Republic, and then after Get Ready in 2001 and finally Waiting for the Siren's Call in 2005. So for the last five years they have been defunct, so to speak. Hook has stated that the band is broken up, but the other members have said that it is only he who has left.

Would I go to see a Hook-less New Order? Sure. I would go to see Bad Lieutenant if I could. Should Hook drop his grudge and should New Order put out another album? Yes. Waiting for the Siren's Call is probably their worst album, I'm going to go out on a limb and say, but there are still a couple good songs on it--and a couple is better than none. In any case they should definitely do a reunion tour because they would make so much money now that it would make their heads spin. For all of the debt that the Hacienda put them into, they could stand to put aside their differences one more time for the fans.

It was recently reported that Hook is now opening a new nightclub in Manchester--Fac251--on the site of the old Factory Records offices. The Hacienda site has been turned into a condo development, which Hook actually likes, because it would be pretty cool to live at the locale of a former historical landmark. Hook's new club is opening in 10 days. I wonder if writing this book made him nostalgic for his halcyon days. Hopefully he cares about reading reviews of his first book. There is a hint of a Joy Division book to come in the acknowledgements section. His authorial debut is a success, and one hopes there will be a sophomore effort. I am sure he gets sick of people telling him that New Order should get back together, for the fifth time or whatever it is, but add one more annoying voice to the collection: New Order is as much of an institution as the greatest musical entities in history still extant--the Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Sonic Youth, the Fall, Lou Reed, David Bowie, and Iggy Pop--and I hope their final chapter is not yet written.

The Fall - Imperial Wax Solvent

Well finally, here we are at the review for the next Fall album. It was "officially released" in the UK on April 29, and nowhere is it being sold in the U.S. Thus, limewire. Will I buy the album when it comes out? Good question.

It's certainly worth the $15, but since I already have the tracks in my I-tunes, unless there's something extra that makes it worth the price, I'm not going to shell out for something I already have. Narnack Records and Castle Records should learn how to deal with MES if they want better record sales. Maybe MES doesn't want to appeal to American audiences (highly doubtful), but keeping the record unavailable in the States, but available via British import (with it usually being an "out of stock" item) or for free via illegal file-sharing, well, makes the question a bit easier. There is a lesson here for the record industry, but it's really irrelevant. The Fall are truly in their own class.

Imperial Wax Solvent, then, is a return to their string of successful albums like 2000's The Unutterable, 2004's The Real New Fall LP, and 2005's Fall Heads Roll. Some may argue with me about the merits of the final mention, and I can understand why production values may turn some off this album, but regardless, "Blindess" is on it, and "Pacifying Joint" continues to be played frequently on Fall sets, to say nothing of "What About Us?" 2007's Reformation Post TLC suffered from lesser production and seemingly half-written songs. Still, "Systematic Abuse" and "Reformation" to a certain extent were very good songs, and I still like "The Wright Stuff" and "Scenario" is an awesome song live. I think Reformation Post TLC could have been as good an album as any of those three if it had been more fully fleshed out. But perhaps "Insult Song," which pokes fun at the backing musicians at the time, three Americans from L.A. County, could symbolize that era--MES had respect for the Americans, they proved themselves worthy, but it was all sort of a joke to begin with (having been incited by the plantain-throwing incident which ended in the Fall Heads Roll lineup abandoning MES, and Narnack Records stepping in to find replacement musicians---INTERESTINGLY ENOUGH an event that a good friend of mine happened to work out administratively, strangely enough, dumb Narnack Records, Brooklyn hipsters, had no clue what to do with the Fall. You don't get the Fall signed to your record label and misunderstand how to market them.): The Darker My Love replacement scheme, however, worked out well in the end because everyone got along, and an album resulted from it--"the tape they were wasting..."

