Jim Jiminee: Wearing garlands at the dole office

By Neil Peacock

It’s Friday night, the telly is tuned into the (then) eclectic Channel 4.

The Countdown clock has been run down, and a nation’s youth awaits the new edition of The Chart Show – the latest hits, the dance and indie top tens, amazingly trite facts about the groups, all encompassed in head-spinning computer graphics.

The highlight is the Indie chart, but tonight the best songs are glossed over; the forward button’s on, the picture spins out of control, that is until the producer stops at ….. well who the hell ARE this lot?

“Monday morning, oh no, I can’t escape, suburbs calling, oh no, it’ll have to wait…”. A voice from a bachelor pad springs out from the screen, bedroom in disarray, he’s singing about being skint and waiting for his giro to arrive. He’s singing about my life. The picture fades out, fuzzy images cut into suburban lanes, tree-lined streets, and the rest of these sharp suited hipsters dragging a couple of old bangers and a scooter off to the pub. Or so that’s how I remember the video by Jim Jiminee.

It was over 20 years ago and I haven’t had the opportunity to see the video until this week. I think my memory served me pretty well. More importantly, in a few fleeting moments, they had caught my imagination, what one might call a seminal moment that embeds and pulses within your brain over the years.

Jim Jiminee hailed from Fleet in Hampshire, comprising Kevin Jamieson (lead singer/guitar), Peter Dyes (lead guitar), Delphi Newman (keyboards), Nick Hannan (bass), and Lindsay Jamieson (drums). Another notable ex-member was Harriet Wheeler from The Sundays who had sung in an early incarnation of the band called Cruel Shoes. Jim Jiminee sounded like the best of Mod-style indie-pop combined with surprising elements of skiffle and subtle jazz, Kevin sang about relationships as tragicomedy, life on the dole; semi-routes to small town madness.

Their first EP Do It On Thursday, released in 1987, is an indie classic, when indie actually meant independent. It was, rightfully, a top 20 indie hit, featuring four life-affirming songs; the type that made you want to throw your best hat in the air, kiss your dearest friend, throw yourself into your neighbour’s goldfish pool, that sort of thing. They were all suffused with natural energy bursting life; they made signing on the dole sound like the finest thing you could do.

This was followed the following year by the equally excellent I Wanna Work EP, and now they were actively looking for a job, but on their own terms – ‘I wanna work for my pleasure, I wanna find myself a boss, I’ve had it up to here with leisure, but I don’t like playing squash.’

The EP included the jazzy pop of This Is Your Life, a tune about a rich girl, poor man relationship. One tune I’m Your Candidate, exposed the world of slimy politicians, ineffective local MPs; ‘THE UNEMPLOYED, TO HELL WITH THEM’, Kevin exclaims as if reading aloud from a Tory Party manifesto, backed by much guffawing and loud applause. Combining dark humour with politics, it is easy to see the connection some critics made between Jim Jiminee and some of Madness’s early recordings.

Then came the magnum opus, Welcome To Hawaii, a record I was glad to find in Probe Records in Liverpool, and one I listened to frequently during the summer of ’88. The album showed a slightly more reflective side with songs like She’s Gone Too Far and Wasting Away, but generally the mood was upbeat and carried on the quality of the singles, in particular on A Habit Of You – a song about addiction that only love could bring. The original album came with a lyric insert and on the back a great photo of Jim Jiminee wearing garlands and looking slightly bemused on a typical English beach, an obvious reference to the title of the LP. The vinyl, released by Cat and Mouse records, is now worth a small fortune although it was reissued in the early noughties by the now defunct label Vinyl Japan.

Like a doctor of good taste, my enthusiasm for the record made me loan it out to a friend I was living with during my university days. He loved it too, and 18 years later I’m still waiting for my copy back. Some people would call the cops, but I still have faith that my friend, who lives in another part of the country now will do the decent thing … one day.

The final EP Town and Country Blues was released in the Spring of ’89. Sadly, it disappeared almost without trace, and I was unable to find a copy until long after the group split. By this time Delphi had left, and the video, which appeared to be filmed in a disused trailer, was featured on The Chart Show. The mellow, but very fruitful, The Honest Truth gave us a sneak preview of how they might have developed. The other songs were a demo from ’86 called Hunting Out Of Season, and a piano ballad version of Do It On Thursday, Kevin singing the song like a Hampshire Sinatra propped up at the bar at 4am wanting one more for the road.

