To round off my series of articles about the post-punk era I thought I’d offer a list of my favourite post-punk and ‘new pop’ records. This is in no way an attempt at a ‘best of’ or definitive list of the period, but rather a personal reflection on the albums that made an impact on me at the time.

I’ve used Simon Reynolds’ book, Rip It Up And Start Again as a general guide in defining the post-punk/new pop period as 1978-1984, but (like Reynolds) I’ve strayed into 1985 so that I can include Scritti Politti’s second lp.

The B52s – The B52s

The first B52s album made its appearance in late 1979 when there was still a section in the local record store called ‘new wave’. The bright yellow cover still stood out among all the other retro, day-glo colours adorning the sleeves of the time. Attracted by the silliness of titles such as Planet Claire and Rock Lobster my best friend and I stood in the store and giggled over the lyric sheet.

Inspired verse: ‘Why won’t you dance with me, I ain’t no limburger?’
Recommended listening: 52 Girls

The Cure – Seventeen Seconds

This reminds me of the winter in 1980, my last year of high school. Walking the cold, wet streets at night when I should have been at home studying. I loved the watery guitar and the blurred, wintry cover. I liked the record so much that I designed a special Seventeen Seconds record label (cringe) and stuck it over the horrible Stunn Records logo.

Inspired verse: ‘I’m running towards nothing, again and again and again.’
Recommended listening: Play For Today

Joy Division – Closer

The Joy Division albums weren’t released locally until 1981, but we’d seen them in the city’s import record stores and fondled the beautiful covers lovingly. When I finally got to hear Closer I didn’t know what to make of it. The sounds were strange and unearthly, not like pop music at all.

Inspired verse: ‘Here are the young men, the weight on their shoulders.’
Recommended listening: Twenty Four Hours

Talking Heads – Remain In Light

My friends and I were fans of the minimalist Talking Heads guitar pop, and reacted with horror at the news the band had expanded to include additional musicians, and was playing disco music. I remember the mix of dread and excitement when I put Remain in Light for the first time. I rang my friend in a state of confusion ‘all I can hear is bass guitars’. Of course, I grew to love the record, even if it isn’t my favourite Heads record.

Inspired verse: ‘And you may say to yourself, MY GOD! WHAT HAVE I DONE?’
Recommended listening: Crosseyed And Painless

Echo & The Bunnymen – Heaven Up Here

We were a little behind the times here in Australia and missed a lot of stuff the first time around. I bought Wilder before Kilimanjaro, October before Boy, and Heaven Up Here before Crocodiles. Again, I’m sure the cover had something to do with me buying this album – a deep blue panorama of sea and sky. Luckily, the music was just as good. Like the cover, it was dark and moody, yet there was also a subtle optimism.

Inspired verse: ‘Set sail in those turquoise days.’
Recommended listening: Show Of Strength

The Birthday Party – Prayers On Fire

I was attracted by the band’s dark sense of humour and the chaotic music, which always sounded on the verge of collapse. Songs like Zoo Music Girl and Nick The Stripper were also great for scaring the neighbours. But I was far too cowardly to go and see The Birthday Party play live. I imagined Nick Cave leaping off the stage and kicking me in the head.

Inspired verse: ‘My heart is a fish toasted by flames.’
Recommended listening: King Ink

ABC – The Lexicon Of Love

My friends and I were still listening to dark guitar bands (Public Image, Comsat Angels, Psychedelic Furs, the Bunnymen, Siouxsie) when ‘new pop’ first appeared, so listening to the Human League, Depeche Mode and ABC was something of a ‘guilty pleasure’. Dare was great, but Lexicon was even better, with its inspired meld of Roxy Music and Chic. At heart we were all ‘pop kids’.