Some have already hailed Imperial Wax Solvent as the best album the Fall have done since 1982's Hex Enduction Hour. I would say that praise is, a bit inflated. For one thing, the Fall in 2008 aren't the same thing as the Fall in 1982. True, there are still really weird songs, but MES is not spewing the kind of verbosity on display in Grotesque, anymore, but his mentality is no less punk. Of course, punk is probably the wrong word for it at this point. How about "no less cantankerous" or "no less alcohol drenched" or "no less hubris-filled?" I feel cruel at that last one. MES is not hubristic. No one can attest to his career. There is no one else like him. Mick Jagger, one can draw comparisons to him. Bob Dylan, one can certainly draw comparisons to. Neil Young, perhaps, one can draw comparisons to. Bowie, Lou Reed, and Iggy Pop, you could compare. But MES is younger than the bunch, more prolific than the bunch, more underground than the bunch, more lukewarmly-received than the bunch, and, unlike all the others, has maintained a consistent quality output with much shorter "weak" periods. It's fair to say the Fall and Sonic Youth are about equals in terms of prolificacy, quality, cultural importance, and influence. Imperial Wax Solvent is about as good as Rather Ripped, which is to say, it's surprising they got it so right.

IWS does not always get it right, but the first six tracks or so do, and to some minds that is enough to reason the buy the LP. Opener "Alton Towers" continues in the vein of weird opening Fall tracks like "Ride Away" or "Mansion"--songs that don't fit with the rest of the album, or enhance the mood of their surrounding pieces. It goes on for a while, and MES says something about "You look very different," and it ends, and "Wolf Kidult Man" starts and you remember why the Fall are the best band ever.

"Wolf Kidult Man" could easily be a single on the radio, but it is hard to say how close the Fall come to approximating the perfect 3 minute pop song. Their version of it is so twisted, I wonder if it really could be played on the radio today. "Blindess" was used in the Mitsubishi Outlander commercial to stupefying effect. Henry Rollins commented on it on his show on IFC, saying it was okay for bands to license their music, because it meant more people liking it (massive paraphrase). Well, I don't see the Fall's audience expanding rapidly because of a commercial now do I? I just feel like a dork when I listen to it. But that's not true--it's an awesome song anyways.

Regardless of whether or not "Wolf Kidult Man" could be a radio hit, "50 Year Old Man," the third track, is 12 minutes long, and that really says it all. It is, in a way, a bit of a sequel to "Hip Priest"--incredibly long, MES ostensibly talking about himself, talking about "imitating" in both--but also much more catchy than "Hip Priest," much louder, and much more structurally complex, with four separate "movements" or whatever you want to call them. It's an amazing song, with MES saying "I've got 3/4 Rock Hard On, but I'm too busy, to use it," "I go in a hotel, I go through a towel, I throw it down, and I piss in it," "I'm a 50 year old man, and I like it," "I'm inferior product man, at 2/3 the cost, and I'm proud of it." Inscrutable, or incredibly telling?

"I've Been Duped" keeps the energy going by having MES's wife take the vocals, and it is about as good a song as "The Wright Stuff," (except there's no line about "I'm a celebrity, get me out of here!") and indeed is probably more catchy and radio-friendly than most other tracks remaining.

The Groundhogs' "Strangetown" is the requisite MES cover song, after the Move's "I Can Hear the Grass Grow" and Merle Haggard's "White Line Fever." Each of the three is awesome. "Strangetown," honestly, is probably the weakest of them. However, it's strangely optimistic/realistic delivery keeps it interesting enough until "Taurig."

"Taurig" is the requisite experimental MES track, along the lines of "Das Boot" or "Paintwork" or "Unutterable." But this is a really good experimental track. It's extremely repetitive (duh) and it almost sounds as if MES has been influenced in his own way from working with Mouse on Mars in Von Sudenfed. In general, this is a very good thing. The Fall would be relevant if anybody cared, or if they wanted anybody to care.

I can't really dismiss the rest of the album. "Can Can Summer," "Tommy Shooter," "Latch Key Kid," "Is This New," "Senior Twilight Stock Replacer" and "Exploding Chimney" are no worse than the first six tracks. They are just not as interesting. They're all basically pop songs, or the closest "generic" sound to what the Fall offer in the studio at the present moment.

