Missed Connections #1: Male Pattern Band - Junkyard Pop EP
Posted in SHOFT on Friday 4th February 2011 at 8:02am
This is probably destined to be an all-too-frequent series of posts where I very publicly catch up on something I should have heard a long time back. Often, things will crop up on the various blogs and podcasts I peruse, and I'll end up thinking I should have followed that link much earlier - especially when there is such a fantastic array of free stuff out there which requires almost no effort or investment to check out. This is just such an item, with Male Pattern Band making this three track EP available for nothing. The great risk of such a strategy is I suppose that people won't value the product in a society where despite times being tight, the idea that you get what you pay for still prevails. That patently isn't always the case as this short but direct and insistent set of songs amply illustrates.
Listening to Male Pattern Band I'm not moved to draw comparisons with their contemporaries at all - there really isn't much which sounds like this right now. In fact, with the solid but melodic rhythm section and sparse guitar work I was moved more towards the clipped US post-punk anthems of Mission of Burma. There is an inevitable nod to Pavement too - in a sense bridging the gap between the 1980s and this frighteningly young band. However, a band hailing from Renfrewshire can't possibly avoid Glasgow's strong magnetic pull, and there is equally a distinct influence from the slew of sorrow-tinged lyricists which the city has produced. This is evident not least in the frequent reference to 'rain' in the three songs here!
Opening with the short but well-crafted Kinks-like pop of 'Raining' the record peaks with 'Wilt' - opening with Chris McCrory's melodic vocals and driven forward by a solid but spiky instrumental backing. The track takes a menacing turn before exploding back into melodic life with a lyric full of regret and bitterness - and lets be honest - that's what we need from music like this with it's sparse, direct and emotional connections. 'Cable and Cloth' is a gentler, more wistful and reflective affair - where a loping synthesised melody and the ubiquitous glockenspiel join the trademark guitar strums and play over a near country-and-western rhythm. Apologies readers, it's much much better than I make it sound! The true test of a record is perhaps how much it reflects the band's live performance, and I hope to get the chance to test this out soon. In the meantime, this EP is finding it's niche on those home-bound commutes after frustrating days - when things don't quite go to plan, but you know you were right all along...
You can read an interview with Male Pattern Band at Glasgow PodcArt's site.
Male Pattern Band - Wilt
I've written about music intermittently for the past ten years or so, and during that time I've read a fair bit about it too. I've been constantly amazed how often people reviewing things, and I include myself in this, use the phrase 'indescribable'. Is it the ultimate get-out clause perhaps? To suggest that something is beyond the writers comprehension (either as a positive or negative statement) seems a bit of a weak response to challenging art. But some things are difficult to pin down and to glibly describe in a short review - and 'In Rooms' is very much one of those odd things. Born of a challenge laid down by comedienne Josie Long to The Pictish Trail, this record contains fifty songs of exactly thirty seconds duration. This could be a gimmick - it could be a disaster in fact - but what has emerged from this project is a set of fully formed miniature songs. Beautiful works in themselves, and full of the heartbreak and hilarity which Johnny Lynch specialises in - but tiny and detailed. A bit like the toy soldiers your granddad used to paint perhaps.
The album is available as a vinyl only release - a recent Fence policy which is causing me to hunt down a decent USB turntable very much as I type, but there is a concession with this release to a CD-R of the tracks. This isn't to facilitate or appease the digitally-obsessed among us at all - it is in fact to offer the listener the opportunity to hear the tracks in an order of their choice. While Pictish Trail has assembled what he feels is the best running sequence on the vinyl, each CD-R has a different run. In the spirit of this, my first instinct was to hit 'random' and listen. A strange, bewildering and sometimes frustrating experience followed. Songs appeared, the constraints of the timescale meaning that introductions were short. Then a verse and a chorus and they were gone. For some tiny nuggets like 'Sweating Battery Acid' this was just enough - the idea of the song condensed into a thudding electronic pulse made sense. In other cases like the sublime 'Not To Be' its much too quick - and the song could happily have carried on. Indeed, I understand it does when Johnny sings it live - and I wonder how many of these little gems are in fact experiments which will develop further?
However it would be a mistake to think this album is a joke or gimmick - or indeed anything less than a collection of carefully constructed songs like any other. There is wonderful music here to be savoured - ranging from the bizarre and entertaining disco romp of 'My Fizzy Bitz', through the plaintive acoustics of 'Tell Me What Is On Your Mind' to the throbbingly danceable falsetto of 'Arm In' - which has more in common with Johnny's Silver Columns project. Personal favourites include 'Wavelengths' and 'Prequels' which in their short spans manage to summarise the clever, intricate and detailed songwriting which are hallmarks of The Pictish Trail. There are of course, far too many tracks to mention - and the breadth of material means you definitely shouldn't listen to my opinion. Go and buy this soon instead!
