Colin Newman “Commercial Suicide”
It’s true. I couldn’t resist adding another column in hopes of turning you cats and kittens on to more music. This is going to focus on discs primarily from the 80s (and early 90s) that have long been hard to find or sort of fell through the cracks of the collective consciousness. They will also be true records in that you should own the whole thing and not download just a few songs. To make life easy, I will focus on spending some of your eMusic credits. The service is still spotty with new releases but an amazing array of back catalogues have come on-line and digging through ebay or gemm has now been simplified to single clicks at a fraction of the cost. Sit back and enjoy!
As a member of Wire (in all incarnations of their stop start career) and as a solo artist and member of Githead, Colin Newman has made some of my favorite music of the past 30 years. Everything he touches is insanely interesting at a minimum and sublimely wonderful more often than not. It’s a streak few could even dream of matching. Recommending any of his work truly brings with it a splendor of spoils. His work can only be judged against his other efforts as he stands out as a unique talent in any of his recordings.
You should certainly own the first set of Wire albums for reasons that would take days to convey but they are considered classics for a reason. Newman’s solo work that followed after the first Wire hiatus played much like a continuation of the path they had taken. “A-Z” is particularly rewarding and features “& Jury” which stands as one of his finest songs. The work in this period continued in the challenging vein until Wire reconvened (for the first of what would become a delightful habit) with an all-new modern sound, once again a step ahead of the rest of the world. As fans old and new quickly took to the band’s reinvigorated output, Newman quietly continued on with his solo work. The fall of their record label (Enigma) and the simple fact that Wire have kept you firmly engrossed with the “now” version of the group, conspired to make this the hidden gem in his massive catalogue.
“Commercial Suicide” features a number of players close to Newman in helping him see through his vision. Minimal Compact players, including wife Malka Spigel most importantly, along with others would add orchestral backing. The record would not see Newman relying on his guitar (despite being a natural, jitter genius on the instrument) but rather show that his instincts in rhythm and melody were applicable to any carrier. More than anything, the album serves to showcase his use of repetition in rhythm and melody as well as his undeniable pop smarts that Newman can never hide.
Adorned by photos of the players wearing formal clothing backwards and a sleek black wrap, the proceedings begin with the slowly shifting bursts of strings and upfront chimes of “Their Terrain,” as Newman establishes the vocal melody and then slowly twists it as well. “2-sixes” quickly sets electronics against a cello jab back and forth (sounding almost like Newman’s treated guitar work in Wire) and Spigel’s opposing vocal. It’s sophisticated and challenging yet terribly accessible. The closest description I can think of is if New Order were to try to cover later era Talk Talk. How wonderful does that sound? You only need to plunge in to find out.
“Metarkest” is darker and has an ominous vocal roaming above ghostly backing noises and a steady low pulse. “But I” is gorgeous in the string section sawing away with synth swells and an amazing melody that Newman manages to turn into four melodies intertwined. Most would be happy to have just one of these beauties. Singers take note on how it is really done. “Commercial Suicide” is all lush swells and piano rolls until it too breaks out in a catchy simple burst of vocals. “I’m Still Here” continues the streak with bassy undercurrents and both sawing and plinking strings and turns a conversational vocal into a subtle plead. “Feigned Hearing” has an electronic bed with a twisting key and a pure pop chorus that shows Newman making it seem ridiculously easy to keep coming up with these time after time. “Can I Explain The Delay” is almost in the vein of a Berlin soundtrack weeper but Newman keeps things just strange enough. “I Can Hear Your” is the closest thing to “Ideal Copy” era Wire – mostly due to the buzzing strings catching their guitar sound.
This completes the album but eMusic adds in an interview as well as an interview “remix” which might be worthwhile on their own but for listening purposes I would stick to the joys in the nine tracks before it.
RIYL: 80’s Wire, The The’s “Soulmining”, The Notwist
Current Newman images swiped from Colin’s flickr - sorry Colin!
Wire will only play the new stuff when they arrive at the 930 on the 11th but if you make it over here your odds will certainly improve for the classics.