Inspired verse: ‘What I thought was fire was only the spark.’
Recommended listening: Tears Are Not Enough

Associates – Sulk

I’d liked The Affectionate Punch and, in particular Fourth Drawer Down, but Sulk was a revelation. The shimmering pop of Side Two (Party Fears Two, Club Country) was wonderful, but it was the more ‘difficult’ Side One I really loved. Songs like Bap De La Bap and Nude Spoons sounded like they came from another planet, or some strange sub-aquatic wonderland.

Inspired verse: ‘The alcohol loves you while turning you blue.’
Recommended listening: No

Simple Minds – New Gold Dream

When Simple Minds toured in 1981 they attracted interest but not crowds. When they visited a year later, after the success of Promised You A Miracle and Glittering Prize, they played to a packed house. Filled with images of summer, gold and glitter, the album seemed to radiate warmth and wonderment.

Inspired verse: ‘Everything is possible.’
Recommended listening: Hunter And The Hunted

The Smiths – The Smiths

The Smiths’ second single, This Charming Man, made an immediate impression on me. The music itself was pleasant enough, a sort of jangly rockabilly, but it was the voice that grabbed my attention. And what were words like ‘handsome’, ‘charming’ and ‘miserable’ doing in a pop song? My mother was in the UK at the time, so I got her to bring back a copy of the new Smiths album, to the amusement of my relatives (‘He’s the one with the flowers!’)

Inspired verse: ‘Oh Manchester, so much to answer for.’
Recommended listening: I Don’t Owe You Anything

Scritti Politti – Cupid And Psyche 85

By 1985, my friends and I were making our own music using synthesizers and drum machines. Cupid And Psyche was the ultimate electronic pop album, filled with bubbling sequenced keyboards and imaginative rhythm tracks. We must have played it continuously for months.

Inspired verse: ‘Each time I go to bed I pray like Aretha Franklin.’
Recommended listening: Perfect Way

In some ways, Green Gartside, the man behind Scritti Politti, has come full circle. The original Scritti formed in the aftermath of punk, and inspired by the DIY ethos of the time, produced and released their earliest recordings, eventually seeking distribution through the Rough Trade label. Nearly thirty years later, and Scritti is back at Rough Trade, with this latest album, recorded and produced at Gartside’s home in East London. The music, however, is as far from those difficult post-punk meanderings as could be imagined.

‘White Bread Black Beer’ is Scritti’s most diverse album yet, a rich smorgasbord of sounds, from squelchy dub reggae to Beatlesque electro-folk. Opening track, and first single, ‘The Boom Boom Bap’, is Green’s ode to hip hop. It begins with his unmistakable falsetto whispered sweetly over tinkling keyboards. The music builds over a series of verses, before finishing as it began, with a whisper – ‘I love you still… I always will.’

‘Snow in Sun’ features rhythm guitar and toy-like chime sounds. It’s almost reminiscent of Andy Partridge’s songwriting in mood and sentiment.

…And you will never be without me
You will never need to doubt me
There’ll be something good about me soon
Like sun in the city snow
Like snow in the city sun.

But, like most of the songs on the album, ‘Snow in Sun’ doesn’t conform to the usual verse-chorus-verse structure. After a reprise of the opening vocal section, the song segues into an electro-funk fadeout.

Album centrepiece ‘Dr Abernathy’ (a descendent of the Beatles’ ‘Dr Robert’) is another example of Green’s playful approach to song structure on ‘White Bread’. It begins and ends with gently strummed guitar and sweet harmonies, but in between is a stomping rock song, complete with crunching riffs (and whistling!).

‘Mrs. Hughes’ opens with Beach Boys-like vocal harmonies, proceeds with some melancholy guitar and McCartney-esque moments, before concluding with a funky coda, over which Green confesses – ‘I’ve been a bad bad man, done some very wicked thing, oh baby, been a bad bad man.’

‘Throw’ and ‘E Eleventh Nuts’ are reggae-tinged pop tunes, while ‘Locked’ (apparently written for Kylie Minogue) is a shimmering love ballad.