So, this album may have some "filler" on it, but eh, it will still probably make my top 10 of 2008. Then again those spots are filling up quickly.

The Fall (La Chute) - Albert Camus

La Chute by Albert Camus was published in 1957. That is the same year that he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. It is eleven years after L'Etranger, nine years after La Peste, trois annees apres L'homme Revolte, et deux annees apres Le Mythe de Sisyphe. Camus est un ecrivain super. Mais, ma francais, c'est fou. Vocabulary is much easier to summon in English.

We must situate Camus in a context. He was 44 when he won the Nobel. He died three years later in a car crash, and I remember reading somewhere that a "lost" manuscript was discovered amongst the wreckage of the vehicle. Is there an element to absurd reasoning we can cull from his end? It is not worth it. His literature should suffice for clues. One tends to consider The Stranger, the first and most popular book by him, a very influential text in terms of its literary style, (while in fact Camus had been influenced by early 20th century American "noir" writers, e.g. James Cain, which is where Meursault's style of speaking comes from) when seeking the heart of Camus's famous perspective. However, this is not about that inarguably classic text, nor is it about the rather difficult to follow Rebel or Sisyphus, one of which I've read and the other of which I always give up after three pages after I tell myself that this time, I am going to get it.

The Fall certainly needs to be situated in a context. I read it about three years ago in Hilton Head, SC to celebrate my graduation my college and because I had just started listening to the band the Fall, who I heard had gotten their name from the novel. Not to mention the fact that they named one album Bend Sinister after a Vladimir Nabokov novel. They are a very literary band. Their singer is more of a writer than a musician. But when I read The Fall the first time, I didn't really understand it. I got it out of the public library in SC and it was packaged in a stark, black volume without any explanatory comments beyond the text itself. I read it, and was totally mystified by it. I had no idea what was going on. I just remember that the ending was really good. It's short. It's only 140 pages. It's comparable length to The Stranger, but there is nothing of that novel's story in it. Whatever story is contained in The Fall, I think, is largely incidental.

This time I saw it and it was the regular Vintage International edition and I decided to give it another try because I've listened to significantly higher amounts of the Fall since then, and I am in a more solid position in life (though that statement is something of a joke as well!), able to take things slowly and consider the author's purpose more clearly. There was a lot of help this time.

First of all, there is the epigraph from Lermontov, in which Camus more or less defines the entire novel. I will quote the epigraph for your synopsis pleasures:

"Some were dreadfully insulted, and quite seriously, to have held up as a model such an immoral character as A Hero of Our Time; others shrewdly noticed that the author had portrayed himself and his acquaintances....A Hero of Our Time, gentlemen, is in fact a portrait, but not of an individual; it is the aggregate of the vices of our whole generation in their fullest expression."

One could say one dodges some individual bullets when they take up the task of taking humanity to task on their inexpiable guilt. However it is not fair to claim that, as Camus's method leaves some ambiguities up to the reader. There were many moments when I thought maybe Camus was seriously just talking about himself, because the main character (I will get to this in a moment) may be a little bit shady, but it is such a clear picture of a person's judgmental faculties that I do not think it can help but be somewhat personal for Camus. I don't think he ever saw the woman on the quay in Paris, or heard the laughter behind him, or even set up shop in Amsterdam, but I do think his pronouncements about the whole of humanity, about the instincts in every human being, ring true enough to be an individual opinion, and not some survey of past institutional transgressions. Yes, there are great parts, as when he describes the spitting chamber as being an invention of man, not God, or when he nonchalantly makes a reference to the Holocaust, "I was interned near Tripoli in a camp where we suffered from thirst and destitution more than from brutality. I'll not describe it to you. We children of the mid-century don't need a diagram to imagine such places. A hundred and fifty years ago, people became sentimental about lakes and forests. Today we have the lyricism of the prison cell." (123-124)

