Showing posts with label Spiritualised. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Spiritualised. Show all posts

Friday, August 23, 2019

SLIDE: THE SLIDE SONG/SPIRITUALISED


The first, I think, post to fully reference this longstanding UK band. Always classified under 'space-rock', a confusing terminology that can embrace everything from Telstar to Pink Floyd, they have been in orbit for nigh on 30 years, arising out of the remnants of Spacemen 3. Jason Pierce, aka J. Spaceman, one of the 2 frontmen of the earlier group, left, taking most of the band with him, together with their signature sound, a heady mix of prolonged and treated chordal notes and drones, allied with a near gospel sensibility in the vocal timbres. Space-rock is also often a lazy shorthand for drug enhanced higher states, and there was always little doubt of this, evidenced freely within the bands output, certainly to begin with.


 1992 saw their first album, 'Lazer Guided Melodies', which, although more overtly 'rock' in it's approach, the only true 'band' album, with solid driving 'motorik' drums, already the seeds of the more majestic and symphonic sound were being sown, with strings and brass augmenting the band. It was 2nd album, 'Pure Phase', that gave greater structure, albeit with also a greater amorphous dreamscape stateliness, to what was becoming indelibly Pierce's trademark. Indeed, the concept of Spiritualised as a band was already beginning to wilt, fast becoming a studio vehicle for Pierce to utilise whomsoever to project his ideas. The Balanescu Quartet, classical mavericks, were drawn in for this record, much as he dismissed his earlier colleagues. I remember buying this at the time, quite struck by the difference from anything else going on. (Confession: I bought it on the strength of the artwork, it just looked enticing, a trick Pierce has always employed.) For the swiftly following 'Ladies and Gentlemen, We Are Floating in Space', this went a step further, with, as well as the Balanescu Quartet, in came the London Gospel Choir, suddenly an obvious step in this otherwise emphatically non-sectarian music. And Dr John, the  voodoo night-tripper himself. (All of these and pedal steel maestro, B.J. Cole, plus a cast of dozens, appear in the track below this paragraph.) This proved to be the breakthrough earlier threatened, being named 1997 album of the year by the influential New Musical Express (NME). The US was also listening, acclaim coming from Rolling Stone and Village Voice. If there any few lingering uncertainties as to the source of Pierce's inspiration, the special editions of this came in a box designed to appear as the packaging of a box of pills, with dosage advice and a foil-sealed lining over the disc itself. Latterly Pierce has tried to deflect the obvious, citing the message to be of music being his drug. OK, right.


A long gap followed before any further work, the intervening time period fraught with internal difficulties with whatsoever members of the rapidly changing band were still involved. Indeed, mirroring the initial formation of the band out of Spaceman 3, most of the band left en masse, forming another band, Lupine Howl, not without some initial acclaim. The 2 Spiritualised albums of the first half of the 90s took further the gospel sound and influence ahead of yet another hiatus. Perhaps bringing home all the rumours to roost, in 2005 Pierce collapsed, nearly dying on at least one occasion and spending much of the time in hospital, the experience perhaps the stimulus to another game changer, 2008's 'Songs in A/E', A/E (accident and emergency) being the UK parlance for E.R. Even if much of the material was written earlier, within the recording come distinct echoes of the morgue and, as a result the gospel (and blues) hues have a more positive and even a truly spiritual basis. Go figure the song below, old bluesman in space being the vibe offered to me. With space being perhaps that corridor between this world and the next.


Still far from well, with tales of experimental chemotherapy for a never quite specified liver disease, subsequent output has been slow and scant. 'Sweet Heart Sweet Light' in 2012 was deigned to show a poppier side, ahead of last years 'And Nothing Hurt', very much a return and reprise of earlier motifs, massed choirs and string quartets, very much a companion piece to 'Ladies and Gentlemen, We Are Floating in Space'. This is the lead track:



'The Slide Song', which references this piece, comes from 'Pure Phases'. I think it encapsulates the whole Spiritualised sound and ethos. If you don't like it, well, you won't like much else. So what does it all mean? And why Slide? The lyric seems to suggest a regret, an inability to change or make amends. A slide into where he was going, perhaps, but when all is said and done, does it really matter? I just slide into the music.

