59b. The Smiths - Shakespeares Sister/ 60b. Cocteau Twins - Aikea Guinea (EP)

 

"Shakespeare's Sister" returns to the top for one further week on w/e 20th April 1985

The "Aikea-Guinea" EP returns for a further 3 weeks on w/e 27th April 1985

Here we are again, with an absurd situation in the 1985 indie charts where The Smiths rebound for a single week and the Cocteau Twins grab the mantle back for three more. Who were the winners here? Not us, that's for sure, as it means we have no fresh meat to pop on the NME Indie Chart barbecue. Let's celebrate the other contenders lower down the charts instead.

Week One

14. Smiley Culture - Cockney Translation (Fashion)

Peak position: 11

"Cockney Translation" had originally been issued in 1984 and distributed by Polydor, but despite picking up huge appreciation among British reggae listeners, the label weren't impressed enough to release his next single "Police Officer", which was his only proper mainstream hit. They did, though, eventually have him back again for future releases in 1986, but couldn't be bothered to re-issue "Cockney Translation" themselves, hence its appearance here on the Fashion label in the indie listings. Confused? Oh, so the bloody hell am I. 

In short, though, it's a great record. Smiley does his bit for urban relations by explaining Cockney slang and culture to his listeners, while simultaneously explaining British-Jamaican slang. It's witty and devious but also incredibly danceable, pounding away faster and with greater intent the more rapid-fire and intense Smiley gets. You can hear people doing almost identical things at spoken word events to this day; this was some sharply radical stuff by 1984 standards.

25. Andi Sex Gang - Ida-Ho (Illuminated)

Peak position: 25

28. T.Rex - Megarex​ (Marc on Wax)

Peak position: 3

By 1985 the "classic rock and pop" medley had largely been consigned to the cultural dustbin, but that didn't stop record labels with compilations and reissues to flog from leaning on it as a promotional device. The Sweet have already disgraced the indie charts being massacred in this way, now it's Bolan's turn - and the outcome is no less graceless, frankly. 

Leading on a hopelessly weak foot by making Bolan stutter at least six times too many on "Truck On (Tyke)" the rest of the best of his ouevre is also treated to the same basic DJ treatment. At its worst, this sounds more like the stylus getting stuck or skipping across a compilation LP than involving anything as complex as mash-ups or beat matching. Grim. 

29. Sonic Youth with Lydia Lunch - Death Valley '69 (Blast First)

Peak position: 29

Sonic Youth had obviously been creeping around the underground scene for a few years by this point, but this was their debut single and has established itself as a cult classic since. Teaming the group up with the terminally adolescent rebel Lydia Lunch, "Death Valley" shows the sorry excuses for mid-eighties British punk bands how to really approach things - it's immediately arresting, and simultaneously simple yet unpredictable. This would have passed as a credible and current single in 1993, never mind 1985.

At one critical moment, it seems to get locked into its own primitive drone for an uncomfortably long time, before it unravels itself from the sticky web and launches itself skybound again like a huge dirty great fly. This remains a seriously impressive record.

30. The Truth - Playground (Illegal)

Peak position: 30

The Truth were one of those strange early eighties major label signed acts who felt neither muckling nor mickling, with one foot in the mod revival, another in New Wave, then some occasional spare prop legs in areas such as classic rock and Motown, all while keeping one eye on the Sunday pop parade. 

The approach gifted them two minor Top 40 hits, "Confusion (Hits Us Everytime)" and "Step In The Right Direction", the latter of which sounded like something Paul Weller might have rubber stamped for his fledgling Respond label. After that promising start, though, the launchpad was proven to be unstable, and no further hits were forthcoming. They found themselves booted off WEA and picked up by Miles Copeland's Illegal label for this single, which pushes the guitars up in the mix and makes them sound like angrier young men, but apart from that doesn't really do enough to restore their status.

They would later get some attention in the USA for their 1987 single "Weapons of Love" which managed an impressive Number 65 on the Billboard charts (no joke - that's great going for a band who were in danger of being totally forgotten) but their cultural legacy has been perhaps undeservedly muted (though the less said about their 1989 cover of "God Gave Rock and Roll To You" the better).

Week Two

17. Red Guitars - Be With Me (One Way)

Peak position: 4

The group's final release before naffing off to sign to Virgin, "Be With Me" is a strangely gentle farewell to the indie sector, all soulful crooning, atmospheric instrumentation, tasteful solos, and not a great deal of the adventure that was apparent in the band's previous singles. They were unquestionably at their best when fewer pairs of eyes were on them; "Be With Me" feels like a case of a group deciding they had to show their radio-friendly side for the sake of getting the rent paid. I'm willing to excuse musicians for that in my weary old age, having watched many of my friends dealing with the harsher economic realities of life, but that doesn't mean I don't still feel disappointed when it happens. 