Without a decent promotional campaign, the single stalled and, after recording The Thatcher Years, – posthumously issued by Vinyl Japan – Jim Jiminee split up. It’s a shame this wasn’t released at the time. Although not as cohesive as the first album it contained many gems including the Kinks-style satire of Man In A Tracksuit, the regretful If You Search For Love and, potentially a great single in the final track Impetuous Girl. They also performed another standout song from the LP, Never Let Her Go (or at least Kevin does) for a German TV channel again bedecked in garlands whilst the other members try to put him off his playing, funny to watch if you ever find the footage.

To outsiders they will only be seen as a small footnote within popular music history, but to those who caught them live (I sadly did not) or bought their records at the time (I gladly did) they left a glowing imprint and a warm smile upon one’s face whenever I listen to them. Do it on Thursday? Why wait? Do it today.

End of an era, the lowdown on Lowdown

 

The previous edition of Lowdown on the New was the last. Hurrah you say. Hurrah I damn bloody well say too. Writing these columns has become onerous and unenjoyable. They served a purpose for a long time, to bring in interest to the site and to allow me to flex my music journalist brain muscles.

But they also served a more self-centred side. Let’s rewind back to the mid-90s when I was producing a series of fanzines that was hard work with little reward, and also writing reviews for my student newspaper. Back then, with a massive proliferation of small labels with owners willing to spend time until the wee hours packing CDs in padded envelopes, zine and student rag editors would annoy the hell out of their posties with the weight of packages to poke through the mailbox. When I became a reporter on a weekly rag I penned a popular music column which meant going into Aberdeen to see bands, interview the odd semi-famous or fading pop star and review albums. And by fuck did they come through the door, singles, EPs, albums, some with gimmicks such as matchboxes or button badges. It was the musical equivalent of endless blow jobs from leggy redheads.

While the majority of stuff sent in on-spec reeked of one-chord indie plagiarism, this was a window to bands I’d never come across otherwise and there’s an attic in my homeland weighted down with some of the ones worth saving. What I didn’t like (about 90%) I’d flog to a shop in Dundee – one massive load netting me three quarters of the price of a flight to New Zealand – or would provide handy birthday and Christmas presents. Like every other music hack, I was a champion bludger, a gold medal-winning blagger,

Needless to say those days are long gone, there’s few goodies to gain, and those that do come through the door are delivered only by shedding blood, and kissing arse. It’s a digital world, baby, and that’s good for both writers who can get the music without delay and for the labels who can dispense with interns spending the whole shift stuffing envelopes with Grade D indie bands.

That’s the history, but as I said earlier, it’s too time-consuming whatever I would be receiving with a full-time job, partner, baby and a new-found love of knitting.

That said I will continue to review certain new albums if they are deserving of a fuller review that I can afford under the limitations of the column at the moment.

Porky Prime Cuts will have more band features, and more personal diatribes. The stuff we feel we do best at.

Lowdown on the New 39 – A good kicking

 

Who: Paul Weller 

Title: Sonik Kicks

Label: Universal

Tell me more: Has he still got the fire in his belly? Was the magnificent Wake Up the Nation a last hurrah?

The Lowdown: In a 21-year solo career, Weller has never dwelled on the successes; every album is a new adventure, and to be truthful, some have needed to be to make amends for a lapse in judgment. Such an accusation can’t be levelled at Sonik Kicks, a glorious ride through rock and electronica’s magnificent history. Dragonfly soars like Goldfrapp with the scent of sci-fi wafting throughout. Around the Lake is a course, bitter fruit, with drumbeats and screechy effects mingling with guitars-a-plenty. Krautrockers Neu! are an influence on this record – Kling I Klang is the most obvious reference point – but Drifters has a flamenco touch, Paperchase has ‘a slight Blur feel to it’ says Weller himself and it’s hard to disagree. And while all this sounds mesmerisingly dynamic, the finale, Be Happy Children, is a beautiful ballad which features his own kids. Like Bowie he is a living legend but like The Grand Dame, he has that innate ability to change and move in a new direction, without sounding like a bandwagon hopper.

