The early albums of Gorky's Zygotic Mynci, and teenage summers past

I can't imagine a band as weird (and young) and experimental and exotic sounding as Gorky's Zygotic Mynci existing now. This band caught me off guard, in the mid 1990s, aged 15, enough to rabidly scrawl the band's name on the back of my homework book: spelled GORKY'S ZYGOTIC MONKEY, of course.

From haunting, childish ballads about picnic hampers, to unabashed, anthemic Welsh language jollity, to what sounded like acid trips in the woods, this band soundtracked my transition from GCSE revision to starting sixth form, and they were incredible.

I only tracked down the band's Lucy's Hamper EP in the last five years or so, as hopes of a provincial, commercial music shop selling it at the time were vaingloriously shallow... Getting hold of the band's Ankst Records releases at the time was a real coup, being where I was. I was yet to approve of my parents' record collections, so all this 70s style acid soaked folk mixed with xylophones, recorders, synths, and whatever else Gorky's felt like dabbling with literally blew my mind. Growing up when I did, I can't help but think that teens these days might not be quite so fazed (and dazed) in the here and now, what with all the accessible past. And yet, as I say, I can't imagine anyone dabbling like this, creating anything as imaginative as this. Times are so desperately drab. John Peel is surely running around kicking things over in disgust as he looks down...

The simplicity and stripped back experimentalism of Gorky's Zygotic Mynci's early album, Tatay, has the sound of a bunch of young pals delighting in home recording. They've learnt their instruments, but the elements of fun and exuberance are so clear. The colours, the textures created are alive and wild.

Tatay, followed by Bwyd Time, were albums full of ludicrous songs. The band dressed as wizards in a forest on one CD sleeve served to stoke the sense of psychedelic. Cartoons of mystical elves and recruits from Puff the Magic Dragon adorned sleeves too, and I drank it all in soberly but wide eyed and keen, in disbelief.

The intro to the album Bwyd Time, of the same name, probably serves as a perfectly bizarre starting point:

As I listen to the album again, two songs in particular stand out still, and are still evocative of a wonderful summer of 18 years ago:

Miss Trudy, a wacky, dramatic, funny song about violin lessons and smashed up violins that's also a tribute in pretty ballad form.

Oraphis Yn Delphie is a fantastic instrumental song that follows Miss Trudy on the album. It's a swirling haze of brass and playful, sweet humming, simply like nothing else. Certainly not like Menswear or Supergrass!!!

After those albums came the single Patio Song, which was one of the most brilliant, vivid, lilting, alluringly tuneful singles a young teenager could hear. Totally at odds with all the brash 'Britpop' that had come before. Casually breaking into the Welsh language was a natural part of the song, and I only sang along to it more fiercely, even if I hadn't a clue what was being sung. There was no internet about then, so I can be forgiven for just going along with things, open minded, unable to decipher. Whatever it was, it was fucking amazing! Jools Holland saying of the Welsh language singing: 'That in itself deserves a round of applause, ladies and gentlemen', must have sounded like so much insulting bullshit to the band as they appeared on his show. Though it did feel revolutionary to English speakers, and exciting to me as a teenager, it was the band's mother tongue and it was more about our attitudes and our acceptance than offering a patronising 'Well done'!

Diamond Dew as a single was equally heartstopping, then I bought Young Girls and Happy Endings with its super pop catchiness, which was on the radio often. I helped both get into the top 50 of the charts.

The band delighted me so much, they were honestly a hugely pivotal part of why I chose to go and study at a university in Wales for a time.

I can't boast to have learned Welsh, but I do still carry massive amounts of fondness for Gorky's, and they remain truly creatively great.

Jack

Feel like remembering some of the great orchestral indie pop bands of the mid and late 90s.

I rediscovered Animals That Swim not so long ago, as written about here. Whipping Boy have been a constant favourite. Now I'm recalling the band Jack. I collected a couple of singles/EPs over the years, and certain songs made it onto compilation tapes often. There are various distinctive song titles I recall, and hearing more of their songs on Youtube, I'm easily transported back to my teenage bedroom, half expecting Steve Lamacq to chirp in with a back announcement on the radio...

What a gloriously sophisticated sounding, lyrical, romantic lot Jack produced. There was an otherworldliness to their songs, hearing them as a teen who was yet to start going out... picturing Parisian style cafes of London, suave, bookish people, dimly lit clubs playing debonair songs of the 60s, dramatic romances, that sort of stuff...

Looking back, it's pretty criminal that it was the likes of Rialto that were having hits and primetime TV championing. Passable pop rather than seriously good songwriting... standing up as a 

a bit indie boyband and lightweight in comparison. Ditto with the likes of My Life Story having repeat comeback concerts and reminisces in recent years... I quite liked them, but they were nothing like as soaring, mature, dreamy, literary. Introspection mixed with unaffected grandeur, Jack were one of those perfect indie bands.

