Showing posts with label 1985. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1985. Show all posts

Saturday, December 12, 2020

Cocteau Twins - Lullabies to Violaine, Volume 1 (2005)

Discovering Cocteau Twins is like finding a massive treasure chest that’s barely hidden in the woods, and there’s always more there. I’ve still never found another band that quite matches their bizarre beauty and raw emotive force (and I’ve tried!). The combination of Elizabeth Fraser’s expressive voice and unusual delivery with Robin Guthrie and Simon Raymonde’s otherworldly instrumentation is magical. The fact that they consistently relied on drum machines takes nothing away from the total wonder of their sound. It took me years to fully appreciate them, but they’ve become one of my absolute favorites.


Cocteau Twins came from an era where EPs were an important format, and they made full use of them. In fact, much of their best music can only be found on them. Thankfully, in 2005 they released Lullabies to Violaine, a collection of all of their EPs and singles spread over four CDs. The first volume covers the 80s, which begins with their early recordings with founding bassist Will Heggie and continues through their prime years up to the release of their best album, Heaven or Las Vegas (1990). In some ways, these two discs are like a greatest hits compilation. They roughly follow the progression of the albums, but that breaks down around 1986. Here I will review this first volume and the EPs it contains.


Lullabies was the band’s first EP, released just after their debut album Garlands in October 1982. Like the album, the EP is very gothy and post-punk and sounds quite indebted to Siouxsie & the Banshees or The Cure from the same era. The music is aggressive and energetic, but also simpler than what would follow. Heggie’s heavily chorused bass and Guthrie’s spidery guitar form the basis for Fraser to exorcise her demons over. Her lyrics are mostly understandable, but sound dark and esoteric. It’s not the most engaging or comforting listen. “Feathers-Oars-Blades” is a strong and upbeat opener, but the rest doesn’t match it.


Peppermint Pig came in March 1983 and continued the same thread as the first two releases. It was the last release with Heggie but their first to feature prominent keyboards. Otherwise it isn’t particularly compelling, and it sounds flatter and less well-developed than their earlier and later recordings. There’s more space, but in an unwelcome, off-putting way. All three tracks are very similar. The rare involvement of an outside producer (Alan Rankine) is telling and was obviously a mistake. The compilation has the edited 7" version of the title track, but the 12" just features a longer intro with more keyboards and distorted guitar, so not much is missing.


Sunburst and Snowblind, released in November 1983, followed right after Head over Heels and is something of an extension of it. They both share “Sugar Hiccup”, the first truly awesome Cocteau Twins song. Sunburst is a huge leap over their previous work, and it’s even better than Head over Heels. They finally started to find their stride despite (or perhaps because of?) the loss of Heggie. Fraser’s vocals became more oblique and more about mood and texture than specific words. Guthrie explored more keyboards and a more ethereal, brighter, and more expansive sound removed from their gothy roots. From this point on, the meaning of their songs became less about the content of the lyrics and more about the emotions that sweep you along with the music. “Sugar Hiccup” isn’t exactly upbeat, but it’s grand and majestic. The choral sound at the end is just lovely. “From the Flagstones” is slower but still comes across as big and dramatic, like walking along the ramparts of a castle. It too features the comforting choral synths, but brings back the heavy chorus on the bass. “Hithero” and “Because of Whirl-Jack” are both driving but tense, and they aren’t quite at the same level. They seem caught between the old and new styles.


The Spangle Maker from April 1984 was the band’s first release with Simon Raymonde on bass. It’s a resounding success and all three tracks are great. “The Spangle Maker” features impressive feedback squalls over what sounds like a huge open landscape. It’s like a slowly brewing storm with strong winds in a desert canyon. Then it finally bursts into a huge final section with choral effects and big keyboards. “Pearly-Dewdrops’ Drops” is more immediate and strident from the start. It’s full of great layered vocal parts, delightful little synth bells, and lots of little guitar effect touches. It’s pure dream pop bliss, and it’s no surprise that it was their biggest single. The compilation features a unique mix, but it’s the best version. The 7" version is similar but shorter, and although the 12" version starts with an extra twinkly section, the mix is less full and not quite as good. “Pepper-Tree” is the band’s first truly bizarre track. Fraser’s vocals are impressively strange; she sounds like an enchanted woodland fairy. The song is like wandering through a ghostly rainforest cave. It’s spooky, mysterious, and fairly removed from pop music, but the experimentation and atmosphere pay off.