We must be very conscious of Camus's first words in the novel, so famous are the first words in The Stranger (need I repeat them or do I run the risk of talking down to my audience? As yourselves: Do you prefer the colloquial or the formal--Maman, ou ma mere?). In La Chute, it is "May I, monsieur, offer my services without running the risk of intruding?" (3) Given the context of the situation, this is one of the best opening lines in all of literature, too. I long to go to a bar alone and walk up to someone and say, "May I, M. or Mme., offer my services without running the risk of intruding?" It is much better than saying, "Do you mind if I sit here?" Of course, any normal person in 2008 would be like, "What?" They wouldn't be able to hear over the din of the music blasted for what purpose I know not, maybe to hide the fact that nobody in bars is capable of serious conversation beyond, eye contact, drink-buying, being impressive, and all those other things I hate to think about in connection with "going out to the bars." No, I'd much rather go to Mexico City, the bar where most of The Fall takes place.

Mexico City is in Amsterdam, one confusing instance of nomenclature that I am unable to deconstruct (and my old adviser used to always tell me, "Deconstructionism is dead," so maybe I won't try). And the man who utters the opening line, is the man who will utter every line in the book. Jean-Baptiste Clamence is his name, and he talks to some unknown character, which in the end the reader can only take to be himself, despite the fact that we are not generally in a bar in Amsterdam when we are reading The Fall. Thus, the structure of this novel is one of its most significant elements. It is delivered in one fell swoop monologue, but unlike any other first-person novel before it. The "you" being addressed sometimes says things that are not printed, and Clamence will respond to that action so you can fill in the blank yourself with what happened, but it retains the air of mystery as most all of the action of the novel is enshrouded by Clamence's duplicity.

You cannot be sure if he is telling the truth, and you cannot be sure if he is lying, and this is why The Fall is one of the more hidden gems in the recent history of Western Literature: the conceit mimics reality. Do you trust your friends? What about someone you meet in a bar and hangs on you for the next four days---but it even appears that you enjoy Clamence's company! Indeed, at the end of the novel, you even go to Clamence's house and have your final discussion with him while he is in bed! You go out of your way for him! But the mystery of Clamence, and why he says what he does, and why he feels the need to say all this, this is the closest thing you can find to "plot" in the novel. It may not even be called a novel! It might be more accurately described as a philosophical essay. I believe at heart it is interested in the question of whether or not a person can admit their own guilt in a situation. When do people talk about the bad things they've done in their past? Never! No one does that, except me. Perhaps that is why I like this novel. And Clamence does not so much talk about the bad things he's done in his past as he makes excuses for all of his bad behavior, most especially his attitude towards women. But then, you can never be sure if he is just saying something for effect, or if he is actually telling the truth. His story about being named the "pope" of the prison camp seems a tad absurd in the context of the story he tells about it, but the story of the woman jumping into the Seine to her death does ring true, as does the mysterious laughter that unnerved him. But the duplicity in the novel, while it is not far from authentic experience, also lends an element of frustration to it. Clamence sums it up himself near the end when he says, "You see, a person I knew used to divide human beings into three categories: those who prefer having nothing to hide rather than being obliged to lie, those who prefer lying to having nothing to hide, and finally those who like both lying and the hidden. I'll let you choose the pigeonhole that suits me." (119)

So you can never be sure, or rather, the novel can be read two different ways, but will inevitably read the third, and probably the only way. Regardless, the text is a treasure. Camus could barely have tried to write a more "punk rock" novel than The Fall while receiving the Nobel the same year. And it is not lacking in the profundity of his other work. Finally, before I wrap things up, it is worth noting Clamence's profession, which also serves as the "plot" of the novel. He is a judge-penitent. The second chapter opens up with, "What is a judge-penitent? Ah, I intrigued you with that business." So the reader anticipates finding out what a judge-penitent actually does and the answer may be less surprising than they realize. However, Clamence used to be a lawyer, and he mostly talks about his life outside that profession throughout the work. One other thing I want to do in bars after reading this: when people ask me, "what do you do?", I want to tell them, "I'm a judge-penitent." And when they say, "What's a judge-penitent?" I will try to explain myself appropriately.