 

Who: Mystery Jets 

Title: Radlands

Label: Rough Trade/ Rhythmethod

Tell me more: Siblings are common in bands, but fathers and sons in the same group are far less so: in the Jets case it was Henry (dad) and Blaine. The Jets had a very promising start releasing excellent period piece singles like On My Feet and You Can’t Fool Me Dennis, from 2005 which formed part of the following year’s excellent Making Dens album.

The Lowdown: If truth be told, the Mystery Jets have hit some turbulence since then, Serotonin – released in 2010 – was remarkable for its insipidness. I have hopes that Radlands will be a return to form but, alas I’m unable to say that. For a start the cover has the band within a map of Texas, which reflects the recording location, but looks like a corny country or MOR album from 1975. They arrived in Austin for the recording process only with guitars, and borrowed “all this amazing valve gear from an old guy called Jack,” but Radlands still sounds contrived. This isn’t the same band who created Making Dens, this is a four-piece who’ve matured, and the joyful pop sounds have dissipated. A shame as there is a majestic break-up song about who takes what from the record collection. Greatest Hits namechecks Paul McCartney and Mark E.Smith and Blaine Harrison tells his spurned lover: “You can take the Lexicon of Love but I’m keeping Remain In Light”. Hale Bop is cringeworthy but would go down a storm in a rural bar where they have both types of music: country AND western.

 

 

Who: Alabama Shakes 

Title: Boys & Girls

Label: Rough Trade

Tell me more: Gaining some attention in their native USA and beyond, the Shakes are three guys and one girl, vocalist/ guitarist Brittany Howard.

The Lowdown: Much of the publicity for one of the band’s gigs in London this year was due to the presence of Russell Crowe who is either an Aussie or a Kiwi depending on his behaviour. I don’t know anything about his taste in music but he isn’t exactly an expert on new music. And therein lies the problem with a A-List celeb endorsements: they know little more than me or you. Crowe and everyone else in the sweaty venue may have loved the Shakes that night, but alas, I find it hard to get remotely excited by this record. Howard overdoes it, coming across as a new Joss Stone, while the band do their best with the material they have at hand. Overwhelmingly disappointing but they are trying too hard to sound like other people.

 

Who: The Heartbreaks

The cover from the promo copy, which I find better than the commerical one

Title: Funtimes

Label: Nusic

Tell me more: Edwyn Collins is one of the producers on this debut album by a bunch from the seen-better-days English resort town of Morecambe. They are supporting Morrissey soon.

The Lowdown: If what some people wrote were to be true, The Heartbreaks are the new James or Libertines. They are neither of course, but such attempts of hyperbole reek of smoke and mirrors, or just simply becoming carried away.
Funtimes is jaunty, effervescent and joyful, while referencing the decline of the great British seaside resort. You can imagine they spent their pre-teen years on the coconut shy and ungainly wrapping their right arm around a girl, “I’ll be waiting outside the Winter Gardens, feeling slightly worse for wear; if talk of romance thrills you, honey, maybe I’ll see you there?” sings Matthew Whitehouse on Winter Gardens.
Collins’ influence is noticeable on Remorseful but not overly so. Standard indie guitars abound and it reminds me Tom Allalone and the 78s, who promised more than they actually delivered but the vigour, passion and northern Englishness of Funtimes is winning me over with each listen.

 

 

Who: Some Velvet Morning  

Title: Allies

Label: MyMajorCompany

Tell me more: Anyone who names themselves after a Nancy Sinatra/ Lee Hazelwood song needs more investigation. The morning is Des Lambert, the velvet is Rob Flanagan and the some is Gavin Lambert who hail from London. Porky hasn’t sniffed them before but they have released several singles and an album since 2006.

The Lowdown: It’s telling that Chris Potter, who has worked with Verve and U2, is involved. Des Lambert wants to be both Bono and Richard Ashcroft at the same time, with a dash of early Coldplay and perhaps the Cure. That sounds like an impressive roll-call, but it is a little deceiving. Black and white artwork and band photos and a track with a German title (Unterbrechen) makes them seem dark and mysterious. But musically they’re fairly one-dimensional. It is one of those albums that’s both rewarding and frustrating. One the one hand there’s some epic soundscapes like the single How To Start a Revolution that make you feel like reaching for the sky and shouting the lyrics. But the frustrating side is that they aim for that orgasmic feeling at every opportunity, and, like Usain Bolt, you can’t run a world record in every race.