1985 was Cocteau Twins’ first year without an album, but they still managed to release three EPs, all of which reveal the band at the height of their powers. Aikea-Guinea came first in March, and it’s practically perfect from start to finish. The title track is again bright, grand, otherworldly, uplifting, and full of layers and beautiful but totally incomprehensible spirals of vocals. It sounds like brilliant birds in flight in the bright springtime sun. The compilation version is a unique mix, but the only difference from the original is that it jumps in cold instead of fading in. “Kookaburra” is similar and very upbeat, but with more shadowy sections. It sounds like a rushing horseride through the fields and then into the woods. The keyboards in particular remind me of The Cure from the same era. “Quisquose” starts darker, with anguished vocals and colossal echo on the keyboard parts, but then it shifts into a brighter section with superb crystalline guitar delay. It’s like a battle between light and darkness or an intense internal conflict. “Rococo” starts minimal, hesitant, distant, and somewhat peaceful, like the calm before a storm or a battle, then breaks into a much bigger, louder, heavier, aggressive section. It’s deceptive, but the sense of space is excellent. It’s also a rare instrumental.


Tiny Dynamine came next in November 1985. It’s full of fantastic sounds and effectively conveyed emotions without relying on lexical content, even if it doesn’t quite match the mind-blowing excitement of the previous two EPs. “Pink Orange Red” starts slow, spacey, and minimal and then expands beautifully with a hint of darkness and regret, but of course the lyrics are the names of butterflies or something. It’s full of towers of delayed guitar and sounds like the twists and turns of some ancient epic. “Ribbed and Veined”, another lush instrumental, has more of the great crystalline dripping guitar parts. It sounds like a rainforest atmosphere, and perhaps there’s a temple or some forgotten structure hidden within where the electronic piano sound comes in. “Plain Tiger” isn’t quite as standout but still has an intriguing blend of light and dark atmospheres. The highlight is the great vocal parts. The mood is conflicted: the first part is tense, the second is anguished, and it’s not until the end that it switches nicely into a more open (and rare) guitar pseudo-solo. It feels like the coming of a prophet or a good omen. “Sultitan Itan” is a rarer example of starting bright and then getting darker; it starts simple and pretty, full of soft bass and guitars, but switches to more intense, dramatic sections.


Echoes in a Shallow Bay, recorded at the same time as Tiny Dynamine and released just a couple weeks after it, is more experimental, less pop, and overall somewhat darker. It’s not as purely awe-inspiring, but it’s still good. “Great Spangled Fritillary” starts weird and uncomfortable, like some mysterious, dark, and cloudy alien planet. It picks up a bit, as if you’ve encountered a strange artifact or an unexpected inhabitant, and it’s full of intriguing sounds. “Melonella” is a dramatic recital of moth names, which is amusingly aggressive and intense for such absurd lyrics! It jumps right in, like preparations or ritual chanting before a battle or escape. Other parts calm down a bit, as if life returns to normal and there is space to find some beauty in the cracks. “Pale Clouded White” is another faster-paced but somewhat darker song. It has a full sound with distant guitar squalls, pounding keyboards and drums, and acoustic guitar strums and choral synth in the choruses. It sounds like warning sirens and high alert, again like running hastily from some threat. “Eggs and Their Shells” is also full of strange and awesome sounds, like wind rushing by towering buildings shining in the sun in a vast, lonesome expanse. It’s not quite as dramatic, though, and doesn’t move like most of the others.


Love’s Easy Tears, from October 1986, is a distinct break between two more subdued and almost ambient albums (Victorialand and The Moon and the Melodies with Harold Budd). It’s closer to Treasure or especially Blue Bell Knoll. They apparently saved all the dramatic, radiant, and upbeat songs that they had for this EP, and the result is flawless. The title track, beautiful and dramatic, is one of their absolute best. Incredible vocals and lush guitars just keep raining down. “Those Eyes, That Mouth” is also fairly upbeat and shimmering, but a bit more driving. It has less variation, but pulses prettily and brightly with chiming guitars and some strange seagull effects. “Sigh’s Smell of Farewell” is mellower and softer, again with great vocal layers. It’s subtler and less overwhelming but still shimmering and clear, and it expands into something bigger halfway through with nice phasing and a grand expanse. “Orange Appled” might be my favorite of them all. It starts strident and bold with great keyboards and expands with bells and vocal layers. It reminds me of a shining palatial metropolis. The bridge switches into an awesome alternate swirling mode, like riding a train through a tunnel in a mountain.


