Number 8 of 2003 — Sleater-Kinney: Dig Me Out

Ah, the early 1990s. Back when I had a well paid job, more hair, and I could drink more without falling over and/or falling asleep. It was also a time when the world’s music press was getting all hot and bothered over riot grrrl. Riot grrrl — as a musical movement rather than an organisation for feminist activism — passed me by. What I heard was sub-1976 punk: disorganised, unlistenable, unpolished and instantly forgettable. But the music was only half the point.

Sleater-Kinney were inspired by the riot grrrl movement – in particular Bikini Kill, and started releasing albums in 1995. This is their third album: the one that brought them critical acclaim, and the one that confirmed them as leaders of “queer punk” (?). I usually reserve my album-of-the-year lists for ones released in the given year but I’m making an exception just this once – I think.

From the very first bars of Dig Me Out, there are two things apparent: there’s an energy and passion about what they do; secondly, they eschew the traditional melodies of rock music for something a little more edgy and different to the ear (q.v. Sonic Youth). Yes, they can play their instruments (but of course you’d expect them to). I’m listening to this album now, and I’ve realised I don’t just like it a lot. I love it.

Turn it On, is based on a monster groove that takes off during the chorus into anthemic proportions. The break towards the end is a spine-tingler. Heart Factory blows hot and cold: “You bring your heart to us we’ll get it purified. What are you waiting for”. Words and Guitar is a song written in frustration at those who put obstacles in the way of their chosen career. In fact, pretty much all of the album is geared this way. But, on Not What You Want Corin Tucker sings about her surprise at a man asking her what’s wrong: “Do you wanna get the wheel / Swerve my heart / It pounds with steel / He said tell me baby what’s wrong.” and on the girl-crush song Buy Her Candy the song alternates between praising and damning a lover who can’t be lived with or abandoned. There’s love, desire and passion in those words, although Dance Song ‘97 expresses it more obviously.

The closer Jenny ends in a blissed out haze of chiming guitars, and it’s a song that fills me with joy. It shouldn’t do. The lyrics are mournful: “I am the girl / I am the ghost / I am the wife / I am the one.” but I hear the guitars and I think “yeah”. Lots of people have started bands because they were inspired by Sleater-Kinney, and I know why.

Kristin Hersh (yes, her again), said that Sleater-Kinney were what Throwing Muses would have sounded like when starting out if they had known how to play their instruments. I think that’s a bit unfair on both bands. With Dig Me Out Sleater-Kinney created a huge hard rocking album that screams with energy. The vocal interplay, the guitars, everything. It binds together beautifully.

Number 9 of 2003 — Client: Client

“Client. Available on request.”

So begins this album by Client. “Client. We never say no.” And so it goes on in much the same vein. A synth-pop album, produced by two anonymous musicians. “Don’t touch me there.” Yes, this is the same track. All things change for Rock And Roll Machine, where we get to the core of Client, somewhere between Black Box Recorder and 1985-era Pet Shop Boys, with a cooler, more sophisticated air. “Rock and Roll is all I wanna do.”

So who are Client? On the album, and in all press material, they are Client A and Client B. So, that doesn’t help. What about photos? Oh, well they both wear sensible shoes. Hmm…that doesn’t help either.

Client sing about sex Price of Love, drugs Pills, rock and roll (the aforementioned Rock and Roll Machine), love, lust Diary of An 18 Year Old Boy and all points in between. Pretty much everything. Things go dark and murky on Happy and the instrumental Civilian, but soon recover with the stunning Sugar Candy Kisses, with its New Order bassline, and the drop-in of a gorgeous synth string pad just at the right time. Leipzig is another instrumental that seems to be based on an intro to a chilled out Underworld track.

So who are Client? The Yorkshire accent on the vocals is a small giveaway — Price of Love, or should that be “luv”, is particularly dreamy. It’s a delight to hear vocals that don’t try to be from within the M25, or from somewhere in America. The juxtaposition of the technology used and the vocal delivery is very effective. The backing tracks are typically clinical, but always bouncy, and the songs are classically arranged, in the same way that The Lightning Seeds are.

So who are Client? The vocals are by Halifax-born Sarah Blackwood, who used to be the lead vocalist in Dubstar — known really for two things: The ‘hit’ single Not So Manic Now and the infamous pencil-case cover for their first album Disgraceful. Sarah claims that Client are “a dark and filthy version” of Dubstar. The music is written by Kate Holmes. She used to play the flute in Frazier Chorus (Sue, their debut was one of my favourites of 1989), and is now married to Alan McGee, founder of Creation Records. There goes anonymity.

Watch out for a new album in 2004.

It’s fairly unusual to review albums of the last year when we’re well into 2004, but since I’ve just started this website I do think I’m allowed the indulgence. I would have started with Sugababes’ Three, but that would have been boring, predictable, and not worth reading in a blog. So, instead Number 10 — Adult: Anxiety Always.

This is Adult’s first album, if you discount the Resuscitation compilation. If this album was coffee, it would originate from decaffeinated coffee made through a cafetier, and the album would be like the experience of tasting the gunk at the bottom of the cup. That’s a compliment, by the way.

Adult get bunched in with the (now expiring) electroclash revival. What we have here is, on first hearing, typical retro electronic drums of the early 80s, similar era synthesizers and very little in the way of melody. It’s more post-punk than post-electro. Mainly there are repetitive riffs, horribly distorted or arpeggiated, with screeching stabs and squelches from some abused electronic equipment.

However, delve a bit deeper and you’ll hear the rhythms of early Sisters of Mercy, and the detached style of Propaganda and Xmal Deutschland. Some reviewers can’t discern this, but I don’t think they know enough of these other bands, or perhaps haven’t really listened to this album. Believe me, the ghosts are there. We also have the vacant atonal voice of Nicola Kuperus. She talks her way through the album, aside from the couple of instrumentals. On We Know How to Have Fun, she clearly sounds like she doesn’t know. The standout tracks are Glue Your Eyelids Together; Nothing of the Kind – which shows remnants of Cabaret Voltaire, and includes some guitars and excellent placement of electro claps; and People, You Can Confuse, the lyrics of which consist entirely of the words ‘people’, ‘you’, ‘can’, ‘confuse’, and ‘them’, in various combinations, overlapped and multitracked. It’s all very toe-tappy. Well my left foot thinks so.

Is the album a masterpiece? Um, no. Not by a long way. I rate it because it’s interesting to listen to from an aesthetic viewpoint. The rhythms are interesting, and the composition in the main is good. The album wanes towards the end as the melodies (few that there are) get replaced by general machine noise, and the vocals appear more and more detached and flat. It might be intentional. The overall effect is quite wearing.

Two more of my albums of 2003 pick up on the electroclash revival, but, as we shall see are far more accessible, and one of them is a masterpiece.