For some of us, the late ’80s/early ’90s were a sonic hinterland. Looking backwards was all the rage – be it in the form of Madchester’s blissed out psychedelic grooves or Seattle’s meat and potatoes superfuzz rock. The future had been put on hold. Or so it seemed.
‘In the Light Of Time – UK Post-Rock And Leftfield Pop 1992-1998’ does a splendid job of pulling together tracks by the bands who, far away from the madding crowds, turned their backs to the past and conspired to create new forms, to give us hope for the future.
These days, the term, “post-rock,” (unanimously credited to the music journalist/author, Simon Reynolds and first utilised in his album reviews of two of the bands included here, Insides and Bark Psychosis, respectively) is more commonly attributed to the quiet-loud-quiet-loud school of instrumental indie rock but the most thrilling alchemists of this new, “avant-pop” underground were those at the analogue/digital crossroads, combining the utensils of rock with evermore inventive production techniques.
The ’80s began with post-punk quickly giving way to synth domination, which in turn was superseded by guitar-centric indie rock/pop for much of the decade. But by 1991, the indie kids who’d spent the ’80s hammering out three chord thrashes, were suddenly smitten with Aphex Twin, Autechre and thinking, “How do I get this in there?” The arrival of affordable, though still somewhat clunky, home recording technology throughout the early ’90s, did much to answer that question.
Essex trio Ian Crause, Paul Willmott and Rob Whatley were, until 1992, making a brooding, claustrophobic dirge with guitars, drums and vocals. But Crause’s procurement of a Roland S-750 sampler and his reverence for the likes of Young Gods and Public Enemy, unlocked a Pandora’s box of sonic possibilities and within a year, their music had mutated into a dizzying mesh of bright New Order-esque pop and narrative sampling (see ‘Second Language’ on this compilation). Again, there is little to link them to the quiet-loud-quiet-loud school; Crause always maintained that Disco Inferno were a pop band, though their second album, ‘D.I. Go Pop,’ gloriously, perversely stretches that definition.
It’s worth noting that the “post-rock/leftfield pop” scene of the early ’90s was not only creatively vibrant but mutually supportive and supported. There was no shortage of promoters or venues, particularly in North London, where most of these bands regularly shared bills – The Sausage Machine (hosted in various pub backrooms), Upstairs At The Garage on Highbury Corner, The Falcon and Caernarvon Castle in Camden, The Bull & Gate in Kentish Town, the list goes on. Likewise, these gigs were often reviewed, invariably by the then-still respected Melody Maker magazine – their closest competitor, NME, more cautiously, favouring the safe, student-friendly, indie rock headliners of the time.
“That band weren’t just a possibility, a chance, a favourite. They were the only fucking soul band we had; the only fucking pop band we had. The only fucking band that mattered. The only band.” – Neil Kulkarni (Melody Maker/The Quietus) on Disco Inferno
The Wire magazine, of course, was an even more natural ally, running features and/or reviews of virtually every single one of the bands here in the first half of the decade. Fanzines like ABLAZE!, the nascent Space Age Bachelor and later, The Lime Lizard, gave generous coverage, as did BBC Radio 3’s ‘Mixing It.’ Most importantly, there was no shortage of record labels willing to take a punt on what could often be rather challenging music. Rough Trade, Too Pure, Ché, Wurlitzer Jukebox, Guernica, Earworm, Domino, Beggars Banquet may not have gotten rich overnight but for a moment in time, thankfully, they indulged these maverick pathfinders.
The thread running through most, but not quite all, of ‘In The Light Of Time,’ is the subversion of rules. In a 1994 interview with The Wire, Simon Reynolds summarises post-rock as “rock instrumentation for non-rock purposes” and in Jack Chuter’s excellent ‘Storm Static Sleep : A Pathway Through Post-Rock,’ book, elaborates that “In some ways, post-rock is just the continuation of impulses that crop up within the progressive era and then again with post-punk – leaving behind rock, taking on outside influences, responding to the cutting edge of black music, etherealizing to the point of losing the rhythmic pulse.” Disco Inferno filter their instruments through samplers, Earwig adopt Reichian phase and repetition to mesmeric effect, Spoonfed Hybrid utilise the mixing desk as an instrument, Hood deconstruct and circuit bend ‘(The) Weight,’ Laika conjure up a breathy, tropical plasticity. Main’s metallic, cyclic dub and Seefeel’s isolationist minimalism evoke dystopian landscapes; contrarily, Insides, Earwig’s later incarnation, oozes a breezy, delicious eroticism; Pram, the sound of a Czech toy shop magically coming to life in the middle of the night, all plastic trumpets and plonking pianolas. With few exceptions, conventional song structure is abandoned, loops serving as the foundation for unlimited playful indulgence.
Despite the embarrassment of riches on show here, Mogwai aside, many of these bands had pulled the plug on themselves by the mid-’90s. For all the good will from the more leftfield-supporting media, labels and fans, this is, after all, ostensibly niche music for the discerning ear and with few exceptions, sales for most of these artists would’ve been around the 1000 – 2000 bracket, often even less. It just wasn’t sustainable.
“For some bands, London was frequently reflected in their music, where you could almost feel the grime and noise of the capital clinging to the songs. Many lived together in squats or rundown flats. There was vast intellectual wealth, yet sometimes serious fiscal poverty. While it was a time of huge creativity, that on-the-edge-of-breakdown sense is still audible.” – Jeanette Leech (In The Time Of Light sleevenotes)
Sued by their manager (coincidentally, one they shared with Blur), broke and internally combusting, Disco Inferno split in 1995, shortly after a misguided tour support to a dimming Siouxsie & The Banshees. But the advent of “Britpop” really sounded the death knell for the majority of the bands here. Its popularity in the UK between 1994 and 1997 pretty much steamrolled everything that’d come before. Inspired, thought-provoking experimentalism was out, cocky, geeky, flag-waving kitsch-pop was in. Post-rock found itself book-ended by The Stone Roses and their former roadies, Oasis.
And so, kudos to Ace Records and particularly curator, Jorge Cortes, for unearthing and exhibiting this impressive time capsule of one of the 20th century’s most short-lived, underexposed but sonically fertile music scenes. There are almost too many highlights here and yet, so many more notable by their absence. I’m already looking forward to the inevitable sequel.
‘In the Light Of Time – UK Post-Rock And Leftfield Pop 1992-1998’ is out now and available from all good record stores or directly from Ace Records : https://acerecords.co.uk/in-the-light-of-time
FURTHER REFERENCE : Jack Chuter’s excellent book on the subject, ‘Storm Static Sleep : A Pathway Through Post-Rock’ (Function Books, 2015) would make the perfect companion to this record, as would Jeanette Leech’s ‘Fearless: The Making of Post-Rock: Post-rock 1987–2001’ (Jawbone, 2017). Neil Kulkarni quote taken from ‘A New 90s Part Two: Burning Up With Disco Inferno’ (The Quietus, 2011).
Arcane Delights 