From then on, the frequency of releases took a sharp downturn. The last release on the compilation is the "Iceblink Luck" single from August 1990. The title track is a slightly edited version of the track from the supreme Heaven or Las Vegas. It’s poppy and accessible, and the words are even mostly understandable as was common for that phase. It has the best production values of their career and sounds incredibly detailed. “Mizake the Mizan” is similarly well-produced but is less dramatic and upbeat. It’s conspicuously inconspicuous. “Watchlar” is an unusually electronic track, but it also just kind of carries on without ever really picking up. The single itself is great but the b-sides aren’t really notable; it’s their first release with tracks that feel like just b-sides.

That’s the end of the compilation; unfortunately it starts and ends on lesser notes, but the jungles within are where the real treasure is. However, there were just a few additional tracks from the era that never made it to an album or an EP, and most of them were collected on an extra disc of the Cocteau Twins Singles Collection from 1991. Unfortunately, all four of the tracks on it are rather inessential. “Dials”, the b-side of the "Heaven or Las Vegas" single, and “The High Monkey-Monk”, from a Melody Maker compilation in 1990, both feature great production, but are fairly sparse and open. They sound like second-rate b-sides. “Crushed”, from the Lonely Is an Eyesore compilation in 1987, fits in with Love’s Easy Tears or Blue Bell Knoll, but doesn’t quite match either. It’s the best of the bonus disc, but merely a chill, pleasant stroll. The instrumental version of “Oomingmak” is airy and pretty but offers nothing over the original from Victorialand.

The last stray track is “Millimillenary”, originally from the NME Department of Enjoyment cassette in 1984, but also available on The Pink Opaque best-of in 1986. It’s as strong as the best of Treasure or maybe even The Spangle Maker. It’s less experimental and unusually straightforward and classic pop oriented in its arrangement and structure, but it completely works. It also reminds me of contemporaneous output from The Cure.

Cocteau Twins released some incredible albums in their day, but their run of EPs from Sunburst and Snowblind through Love’s Easy Tears gives even Heaven or Las Vegas a run for its money. This collection is unbeatable in terms of the variety of sounds, mood, and atmospheres. After going on hiatus for a couple years after that album and the ground covered by this compilation, they returned to release another series of EPs and singles (compiled on the second volume of Lullabies to Violaine) alongside two more albums (all compiled on the Treasure Hiding compilation), but they never again quite reached these heights. At least we have this wonderful collection that nicely assembles their finest glories.

Scores:
Lullabies to Violaine, Volume 1: A
Lullabies EP: B-
Peppermint Pig EP: C-
Sunburst and Snowblind EP: B+
The Spangle Maker EP: A+
Aikea-Guinea EP: A+
Tiny Dynamine EP: A-
Echoes in a Shallow Bay EP: B
Love’s Easy Tears EP: A+
"Iceblink Luck" single: B-
Cocteau Twins Singles Collection Disc 10: C
“Millimillenary”: A-

Sunday, March 29, 2020

A Few Thoughts on The Sound

I first encountered The Sound when I visited Drake Records in Köln just about ten years ago. The gracious owner offered my friend and I a drink and put on Jeopardy after he saw me browsing the New Wave section. I loved it, but for some reason ended up buying Wolfgang Riechmann’s Wunderbar instead. Just a few years later, Edsel Records released two box sets containing almost the entire recorded discography of the band, and I devoured both with glee. I’ve been meaning to write an article about the band and these reissues ever since. Now that I’m stuck inside during a pandemic, what better time to finally do it?

The roots of The Sound lie in The Outsiders, a (sorta) punk band fronted by Adrian Borland. After two albums and EP that already showed the band pushing on the boundaries of punk and independent record production, the band started to splinter. In the midst of a substantial lineup change, the band ended up changing their name to The Sound while recording a demo album that bridged the gap from The Outsiders to the eventual debut album of The Sound. This demo album, recorded in mid-1979, eventually saw release in 1999 as Propaganda. It’s still somewhat punky, but Bi Marshall’s clarinet and saxophone show the band grasping beyond the basic forms. Most of the lyrics are fairly basic critiques of British society and suburban life (not that there’s anything wrong with that!), but a few are particularly noteworthy, such as the staunchly anticapitalist “Cost of Living” and the prescient “Music Business”. Three songs would later be rerecorded for Jeopardy and one for the Physical World EP. The album is fairly raw, and although some critics (and members of the band) consider it the band’s “real” debut and even their strongest album, I think it lacks the sophistication, finesse, and subtlety of their best work. It’s still cool to hear them in transition, though, and apparently some of the tracks were recorded with Outsiders member and later lyrical contributor Adrian Janes on drums before he left for university.

