Phoning it in

Dispatches from the back of the venue

RIYL: New Order

  • ACR: The Joy of Sextet & Force Majeure

    A Certain Ratio are a curious old band. Originally a drummerless quartet in 1979 they played driving, grinding rhythmic noise with ominous vocals and grimly gothic lyrics, prompting an overjoyed Tony Wilson, who thought he’d found the his very own Velvet Underground, to make them one of the first signings to Factory Records. Their debut 7″ is still extraordinary – no drums – the rhythm is all in the guitars – listen to this:

    They eventually found a drummer, and to his dismay Wilson found he’d actually signed a restless, rather prickly group of impulsive music obsessives who couldn’t decide if they wanted to be Weather Report, Funkadelic, Wire or a New York disco outfit so decided to be all those things at once. They became (in his words) “a complete pain in the arse”. They’re now approaching their 50th year having gone through line-up changes and stylistic shifts that make Fleetwood Mac look like Status Quo – but the core trio of Kerr, Moscrop and Johnson are still in situ and they appear to on a late-era hot streak with Mute Records curating their back catalogue, new records and now a regular touring fixture coming to your town soon.

    Here they have paused new music and dipped into the back catalogue again with two ‘companion records’ that celebrate acknowledged classics from the Factory Records era; 1982’s ‘Sextet’ and, from 4 years later, ‘Force’. These new records are perhaps what might have been bonus discs with expensive super-deluxe edition box sets – but given they have already re-released these albums in multiple different variants (including bizarre ‘monochrome’ sleeve editions) they’ve taken the wise decision to just release these as stand-alone curiosities rather than get fans to re-buy the same albums they probably already own at least one copy of. Hats off for that.

    ‘Sextet’ is a really bloody weird record. One of the best albums Factory Records ever released, in a beautiful textured sleeve by Hacienda designer Ben Kelly – it was an exotic blend of Latin rhythms, funk, jazz and New York loft party tunes all filtered through the minds of some ‘chemically refreshed’ scallywags still learning how to stay in tune and in time (apart from their powerhouse drummer Donald). Add to that – Wire/Brian Eno inspired noise and proto-sampling using a tape deck -including a snippet of Bet Lynch on Coronation Street “Us barmaids have got homes to go to an’ all y’know”. It’s a heady brew and, that old cliche, a band reaching for something they don’t know how to do and creating something new in the process.

    ‘Sextet’ was quite hard to come by for years after release and was never issued on CD until Creation Records picked it up in the early 90s. Its cult appeal has grown over the years and many regard it as ACR’s finest work. ‘The Joy of Sextet’ is effectively a complete remix of the original album – albeit missing three tracks so clearly this isn’t a Giles Martin/Steven Wilson job staying doggedly faithful to the original. Remixer Andrew Meecham aka Emperor Machine varies in the amount of liberties he takes with the original. The original master tapes have been used so what we get to hear perhaps is a bit like one of those ‘Classic Albums’ TV series where someone sits at a mixing desk and dips faders up and down – homing in on specific things you may not have heard in the original. We get to hear the interplay of Simon Topping and Martha Tilsons vocals in a lot more clarity, an instrumental part gets a bit more highlight here and there (the slap bass on ‘Day One’ is particularly slappy), a bit of extra reverb or delay, often paring back some of the busyness of the original mix. At times, particularly on ‘Waterline’ (a favourite of the late Andrew Weatherall) it is more of fully dubbed up remix – radically altered and rejigged but as far as I can hear everything is taken from the original tapes.

    Taken as a whole, ‘The Joy of Sextet’ is flawed in that it reigns in the experimental wildness of the original album – albeit you end up with some versions which could probably work well in a contemporary club DJ set which are based entirely on what the band played and recorded at the time. ‘Tumba Rumba’ (a b-side not on the album) is reworked and shown up as the “banger” that probably should have made the LP after all. ‘Below the Canal’ however, an absolute highlight of the original album gains nothing from Meecham’s reimagining -slap bass and percussion brought to the fore nicely enough but he dials down all of the mystery and wonder and atmospherics- we’re skimming over the fully cleaned up and dredged canal here. For the real deal, hear the original and swim around among the murk, the shopping trolleys and the weird life-forms that ACR imagined below the canal in 1982 .

