Three weeks at number one from w/e 11th August 1984
The band’s principle songwriter was strangely defensive of the crappy machine, though, constantly trying to make out it was a unique selling point rather than a hinderance, and had worked out ways of making it sound more interesting; piling on the reverb and ladening it with odd effects. I stood playing bass alongside the shuffling, precise, echoing thump and hiss of this digital steam engine and felt increasingly that this wasn’t what being in a rhythm section should be about. The other two members had each other to trade off and lean on – I had a machine I hated which just winked at me with one red LED eye. I obviously whined about this far too much, as one day they just stopped telling me when rehearsals were taking place.
Further back still than that, in the early eighties in the Leeds area, all kinds of goth-adjacent groups were choosing not to put little cards in the windows of music shops asking for drummers (or if they did, nobody replied). Sisters Of Mercy, Rose Of Avalanche and Red Lorry Yellow Lorry all decided this was a distinctly unnecessary and hassle-filled pre-eighties extravagance, and March Violets followed suit. The cavernous thwack of the drum machine therefore became synonymous with a particular brand of northern Goth rock, the lamp black musings of those groups always being anchored in place forcibly by that precise, immovable and sometimes unshifting rhythm pattern.
I’ve made my personal experiences plain from the outset here not as an excuse to waffle on about my embarrassing teenage years in groups – I barely give a shit about them now, so I fail to see why you should - but as a clear conflict of interest. I always hated the bloody machines in a rock context and now when I hear one on a professional rock recording, I often can’t get past it. The problem with drum machines wedded to anything predominantly guitar based is you’re usually going to have to work very hard to make a limitation sound like a positive feature.
The March Violets started, according to member Tom Ashton, as a “reaction to all the synthy pap that was filling the Top 40. We wanted to dance but we were also still punk rockers at heart. And we couldn’t be bothered to audition drummers, so we did what we did!”
Besides the fact that I obviously inwardly sighed when I read the slagging of “synthy pap”, there’s nothing wrong with this ambition it’s just – well – how do you dance to this single? To be fair to the group, they are ambitious with the beatbox. It shifts and changes and approximates a live drummer fairly decently throughout, but you can still tell. There’s a measuredness to it, a pulse without frills or fills or spontaneity. The guitars chunter and clang alongside it, and the added feature of the shifting but fussy beat just makes “Walk Into The Sun” sound leaden, too heavy to cavort around the dancefloor to, but also too far away from Proper Rock to mosh or throw yourself around.
Let’s not completely lose focus, though. More than many of their compatriots, The Violets have a distinctive sound of their own here, pulling politely away from theatrical doominess and towards something that almost allows some daylight in. You can hear it in singer Rosie Garland’s careful and almost gleeful annunciations during the chorus, or in the almost celebratory burst of sax towards the end. “The sun machine is coming down/ and we’re going to have a party” they declare, ripping off Bowie but at least making their intentions pretty clear. “Walk Into The Sun” makes it sound as if the kids in black were having a whale of a time after all.
There’s a lo-fi mend-and-make-do aspect to the production which makes it feel like less of an anthem than it truly wants to be, but there are moments when their ambition cuts through, and its three week spell at the top of the NME indie chart indicates how well it communicated itself despite my reservations. “Walk Into The Sun” placed them temporarily alongside the Sisters of Mercy as leaders of the movement.
That DIY approach may have created issues for the group in the long-term, however. They continued to release singles on their own label until 1986, but for financial (or possibly other) reasons never pulled together a studio album, and as such had no 45 minute “statement” to be dissected by music critics as an example of “prime goth rock” decades down the line. The band eventually reformed in 2010 and have been releasing albums since, but there’s a reason they seldom seem to be mentioned in the same breath as potentially less important groups from the same city and scene. There are probably even a few readers looking at this now, noting the band’s stay at the top of the indie charts, and scratching their heads about why they know so little about them. At least now they have the chance to put that right, I suppose. “Walk Into The Sun” is an unapologetic anthem, and isn’t a terrible place to start if ice-cold decadence and knowing smiles are where you get your thrills. Oh, and not if you haven't spent months on end trying to play bass guitar alongside a drum machine, and still have some kind of revulsion to the idea decades down the line.
