Northern Scum
I've often said that the Housemartins were my favorite band when I was sixteen. But who knows? I think there were ten versions of me back then and one of them really loved the Housemartins. To the bewilderment of the me who couldn't stop listening to Psychocandy. And that version really annoyed the me who was trying to explore all the murky nooks and crannies in Fables of the Reconstruction. And all those guys were strangers to the me who was still obsessing over Eurythmics, Howard Jones, Dream Academy... I was a thrift store cardigan-wearing, shaggy fake-black-haired mess. In Chatpile, Mo. Then again, what teenager doesn't wear multiple hats? And given a closer look the Housemartins possibly inhabited these contradictions more than any of the other bands in my tiny tape collection.
Bouncy hyper guitar pop, piano Gospel, a cappella, instrumental, and under all that sunshine the most sarcastic, biting, black-humoured lyrics, somehow deriding and uplifting at the same time. Cute & nerdy, all smiles and goofy dancing, nice clean-cut guys, one of whom would end up writing children's books, one would go to prison for attacking someone with an axe, one would become some guy named Fatboy Slim, and a couple would go on to launch The Beautiful South. Which is really why I started writing this.
I was distraught when the Housemartins broke up. I had no experience with bands breaking up and going on to do solo stuff or to start new bands so I had no idea what to think. And even though the ensuing gap was filled, stuffed - suffused even - with the magic of Pixies, Cocteau Twins, Dead Can Dance, Galaxie 500, I remember the happiness I felt sitting on the steps of my dorm with my first Beautiful South tape. The songs were still catchy, the lyrics still disconcerting, and the addition of Briana Corrigan's unique voice was something I was ready to appreciate. So, even though they aren't the same, I have been able to extend my Housemartins love for almost 20 years.
To be honest, the first two albums and Blue is the Color (which I only have a taped copy given to me by the lovely HWBoles) are my favorites. 0898 and Miaow are good enough but there was something starting to annoy me which I think was more present in Quench. The music seemed ever blander and the lyrics just more of the same. Jacqui Abbott has a nice voice but for me, TBS without Briana Corrigan was kind of like 10,000 Maniacs without Natalie Merchant--pleasant but lacking. And at twenty tracks, Painting it Red was just too much for me to handle. I believe I played it twice and sadly, I wasn't even aware that the band had released two more albums and were on their third female vocalist.
Apparently, they were very popular in Britain, and it amazes me how a band can be so well-known there and barely make a splash here. I was floored to hear one of their songs playing while I was grocery shopping in London. I was holding a packaged cheese sandwich in mid-air thinking I was truly in another world. I was only ever able to make one person a fan, outside of my one Housemartins buddy who bailed with Miaow, having the same objections to the lyrics that caused Briana to quit the band. Now they are no more and the fact that it doesn't bother me bothers me more than the band splitting up. I imagine I will eventually get the last two cds. I am curious to hear the new girl. A review said that they were doing some things musically that they hadn't tried before so that might be interesting. Maybe not though. Part of the problem is that the music that has excited me over the past decade is less song-structured and more noisey, droning, clattering atmospheric muck. And I don't think The Beautiful South will ever sound like Bardo Pond or Flying Saucer Attack. I wouldn't want them to.
