The grotesque nature of surviving so much pop dross and the near constant rain that saturated our low-grey skied, heroin drenched lands, required a healthy level of resilience to stare down. Not everything needed intensive, ongoing confrontation thankfully. Few figures exemplify these breakthroughs better than Chris and Cosey and Fela Kuti.
Throbbing Gristle have a peculiar place in the pantheon of forces in British sound. They were a few years ahead of anything these early teenage ears could latch onto. The cheeky name itself, similar to the humour of slang like a 'Glasgow oyster', pulls you in. A provenance including Hull's murky, damp, North Sea city state and the potency of their retrospective aura, were akin to the zoned out state accrued from hours of snooker tedium, drowned in tv static after the national anthem finished, one ear in a dream and the other in a warped, analogue mosaic of crackling, pixelated hexes. Shady shadow lands.
Anyone who plunges into electronic music with any degree of intent will encounter their presence at some juncture. The question is then, how do you process what you're listening to? How do you tally the pretentious and the savant-esque innovation? Spend time in the company of committed TOPY heads with tales of notorious gigs, huge mirrors and ubiquitous trench-coats, chances are hyperbole about sonic bombardment isn't far away. So what? Slayer. Game over. Except the more you listened, the more layers you peeled away and a deeply nuanced versatility revealed itself. Hamburger Lady has been cited, hence for succinctness case-study 1
No sooner had you tapped into this seam of gold, you then found out (with hindsight) they'd split. Gutted as fuck. Cue Psychic TV. Something seemed a bit
off, to put it mildly. The tv thing, preposterous mullets, 'sketchy' videos that were pretty tame, neither titilating or transgressive. Thank the gods Sleazy and Balance left. However, to counter that dismissive remark their manifesto vid of unyielding strangeness still resonates. What the fuck is happening
23!
Most of the above is a preamble to discovering Chris and Cosey's partnership. Seeing CFT's portrait for the first time - her unassuming confidence and majesty of presence - was marked by paradoxical bafflement. A goddess among mortals making
these sounds? I'm all in. Fuck my ears. Another gateway drug, top tier table topper. Music caned at night with mates or lying in the dark with the walkman on, riding on the bus or train for away days, sat in underpasses blitzed on speed and acid. A rinsed discography. If people were averse to Chris and Cosey, they were clearly ignoramuses and no doubt worshipped Def Leppard, the ying to Sheffield's mystical yang.
The first few Chris and Cosey listens were spent fine tuning your ears and working out their kit array. Forensics. Closer to CV, but very different, traces of Manuel Göttsching. That reads like a wine tasting guide
View credits, reviews, tracks and shop for the 1982 Vinyl release of "Trance" on Discogs.
www.discogs.com
View credits, reviews, tracks and shop for the 1985 Vinyl release of "Technø Primitiv" on Discogs.
www.discogs.com
Dancing Ghosts listed previously, hence the omission and attempting chronological order with future releases avoided too. However, the composition with all the charm, the supreme-point Breton endlessly searched for beyond any contradictions, is found here
'88 had Blue Monday and piling into Temple Records, Would list as per, except there are some gear changes coming. Before heading to Nigeria and colliding head-on with specific forces of nature, here's a furry chiller going full Gristleism. Aww