Finally, why would the Fall name their group after this work? This is the question I sought to answer the first time reading it, when I was a Fall amateur and only had Bend Sinister, A World Bewitched (collection of 90's material) and This Nation's Saving Grace. Now I have like fifteen or twenty more albums than that and am a Fall fanatic.

It is not a coincidence that this book is reviewed on the day that Imperial Wax Solvent is released. This review is a dedication to that band and their singer. But really, why would MES name his group after the book? Well, for one thing I didn't realize, it was published the same year he was born. (Thus I should name my group The Language Perverts, but it doesn't quite have the same ring to it now does it?) The conceit of the book though is not far off from the conceit of their music. Their music is not necessarily accessible, but still catchy most of the time. Same goes for the book--it's really weird, but it's written in relatively simple language, betraying the complexity of its total meaning. Does MES mimic Clamence, in that the book is one long first person screed and the Fall's music sometimes looks like one person's long 30 year screed? Yes, MES is interested in taking the piss out of hypocrites, and The Fall can more or less be seen as a treastise on human hypocrisy. MES obviously has a far wider range of subject matter, but the foundations of his early artistic r'aison d'etre (on display through, say, Hex Enduction Hour) may have their seeds in this work by Camus. Regardless of whether you like that band, or Camus, The Fall is an interesting book to check out, but a difficult one to write about, and probably a hard one to talk about, but you cannot deny that it is perfect company for a barfly. And if you ever find yourself at a bar in Amsterdam by yourself, this is inevitably the situation you want to imagine yourself in.

These New Puritans - Beat Pyramid

Buzz bands come in all shapes and sizes, but English buzz bands tend to wander around the same territory. That is post-punk. These New Puritans follow after the Arctic Monkeys and the Klaxons in the mining of similar influences (Gang of Four chief amongst them). TNP even share a certain quality with Art Brut. And actually, they sound a lot like Franz Ferdinand at times too. It's just too bad that Vampire Weekend had to come in and spoil everyone's fun...TNP might sell a few copies in the UK, but I am 90% sure they will never be more popular than any of those above-mentioned post-punk revivalist bands in America. Bloc Party will continue to dominate the genre in this country, and it's getting dicey to call Franz Ferdinand post-punk when they share a certain quality with Interpol, and then you're starting to lose your post-punk dedication to driving beats, an attitude beyond pissed off, and some atonality/avante-garde noise textures thrown in to separate the bandwagon-jumping frat boys from the more sneering snobs of modern rock criticism. TNP won't necessarily be for everyone, but they do what's been done before as well as anybody to come along in recent years. And their name is a reference to a Fall song (a fact no one ever mentions, which just goes to show that the Fall continue to be unappreciated, despite overwhelming evidence that they may in fact be one of the greatest groups of all time), so they have to have some intelligence, right?

The album starts fast and doesn't let up for a good long while. Ignoring the transitional/"fake" tracks that consist of a few seconds of noise experimentation (such as the opening and closing tracks, "ce I will say" and "This twice, I will" or whatever the cut off is, further giving the appearance of the album as a cryptogram), opener "Numerology (Numbers)" could be a single and features the infectious barked interrogative, "What's your favorite number? What does it mean?" Singer/guitarist Jack Barnett then goes into detail about what most of the numbers from 1-9 represent ("Number 1, is the individual, Number 2, duality...") and the song is extremely thought-provoking.

If the first track isn't catchy enough to be a single then the second track "Colours" might be, but I feel it's also the most reductive track on the album. It opens up with a huge slashing guitar and a big, bounding beat of the drums, then Barnett, "If not now well then when? If not now well then when?" He starts going off about different colors or something and then settles on "Gold! Gold! Gold!" as the chorus line, which is probably the worst part of the album, but succeeds very well in sounding like Franz Ferdinand.

