Does this song sound familiar? If it does, you might think it’s a rip-off of Melle Mel’s White Lines except it was Melle Mel who borrowed this song for White Lines while neglecting to give the band Liquid Liquid credit. A lawsuit ensued causing the band’s record company to go bankrupt and the band to fall apart and in the end, Liquid Liquid received no credit for being the originators of this popular and seminal hip-hop song.
Formerly a punk band from New Jersey, Liquid Liquid became influenced by bands like Can and Fela Kuti and soon after found themselves in the Leftfield Disco scene. The Secret History of Disco describes them as “rock deconstructionists with a ferocious but minimal groove.”
For natives of Los Angeles, rain is exciting. We don’t have many seasonal changes. Wind and water for a couple months a year remind us of the circular movement of life, even if our nature isn’t as obviously dramatic as in other places. In a few days, when the sun starts to shine, the air will be filled with the energy of millions of sprouting seeds as they begin their new lives. We revel in the fleeting greenery they bring to our usual beige surroundings, our lives once again full of color.
On the second anniversary of my Grandmother’s passing, I think of these things. I still miss her terribly but she is always with me in my dreams and in my memories.
I’ve been listening to lots of Arthur Russell lately. His piece Another Thought is a perfect match for the mood of the day.
[audio:https://chimatli.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/arthurrussel_another-thought.mp3]
Listen here for Arthur Russell’s Instrumentals 1974 Vol. 1
More on Arthur Russell’s disco projects coming this week!
For this installment of Secret Disco, I’m presenting notable bands on Y Records. Started by Dick O’ Dell in 1978 and based in Bristol, England, The Secret History of Disco describes Y Records as “twisting the dance floor into new shapes.” Cowbells seem to be the unifying element in all these songs.
Pulsallama-Devil Lives in My Husband’s Body
I thought I was over music like this but when it’s done well like this song from Pulsallama, the appeal of these quirky tracks is rediscovered. I love the steel drums and the way they wander around the atonal chorus and spoken lyrics. Pulsallama was an avant-garde art band from New York and a part of the the burgeoning new wave scene. Ann Magnuson of Bongwater was once part of the group.
Pulsallama was a short-lived, yet legendary, 12 piece all-girl percussion band who ruled Manhattan nightlife for a brief period in 1981 and 1982. Their sound has been described as “13 girls fighting over a cowbell.” Pulsallama got a rave review in New Musical Express in which the reporter said he was “dancing, screaming and laughing, all at the same time!”
Pigbag-Papa’s Got A Brand New Pigbag
Another Y label hit, Papa’s Got a New Pigbag was one of the most awesome experimental post-punk, funk, dance-floor hit songs of the early 80s. The amazing bassline later gets heavily referenced by The Style Council in the song Precious.
Maximum Joy-Stretch (Discomix & Rap)
I often assumed this kind of music was just funky new wave. I had no idea it was being played in dance clubs, I was too young for those activities when these records were released.
We Are All Prostitutes-Pop Group
Pop Group: a few leaps into punk and a boogie into funk and then back into some experimental musical world of their own making, all accompanied by Situ/anarko lyrics.
O.Children is this decade’s version of Joy Division and Bauhaus which is not to say they touch these bands in terms of musical sacredness but more that they are derivative of the gothic post-punk genre of those times. Unfortunately, they have a commonality with many current bands by being over produced and over styled. Despite these criticisms, Tobi O’Kandi’s voice is gorgeous, much richer and fuller than Ian Curtis (if you will permit me the comparison). I also have a special fondness for Tobi O’Kandi because he was previously in a band called Bono Must Die. The band was eventually compelled to change their name by the forces behind the letter U and the number 2.
Kap Bambino – Dead Lazers
Wow, Kap Bambino sure changed their look from a few years ago when I first came across them through the French electro post-happy hardcore music scene and they were all dayglo and shiny. I guess the dark times have returned to Europe too and everyone’s angry again, finally! Or perhaps, bands like Atari Teenage Riot have influenced the new crop of 20teens electro crashers. I predict ATR will be the band to emulate in this upcoming new decade.
Now is definitely the time to fight.
(By the way, doesn’t it sound like she’s singing “dead lizards in the night”?)
Many folks consider this song to be an early precursor to house, the thumping steady beat in the background was unusual for the early 80s. Unlike other songs of the dark wave genre, there is a lot of anger in this song – a relentless release of feelings that struck me the first time I heard it. It’s very manifesto-like.
A remixed house version can be found on the Felix Da Housecat album A Bugged Out Mix by Felix da Housecat.
These days I only have time for music, my only interest seems to be music. The times feel rather dark. Most of my posts for the near future will be music related. Come back in a month for other topics.
The Very Best – Warm Heart of Africa (Metronomy Remix)
We need some new music round here and this song fits the bill. I have a thing for Metronomy and prefer their remix of Warm Heart of Africa over the original.
In my life, I have loved many songs. It’s a rare occurrence but there are a few which I have loved and not known their names. Worse is when their names have disappeared from my memory causing me great consternation. How do you find them again? They are usually odd or rare tunes and even if you hummed them into a phone or something, the phone would look back at you with a great big blank stare. It would be as confused as the voice recognition prompts on automated telephones that can’t seem to understand my ‘yes’ or ‘no’ and so I’m forced to punch the corresponding buttons. So I have no one to turn to, no humming decoder or Dr. Phil DJ that will identify all the random tunes floating in my head and memory. I just wait and hope that one day the song and I will cross paths again and we’ll join each other in an aural connection, love blooming once again.
To get to my point, Looking From a Hilltop is one of those songs. I first heard it when my brother brought it home from Exodus records after a vulgar shopping spree where he dropped about a two hundred dollars (his whole life savings to that point, he was 13 years old) on imported 12-inch records in his quest to be the best South San Gabriel DJ of the 1980s. I don’t think he was as impressed with the record as much as I was. It was innovative for melding new wave vocals and aesthetics with pop-locking friendly beats. It sounded so fresh and new to my ears, I felt innovative just for listening to it. I borrowed the 12-inch for long periods of time and my brother being a bit proprietary (having spent the money to get it to our house all the way from England) eventually asked for it back. Into the crates it went, lost among the Stacey Q and Tapps records.
Every few years I’d ask my brother for “the record.” Find me the record! By then his collection had grown so large it took up most of the family garage. He would look half-heartedly but never seemed to find it. Crushed and a bit obsessed, I started to think I’d never hear the song again. As time went by, I stopped asking.
Just a few years ago, I decided to look for myself. Facing the stacks of crates holding thousands of albums it dawned on me that I’d forgotten the name and artist of the song! I did remember the bright orange sleeve and the distinctive look of the British vinyl – those details recorded somewhere in my internal jukebox. Even with this information, the search was futile, too many crates filled tight with worn records, their sleeves rolled at the edges from all those DJing nights of frantic thumbing-throughs and scraped by the rough wood as the record was plucked from the crate and thrown onto the spinning turntable. No wonder my brother wasn’t so keen on helping me find it.
So guess what happens next? I’m reading the Secret History of Disco book and he mentions Section 25 and I think to myself “Hmmm, the name sounds awfully familiar…” And so I do a Youtube search and there it is, my song! My love, I’ll never forget you again! But I must be honest, you haven’t aged all that well.
The vinyl as I remember it!
Razormaid mix
I think this is probably the version popular with the DJ set as it has a very pop-locking feel to it and none of the wimpy girl vocals.
By the way, to hell with all the record companies that force Youtube users to remove songs the record companies could care less about.
More of Gang of Four soon.