After a brief diversion with the experimental Flesh As Property EP by Second Layer (featuring just Borland and bassist Graham Bailey), the first proper Sound release was the Physical World EP in late 1979. While the title track and “Coldbeat” (later rereleased as the 12" b-side of “Sense of Purpose” in 1981) are in the same vein as Propaganda but with slightly better production, the final track, “Unwritten Law”, already shows the band moving in a deeper, darker, and more dramatic direction. This early version is absent from the recent reissue box sets, and although it isn’t as strong as the rerecording on Jeopardy or any of the live versions, it’s still a thrill to hear a primitive version based more around guitars than the brooding keyboards that would define all later versions.

[The Physical World EP.]

The Sound then signed to Korova, best known as the home to Echo & the Bunnymen. The Sound would be forever damned to follow in their footsteps and live in their shadow, although the frequent comparisons were not entirely unfounded. At any rate, their debut album and first release on Korova was Jeopardy in 1980. It’s amazing to hear the quick leap they made from everything they made before then. Despite the hasty sessions and miniscule budget, the result is stunning. Although the production is certainly not at the level of the Bunnymen’s Crocodiles (which apparently consumed all of Korova’s budget, leaving The Sound in the lurch), the immediate energy of it plays to the band’s strengths. The album is raw and still just a touch punky, yet comes across sophisticated and fully formed. “Hour of Need” and the new version of “Unwritten Law” benefit from noticeably more nuanced production. Marshall’s icy keyboards shine, as do Bailey’s throbbing post-punk bass and Michael Dudley’s propulsive drumming. Other highlights are “Missiles”, an unapologetic critique of the military-industrial complex, and “I Can’t Escape Myself”, an incisive assessment of mental health struggles. It’s a great album.


After a tour supporting Echo & the Bunnymen, The Sound issued the Live Instinct EP, shortly before the Bunnymen’s Shine So Hard live EP. While Shine So Hard sounded great and showed the band progressing into their next phase, Live Instinct is something of a regression. It’s upbeat and intense, rough and unsubtle. It’s alright, but offers nothing particularly special. Korova then assigned The Sound the same producer for their second album that had handled the Bunnymen’s Heaven Up Here, Hugh Jones, and he clearly had his own ideas of how From the Lion’s Mouth (1981) should sound. The result is cleaner, more elaborate, and much more refined, but the quality of the songs doesn’t quite match Jeopardy. The grandiosity and stateliness of the production is a welcome change, but the songs suffer from a loss of energy and power. In the process of writing the album, Marshall was apparently kicked out of the band and replaced by Max Mayers, although Marshall was still credited with cowriting “Skeletons” and “The Fire”, the two songs that sound the oldest and rawest. She has claimed that she wrote parts for all of the songs, and that most of those parts ended up on the final album, but Meyers is credited with cowriting five of the songs. Regardless of the author, keyboards and synthesizers took a more prominent role. The highlight of the album remains the strident opener, “Winning”, a battle hymn for combating depression that foreshadows their later anthems. The album was followed by a non-album single, “Hot House”, another excellent upbeat song confronting some sort of struggle.


The Sound’s lack of commercial success began to grate on both the band and their label, and their third album, All Fall Down (1982), is spitefully uncommercial. It’s dark, challenging, and full of synthesizers and drum machines. It’s much more aggressive than From the Lion’s Mouth and perhaps closer to Jeopardy or Second Layer’s World of Rubber (1981). The album has a poor reputation, but most of its risks pay off. The boldest, most difficult track is the opener, “All Fall Down”, but plenty of accessible moments can be found thereafter. “Party of the Mind” is a great pseudo-pop song, and “Monument” is another superb anthem. “Where the Love Is” and “Calling the New Tune” are strong upbeat numbers as well. The album certainly isn’t perfect, but it grows on me more and more with each listen. “We Could Go Far” is a fascinating floating dream, and the irony that the label insisted on adding the bass drum is painful. The box set includes the original version without it, but ultimately both versions have their charms. The reissue also includes three other outtakes that presumably would’ve been b-sides if they’d released a single from the album. None of them are duds, and the best of the bunch, “Sorry”, was even played live.