    At best, ‘The Joy of Sextet’ shines a light into the dustier corners of whatever it was the band were trying to do in Cheadle 45 years ago. You will immediately want to go and play the original record and hear how extraordinary it really was – which may well be the point.

    ‘Force Majeure’ is an open goal Midge Ure missed when naming his autobiography, and it is also the title of the second companion disc which fans can now file alongside the ACR album ‘Force’. This time, rather than a remake, we get to hear a set of 4 track demos for the original album discovered by the producer, the late Stuart ‘Jammer’ James. The ‘Force’ album was a real change of approach for ACR at the time. They had added more “proper” musicians with Tony Quigley on Sax and keyboard player Andy Connell on board – who went on to be a chartbound hitmaker with Swing Out Sister. The resulting album was a dramatic change from the eccentric, balmy Manc funk of ‘I’d Like to See You Again’ into more suited & booted sophisto-pop territory. It was a collection of proper songs with verse, chorus, middle eights.

    Although it became a firm fan favourite, Force didn’t trouble the charts, much to ACR’s chagrin, who parted company with Factory for not giving the record enough of a promo push. They’d end up on A&M Records who had no more idea what to do with them than Factory did, but had a bigger budget. ACR found themselves at the dawn of ‘Madchester’ with a very smooth, slick soul dance record on a major label while bands like Happy Mondays (who they directly inspired) suddenly soared ahead of them. That’s another story.

    The sleeve notes find them recalling a gruelling, Spinal Tap style tour promoting an album which wasn’t available for anyone to actually buy due to Factory experimenting with new packaging materials or whatever. ‘Force’ really should have been a hit – it’s a fine, elegant record of jazz tinged pop, with strings and brass – perfect for 1986 – with enough Mancunian drizzle to give it a somewhat melancholy bedsit vibe – a touch of Everything But the Girl, Danny Wilson, China Crisis even Blue Nile – albeit with an undertow of the percussive funk that remains the groups bedrock. It sounds like a completely different band to the one that recorded ‘Sextet’ just 4 years earlier:

    The demo versions are remarkably similar to the album suggesting the band really did have these tunes fully worked out before they went into the studio sessions. In that sense, what you get is more lo-fi (but very listenable and lively) versions of the album itself. You also get the title track that never was ‘Force’ (itself a strange reworking of ‘Forced Laugh’ from their 1980 debut album). You also get a substantial out-take in the form of b-side ‘The Runner’ and a classic ACR percussion workout ‘Nostromo A Go Go’ – all were properly recorded for the actual album sessions too (and available elsewhere) but not in these early versions. This then is a quirky addition to their catalogue, but functions best perhaps as a sort of live session version of the album proper and a reminder of the mission ACR were on at the time. Civilians would be better off listening to the actual album and this is strictly for ACR nerds (they exist!) – but those nerds will find themselves perhaps hearing the proper ‘Force’ album in a new light and will definitely want to add this to their collection.

  • Cabaret Voltaire

    Cabaret Voltaire

    Just outside the city limits of Sheffield, Forge is a relatively new music venue. It is reached by crossing the Tinsley Canal, ducking under a railway arch, passing still functioning industries, the twinkling lights of the city in the distance until you reach the converted Victorian steel forge – it’s an almost too perfect setting for Cabaret Voltaire.

    Over time, the sonic ripples that three mischievous teenagers created by larking around with tape recorders and primitive electronics in a Sheffield attic are still only just becoming clear. They were inventing the future of music. They were also researching our future and critiquing it. They were doing this in 1973(!) before Kraftwerk had ditched the woodwind and released ‘Autobahn’.

    It’s fair to say this is one of the more unlikely musical reunions in recent years. Of the original attic trio Chris Watson left in 1981 to work in TV – most notably as a highly respected sound recordist for wildlife documentaries. Although he swapped a life in electronic pop music for working with David Attenborough he never forgot his roots and continued to release field recordings, sometimes bent into uncanny musical shapes like ‘El Tren Fantasma’ and the recent ‘Oxmardyke’ (highly recommended both).  Stephen Mallinder (Mal) went on to have a flourishing solo career, teaming up the likes of John Grant and Jane Horrocks. Richard H.Kirk is no longer with us of course, although he claimed the Cabs name for a brace of new recordings and played sporadic live shows in his final years – albeit with a militant ‘no nostalgia’ stance and playing only sets of his own, ferocious new material. It is fair to say, it would be highly unlikely he’d be up strapping on a guitar and playing ‘Nag Nag Nag’. 