In considering this record though, the curious world of Fence Records is also a key factor. There is something warm and encouraging about the ethic at work up in Cellardyke which makes every listener feel like part of a special family - but like all families, there are frustrations and disagreements at times. However, they're soon healed with a talk and a drink, and an invitation to visit. After all, this is nothing that won't be fixed by shelling out on a turntable! However, out of respect for the stance Fence are taking, I'm not going to include an MP3 with this review, as we all know there are clever ways to misappropriate them from media players! No, folks - this is one to discover yourself via the shop at Fence Records. The oddity and novelty of the presentation aside, this record manages to showcase the many and almost impossibly varied talents of Johnny Lynch. Don't let the strangeness put you off - it's time to embrace the Fence and learn to love The Pictish Trail all over again.
I felt out of practice at this railtour business as I pondered the walk over to Temple Meads for today's festivities. In 2010 I'd done more tours than ever - perhaps even more than was strictly sensible, and it had become almost an everyday occurrence to wake up at a ridiculous hour in a hotel to reach the start of some trip or other. But after the customary break which occurs between December and January, it was actually pretty good to be back - and with an interesting itinerary ahead. My spirits were further gladdened by just catching the catering stall opening in the station too - which meant much needed sustenance was available. As I reached the top of the stairs, the stock was just arriving with 66070 at the helm - a new one for me, which was a fine start to the day - and indeed the year. Found myself seated across from a familiar gent who likes his peace and quiet - so left him to it. Across in the bay of four there was a chap who would make up for the rest of us in the talking stakes - a retired solicitor with lots of interesting stories and thought, but with an incredibly booming voice. I learned to tune this out early, and concentrated on the customary sleepy run up to the Midlands.
One curious feature of this trip was the lack of photo opportunities, a short break for the purpose was booked in Sheffield, but I managed to sneak out at the extended pick-up at Birmingham New Street for a shot of the 66. At International we changed for a pair of BARS Class 31s. It was comforting to see them waiting at Stechford as we passed - so we would at last get more of these on the mainline after a long break! Impossible to get a shot of the pair at the station however, as our long train and two locos took up the entire platform. Also thwarted in getting a decent coffee upstairs too, so paid a visit to the kitchen car which was doing a fine trade. Once underway again we headed through the Birmingham suburbs, passing Bescot Yard and avoiding Wolverhampton to reach Crewe. Here we curved around the back of Basford Hall Yard in order to take the Independent Lines through the 'Muck Hole'. Still a favourite bit of line for me - and lots to see in the yards around here too. We resurfaced beside the Manchester line, which we followed as far as Sandbach where we peeled off to take the slow trundle through Middlewich. Given the increased diversionary use this line now sees, it seems odd that such a slow speed is permitted. Noted the locals had erected mock station signs in the town reading "Middlewich Needs a Station Now".
We now entered the confusing tangle of lines around South Manchester which always rather perplex me, despite having fairly frequently used them on tours. First we covered the line to Altrincham, heading east here via Northenden and the freight only link to Hazel Grove. This took us onto the Hope Valley line without getting entangled in the busy routes through Stockport, and we were once again picking up speed and staying pretty much on time. The weather up in the north was bright and cold, which made for fantastic views over Edale as we headed for Sheffield. At Dore and Totley, we came to an abrupt halt - apparently due to a TPWS application. The ensuing delay meant that our booked photo stop disappeared entirely, but we did stick pretty much to time - which meant most of the rare track would be covered in daylight - a bonus at this time of year!
Leaving Sheffield, we reversed and added celebrity locomotive 60099 at Westthorpe - covered on a previous BLS visit before heading through Sheffield on the former Great Central viaduct, passing the near obliterated remains of Sheffield Victoria station. I'd wanted to do this bit of line out to Deepcar for some time, and the views over the city were pretty spectacular in the misty sunshine. The train reached the expected limit outside the exchange sidings, after quite a long run up the valley. A very swift turn around followed, and we headed back down to Woodburn Junction where we turned north towards Tinsley. This line, parallel to the tram route to Meadowhall has also intrigued and confused me in equal measure. Trying to understand the mess of routes around this area and their development over the years is part of my earliest inclination to track bashing. We headed passed the southern curve into the yard, now out of use and very overgrown, and reversed again at Tinsley South Junction to use the northern chord. Once over the level crossing we pressed as far into the yard as possible on what appeared to be the former 'Line 2' according to Quail. The through lines which used to rejoin the 'Old Road' rusted beside us, but there was evidence of a connection into the curiously named Outokumpu steel plant.