Darling I will keep you with me
In ribbons and in bows
In ways you’ll never show…
…a game that only you and I can know,
I’ll turn and lock the door – and you’ll be there…

One of the highlights is closing track ‘Robin Hood’. If it wasn’t for the squelchy electronic rhythms you’d swear it was an summer hit from the early 70s, complete with ‘ba-ba-ba’s and ‘woo-hoo’s.

I been longing too long a time
I dream of ending these dreams
Of mine, of hope, for love for evermore
Just to, adore and be adored, the need for someone new

‘White Bread Black Beer’ is probably Scritti’s most intimate and straightforward album. There are no references to Derrida or Marxism, no guest rappers or trumpet players. It’s just Gartside and his songs. After three decades in the music business – from post-punk to new pop to hip hop – Green Gartside seems relaxed and comfortable and quite happy doing whatever comes to him.

It sounds like a pretty good place to be.

On Sunday night I joined the crush of music fans assembled to see New York art-punk trio the Yeah Yeah Yeahs at the Governer Hindmarsh hotel. I arrived late, but still managed to see most of the support band’s long set. Sydney’s Van She (what a horrible name!) are an Interpol/Bravery/Cut Copy hybrid playing radio-friendly rock songs. Unfortunately, the songs themselves were pretty dull, although it was refreshing to see a live band featuring a synthesizer so prominently in the mix.

Somehow, during the break, I found myself surrounded by some of the tallest people in Adelaide. I’d had a good view of Van She, but suddenly couldn’t see the stage at all. It was too late (and far too crowded) to move, so I had to make the best of things. By tilting my head to the side and leaning back slightly, I could just see the front of the stage as Karen O and the guys bounced into view. Karen was wearing a multi-coloured leotard and scarves of tinsel, and her face was decorated with ‘warpaint’. She gave a throat-shredding yowl and they were off…

The band was loud and fast and tight, ripping through razor-sharp versions of ‘Y Control’, ‘Black Tongue’ and ‘Man’. There were plenty of songs from ‘Show Your Bones’ too, although these tended to vary in quality. Some of the heavier tunes like ‘Phenomena’ and ‘Honeybear’ suited an abrasive live approach. But the band struggled when a lighter touch was required. ‘Gold Lion’ started tentatively, while ‘Turn Into’ was a bit of a mess. Even Karen O seemed to struggle when required to sing rather than scream.

It was a very physical performance – Karen O skipped and bounded across the stage like a crazed marionette, a mad grin on her paint-smeared face. Nick writhed and shuddered like a guitarist possessed, while Brian attacked the drums with an effortless precision. For some of the set a fourth musician joined them, lending additional guitar and keyboards to the newer songs.

The show was over too soon – only a dozen or so songs – and we were ejected, blinking and sweaty, out into the drizzling rain. My ears were still ringing with the Yeah Yeah Yeahs when I got home.

I went back to the Gov to see Death Cab For Cutie on Monday night. Surprisingly, it was even more crowded than the previous night. Unlike the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, which seemed to attract a lot of young females, the audience for Death Cab was dominated by serious-looking twenty-something-year-old boys. I found myself in the midst of a group of boys who looked so similar they might have been members of a club. (Maybe they were!) All of them wore the same disheveled coconut hairstyle and brown vinyl jackets. They were also all very tall and positioned themselves in front of me like a wall. Once again, I was left to view the band by looking over shoulders, under arms, around big shaggy heads.

Death Cab opened with ‘Different Names For The Same Thing’, which started quietly with just Ben on keyboards and Chris adding guitar effects. Then, as the song progressed, drummer, Jason, and bass player, Nicholas, joined them. The band then moved swiftly through a polished set of songs, which featured generous slabs of their last two albums. Highlights included a moving rendition of ‘I Will Follow You Into The Dark’, which got most of the crowd singing along, and an extended, extra percussive version of ‘We Looked Like Giants’.