Anything else: MyMajorCompany operate by crowd funding, a way of raising money to be able to raise the capital for an album, and SVM raised £100,000 in this way.

Just who is the 5:30 hero?

In the days when British television had decent music coverage on the box, there was a one-off series that stood out because it relied purely on emerging acts.

Its title I have long forgotten but thanks to Mr Google I have discovered that it was called the Yamaha Band Explosion and was filmed at the Marquee Club in London. The BBC recorded all the shows, which had the children’s TV-style presenter Gary Crowley, interviewing the acts before they took to the stage.

Everything else I recall – the shoegazing bands who looked aloof and self-conscious in comparison to the electric Manic Street Preachers and an act that sadly has disappeared completely off the historical radar, 5:30, who were also known as Five Thirty.

The details might be hazy but the vision is still clear in my mind: both the Manics are 5:30 were at their electrifying, snotty magnificence, but had to share the same stage as bands who stared at their feet, had minimalist lyrics and immersed themselves in wah-wah effects. (see clip at the end of this article)

5:30 were in a sticky situation, both in terms of the show and in music in general. If they’d arrived a few years later they would have been among the vanguards of Britpop, though that may, in itself, be a disservice to their talents.

Remember, that Ocean Colour Scene were among the shining lights of the mid-90s, but they were a far, far better band in 1990-91 when they were also deprived of adulation.

Timing was cruel to 5:30. In 1991, the world had a choice between the Madchester/ indie-dance bands, shoegazers, techno geeks and the grunge noiseniks from the other side of the Atlantic. It was impossible to market a band decked in shirts from Carnaby Street, and a sound that fitted none of those scenes. They even addressed this injustice on an album track, Hate Male: “This song ain’t exactly what we’d call money, but we don’t care.”

Their sole album, Bed, which was released a week before Nevermind, is a classic of the era, and I was delighted when Scouse Neil burned a copy for Porky, as my own vinyl platter is residing in an attic in Scotland. How I’ve longed to hear those tunes once again.

Supernova was the burning pop single with heavy tremolo-effected guitars that should have gone as high as No.9 in the charts; 13^th Disciple was tuneful, sexy and owed a debt (slight as it was) to the Stone Roses. Junk Male used some clever guitar techniques with an alerting opening stanza: “If God were to ever come my way, I’d spit into his face. Then calmly walk away. ”

Songs and Paintings was about how creativity couldn’t change the world: “Songs and paintings never brought a regime down. It cannot be fair.”

It was surprisingly diverse, ranging from funkier numbers, to ballads and guitar-driven numbers, although the edge and velocity of the two 1990 singles was largely missing.

Check this blog for more details of the records

http://fivethirty5-30.blogspot.co.nz/

While their recording history is brief, the band was in existence for seven years, forming in 1985 while Tara Milton and Paul Bassett were still at school. Despite their youth, they released a cracking EP (as 5:30!) that same year headed by Catcher in The Rye, that was both brimming with youthful cockiness and the headstrong maturity of a much older band.

What happened thereafter is largely unknown but they reappeared in 1989, without the exclamation mark, and had beefed out into a three-piece with Phil Hopper joining on drums. Soon after they signed to East West, in the days when real talent could get you noticed by big to middling labels.

The following year the second single, Abstain, was unleashed, sounding like late-period Jam and Clash rolled into one. Later, in the year of Fools Gold, Step On, Then and Sit Down, came Air-Conditioned Nightmare. Not quite as good, perhaps, but pretty damn close and ahead of much of what many other, more successful, but more limited British bands were doing.

These singles set them up for a big 1991, and they ticked all the boxes: 13^th Disciple was released in May, Super Nova in July, Bed in September, and the You EP, in November. The singles reached No.67, 75, and 72 respectively. Naturally, Bed never stood a chance. The radio DJs, the sycophantic music journalists and the TV producers were nowhere to be seen when they were needed most. Other than those records, they’re only other release was a version of My Sweet Lord for the anti-Poll Tax compilation, Alvin Lives (In Leeds) in 1990.

The almost vilified (even among their fans) Northside had more success. But they were from the Greater Manchester area and gave the impression they’d been the Happy Mondays roadies, while taking all the appropriate substances. Make of that what you will.