    So it’s a surprise and a delight that Chris and Mal have reunited as Cabaret Voltaire for a straightforward celebration — a chance to square the circle of fire, have some fun, and craft a new performance to satisfy the surge of interest that has grown exponentially during their absence. There is no new LP to promote. This is a retrospective rather than a reformation. There’s only a handful of live dates (suffice to say this isn’t a Gallagher Bros style cash grab) but those few dates sold out instantly and the excitement in the air is palpable. Dear reader I am thrilled to bits – I have been obsessed with the Cabs since 1990 when I first saw a feature, including some clips of ‘Nag Nag Nag’ and ‘Yahar’ on Snub TV where they were promoting ‘Groovy Laidback & Nasty’ (a collaboration with Chicago House legend Marshall Jefferson) and tried to fathom how they joined all those dots. Formative stuff. 

    It’s worth remembering that, apart from Kirk’s sporadic solo shows the last time there was a ‘tour’ was in 1992. I had a ticket for a gig in Liverpool that was cancelled as were several other dates due to selective appeal. The band were floundering somewhat – making decent but under-the-radar electronica records. There was a nag-nag-nagging sense they were playing catch up rather than blazing the trails for others to follow. 

    33 years late….Bass bin rattling thumps herald ‘Theme From Earthshaker’ and four musicians file on stage to a massive roaring welcome. Watson is presiding studiously over a bank of modular synths conjuring all sorts of spectral waveforms. Mal is flitting between a series of mics so he can do straight vocals, vocoder and terrifying Dalek voices that make those early CV records so unsettling and downright alien – and occasionally playing an odd little vintage bass guitar as only he can. They’re joined by Eric Random – a musician deeply embedded in the DNA of post-punk Manchester and Sheffield since the 1970s. He played on several CV records including the seminal ‘2×45’ and his scything guitars are a revelation tonight – he’s perhaps the 4th Cab. On electronic percussion should Mal’s long-time collaborator (as well as John Foxx and many others) Benge – but he’s got a sick note and been replaced at last minute by Oliver (from the group Moonlandingz) who does a remarkable job (apparently he was planning to be in the audience and now has the dream ticket thwacking out the beats instead).

    So how do you go about representing the long and complex career of CV in around 80 minutes?. Their early material could be abrasive and murky, sometimes disturbing. They often changed direction – sometimes alienating fans along the way who perhaps didn’t understand that CV wanted to keep progressing, keep exploring new sounds, new rhythms and new ways to communicate. They wanted to make people dance too. They wanted to make Pop records, albeit in their own roguish way and with the same geopolitical and social themes.

    The opener is an unexpected choice (’24/24′ from ‘The Crackdown’) recoded after Chris had gone to Tyne Tees Television. As it turns out the set draws heavily on that album and ‘Micro-Phonies’ when they were signed to Virgin Records and becoming more of an electro pop band, albeit informed by the same impulses of their less commercially minded work. It’s clear that they have spent a lot of time working out the set, recreating sounds and reimagining songs to the point that it’s like we’re hearing what they would have done if they’d had access to more advanced gear at the time. Songs like ‘Animation’ and ‘Just Fascination’ suddenly sound more like the classic synth pop hits that could have been (the fact that Phil Oakey of the Human League is stood a few feet away from me nodding in appreciation only underlines that one). Perhaps the most striking upgrade comes with ‘The Set Up’. On the original Rough Trade single from 1978 it’s a brooding, lo-fi Velvet Underground whine with an unsettling and relentless Bontempi beat. 2025 Cabaret Voltaire turn this into a monstrous technoid cyber-garage drone of interweaving buzzsaw guitars and thundering rhythms. It’s utterly astonishing.