Another reversal took us back through Sheffield and into darkness as we headed down the Erewash Valley and through Toton. A couple of final bits of interesting route though as we passed Derby on the goods line and headed right to the buffers in Chaddesden Yard to drop off 60099, before heading south again to Washwood Heath Down Siding, where we swapped the 31s for 66127 for the run home. The trek back south was sleepy and long - and I was finally forced to apply headphones to drown out the booming solicitor chap, who had a habit of not knowing where he was despite the provision of maps and a knowledgeable travelling companion. Rolling into Temple Meads pretty much exactly to time, this seemed like a pretty promising first trip of 2011, and while my stiff legs and back from eighteen hours of railtouring complained, I was pretty happy with the day's travel. It's good to back on unusual tracks.
In these strange days early in the year, I seem to have developed a set of trips which I repeat. Seemingly it's about a two year cycle, but with some variations and the general pleasure just of being out and about again after the disruption of the festive season, it feels new and interesting all over again. So, it's a couple of years since I last went to Stansted Airport although of course if last year's Class 40 trip had made it, I might have thought twice about revisiting so soon. Today's trip, circling in the opposite direction to my first visit, effectively meant I'd used all of the track into the station. This of course wasn't the aim particularly, I just wanted to get out and about after a rather grim and testing week at work, and this was how I planned to do it.
First up, the traditional combination of the first train off Highbridge and the 07:00 from Bristol. My routine was in danger of falling at the first hurdle as breakfast looked to be in jeopardy, but found an alternative outlet and soon settled into the journey north with music and coffee. It was good to be out and about, the sun barely rising as we headed through Gloucestershire. Pondered the tricky week, and the minor victories which had occurred as we trundled slowly into New Street. Time here for a coffee and to watch the world go by on the concourse. Haven't done that for a while, and it was good to be back - if a little chilly when the icy wind blew through the doors and whipped around the busy ticket counters. Down to the platform for the Stansted service, surprised by a small group of men carrying armour and spears. Figured they weren't revenue protection people, but kept my ticket handy just in case!
One of the great pleasures of this journey is the trip across the fens in the misty winter sunshine. However, there wasn't much sunshine in evidence as we climbed over the West Coast Mainline to call at Nuneaton. Snoozed a bit towards Leicester, as far as I could given a very shrill young lady who sat a little in front of me with her boyfriend. He told her she had a 'cute' voice - but her girlish shrieks actually made my eyes hurt. Slipped on the headphones again, but this seemed to irritate another couple who joined at the next station. I'm not sure the gentle sounds of James Yorkston would have been too alarming - but I heard her check with the guard that I actually did belong in First Class with them. When he assured her I was entitled to be seated there, she simply hissed "disgusting!" at me. Too sleepy and relaxed to be irritated, and I decided to just enjoy the run through Ely and into Cambridge where she and her rather mouselike partner left the train!
Once at the airport, made for the same coffee shop I'd visited last time, and watched the drama around the ticket's for Fence Records' 'Homegame' play out on the internet. This ended up in some very silly online banter which resulted in my taking a slightly later London-bound train than planned. Had no desire to hang around the airport though, so dashed for the 14:15 which was operated by the ominously number 317666. After being sold overpriced refreshments by a very polite chap, I settled in for the journey - thankfully alone after my irritating selection of accidental companions so far today. Hadn't really thought through what to do with the several hours in London however - beyond visiting the newly aligned and extended Blackfriars. A weekend closure put paid to this, and rather than spending hours at the station on arriving at Liverpool Street I opted to wander over to Shoreditch High Street. This took me on a familiar winter journey along Brick Lane, full of more annoying people today though. Felt like screaming at the top of my lungs that "Excuse me!" was a genuine request to get by, not some sort of post-modern quip! On the way, passed the curious "I Goat" sculpture by Kenny Hunter, atop packing crates symbolising the recurring immigration into the area. From Shoreditch, took the East London Line south to Crystal Palace. Steps retraced, but good to see the line busy as they light started to fade from the sky. Work email kept my attention away from the rooftops though, and I surfaced just in time for the slog up the stairs at the terminus, and over to a Victoria-bound train.
After snaking through the twighlight, I arrived at a very dark but still busy Victoria with little in the way of a plan for the final leg to Paddington. Given the closures on the Circle and District, opted for a 436 bus from Grosvenor Gardens. Waited only a couple of minutes, and was soon heading past Buckingham Palace, up Park Lane and towards Paddington. Time for more coffee and people-watching before boarding the 19:00 home, with a bunch of rail staff heading home from the football crowded into the seats beside me. Today had been an odd, somewhat unsatisfying day where the general public had been pretty irritating and I'd found myself not relaxing as much as I should. However, it was good to be out - and I actually start to miss these winter trips once the railtour season starts!
Lost::MikeGTN
I've had a home on the web for more years than I care to remember, and a few kind souls persuade me it's worth persisting with keeping it updated. This current incarnation of the site is centred around the blog posts which began back in 1999 as 'the daylog' and continued through my travels and tribulations during the following years.
I don't get out and about nearly as much these days, but I do try to record significant events and trips for posterity. You may also have arrived here by following the trail to my former music blog Songs Heard On Fast Trains. That content is preserved here too.