New Entries Elsewhere In The Charts
Week One
18. Float Up CP - Joy's Address (Rough Trade)
Peak position: 13
“Hello yo, yeah yeah!” giggles the voice at the start of this track, which is Neneh Cherry beaming in loud and clear, as charismatic and vivacious in 1984 as she was when her solo career finally took shape in 1988.
Float Up CP were a short-lived group who were moulded from the remains of Rip Rig and Panic, essentially turning into a final hurrah for the remaining members who wanted to give their ideas one final push before going home. “Joy’s Address” is sprightly and slightly messy, reggae lilts meshing with jazzy flourishes, but somehow the whole thing gels.
22. Eartha Kitt - I Love Men (Record Shack)
Peak position: 22
Growling, purring and almost frightening bit of Hi-NRG from Kitt, who sounds at moments as if she’s going to molest you through the speakers. “I Love Men” failed to build on the moderate mainstream success of 1983’s comeback single “Where Is My Man”, but got her heard by just as many in clubs around Europe and beyond.
26. Marc Riley with the Creepers - Pollystiffs (In Tape)
Peak position: 23
28. Indians in Moscow - Jack Pelter and His Sex-Change Chicken (Kennick)
Peak position: 28
The Indians return with more gimmicky quirk-pop, from attention seeking title to twittery contents. “Jack Pelter” is a potential alternative dancefloor smash buried beneath more whackiness than it can perhaps bear, but there are moments when it shows that the group could potentially jettison the jokiness and get real – the longer the track goes on for, the more they truly begin to soar.
Week Two
18. The Cult - Go West (Situation 2)
Peak position: 6
The Cult swiftly return with a rocking critique of the American dream, though ironically with every fresh single they sound closer to smashing that Transatlantic divide themselves. “Go West” has more swagger about it than their previous releases, playing to the gallery unapologetically, and was unlucky not to climb to the top of the indie chart.
21. Robert Wyatt - Work In Progress EP (Rough Trade)
Peak position: 3
The lead track here is a fragile and threadbare but adventurous take on Peter Gabriel’s “Biko”, shaming a lot of the rest of the indie chart by taking a lo-fi approach but still stretching all the available possibilities with beautiful grace. Its resemblance to some of the Teardrop Explodes unreleased demos is surely a coincidence, and more likely proves that Wyatt held the keys to those kinds of ideas right from the off.
23. Actifed - Crucifiction (Jungle)
Peak position: 23
24. Death In June - The Calling (NER)
Peak position: 23
25. 1919 - Earth Song (Abstract)
Peak position: 24
28. The Very Things – The Bushes Scream While My Daddy Prunes (Reflex)
Peak position: 28
Absolutely staggering to see a track which has almost become a viral sensation settling for the number 28 position in the indie chart of its time. The video for “The Bushes Scream” is perhaps one of the finest promos of the eighties indie charts, within which the group spend five minutes in a film noir world that’s such a detailed, loving parody that it feels like a whole half-hour television special. Even Ken Russell had to express his admiration of it.
What of the song itself, though? It’s perhaps not quite as spectacular, but it’s no less strange. The Shend’s vocals are surely the first since the “Monster Mash” to owe a debt to Boris Karloff, but this time they’re married to post punk off-beats, discordant riffs, and threatening melodies. This is no more a novelty track than Bauhaus’ “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” (so in other words, whether that’s true or not really depends on your point of view).
The Very Things would continue to worry baffled listeners until 1987, never quite going overground, but leaving a heavy stain on the brains of young viewers and listeners who happened to chance upon them.
As for the video’s director, Gavin Taylor would later go on to direct U2’s concert film “Live At Red Rocks”, and “Queen at Wembley”. From little acorns do big oak trees grow.
Week Three
28. Jasmine Minks - Where The Traffic Goes (Creation)
Peak position: 28
In which the Jasmines sound frighteningly close to some sixties mod group who managed to get themselves a few hours of time in R.G. Jones’ recording studio in Morden – home of many a snappy and jagged freakbeat demo in that decade.
The group would soon be usurped by other developments at Creation, but “Where The Traffic Goes” hails from a time where their old-school paisley pop dominated the roster, and is a reminder that there’s an alternate timeline where the label could have become a cottage industry for retro kids who just wanted pop music to reset itself back to 1966 values.
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Number Ones In The Official Charts
Frankie Goes To Hollywood - "Two Tribes" (ZTT)
George Michael - "Careless Whisper" (Epic)
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