    The sound in the venue is immaculate. Loud, full of energy and vivid with detail. Everything needed to be right tonight because this might never happen again. The lighting and presentation is also perfect – CV were always ahead of the game in using video art and projections and tonight their archive of mesmerising visuals is put to good use.

    The next surprise is something new – a piece called ‘Tinsley Viaduct’ that will form part of Chris Watson’s next project ‘Inside the Circle of Fire’ based on field recordings made in this very city. Watson seems to be relishing the opportunity to engage with the music made after he left the group and rattling the venue walls with his synths. In a recent interview in The Wire he makes clear that there was no bad feeling, he remained a fan- Mal says the music was always informed by his DNA and so in some ways, Watson never left.

    It would have been nice to hear them tackle more more of their earlier material – we get a stunning rendition of ‘Landslide’ from Red Mecca for instance but – that said, it is also an utter delight to hear them play ‘Easy Life’ – a key track from a somewhat underrated period when the Cabs were collaborating with the same Chicago and Detroit Techno pioneers that they indirectly influenced. ‘Yashar’ also gets an airing – in a sort of hybrid between the band version on ‘2×45’ and the US electro remixes – the video footage of some very cool 80s Sheffield dancers and Richard and Mal running around the derelict Sheffield Victoria Station is the perfect visual setting and the club sound system is firing on all cylinders to prove that this is indeed music for the limbs as much as the mind. 

    They close with two songs, what else, ‘Nag Nag Nag’  – followed by ‘Sensoria’. The former is a an absolute monster – an electronic music masterwork up there with The Normal ‘Warm Leatherette’ or Soft Cell’s ‘Memorabilia’ (played by the DJ afterwards as a nice tribute to a recently departed Dave Ball) and given that supercharged garage rock electroid boost that thrilled us earlier in the set. ‘Sensoria’ is looser and more stretched out – and closes the set in tribute to the Sheffield arts and culture festival that has tipped the hat to CV and promoted the show tonight. (By the way – there is also a very progressive club and music venue tucked away off the main shopping centre in Sheffield called ‘Gut Level’ after a CV tune – another nice nod from the city and another very meaningful legacy – the Cabs are perhaps to Sheffield what the Hacienda was to Manchester)

    CV have a few more dates on this tour and there is already a show at the Roundhouse in London booked 2026. This could be a one-off in Sheffield, and so tonight the fans gathered here from all over the world (I had some lovely chats with a few of ’em) and got a chance to experience Cabaret Voltaire, say thank you and be reminded of the ideas and possibilities and provocations they kicked off. This wasn’t a nostalgic event, it was an exercise in plugging CV back into the national grid just for a moment and letting them blow a few fuses again.

  • Factory Floor

    Factory Floor

    Dreams can come true. Many years ago Factory Floor, never a band shy about revealing their influences, wrote a letter addressed to ‘Stephen Morris – Macclesfield’ with some demo CDs enclosed. Luckily, like when kids write to Santa c/o Lapland it reached the right letterbox and the stereo of the wry New Order drummer who recognised an energy and propulsive drive familiar to his own early synth experiments. Morris promptly offered to remix them, and FF would soon be sharing a stage with Steve, Gillian and Bernard.
    Nik Void would have similar success hooking up with the enigmatic Chris & Cosey of Throbbing Gristle and sultry electro-pop fame resulting in a stellar series of collaborations.

    There was a major buzz around FF back in 2010 and I saw a few live performances most memorably a near upstaging support slot with Wire (courtesy of The Quietus). They never failed to mesmerise live – but perhaps on record didn’t always ignite the imagination. In my opinion they leaned a little too much into the New York Post-Punk Party groove rather than the ultra sleek electro of their early singles. More DFA than DAF you might say.


    Cue auspicious solo careers for both Nik (working with Klara Lewis and the late Peter Rehberg) and Gabe Guernsey (solo works and remixes for Depeche Mode etc) but 7 years on the draw of dusting down the modular synths and the drum set was too much and here they are now…a mere 45 mins later than advertised (we’re on ‘White Hotel time’ tonight).

