Twenty Albums of Inspiration Part One

Twenty Albums of Inspiration Part One

Albums 1 to 5

1. Swell Maps-A Trip To Marineville

 

Apparently this was one of Kurt Cobain’s favourite records although I’m not going to let that put me off.

(I would have written something about Buzzcocks “Spiral Scratch” E.P. and how that much more than any old tat from the Clash or the Pistols or whichever big bankrolled punk band gave me a moment of total inspiration and made me realise that music would never be the same again. But that was a single rather than an album so…)

In some ways, and even more so than “Spiral Scratch”, this slice of beauty from Swell Maps was equally as life-changing. Swell Maps weren’t from London or from some fashionable punk haven; and therefore not hanging onto some old pub-rock coat tails. They stemmed from the West Midlands and back when this album came out in 1979 they showed up punk for the tired old routine that it had already become.

I must listen to this album at least once a year after all this time and it still sounds as fresh to me as the day when I first got it. What I like about this album-what I love and treasure about this album- is that on the cusp of post punk and the dog days of punk, that Swell Maps showed there was an alternative. They were derided at the time for being the new Pink Floyd and accusations of improvisation and experimentation were thrown at them as if that was criticism enough. As they defiantly sung on this record though, “Do you believe in art?” and, in a telling barb at their punk contemporaries, “You chose to join in, I chose attack/ I could have given in but I’m not like that.”  

What Swell Maps presented was a true alternative; not one based on posturing, safety pins and bondage trousers (with all that inferred pretence at misplaced anger) but something fiercely intelligent; something deeper and much more honest.  

2. Young Marble Giants- Colossal Youth         

 

A quiet record; not loud quiet loud in a Pixies-sense but just a quiet record. A record that’s best listened to on a rain-filled Saturday afternoon in winter; everything that’s needed to be done has either been done or left to one side. You’ve got time on your hands-maybe an hour or so. There’s a fire on and you’ve sat down with a cup of tea and a plate of crumpets; or a coffee and some teacakes, it doesn’t really matter what combination. The rain is streaking down the windows and there’s nothing worth watching on the television. (It is Saturday afternoon, after all). You’ve been up since early morning and, for once, there’s no-one else in the house. You have a bit of time for yourself. You flick through numerous records and CDs but aren’t in the mood for anything too noisy or bombastic. On the other hand, it’s too much of a cliché to be listening to anything that’s too much ambient; you don’t want to have background music either. You prevaricate between something that’s really too rock and roll for the mood and something that’s too jazz or classical tinged. It doesn’t seem quite right; nothing seems to fit. As you scan along the shelves (being aware that the tea is getting cold and that crumpets are best eaten warm) you are tempted by one of Neil Young’s records but that’s a bit too histrionic for this afternoon. Luckily, nestled next to Mr Young is the perfect record-this album by Young Marble Giants.

I cannot think of a record that is less “rock” than this one. In fact, I can’t think of a way to describe it to anyone who’s never heard it. I can’t think of any other record or band that sounded like YMG’s either before or after. I can’t put them in comparison to any other group. I can’t see who they were influenced by or if they influenced anybody else after they broke up. Like most things that are pretty near perfect, YMG’s were so simple and so obvious it was surprising that no-one made music like they did. This album just appeared out of nowhere, fully-formed and brilliant. There’s just a bass, rhythm guitar and the sparse, clear, tentative vocals of Alison Statton. There’s no percussion and I don’t even think they used a drum machine. Just simple, beautiful songs that fit so well on a rainy Saturday afternoon.      

3. Jelly Roll Morton-The Complete Library of Congress Recordings

One of my favourite records but also one of the most inspirational and most influential. I only heard this a few years ago when it the subject of a Radio 4 documentary.  I can’t remember who presented it but they raved so much about it that I thought there must be something about it that would be worth hearing in full. It’s an 8 CD set and it cost a fair bit but is worth every penny. The whole thing lasts one minute short of nine hours long and is comprised of a series of interviews conducted by Alan Lomax with Jelly Roll Morton in 1938, interspersed with Morton playing many songs. I guess it’s closer to a massive novel or a series of films than a record.

What’s so good about this recording; and what is inspirational and above all, utterly fascinating, is Morton’s tales of life in New Orleans in the 1890’s and early 1900’s. He’s a fantastic pianist and singer, but an even better teller of stories. He’s not backwards at coming forwards and at times he’s so over the top that it’s unbelievable.  He not only recounts how considers that he was really solely responsible for the invention of jazz but goes deep into his family history as well as painting a vivid picture of life in the city. It’s about the working life of a musician and what he had to do to become so successful. What I like about it is that he makes it all sound as if it was only happening yesterday rather than nearly a century ago. I’m sitting here thousands of miles away and decades later and I wonder if it would ever have crossed his mind that his words would have echoed down the years. (After hearing him I think that it would have been the very least he would have expected!)