Hardcore fans expecting a lot of older material would have been disappointed, as these were few and far between (only two or three songs at most). But given the cheers greeting songs like ‘The New Year’ and ‘Marching Bands Of Manhattan’, I can only assume that few would have been unhappy. Otherwise, there was little to complain about. The sound was pretty good, the performances energetic and the atmosphere warm (actually too warm) and welcoming.

So how did I feel after two nights of rock ‘n’ roll at the Gov? Exhausted? Bored? Apart from the fact that couldn’t see anything for most of the time (I need to grow a few inches or wear platforms) I had a good time. Although it was a relief to get out into the fresh, clean, unsweaty air, and to walk on a surface to which my shoes did not stick.

When bands like the Sex Pistols and the Clash toured during the zenith of the punk phenomenon in the mid 70s they left a trail of inspired youth in their wake. The Sex Pistols effect on the music scene of Manchester has been well documented, most recently in Michael Winterbottom’s ’24 Hour Party People’. It is said that two concerts by the band in mid 1976 effectively gave birth to the Manchester post punk scene that would eventually include The Fall, Magazine, Joy Division, The Smiths and others.

In nearby Liverpool, a concert by The Clash brought about a similar reaction, inspiring people like Ian Broudie, Bill Drummond, Julian Cope, Pete Wylie and Ian McCulloch to start their own punk bands. More colorful and flamboyant than the dour Manchester scene, the Liverpool bands included Echo And The Bunnymen, The Teardrop Explodes, Big In Japan, Orchestral Manouvres In The Dark, Frankie Goes To Hollywood and others.

A new collection compiled (appropriately) by former NME journalist, Paul Morley, celebrates these two centres of post punk activity. Spread over three cds, the collection, entitled ‘North By North West’, devotes one disc each to Manchester and Liverpool, while the ‘limited edition’ third disc contains a selection of tracks from both cities.

For those already familiar with the era, the Manchester disc might not hold too many surprises, with tracks like Joy Division’s ‘Transmission’, New Order’s ‘Ceremony’ and The Smiths’ ‘How Soon Is Now’ having already been regularly anthologised. For me, the treats on this disc are ‘My Cherry Is In Sherry’ by Ludus and ‘Work’ by The Blue Orchids. Also of interest is the grim synth-laden ‘Fear’ by The Passage.

The Liverpool disc includes two Bunnymen tracks, The Teardrop Explodes, OMD and Frankie, but also lesser-known acts like The Pale Fountains (fronted by Shack’s Michael Head), Lori And The Chameleons and electro outfit Dalek I Love You, as well as a fabulous tune by Care, the ‘band’ formed by Ian Broudie and Paul Simpson (Wild Swans, Teardrop Explodes).

The third disc (‘Liverchest’) contains an assortment of curios and treasures – Section 25, Swamp Children, Pink Industry, Stockholm Monsters, China Crisis, along with Big In Japan’s signature tune, and a very early track by Manchester pop band, James. This disc probably contains the least essential music of the three, although in some ways, it’s also the most interesting. After all, it’s not often you get to hear Those Naughty Lumps (Cope, Drummond and co) sing something called ‘Iggy Pop’s Jacket’

The accompanying booklet is filled with Morley’s idiosyncratic (some would say annoyingly pretentious) ramblings, although among the nonsense is plenty of interesting anecdote and detail. This snippet about Zoo Records guru Bill Drummond is one of my favourites:

Drummond, who was like Tony Wilson, Rob Gretton and Martin Hannett in one, would tell Julian Cope that a good way to increase record sales was to kill himself. When he was questioned about the point of a Bunnymen tour of bizarre and apparently random sites, Drummond’s response was, ‘It’s not random, if you look at a map of the world, the whole tour’s in the shape of a rabbit’s ears.”

All in all, it’s a nicely compiled and well-presented package, celebrating a particularly fertile region of post punk UK. It’s also essential listening for anyone with an interest in the music of the era.