5:30 split up in 1992. Hindsight might proffer that, had they been more aware of how the tide surges and subsides, they could’ve been contenders. But you can understand why they packed it in. Pop music is a fickle industry indeed. Milton formed The Nubiles, Bassett was part of an equally obscure act, Orange Deluxe, while Hopper left the music industry altogether.

My vinyl copy of Bed is much played, and the CD-R is getting its turn when the time allows. I only wish millions more could say this same thing, rather than press play for Morning Glory, or the vastly overrated Bandwagonesque.

 

Lowdown on the New 38 – getting dirty

Who: The Black Seeds 

Title: Dust and Dirt

Label: Rhythmethod/ DRM

Tell me more: The Seeds were planted in 1998 and this six to seven piece New Zealand band has remained pretty constant, both in their line up and their love of reggae and ska.
The Lowdown: Solid Ground from 2008 moved the Seeds in a slightly different direction, one that encompassed more influences. This is something they’ve  developed even more on Dust and Dirt, although the trademark grooves and skanks are very much in abundance.
You can imagine they’ve been listening to early 70s funk, early 90s acid jazz and Curtis Mayfield on the tour bus. There’s an enormous amount of great ideas on this album, which is undoubtedly their finest yet, and the one that could smash open doors in North America, Europe and the Democratic Republic of Congo. Loose Cartilage is apparently inspired by an AC/DC gig though clearly attended with a sachet of good quality weed; Frostbite reminds me of much of Mike Fabulous’s solo project Lord Echo and Love Me Now is the kind of laidback reggae New Zealand acts do so well.

Anything else:

Who: Majestic Dandelion 

Title: Majestic Dandelion

Label: Sound Cafe

Tell me more: If I could I would. The Dandelions are a new act from somewhere in Scotland, featuring the brothers Craig and Graeme Ralston, one of whom has an unfortunate likeness to the super-weasel Mick Hucknall, and bassist Liam Kavanagh.

The Lowdown: Indie pop ain’t dead yet. New record label Sound Café have discovered a very amenable outfit dripping with influences in Britpop and Cream, that creates a mash that reminds me of Waterboys offshoot World Party, though they are probably unaware of that act. Born Near the River is wonderfully ear and radio friendly, Time Is on Your Side is equally complaisant, Just Having Fun is a jolly romp. However, Falling Over Laughing is the kind of thing I would expect from a C-grade indie rock band from Doncaster trying to be ‘intense’. That aside Porky hopes this album attracts the attention of people who know better, and at 28 minutes it is the perfect length in this concentration and time-challenged era.

Anything else: Go check soundcaferecords.co.uk

Who: Cygnets 

Title: Dark Days

Label: MPLA

Tell me more: Three lads from Edmonton, Canada’s fifth-largest conurbation who glorify in the label new-wave revivalists.

The Lowdown: Cygnets appear to revel in the term dark optimism, which of course  sounds like an oxymoron. They tackle human issues, subjects that effect and affect us all but they often find a way out of the crevasse. Musically, while they espouse such lights as The Smiths and Depeche Mode they remind me of the many early and mid-80s bands who, while not goth, were bleak, minimalist and used emerging technology. Most of them didn’t do that well: think Theatre of Hate, the Virgin Prunes, Xmal Deutschland, and their most contemporary cousins, The Horrors. This is not easy listening, it doesn’t find a comfortable compartment in the brain, rather it takes a number of listens to ‘get it’ and then in a certain mood.

Anything else: You can get free music, including this album, at cygnetsnotswans.com

 

Lowdown on the New 37 – the Cover Up

Who: Of Montreal

Title: Paralytic Stalks

Label: Polyvinyl Record co.

Tell me more: The baby of Kevin Barnes (who’s actually from Athens, Georgia) who, since 1997’s Cherry Peel has released an album almost every year. On this, all songs are written, performed, engineered and produced by Barnes himself.

The Lowdown: The cover suggests some strange goings on and indeed there is a host of mind-blowing happenings in Paralytic Stalks. Barnes seems intent on getting the kitchen sink in: sing high, sing low, throw in some dark lyrics, go rocky, slow it down, go dancey, pretend to be Bowie, and so it goes.