After getting dropped by their label, The Sound somehow ended up getting paired with former Factory Records singer/songwriter Kevin Hewick for the This Cover Keeps Reality Unreal EP (1983). It sounds like The Sound fronted by Hewick, but Hewick isn’t as convincing as Borland, and it doesn’t hold together well. The first side is more conventional while the second is quite experimental. The final song, “Scapegoat”, was apparently recorded solo by Hewick a year before the rest. It’s a unique release but not particularly successful.


While on the search for a new label, the band recorded a set of demos that first saw release on the second of the Edsel box sets. Three of the tracks would end up on the Shock of Daylight EP, another three on Heads and Hearts, and the remaining four eventually appeared as b-sides as late as 1987. The recordings are a bit rough and it sounds like they suffered some tape generation loss, but the songs are generally fleshed out and well arranged. Most of the songs already sound fairly similar to their eventually released versions, albeit with simpler arrangements and production. Although the demos are an interesting artifact, nothing about them is better than the final versions, so there isn’t much going for it.

Eventually, The Sound ended up on Statik, and their first release with them was Shock of Daylight (1984), an EP that seems like a huge leap from their past. The six songs are all tuneful but deep, with strong lyrics that are generally less downbeat than before. “Counting the Days” is particularly amazing; it sounds like a love song, yet is ambiguous enough to prevent a simple reading. “Winter” is sparser and gloomier, but the other five songs are all anthemic and strong yet complex. The EP might be the most optimistic Sound release, and it’s cohesive and consistent without getting dull. It’s their finest moment.


This was followed by Heads and Hearts (1985), which continues some of the same sounds and themes and almost maintains the same level of quality. “Whirlpool” is a bit dark, but it’s a powerful description of the depressive energy that can suck you down. “Under You” and “Wildest Dreams” are similar, and they too manage to address mental health struggles without sounding trite. On the other hand, “Total Recall”, “Love Is Not a Ghost”, “One Thousand Reasons”, and “Temperature Drop” are grand and beautiful. “Restless Time” and “World As It Is” are slightly more aggressive and recall their earlier sound, which doesn’t work quite as well, while “Mining for Heart” is a throwback to All Fall Down with its minimalism and openness. The band were apparently disappointed with the album and its production, and while it does have a distinctly 80s sound, it’s only barely dated, and the many synthesizers are rarely over the top. The album doesn’t quite match Shock of Daylight, but it’s almost on par. The b-sides aren’t quite at the same level; most of them are heavy and negative. The box set also adds “Shimmer”, a previously unreleased outtake that tops all the b-sides and fits in right with the album tracks. One wonders how it was overlooked for so long!


To make up for their frustrations with Heads and Hearts and its supposed shortcomings, The Sound quickly released a live album, In the Hothouse (1985). Strangely, only four songs from Heads and Hearts made it to the album, but it also included “Prove Me Wrong”, which would end up on Thunder Up two years later in a similar form. The best track is a frenzied version of “Wildest Dreams” that benefits from a blazing solo, but otherwise the production is rather dry and it hardly even sounds like a live album. It’s not bad, but it sounds more like a best-of compilation than an exciting live album. It doesn’t show much that the studio albums didn’t already, and it sounds too tight and clean. There are plenty of bootlegs that are more dynamic and compelling.

After Statik also ended up screwing over the band, they got one more chance with Play It Again Sam, who released their final album, Thunder Up (1987). By this point, Borland’s mental health struggles were beginning to wear down the band, and the album shows it. The first side is almost too bright and direct, with a surprising abundance of optimism and a lack of subtlety, while the second side is darker and more mixed in tone. Although the band had gradually included more and more band compositions over time, this album is almost entirely written solely by Borland. “Barria Alta” is the lone band composition, and it is the most complex and detailed song on the album. “Iron Years” is a solid pop song, but it comes across just barely over the top. “I Give You Pain”, on the other hand, is a solid slow burner like they hadn’t done since “New Dark Age”. Despite that the band got to work with their preferred producer Nick Robbins, the album sounds fairly dated, mostly because of the cheesy synths. The band apparently prefer the production of Thunder Up over Heads and Hearts, but I think the latter is superior in sound and in songwriting. Thunder Up still has some great moments, but it has less depth and nuance.

