Sach O only slept with your mother cuz she’s dirty.

Good writing and complex writing aren’t one and the same, a notion conveniently ignored by white indie rappers, college educated singer-songwriters and pretentious-ass music bloggers with little to say and the lingering desire to make their college education seem like it was worth the money. I came in the door, I said it before, I never let mic magnetize me no more, doesn’t even mean anything but Rakim GIVES it meaning. Same with I’m a millionaire, I’m a Young Money Milli-on-aire, tougher than Nigerian hair for that matter. Music thrives on economy and often its strength is expressing so much with so little. With that in mind, I give you one of my favorite album openings of all time.

Son. I’m thirty.

I only slept with your mother cuz she’s dirty.

See that? Two bars and a short story’s worth of details. A father and son have a heart to heart, the dad breaks down and admits that the kid’s an accident and the only reason he even exists is that his mom was an easy lay. In two bars! And it only sounds better in the context of the Happy Mondays’ masterpiece, Pills N Thrills and Bellyaches. While the Mondays are unfairly remembered as drug casualty follow-ups to New Order as depicted in the film 24 Hour Party People, there was much more to the group than pills, Martin Hannett and Paul Oakenfold. Of course, they benefited from superb production (Oakenfield’s beats on this album recall another Paul: Prince Paul) but the brothers Ryder had bluesy funk and lyrics to spare and are so sorely underrated by a generation that all-out ripped off the post-punk that inspired the Mondays that you’d think they’d been blacklisted by some broody tastemakers hell bent on sucking the fun out of music.

It’s probably because they’re not nerds. While we somehow expect rappers to emerge from the hood as prodigal poets untainted by the history and self-awareness that surrounds white music, a BAND is a whole other story. Post-punk is (falsely) remembered as a bunch of art-school kids rescuing punk from itself but these guys were more Sex Pistols than Gang of Four: they couldn’t play their instruments, ripped off the Beatles for the fuck of it and their fans were God damned candy ravers who danced to 80’s HOUSE.

(Psst: remember when indie kids hated house, before it got all minimal and boring? I do too.)

But give me Pills N Thrills N Bellyaches over Daydream Nation any day. Even if my inner music critic can’t sulk to it.

Sean Ryder’s sardonic screeds on love, life, family, sex, racism, customs officials, clothing and of course, drugs are half clever and half dumb, recalling the aforementioned Wayne in their nursery rhyme catchiness and layered meanings. 16 Men in an empty hotel comes off as a non-sequitur on its own but sung over a breezy accordion based sea-shanty (on a “rave album” no less) it’s something else entirely: the initial description of a bunch of misfits.

Who’d Have Thought That These People Would Be Fans of SHITDISCO?

Ryder uses the same trick on “Family” writing about his grandfather’s funeral using the bare bones language of an autistic kid but sparing none of the emotion, even the uncomfortable bits. “It’s only the old man that’s died so why’s everyone making a fuss?” he more-or-less says in tossed off couplets. “Bob’s your uncle” is a sex jam that would make Too $hort blush and stands as the album’s most dated moment but in an era of
“Lollipop” apologists it may as well be considered a highlight. Sean’s creepy Gainsbourg-like crooning may utterly fail at sexiness but at least it delivers a laugh-a-second. My personal favorite though? “Loose Fit”: a guaranteed personal anthem, a song that advocates baggy jeans, drug consumption, individualism and doing what you feel like in the face of trends and social pressure.

I can’t overemphasize how bad Nu-Rave sucked, so let’s try this whole revival thing again. Ignore the neon colors, the dopey haircuts and the druggy afterglow surrounding Madchester. Instead, take a look at the lyrics born out of tough times, the funky beats inspired by the best of 70’s funk and the positivity that finally killed off the dull artiness that had become British pop in the wake of the Smiths. There’s a lot to be explored there and in the post-Bush years, this is the kind of music we need to become a cultural touchstone for upcoming bands. I don’t need to sell you The Stone Roses (though if you’ve never heard their debut, shoot yourself in the foot, B) and the rest of the bands in the movement might be a bit much from the get-go (I’ve got a Paris Angels write-up in me down the line) but give this a listen and more importantly, give it to your kid brother that’s starting a band. If Sean Ryder can pump out a 5 star classic like this after hearing George Clinton and Ian Curtis, then the next generation just needs the right push.

Download:
MP3: Happy Mondays-”Kinky Afro”
MP3: Happy Mondays-”Loose Fit” 

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This entry was posted on Thursday, January 29th, 2009 at 12:58 am and is filed under Diggin' in the Digital Crates, Sach O. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.