Punk's 2nd Generation

Rip It Up, Issue 12, 1 June 1978, Page 12

Punk's 2nd Generation

Generation X

Chrysalis Along with geezers like the Buzzcocks, Adverts, Johnny Moped and Wire, Generation X form what you could call the second line of punks, that is, bands that have surfaced behind the big media names Sex P., Clash, Jam and Stranglers (the pensioners???). As it happens these second liners are currently producing the muscle, whereas for my money only the Clash of the old guard have avoided going to fat. Generation X have got the muscle despite having had a lean time last year with two soft-core produced singles (“Your Generation” and “Wild Youth”) by Sweet producer Phil Wainman. Y’ can excuse Wainman really because X's vocalist Billy Idol

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has the pouting lips and bleached blond hair of a teeny pop hero not a decimated intellectual punk visage of a Keith Richard. Anyway, exit Wainman and hello Martin Rushent, Stranglers and Buzzcock’s producer who has used his ability to the maximum on this Generation X debut by giving Mark Laff and Tony James (drums and bass respectively) depth without losing the treble impact of Bob Andrews’ strident guitar work.

From the songwriting angle the band revolves entirely around Idol and James (he used to be in the London SS with Clash’s Mick Jones) and they have come up with some perceptive songs and more than a few strong melodies. Some of their material is concerned with the rock biz itself; the dangers of selling out in “Promises Promises” (“And punks are taking over Top of the Pops”); and their'tribute to the ’6o’s TV glossy pop series “Ready Steady Go" (”l’m not in love with Juke Box Jury"). Who can blame them?? “Kiss Me Deadly” owes something to Springsteen with its jangling guitar intro and streetkid vocals, “One Hundred Punks” and “Youth, Youth Youth” are songs about being punks. Proud to be punks. Their songs are delivered with the same positive aggression and emotional commitment that was present in the music of the Yardbirds, Pretty Things, Kinks and the Stones at the height of the '6O s. No exaggeration.

If I’m betraying my age then you’re betraying yours by not buying this.

George Kay

Kevin Coyne Dynamite Daze Virgin Kevin Coyne began his career on the London pub circuit and now, after five years and four albums, he is at last gaining the attention he deserves. If people can be judged by the company they keep, this album suggests he has come a long way. Zoot Money is there, along with Tim Rice, Bob Ward and Al James. The style hasn’t changed from his previous releases, it’s just been refined. And his style is an uncompromisingly direct form which owes a little to a lot of people. There are flashes of Ray Charles, of Gilbert O’ Sullivan, of Zoot Money and Alan Price. Had Coyne not been a musician, he might well have become a poet his lyrics, bizarre at times, have a different feel from the usual singer/songwriter combination. Tracks like ‘Dance of the Bourgeoisie" and ‘‘Are We Dreaming" would have been called protest songs in the 60's. Today they slip past, barely noticed as social comment, but they are still important. "Amsterdam”, "Brothers of Mine” and "Woman, Woman, Woman” are the highlights as far as musical arrangements go, but “Lunatic”, a good foot stomping number, is in Coyne's best style. Rough and ready with a lot of feel for the lyrics. One gets the impression that he himself may have spent time dancing with madness. It is a recurring theme of his and he seems to have it in perspective. In fact, Covne has his whole act in perspective. There- wouldn't be a track here which would make it on the Top 50, but then Kevin Coyne hasn’t attracted his following compromising to mediocrity. Jon Adams

Stiffs Live Various Artists Stiff Late last year Stiff Records went on the road in England with a tour aimed at presenting itself and its new talent to the hinterland. The album perhaps captures the tour’s success and its failure, in that rather than a recording of a concert it has the appearance of an in-performance sampler. Each artist gets a couple of tracks in which to parade his wares; naturally, some show more promise than others. Nick Lowe kicks off with his classic “I Knew the Bride” (assisted by Dave Edmunds), but his second tune is a bit of a blank. Wreckless Eric has a couple of goodies, ‘‘Semaphore Signals" and “Reconnez Cherie” and Larry Wallis closes side one with a delightfully dumb chant, ‘‘Police Car.” Elvis Costello, so far the most touted of the crew, opens Side Two with Burt Bacharach’s "I Just Don’t Know What to Do with Myself”, a good choice rather undermined by ineptitude in the rhythm section. “Miracle Man” is so-so. But the best for last. lan Dury and the Blockheads wind up with "Wake Up and Make Love With Me” and “Billericay Dickie”. Dury’s manic vocalising and his superb band make these two ribald songs the stand out performances of the collection. To cap his own two brilliant songs, Dury leads the entire cast in his anthemic “Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll” (that’s the song, by the way). A heartfelt finale, well worth the price of the album. Ken Williams

Drßuzzard’s Original Savannahßand Meets King Penett RCA Dr Buzzard’s Original Savannah Band are mulattoes, sort of half-Negro, halfSpanish. Except their percussionists. They're Mexicans. Some of them look Italian. Their lead singer often sings in French. Before you tie your brain in a knot, just recall a song called “Cherchez La Femme", which received mucho airplay last year. Sort of Latin disco with a touch of Glenn Miller and the Spanish Salsa sound. Salsa is the kind of music most Poms hum to themselves after returning from their annual dose of food poisoning on the Costa Brava. Put on that silly sombrero and form a conga line. After the disco overdose, the Buzzards are a welcome breath of fresh air. They describe themselves as being “simple and stupid, like the4o’s.” Certainly, the wartime big band sound comes through strongly in the brass arrangements. Had Miller survived, it’s likely he would have sounded a bit like this. Buzzard mainman, Stony Browder Jnr handles all the songwriting chores, putting together tunes which, while not grabbing immediately, soon become very hummable, and are meat and drink for delicious vocalist Cory Daye. The Buzzards have got class. This record should come with a free fedora, doublebreasted suit and stick-on, pencil-thin moustache. Foxtrot, anyone? Duncan Campbell

Allen Toussaint Motion Warner Bros.

Allen Toussaint began to achieve reknown in the early 60’s, first as a producer/arranger based in New Orleans, then also as a songwriter. (Anyone remember Lee Dorsey’s “Working in a Coalmine”?) These days, while his Sea-Saint Recording Studio remains continually booked up by top stars, Toussaint’s chief fame probably rests on his writing. Many artists, from the Pointer Sisters to Three Dog Night, have enjoyed huge hits with his material. Motion is the man’s third album. His second, released in '75, was entitled Southern Nights. (Yeah, Glen Campbell liked it.) It never found great popularity here and can often be seen languishing in sale bins around the town. While Toussaint can be brilliantly successful in producing others it’s ironic that he’s never quite found the magic for his own recordings. And unfortunately it holds true for this new release. Basically, I think, the problem lies with Toussaint’s vocals. His voice is undistinguished, of limited range and too weak to provide real dynamics. Under these circumstances, Toussaint’s decision to change backing musicians for this album becomes problematic. Whereas, previously, he has relied on The Meters to furnish that dry Southern funk, here he employs some West Coast supersessionmen. The result, despite the New Orleans production, is a slick smooth sound which blends with the vocals rather than provide a necessary counterpoise. Overall, then, I’m disappointed. I guess, as on past occasions, this record will probably be of most value as a lode for other artists to plunder. Hmm, there’s a suitable song here for Bonnie Raitt, one for Manhattan Transfer, maybe Lou Rawls . . . Peter Thomson