Love and Rockets - Love and Rockets/Swing
(Beggars Banquet)
1989 and things seemed to be exploding. Two years before Nirvana became alternative became pop became a new decade's lingering influence, alternative in the classic college radio sense went overground in its own way. Maybe not as explosively as "Smells Like Teen Spirit," say, but after first U2 and then REM hit the arenas, with Depeche Mode not far behind, then the deluge. And like Depeche, it seemed like a lot of it had to do with veterans of postpunk years suddenly finding their music the in thing, more than ever before, especially in America. The Cure released its dramatic Disintegration and joined the arena-bound crew, New Order's fantastic Technique blended its own sound with acid house influences in a striking, thrilling fashion, even the old warhorse John Lydon had his latest PIL incarnation hit MTV with "Disappointed" (and ended up opening for New Order for his pains).
Meanwhile, three-quarters of Bauhaus—then only known by most people as a name on a T-shirt worn by a New Kids on the Block member in a video—found themselves with a fluke top ten hit that was the most T. Rex-like song to rise so high on the charts since the original band itself. And its creators in Love and Rockets reacted in their own way—after a couple of tours to increasingly huge audiences, they went their separate ways for years and never recaptured that one particular moment they had. But from what the band said much later, that was exactly what they needed, and who's to disagree?
After first reuniting Love and Rockets and then putting Bauhaus together again for a sequence of reunion tours, David J, Daniel Ash and Kevin Haskins are now firmly (if not necessarily finally) doing their own things, three music-obsessed kids from Northampton turned into middle-aged rock demi-legends in LA and content with it. Haskins plays around with electronics, Djing and more besides, David J explores his own low-key furrow of wry and witty songwriting in the vein of his fine previous albums, Ash still chases the rock dream on his own terms and, if the results of the fantastic and varied solo tour are any indication, clearly still has whatever it takes. But for a lot of people in the eighties, they were the band that introduced not only a lingering goth element from the UK more firmly to the US along with their various peers, but in their explorations in noisy as hell psychedelia, often crossed with weirdly fragile beauty, served as a little appreciated link between the original scene of the sixties to a more modern sound—all while blending more up to date extrapolations as well. The Black Rebel Motorcycle Club may love the Jesus and Mary Chain to the extreme, but Love and Rockets are right in their record collections, while any number of groups from the Brian Jonestown Massacre to Windy and Carl owe more than a little debt to the trio.
And so a reissue of their fourth album, the one with the big hit "So Alive," the one that actually showed the group at its most varied if not fragmented. Beggars Banquet already did the honors with the first three (finally creating definitive version of Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven and Express while at it), so the appearance of this one is a bit of a surprise, but a welcome one. The main album itself is just as good as ever, trying out everything from David J's obsession with old country and blues standards (both "**** (Jungle Law)" and "Bound for Hell" rewrite old-as-the-hills lyrics and melodies into a clattering, crashing modern day) to weird as hell ambient reworkings of older songs ("The Purest Blue" demolishes then barely rebuilds Earth*Sun*Moon's "Waiting for the Flood") and back again. There's Ash's own Jesus and Mary Chain worship (not to mention more than a little Cramps) coming to the fore with the sassy blast of "No Big Deal" and the careening motorbike, both of which readily explain Bauhaus singer Peter Murphy's comment that Ash can take three notes and make it sound like the loudest thing in the universe. But there's calm as well—David J's "Rock and Roll Babylon" is a bittersweet look at the music dream with both emotion and wit, while Ash's "I Feel Speed" presents a 180 degree counterpart to "Motorcycle," feeling like what happened after said cycle broke the laws of gravity and spiraled off into space. There's no set tone anywhere throughout beyond everyone's individual pleasure, but on that level it works—and if it was Ash's thought that a slinky Marc Bolan homage like "So Alive" would work too, he was on the money.
The bonus tracks on the first disc are a nicely mixed bunch, if anything paralleling the schizophrenia of the album itself. "Bike" is a semi-sixties-spy theme gone partially industrial—Ash's sax playing sets the right amount of sleaze—while "Bikedance" is a further devolved mix of same. Both sound first and foremost like Haskins going happily nuts with the techno and beatbox influences that would rapidly define his music in and outside of the band, and while it's a reach to call the results the blueprint for Hot Trip to Heaven five years later, it's still enjoyable enough. The remix of "No Big Deal"—the attempted followup single to "So Alive"—plays around with and fully extends the ending in a pleasant if not dramatic change, while "Dreamtime" consists of a gentle Ash a capella vocal eventually leading into a spare musical texture that suddenly shifts to a moody David J vocal/acoustic guitar blend, swirling chopped vocals and all. It's one of the most unusual though still compelling songs the group did, and well deserved a rescuing from B-side obscurity.
It's the second disc that's the real winner, though, because it's the long overdue emergence of the missing piece of Love and Rockets' history—the Swing EP. During the sudden flush of publicity that "So Alive" afforded the group, its members made mention of a series of apparently quirky garage/psych numbers in the can with a hoped for release in the near future. That never panned out, leaving fans new and old plenty frustrated. As with anything of that sort, the reputation of the tracks may have been inflated a bit with time and its lack of availability, but they're all still great fun, perhaps not a million miles away in spirit from the band's goofy Bubblemen alter ego if not as relentlessly quirky. Still, a song like "Wake Up," with its jaunty r'n'b feel meets semi-Andrews Sisters harmonies (sort of) is definitely kick up your heels stuff, setting the tone for the remaining tracks like the low-key rockabilly revival "1000 Watts of Your Love" and the equally merry "The Early Worm." The old traditional, "Bad Monkey," that formed the lyrical basis of "**** (Jungle Law)" finishes the set, and if David J's distorted vocals are pretty harsh, the music keeps up the easygoing pace. All sorts of odd and, for the band, unexpected instruments show up—Haskins plays marimba, David J tuba and 'toys'—and the whole air of the piece is at complete odds with the drama and slink of the main album, and beautifully so. The only contemporary peek at Swing is included as a bonus, a 1989 LA radio session featuring a take of "1000 Watts of Your Love" as well as the main album's "No Words No More," plus a lengthy and sometimes surreal interview (revealing that Kevin Haskins was an early fan of Jesus Jones and featuring a wonderfully bizarre, mostly vocals-only rendition of Lee Marvin's fluke hit "Wanderin' Star"). Haskins plays piano instead of drums, and the feel of both songs is one of a smoky late-night bar, not a bad place to be. The interview also reveals the exact identity of who plays on the ultimate Bauhaus-related obscurity, the Sinister Ducks single—one mystery less in the world.
As a friend told me, an expanded Hot Trip to Heaven reissue would be a great thing indeed, and I'd have to agree—but in the meantime there's this, and one of my best memories from college years got a little sharper.
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