Following track, "Swords of Truth" opens up with a sample that could be taken off a hip hop track. Then the drums come in again, and I can only describe it as sounding like a sped-up version of "Spector vs Rector" with Barnett giving his best MES derivation when he sings "This music is weightless, This music's so funny, And when I sing, So am I, you'll be slashing at the air..." then it goes into its crazy instrumental chorus part that also sounds like "Spector vs Rector"'s inscrutable utterances. Yes, I love "Swords of Truth" because it sounds most like the Fall than any other track.

"Doppelganger" is a 90 second instrumental break from the proceedings. It could almost be on a Deerhunter or Atlas Sound album if the more electronic elements of it were toned down.

"C. 16th +-" is hard to properly document with the symbols available on they keyboard, but it is a really cool song that is also single-worthy. It's much more fast-paced and restless than "Colours" and so might be the best candidate for radio play--but it's also really short and is just about how Barnett keeps repeating, "We were right we were right we were right we were right," but it's really awesome.

"En Papier" comes in like another Fall-track, gradually adding instrumentation after each bar until Barnett enters. There is a really cool bass part that comes in after the chorus as well as a little instrumental breakdown. It sounds somewhat similar to "Colours," is not as fast as "C. 16th" but may serve as the most representative track of the album as a whole. It references the themes of the other songs and conceals whatever message it may contain behind a wall "kitchen sink"-type experimental instrumentation, which drowns out the last minute of the song.

"Infinity Ytinifni" also sounds like it could be a single upon its opening and expands upon the already stated TNP formula, but then turns it into probably the best song so far on the album. It's the song where Barnett goes off about "the Pre-Socratics" and "Heraclitus" and "conspiracy theories" and the hits upon the chorus, "Infinity's not far for me" or does it turn into "Infinity's not as fast as me." ?

"Elvis" is a pretty amazing song, that I think actually is the first single off the album. It's very direct--"We're being watched by experts," could be about the buzz surrounding them. Whatever, "Elvis" might be the best song on the album. It stays more confined within pop parameters than anything else here. It may not be as interesting for the fact, but this would be this album's "A-Punk," except, as shown, it is not clearly the best song on the album, it only might be. Any song could be anyone's favorite on this one, I think.

After "Elvis," there's "9 $" (four pounds-retarded US keyboard currency exchange rate), and I have no clue what it's about. It's not annoying, but it's probably not in the running for best song on the album, though it is a pretty tidy number. "MKK3" is another pretty short song starting with your basic Gang of Four guitar slashing and bass chugging and is a good example of how Barnett can also sound like Art Brut's Eddie Argos at times. However, TNP is better than Art Brut because while they do not offer as crazy lyrics or sentiments, their message is nowhere near as clear, thus they are not quite as easy to pin down or write off.

"Navigate Colours" introduces the bizarre end to the album after a little sonic-palette cleansing, and actually sounds like a sadder, post-punk song. It sounds more like Interpol than anything else here. It's probably better than "Colours" and goes off into something different from anything else on the album by its last two minutes.

"H." is a thirty-second transitional track before closer "Costume." This is a very strange song. Very somber. Almost sounds like the Knife at first blush. Then it almost sounds weirdly enough like Sunset Rubdown when the synthesizer and vocals come in. Except Barnett doesn't sound like Spencer Krug--his voice is more fragile here than anywhere else, but it is kept simple and somber, without veering into melodrama. By the end it becomes layered and almost sounds like Radiohead-type ambitions.

That's everything on the album, and I think it shows that TNP is more interesting than TNV or VW, but I don't think they'll get as much attention as either. They aren't all that original in terms of the territory they're working within, and they sound too much like other bands. However, if they imitate the Fall more on their next album, they will probably deliver album of the year and will be a buzz band two years from now and no one will remember their debut coming out or else they will drop off the face of the Earth and no one will remember them in three years. Still, a very promising debut, and a hint of more exciting things to come in from the English music scene.