Slide in, yourself?

Tuesday, October 16, 2018

HOMECOMING: TAKE ME BACK HOME/SOULSAVERS


OK, so it was only when the facebook link to my last post alerted me that I realised Homecoming to be peculiarly and specifically an american concept, relating to (high) schools inviting back past alumni, for a dance to celebrate the existence of the institution in question. And football?! Who knew? Certainly not me, although I suddenly get a whole lot of references from "Romy and Micheles High School Reunion" to the Monkees. Anyway, this piece too, like those of my colleagues, is nothing at all to do with that. (Except, arguably, on a metaphysical level.........)

Soulsavers are a remarkable concept, the idea of Rich Machin and Ian Glover, two british producers who somehow have conjured a knack of getting some of the most distinctive vocalists around to sing on their electronica take on what I would broadly categorise as gospel music, possibly not (but probably) including in any religious sense. Perhaps if a little veiled as to any particular divinity. Sorry, sprawling intro, but it is tricky for modern musicians to overtly ally themselves to any accepted spirituality beyond the vague. Or maybe difficult for me and my generation, avowedly secular, to accept such. I can find little back story as to how these two honed their craft. 2003 saw their first record, 'Tough Guys Don't Dance', the template immediately set out with sombre and dark sounds, sombre and dark imagery and sombre, dark, often lugubrious vocals. Here's 'Love' from that record, a style remaining and in no need of change. The singer is Josh Haden, son of Charlie, and erstwhile lead singer of the short lived 'Spain', well worthy of recommendation in their own right.

Second album, 'It's Not How You Fall, It's How You Land', saw them bring in Mark Lanegan, whose gothic tones have increasingly added a little black, or is it white, magic to any number of artists, as well as building up quite a catalogue of his own. With his back story of gaol and addiction, who better to sing of a curiously old testament redemption and revival?

Third album, 'Broken', again included Lanegan, amongst others including Jason Pierce, whose 'Spiritualised' had been mining, and still do, a similar vein. This took deeper still the atmospheric, exemplified by this version of this Will Oldham (Bonnie Prince Billy) track, he also appearing on this and the last record. (And here's Billy's version.)


The song featured in this article comes from number 4, 'The Light the Dead See', which, on the back of the critical breakthrough achieved by 'Broken', had the genius of recruiting Dave Gahan in the Lanegan role. Perhaps as famous for his overdosing near-death experiences as for his fronting of electro-band Depeche Mode, interviews had already revealed his deep melancholic beliefs. When Soulsavers were chosen to support Depeche Mode on a 2012 tour, it was perhaps inevitable he would end up writing and singing with/for them. Not for nothing was the title of his main bands 1993 album 'Songs of Love and Devotion'.

'Take Me Back Home' is one of many highlights from this remarkable album, the references aplenty as to where that home may be. It can move me to impossible places, to states akin to a mystical reverie, almost damascene in intensity. It is only my hard fought for cynicism that enables me to pretend I hear not the beseechments to (a) god. Or to God? As intensity goes it can go little further. And it can't get more overt than the song below.


Gahan has stayed on board a while longer, to the extent of the next release coming under the Dave Gahan & Soulsavers soubriquet, a step backwards for me, experientially, even if the songs, on 'Angels & Ghosts', were nearly as powerful. Strangely, the giving of a name extruded a taste of Mammon. Some of the magic was gone. Perhaps indicatively, the next release was back to the core duo, and instrumental, a film soundtrack, 'Kubrick', no clues in the lyrics, and fewer from the subject matter of the film. But no mistaking the music.

I remain an atheist. I think.

I could just point you toward the named track. Hell, or is that heck, hit the main page.