This is history but not that dry, academic history. It would be simplistic to just see it as something of interest to jazz buffs but really because blues and jazz gave birth to everything that followed, for anyone who has a passing interest in music it’s got to be worth a listen.    

As it lasts for nine hours I could write about it for a lot longer than this. I’ve listened to it all the way through probably two or three times a year since I got it and every time I hear something different and get something new out of it. 

4. Swans-Public Castration Is A Good Idea 

I could be really arsey at this point and rabbit on and on about Swans; over-intellectualise the point to the point where it all becomes meaningless. That’s not what this is about and that to me certainly isn’t what this Swans record is about.

Clearly, this is not a comedy record. 

In fact I can’t think of anything more bereft of humour than this. It’s grim beyond grimness and isn’t something that I play to whistle along to when I’m cleaning the windows. Many of the tracks on these 20 albums that I find particularly inspirational are ones that send a shiver down my spine, or a tear to my eye or a lump to my throat. In that sense I admit there is a tendency for me to lapse into hopeless sentimentalism at the drop of a needle on a record. I If I had a choice of twenty one records then I’m sure that Paul McCartney may have well put in an appearance with “Goodnight Tonight” or “My Love”.  But I didn’t and he hasn’t, and this Swans record may be many things but it’s not one of those records that has me pretending that I’ve got a bit of dust in my eye.

So why does it inspire me? What is there about it that warrants its inclusion here? Like I said I don’t wish to over play the point but I admire something that is unremittingly stark and single-minded. It’s more than that, more than simple admiration. To come up with something that is so intense takes a vision and an artistic stance that is very rarely seen in popular music. And it is very intense. Swans (at the point in their existence when this live album was recorded) were renowned for playing so loud that audience would spontaneously vomit. They also used ensure that the air conditioning was turned off wherever they played so that the audience would find it as uncomfortable as possible and if anyone had the temerity to either headbang or God forbid, place their hands on the edge of the stage then the front man and founder of Swans, Michael Gira, would stomp on their fingers.

This record should be played as loud as possible but I’ve never had the chance to whack the volume to the maximum as I’m sure the neighbours would complain. Even at a low-ish volume it sounds loud. The nearest thing to describe it as is the sound of a massive oil tanker running aground, very slowly and painfully loud, but slowed down and repeated over and over again.

Two other things:

It’s so grim and dark that it’s actually very funny. But I’m sure that’s not what Swans intended.

It is quite good when it stops.       

5. Camille-Le Fil

An album that made me realise finally that a) not everything needs to be sung in English for it to be enjoyable 

and b) because of this, maybe the exact words don’t really matter at all. I have no idea about what Camille is singing about on this record (it’s in French). She could be running through her shopping list or giving us an especially complicated recipe; it could be a run through the telephone directory of a small town or maybe something really trite and soppy. It doesn’t matter one bit because her voice is so spectacular and soaring. Because she puts so much passion into it I do have a sense that what she is singing is important and meaningful. Maybe it’s all to do with the language after all. Maybe it’s my perceptions of French; it wouldn’t sound the same if she was from say, Wigan or Preston (although that would be an interesting option; maybe that’ll be the next thing-albums remixed with Northern accents).

What is remarkable to me and seems to run throughout most (but not all) of these albums that I’ve picked is that they were unexpected. Unexpected in the sense that I’d never heard of some of these artist until I’d heard the albums; or if I had, then only in passing or that they’d not made much of an impression upon me. With this album by Camille (as well as my next choice and the YMGs’ above) what is inspiring is that these records come out of seemingly nowhere and although, by and large, they’ve been made by people in their very early twenties, they are works that have stood the test of time. This is art that belies the relative immaturity of the artists; what’s truly staggering is that someone so young can have the vision to produce something so original and intense.

It is impossible just to pick one track off this record; you’d have to listen to the whole thing. (And that’s part of it; literally part of it. Although there are distinct songs and different tracks it’s all strung together by a low hum that’s playing in the background from the beginning the end of the album. This is the thread referred to in the album title but as I don’t speak French I’m not sure if that’s correct.)

It’s just a beautiful record.        

Next Up -Part Two!!!!