The Pop Guns, at The Borderline, 22nd November, 2014

The buoyant return of The Pop Guns was one of my favourite gigs in recent months. I was familiar with a couple of records and a flexi disc care of my boyfriend, who is a long time fan. Waiting for The Winter was the song I knew best: melancholy in sentiment yet soaringly bright, hopeful pop. I was looking forward to seeing the band who'd hit their stride in one of my cherished periods for indie (the start of the 90s).

I was also thrilled to take the chance to get over to the Borderline off the Charing Cross Road in London - one of very few gig venues remaining in that once thriving area. We've just lost the 12 Bar Club on Denmark Street, and we were forced to say goodbye to the once dependable, pivotal Astoria and LA2, as well as the fantastic basement bar Metro (indie club extraordinaire + spotlight for new bands). The Borderline was a great choice for gathering the band's original fans, as well as new ones, in an atmosphere akin to a student union circa the 90s. Big 80s pop hits played as we waited, mixed in with new wave bands like The Go Gos, and the Buzzcocks.

As soon as Wendy Pickles and band stepped on stage, their sense of jubilance to be playing together for a crowd could be warmly felt. If memory serves, it was City Lights, the opener to their newest album that dazzled us first. Bold, strident, twinkling and tuneful, it felt like a well-worn favourite. Lovejunky had a similar effect, so immediately catchy, kinetic and smoothly sung. It's a song worthy of indie club playlisting and delighted dancing.

Wendy's singing was complemented with brilliant effect by Kate Mander - 60s girl band backing style, or lending strength with joint lead. This had resonance with me, as this sort of female-led, jaunty, jangy, guitar pop is all too rare in current times, and we need more. There simply hasn't arrived a new female indie singer who is equivalent to Wendy Pickles or, say, Amelia Fletcher, another longstanding indie great. At times, I found it hard not to be reminded of the great Amelia Fletcher. Wendy too has the knack of singing with a full, genuine smile, which only makes the Pop Guns' songs seem all the more gleeful, giddy, model pop, much like Amelia's many ace bands over the years, Tender Trap/Marine Research/Heavenly/Talulah Gosh.

Waiting for the Winter was received with appreciative ebullience by the audience. Pleasant heckles about 80s and 90s Pop Gun gig memories came along with other older songs.

I ought to add that the Pop Guns are not typically sensitive, gentle, jangly indie pop -there is a real sense of punk influence at work, which thrives when played live. Guitars are as threshing, thrashing as the Buzzcocks. At times, The Pop Guns are more akin to the heavier moments of The Wedding Present than anything from Sarah Records.

But, given there is also the reminiscence of Amelia Fletcher and jangly indie pop, it did come as a huge surprise to witness an encore that night of Wendy Morgan expertly rapping (!) A Tribe Called Quest's hot song, Can I Kick It....! She sang an unfaltering version of the 90s novelty hip hop song. It was the perfect bit of pre-Christmas fun. It turns out the band recorded it as a B-Side years ago.

I don't bother much with thinking about albums of the year type lists, but Pop Fiction by Pop Guns was a highlight of 2014. It lends memories of that perfect indie pop from the early 1990s, but also sounds very now, and is very essential, emotional, confident pop. The charcoal drawn album cover also gives smitten delight:

New interim issue - December

December's issue was slightly delayed as my local library has printing problems!

But here it is, ready to be photocopied up. Gig reviews therein include Seamonsters recently performed by The Wedding Present (in fact, a David Gedge interview will follow in issue #2 of the main fanzine, which is still coming along, I promise!).

 

I have also included a little tribute to two musicians who inspire me constantly and greatly: Wiz from Mega City Four, and Joe Strummer from the Clash - both of whom passed on in the month of December -in 2006, and 2002, respectively.

 

 

I'm having a Mega City Four vinyl singles session as I make fanzines and type this evening. I seem to realise more and more just how preciously honest and heartfelt Wiz's lyrics are, and that it's a rare talent to be able to compose such unadorned lyrics yet be so frank and direct and moving and true. I am working on an article about Mega City Four for issue #2 of The All Thrills No Frills Music Bill. In tribute to Joe Strummer, I have similar writing plans, and will soon get together with a friend for a day of positive action too.

 

Please email if interested in the new 'zine, though I shall be distributing this particular free mini issue round and about, after tomorrow....

 

Sunny pop

Make it feel like a pretty summer's day on holiday on this freezing cold November night! -

I've just been enjoying bopping to this whilst watching fireworks from my window!

I still miss Kenickie, and there's still not been anyone quite like them.