19. The X-Men – Spiral Girl (Creation)

Peak position: 18

The X-Men's final release for Creation before Alan McGee had a big purge of the label's roster and left them turfed out on to the cruel streets of Hackney. They never did release another new record. Oddly, this is also a rare example of an indie chart record which doesn't seem to have made its way on to the usual streaming channels either, and has no presence on YouTube. If anyone can help with that, I'd be grateful.

32. Aztec Camera - Oblivious (Rough Trade)

Four weeks at number one from w/e 19th February 1983

Winter 1983 for me was a period of upheaval. The health of my grandfather had worsened, and a family decision was made to move out of suburban East London and deeper into Essex, to a house large enough to take everyone in. Moving to a new town meant I had to go to a new school, (struggle to) make new friends, and have a new guitar teacher, two traffic jam ridden miles from where we now lived. In my memories of those trips, it’s dark and raining and the orange streetlights created neon streaks through the grime on the windows of my Dad’s Datsun.

“Now remember,” he said on the way to the teacher’s house, “this is just a try-out. If you don’t get on with him or don’t like him, we can find you another”.

On the second or maybe third occasion, I saw he had a copy of XTC’s “English Settlement” propped up against his stereo and was quietly, shyly flabbergasted, but felt too nervous to mention it. None of my friends or family liked XTC. They were my own little obsession everyone was trying to coax me away from, for reasons of their own. My friends deemed them to be ugly old bastards. My parents felt they were “untalented New Wave rubbish, he can’t even sing”, whereas they were “punk rock” according to my brothers. My new guitar teacher had obviously found his way to them, though - and I decided that if he taught me badly (though he never did) or talked crap (which he sometimes did) he would always be forgiven as one of the enlightened ones, and I would stick with him.

A couple of weeks later he gently asked me what I was listening to at home and who my favourite bands were. I named XTC and he looked taken aback. “Well, they’re brilliant, but I wasn’t expecting that answer!” he replied. “Tell you what, if you want to listen to things which will help you think about your own work on the guitar, there’s someone else you might also be interested in...”

(I feared the worst at this point. Guitar teachers were always recommending Gordon Giltrap and Sky to me, usually with the justification “They’re in the pop charts and they’ll teach you a thing or two”. As if  a ten-year old was going to use their limited pocket money to buy a bloody Gordon Giltrap album.)

“Roddy Frame,” my teacher continued. “He’s got a band called Aztec Camera. He’s very young but he’s really good on the guitar. Great songwriter too”.

Aztec Camera were already familiar to me through occasional brief mentions in the music magazines, but I hadn’t heard any of their work. I made a mental note to turn up the radio when they next came on. I would have a long wait ahead, but “Oblivious” burst on to the airwaves on its re-release that autumn, and I taped it on to my cheap little silver radio-cassette player so I could listen to it again. 

I liked it a lot, but given my age, I had very limited financial means and even going out to buy a single from the local Woolworths required planning and forethought. For whatever reason, “Oblivious” didn’t make the cut, and nor did the album it came from, “High Land Hard Rain”. I could hear enough of what I wanted from it – tricksiness which was neither showy nor pretentious, a gorgeous hook in the chorus, haunting backing vocals, lots of ideas and movement – without loving it enough to commit any money from the piggy bank. 

Listening to “Oblivious” again, trying to approach it with fresh ears, I’m struck for the first time by the fact that my teacher’s suggestion was probably an attempt to be helpful, to try to find something similar that might be in roughly the same wheelhouse as “English Settlement”. The samba rhythm topped off with a busy acoustic guitar, zinging and zipping around, isn’t a million miles off an arrangement Partridge and Moulding might have tried for that album – unlike XTC, though, this song has sprung from the bones of a very young, optimistic man on the brink of better things, rather than a tired and weary songwriter with growing personal issues.

“Oblivious” is an unashamed bash at a pop hit on the songwriter’s own terms. It’s not simple, it’s not necessarily straightforward, and at its heart is arguably a bit too pleased with itself, but the restlessness, the hooks, the drive are so powerful and bright that they dazzle the listener enough to trojan horse the smart alec elements in. Even the acoustic guitar solo in the middle is almost too sunny, too happy with itself to sound accomplished, in the way that upbeat music often causes us to overlook any complexity. Frame finger picks one note for ages before flying off anywhere ambitious on the fretboard, almost taunting the listener not to expect any more effort.