    They may have been in absentia but there is a room full of minimal groovers delighted to welcome them back. They are sans original third ‘Floor’ Dom Butler but with percussionist and knob twiddler Joe Ward adding some extra beats and pieces there’s plenty of action on stage. From the first synth throb, heads are nodding and feet are moving as much as they can in the cramped space and it strikes me that there’s no better place for this comeback than on yer actual industrial floor in a suitably grimy setting. This music needs volume and is perfect for the ‘orrible Hotel’s secret weapon – their monumental sound system.

    On a superficial level, FF’s music is inordinately simple. Two note basslines, treated vocals, acid squelches, metronomic drumming and the odd cowbell. It’s quite telling though how many bits of synthesis and wiring are required to get that seemingly basic sound – with FF it’s all in the tiny details – tweaks, bursts of static and ghost sounds – and when Gabe becomes the human beatbox and it all clicks in nobody can touch ’em. Highlight of the set is new single ‘Between You’ – as close as FF have to a shiny pop song with a nod toward Underworld at their most sprightly.

    FF are on just shy of an hour which flashes by in the beat of a strobe light. Notably the crowd are a mix of hip young dancers and a few veterans of New Order & The Fall gigs – hip Salford clubland meets The Vikings – and tellingly there’s a little singalong at the end as the DJ cues up Echo & The Bunnymen which reminds me of the crossover appeal of Factory Floor. For all their experimental edge and obfuscated vocals they’re a great electro pop band at heart. They recall the great lost Factory band Section 25, and perhaps Gerald Simpson’s early acid experiments.

    None more Manchester in fact.

  • Pale Blue Eyes & Shaking Hand

    Pale Blue Eyes & Shaking Hand

    The Devon / Sheffield crossover Dream pop combo delight a Wednesday night crowd in Manchester

    Support comes from Shaking Hand who I’ve already seen at one of the excellent Hot Take band showcase gigs at Yes Manchester. They strike up an unhurried, circular groove and there’s something immediately appealing about them as the venue fills and people gather to listen rather than ignore, as can happen with supports. We’re in good hands with this unassuming 3 piece – guitar / vocalist playing distinctive weaving guitar parts, a drummer pattering away with jazzy flourishes but with a pleasing kick, and a bassist who frequently doubles as a twin lead – playing the higher register of the instrument. They have a post-rock edge to them, a little bit of Slint or early Tortoise perhaps, or the fabled Leeds band Hood and while the pieces they play are enjoyably drifty at times – they aren’t averse to wrong-footing us with a sudden tempo change, a burst of noise, a scrape of strings here or a cheeky rhythmic curveball there. They wear their guitars well, they play studiously but with a confidence that suggests they know how they good they are- I like them a lot and, judging by the applause, everyone else does too. There appears to be no recorded material available but hopefully they’re busy in a studio somewhere bottling that magic.

    On to the headliners. I’m a bit behind the curve with Pale Blue Eyes but Piccadilly Records piqued my interest and I’ve been enjoying their latest record ‘New Place’ which it turns out is their 3rd album so I’ve some catching up to do. For a band who trade in dreamy, shoegazey pop they have a disarmingly chummy and light hearted air about them – in fact their footwear remains un-gazed at and they spend most of the time looking and grinning at each other and the audience – it turns out PBE here to have a good time and so should we.

    The band have toured with Slowdive and they share a love of using guitars and keyboards to create a sea bed for the songs to float on but they have their own distinct sound that is sparkly, upbeat and distinctly pop-tastic. Lots of major chords, and at times this sounds like ‘The Big Music’ – think Simple Minds in their early 80s pomp but also informed by Stereolab, and the locked groove of Neu! or La Dusseldorf – but just when it seems they might lean a bit too much into that well-worn trench coat – they pull out a moody, slower number or throw in a gorgeous chord pattern or bassline that has their own distinct stamp on it. They have art college roots – and drummer Lucy, it transpires wrote a thesis about Cabaret Voltaire – so, again, we’re in safe hands and these people know what they’re doing

    There’s something very appealing and convivial about PBE – there is a husband & wife duo at the core (Matt and Lucy), who have relocated from Devon to Sheffield and the new record which is informed by upheaval and loss – and it’s hard not to be moved by the joy emanating from the stage – they feel like one of those bands that will inspire a certain amount of loyalty (I’m thinking of Sea Power who they’ve supported) and they’re going to be a bit of a regular fixture. I’m on board!