Can't Be Sure

I've recently become a member of a Whatsapp group album club started by one of my brothers who has a little time on his hands and thought it would be good to introduce a lot of his friends and family to each other (online though some of us have met in real life) and to music we might not have heard. Each week a member of group (chosen alphabetically) suggests an album to the group and the group members then have a week to listen to the album and provide some feedback- did they like it, what did they make of it and so on. 

My brother- let's call him Josh- occasionally intervenes if the group's gone quiet to 'drive engagement' and 'keep people interested' which is probably a good idea because we can all easily forget to reply to messages. I know I can. So far we've done Felt's Forever Breathes The Lonely Word, Sonic Youth's Sister (my suggestion, bit of an opinion splitter, noisy and unconventional in places), Tom Waits' Raindogs, Keith Jarrett's The Koln Concert (completely new to me and one I'll definitely come back to here both to listen to and here at the blog) and The Sundays 1990 album Reading, Writing And Arithmetic.

I haven't listened to The Sundays first album for a long time but still have a copy on vinyl so pulled it out and played it last Sunday night. Several members of the group were huge fans back in 1990 and were transported back to their sixth form days, The Sundays filling a particular gap in the indie world the aftermath of The Smiths splitting up. I remember going to indie nights at Liverpool University in the 1989/ 1990 period where half the girls present were dead ringers for Harriet Wheeler, the quiff/ long hair combination hairstyle, the Levis 501s cinched in at the waist with a brown leather belt, DM shoes. Looking like Harriet Wheeler, in 1989, was no bad thing at all. She had looks and voice that could melt you at twenty paces. 

I enjoyed listening to the album although it felt very time locked to me, very much part of 1990 and a very distinct kind of indie music that was being eclipsed by acid house and Manchester, which is where at that time my head was at. I kept waiting for The Sundays rhythm section to toughen up and kick in but on the whole it's not that kind of record. It's bookish, it's jangly, it knows the way to the library. The singles are all fantastic especially the debut, Can't Be Sure. 

Can't Be Sure

Tom toms, David Gavurin's chiming guitar straight out of the Johnny Marr songbook and Harriet's lovely voice singing of love, luck and money, England's miserable weather, England being as happy as England can be and how desire's a terrible thing. The words are striking, clearly meaningful to her, heartfelt and poetic. 'It's my life/ And though I can't be sure if I want any more/ It will come to me later', she concludes. 

The other singles are really strong- Here's Where The Story Ends and I Won- and I Kicked A Boy is a good song. At the end of side two the closing song Joy delivers a final punch, with Gavurin playing a Vini Reilly sounding guitar part, the bass and drums locked in and Harriet singing loud and clear on top. They push on at the end with a minute to go, the guitar, drums and bass all competing to be at the fore and Harriet repeating 'joy, joy, joy/ Work harder, harder, harder', and just when you think they could easily keep going, go round for a few more bars, really reach a crescendo, they kill it dead. 

Joy

Next week is Madvillainy by Madvillain, a 2004 rap record by MF DOOM and Madlib. An album as far as I know I have never heard.