Spiritual Invention reveals where his mind is at: “It’s fucking sad that we need a tragedy to occur, to gain a fresh perspective in our lives.” Which at least suggests he appreciates the cycle of life: that the tunnel always has a light. But then we realise all hope is gone: “Nothing happens for a reason, there’s no point in even pretending, you know the sad truth as well as I.” Now I understand that cover much clearer.

Paralytic Stalks may well take a few plays to get into but the bleakness of the words, and the schizophrenic nature of the music makes for a queasy listen.

Anything else: Barnes once had a relationship with a woman “of Montreal”.

 

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Who: aCivilian

Title: Invention

Label: Hungry Audio

Tell me more: “Indie tunes with a heavy attitude” is one description I have come across for this Norfolk, eastern England-based band.

The Lowdown: Opening track, Cheat, with its grinding guitars suggests we’re in for a rocky ride. And yet, as soon as its follow-up, All This Get Me Down Wrong, the band has swung toward the opposite end of the pendulum, offering up a funky interlude and a nice even pace. I love the piano on The Madness in Everyone (curiously it sounds like Madness, the band). There’s some intriguing words here – “as you feel the fire, you pass the flame along,” on the otherwise disappointing These Friends. I can’t quite make up my mind about Invention; there are either heart-pumping moments, or it is melodic and enchanting, working on occasion and flailing like a fish on the end of a rod at other times. I guess once Phil Critten decides to stick to a tried and tested formula, we shall hear the best of aCivilian.

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Who: Goldfrapp

Title: Singles

Label: EMI

The Lowdown: The cover uses Allison Goldfrapp from Supernature as its central imagine surrounded by images of previous album covers; and the track listing defies chronology in typical record label fashion, which means the electro-frenzied Strict Machine is followed by Lovely Head, and as anyone familiar with the duo will back me up, that’s just wrong.  Yeah, it’s a blatant, no-effort cash-in job to fill a gap. The redeeming feature for fans is the inclusion of two new songs, both of which are infinitely better than anything that was on the disco-affrontery of 2009’s Head First. Melancholy Sky is a typically subtle and mesmerising track that highlights what a magnificent voice Allison has. Yellow Halo is in a similar vein, spikier than the tracks on Seventh Tree, but still beautiful and evocative. A new album is due sometime this year, and it’s unclear if these tracks are a portent of what’s to come, or even if they will be included. Which would be unfair on fans.

The Archer hits the target: The band Dexy’s loved too much

By Neil Peacock

 

The Blue Ox Babes should’ve been one of the most important bands of 80s. But the fact is they were shafted. Royally.

While there were contributing factors to the group succumbing to obscurity, the fact that Kevin Rowland appropriated their folk-gypsy sound, and even headhunted their fiddle player for Dexy’s Midnight Runners, was undoubtedly a tipping point.

He’d later apologise, but it was too little, too late.

Back in 1982, Dexy’s were everywhere with the single, Come on Eileen, dominating the No.1 chart spot in the UK and elsewhere; there was no dance floor or radio station that was immune from its rousing tunefulness. The album, Too-Rye-Ay, was just as successful and nothing can detract from the brilliant singles from it, which is one of the best of the era. But it’s universally believed that the Babes took a king-hit, something the liner notes for the CD release of their sole album claims in unguarded terms: “Ironically, the ensuing success of Rowland’s Celtic Soul concept made it more difficult for Archer to secure a recording contract, with the Blue Ox Babes being dismissed by many as Dexy’s sound-alikes.”

The Archer in that paragraph is Kevin Archer a former member of the original version of Dexy’s Midnight Runners and the frontman for the Babes. 

Archer’s involvement in Dexy’s in the early days was as important as Rowland’s. The duo had formed the short-lived punk outfit The Killjoys in 1977. And in the summer of 1978 the pair formed Dexy’s Midnight Runners with Archer the main guitarist and backing vocalist, with Rowland up front. Archer – who was known as Al Archer at this point – lasted until 1981 when there was a clearout of band members including Mick Talbot, who went on to form The Bureau, and later had rampant success with The Style Council.

Archer’s parting gift to Rowland was to help put together a new band for the Plan B single. It appears at this stage Archer had designs of forming a group which in his words would “be based on traditional American folk music”.

The Babes around 81-82 comprised a few people but the core was Archer (guitar/ vocals), his girlfriend Yasmin Saleh (vocals), Ian Pettit (drums), Andy Leek (piano, mouth organ), and Nick Bache (guitar) with Helen Bevington (later O’Hara) playing violin on the 1981 demos while Corrin and Carl (surnames unknown) also played on demo tracks.

