- 22 May 01
Declan Lynch's 1979 The Jam will only be on their fifth pint when Tom Waits starts making eyes at his second bottle of Haig.
Certain aspects, or idiosyncrasies in music, appeal to me more than others. I am much more impressed by Joy division producing a well realised artefact in the space of four days on an independent label in Manchester, than Chic achieving such quality with the aid of the corporate clout at their disposal. At least in terms of priority.
Ry Cooder is steeped in established traditions, and as such ‘Bop Til You Drop’ is the unlikeliest of bedfellows for Pere Ubu’s ‘New Picnic Time’, However, Cooder’s small time straightforward charm and simplicity is indicative of respect for both his music and audience; not to mention ‘the human race’.
Elvis Costello may write and play like a champion, but he’ll always be vindictive when the time for forgiveness has long gone. That’s why Graham Parker gets priority. He also has better glasses.
The Fall has brave, independent, fierce. The Gang of Four are inconsistent tryers who are aware of their dilemma, and that it is one of their own making. Their boggie is anything but mindless.
The Jam will only be on their fifth pint when Tom Waits starts making eyes at his second bottle of Haig. Robert Fripp on the other hand, is quaffing Perrier water in Bloom’s and reaping the benefits of a wholefood diet. You haven’t heard the half of ‘Intensified’ without the contents of a bottle of Woodpecker cider lapping somewhere inside you. (But Dec, you only drink Cidona – Ed).
Yes the criteria are endless. At times of indecision, such as this, I normally reach for Dusty Springfield’s Greatest Hits. You don’t have to say you approve.