Brightest Young Things

The Wolfgang Press "Birdwoodcage"

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!

Reviewing the new TV on the Radio last week made me pull out a few post punk favorites that I hadn’t dusted off in quite a while. On the top of that list was this shadowy, leering collection of reformed noisemongers that brought a sinister sexualization to the ethereal 4AD roster as The Wolfgang Press. My love for the new TVOTR is well-documented at this point and I grant them a fresh take on this direction but I would be remiss in not pointing you in the direction of others who have tread similar ground long before them.  Baritone and debonair, Michael Allen had come together with Mark Cox in the bleak Rema Rema and then Mass. Once on their own, they brought aboard the creative string bending of Andrew Gray to form TWP. Early records incorporated pieces of various genres but they all seemed to be enveloped by the overhanging clouds that dominated their sound. Gradually a shift into dance and r+b influences, (tipped by an early cover of Aretha’s iconic “Respect”) took hold (and an alleged desire to match wits with De La Soul a la The Beatles and Beach Boys) and the group even had a college radio hit with the wonderful “A Girl Like You.”

This brought TWP to the 2^nd HFStival and plopped them out in front of tens of thousands of sunburnt wastoids fending off 100 degrees at Lake Fairfax. Painfully pale and decked out in designer dinner jackets, I couldn’t help noting that the band might have been the most out of place act I have ever seen this side of Nine Inch Nails on the initial Lollapalooza (at the same location naturally.) They managed to see through their dance flirtation with one more album, but never quite caught fire as hoped. In all honesty – they were always too cool to fully appeal in that way. And then, they were gone.

Choosing a record to highlight from their discography is far from easy. They all have their dark charms. In the end, I went with the record that best bridged their early goth-like releases with the poppier side that they would finish with. For that – there is only one album: the antique toilet adorned “Birdwoodcage.”

When talking about records, I always harken back to the days when it was crucial to start each side with a strong track (singles were often the first song in the second side of a record or cassette.) That has always dismayed me with the lead-off “King of Soul” which was pushed as the single. It has a clanging percussive backing track and eventually morphs into the twisted jazzy vamp it intends to be but it also drapes in soul sister backing that is more Sisters of Mercy than “sisters.” A detour into dub synths doesn’t help either but soon Allen’s smoky and sinister voice pushes things through. What it does do is make the funky bursts of “Raintime” and it’s horn belches and slinking bass a welcome sight. Here, Allen pulls back to the near whisper that claws back the menace in his voice and ups the sexy factor greatly. “Bottom Drawer” is a minimal pulsing throb with occasional lashes of percussion.

“Kansas” greets us with its wah wah guitar and then builds a chanted chorus using guitars in the areas that industrial percussion would normally roam. It also adds a nice layer of dread to the very name of the state in the heartland with it’s oblique Kennedy assassination commentary. This also showcases Gray’s fretwork more so than the minimal mixes have allowed to this point. “Swing Like A Baby” has spectral sounds in the background while Allen speak/sings and the percussion has a steady clang and synth/guitar gurgles lifted from 80s era Wire. “See My Wife” has nearly poppy synths swallowed whole by Gray’s swirling guitar, as the percussion never quits. “The Holey Man” begins with reverbed vocals alone before the shifting drums come in accented by various sounds deep in the mix as Allen moves the melody to his liking.

“Hang On Me (For Papa)” is a dub workout broken periodically with guitar bursts and is the focal point of the album. The vocals are more sing-songy and meet a wonderful counter in a klezmer inspired horn piece. It slowly builds to doubled vocals with Allen singing against himself as if torn in two while a simple synth melody calls out to him. Then it is the guitar and bass that beckon him before they all vie for your attention like an old-fashioned reckoning might be at hand. “Shut That Door” makes it seem as if the bass has won - as it is front and center with chopping funk guitar slashes of synth noise and Allen doing his best David Byrne funky white man impression. It is infectious and could easily fill a nightmarish dance floor. It’s a big finish and I recommend start with these two tracks and working backwards.

The download also includes “The Big Sex” EP, which was released prior to this record but serves as a great benchmark for how their sound was twisting into shape. “The Wedding”and it’s tribal drumming and occasional noise or sweet horns, “The Great Leveller” built on sliding guitar and bass and big breakouts, “That Heat” is sort of classic brooding TWP and “God’s Number” showcases a lighter funk that make them all worth owning.

Check it.

RIYL: The The’s “Infected”, TV on the Radio, Foetus, 80s Wire, Nick Cave on the dancefloor or fronting Talking Heads.