The loss of the multi-talented Andy Leek, disillusioned after the Dexy’s success, hit the band, and Archer did  not feel it appropriate to take up a deal with Stiff Records, fearing they would be dubbed Dexy’s imitators, when in fact the opposite was true. The Babes disbanded.

But in 1985 Archer plucked up the courage to put the Babes together again, and began gigging and recording. Again this line-up was ever-changing with some Dexy’s refugees finding their way into the line-up but the main line-up was Archer, Saleh, Pettit, Pete Wain (keyboard), Steve Shaw (violin), and Nick Smith (sax).

The band’s first single was There’s No Deceiving You, a fine pop song; the combination of the lyrics ‘Run, run away to the country’ and Shaw’s violin envisages a memorable summer hoedown in the park. The 12” also included an excellent cover of Al Green’s soul classic Take Me to The River, which is much better than the Talking Heads version.

This was followed by Apples and Oranges (The International Hope Campaign) – a four track EP. Three of the tracks were wondrous pop classics, the fourth Russia In Winter, a beautiful, long pastoral instrumental. Have a look around record store bargain bins, charity shops and the net, you may still find a copy for a measly sum. Needless to say, if you do find it, you will be buying one of the best bargains ever.

Neither troubled the charts nor the airwaves. Lack of promotion, and sparse reviews in national music mags were the only indication they existed. Hard to understand why when Go! Discs were having so much success at the time with Housemartins/Beautiful South material, and artists like Billy Bragg.

They were probably still suffering from the Dexy’s connection, being labelled by some who should know better as copyists, and not as good as the real thing. Even though as we know now, Rowland inherited the sound from Archer. Rowland’s success in 1982 he now admits was a “hollow success” and he has apologised to Archer for not giving his ex-musical partner enough credit. Nevertheless, to say the two acts sound similar is a disservice to both and the Babes sound was an individual one and drew on different influences.

There are probably regrets from Archer that their music had not been released to the public sooner. In the year of house music, and the so-called ‘second summer of love’, there did not appear much of a place inside the Top 40 for Archer’s deeper, spiritual music. But it was pop music all the same and a huge disappointment that after two flop singles any interest the record company may originally have had in the band was beginning to wane.

There was one more single Walking OnThe Line, featuring a cover of Cassius Clay towering over a defeated Sonny Liston. But, this was not the knockout hit the group needed. I recall reading a review for the single in Record Mirror, but besides this there are big doubts as to how well the single was distributed, I have personally never seen a copy. As a result, The Blue Ox Babes drifted into anonymity. Kevin Archer has only been heard of since discussing the Dexy’s era. In a BBC documentary aired in 2000 he seemed to have settled past issues with Rowland, and was proud of what they had achieved in their time together.

However, a more recent interview with Archer still suggested a bitter aftertaste as he laid claim to his royalty cut on Come On Eileen being reduced from 50 per cent to just 10; a contract he suggested signed under duress as a result of his ongoing problem with schizophrenia. Whatever an outsider wants to make of this, musically the man has not been heard, and this is a great shame as Archer obviously possesses a brilliant musical talent that has never been fully utilised.

Early era Blue Ox Babes.

Following the three singles, a one-off album Apples and Oranges, with a slightly bizarre sleeve of a young girl holding said fruit was intended to be released but shelved. A few promo copies sent to the music press leaked out on cassette. Apparently the LP was meant to be called ‘The Desire for Verification Is Understandable But Cannot Always Be Justified’. More than anything, the album gave an indication of how Dexy’s might have sounded if Archer had stayed with the group. On tracks like Bedlam and Ballad of The Blue Ox Babes, Archer created a warm, soulful sound, completely alien to the synthetic sounds of 1988, or for that matter Kevin Rowland’s solo album from the same year.

But, eventually good news was to come, in 2009, as part of Cherry Red Records’ reissue programme of 80s obscurities; Apples and Oranges finally saw the light of day, with a CD release, including all the singles and B-sides and a thick booklet detailing the history of the band and rare photos from their early stages to the point when they should have cracked it.

And the rather sad looking girl on the original album cover is looking happy again, and rightfully so; it is great to have these songs back again.

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By Neil Peacock