[Thunder Up.]

The last item in the Edsel box sets is The BBC Recordings, originally a double-disc album released in 2004. The Read and Peel sessions are attached as bonus tracks to the albums they were promoting while the BBC Live in Concert disc is given its own CD. The Read and Peel sessions both have high production values that might make them even better than the album versions. The Read session in particular sounds substantially better than the versions on Jeopardy, and while the Peel session is about as good as the From the Lion’s Mouth versions, the Peel session sounds more natural and less forced. The highlight is an early, slower version of “Hot House” that sounds like it’s still very much a work in progress. The BBC Live in Concert disc also sounds great and somehow more alive and intense than the studio versions. There’s less variation in the sound, but all the tracks are strong. Ian Nelson again shows up to contribute sax to the same three songs he played on from Heads and Hearts, and his parts are more upfront in the mix.

After The Sound, Adrian Borland stayed quite active in the music world until his unfortunate suicide, although he never again quite matched the same level of quality that he had with The Sound. His solo albums carried on where Thunder Up left off, with less of an alternative or post-punk sound and more of a mainstream pop sensibility. His songwriting was generally still good, but the production was often quite cheesy and dated. Borland was also a member of Honolulu Mountain Daffodils (under pseudonym), a bizarre and playful band led by Pete Williams. While many of their songs are indulgent or uninspired, plenty are creative and successful. The vocals are consistently bad, but the atmospheres and ideas are often quite good. “Also Sprächt Scott Thurston”, “(I Feel Like A) Francis Bacon Painting”, and “Collector of Souls” are particularly noteworthy. Later in his career, Borland also collaborated with Carlo van Putten and others (including Mark Burgess of The Chameleons!) under the name White Rose Transmission. Their albums are well-produced, gothic, and haunting, but the results are again mixed. Some of their music works, but some is drab or awkward.

It’s a shame that The Sound never found wider appreciation. Living in the shadow of Echo & the Bunnymen did them no favors; while the Bunnymen may have reached greater heights, one wonders if The Sound could’ve gone just as far if they’d been given the same budget and support. I’m glad that they persevered despite all the downsides of the music industry and that they managed to find sympathetic labels for so long. The Sound never released a bad album, and their willingness to grow and develop without repeating themselves makes their back catalog quite rewarding to explore. The Edsel box sets are well worth their price and are quite well assembled, even if the Statik albums and some of the rarities are sourced from somewhere other than the original master tapes.

Scores:
Propaganda: C+
Physical World EP: B-
Jeopardy: A-
Live Instinct EP: C
From the Lion’s Mouth: B
“Hot House”: A
All Fall Down: B+
This Cover Keeps Reality Unreal EP: C
1983 demos: C-
Shock of Daylight EP: A
Heads and Hearts: A-
In the Hothouse: C+
Thunder Up: B
The BBC Recordings: B

Further Reading:
Interview with Bi Marshall, Part 1
Interview with Bi Marshall, Part 2

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Falco - Einzelhaft (1982)

I think the first time I'd heard of Falco was when someone (probably one of my sisters) played his first major single, "Der Kommissar". (I remained rather unaware of his other big single ("Rock Me Amadeus") for a long time.) I've always liked the song a lot, and as I've been learning German for about six years now, it was also another part of the wonderful culture I have tried to connect myself with. (In fact, the only time I've heard the song on the radio was while in Germany three years ago.)

At some point before studying abroad in Vienna, I learned that Falco was not only an Austrian, but a true Wiener (that is, he's from Vienna; don't get the wrong idea), and I bought a 12" single of "Der Kommissar". While living in Vienna, I found a copy of his debut album, Einzelhaft (basically, "solitary confinement") for sale at a good price, so I bought it, and I really liked it. Shortly afterward, I decided to go to the Zentralfriedhof (Central Graveyard) of Vienna, where Falco, Mozart, and many other composers, authors, politicians, artists, and commoners are buried. Somehow I couldn't find Falco's grave, so I had to make a second pilgrimage after consulting a map that a fan made online. It's awesome:


Later, while in Graz, the second biggest city in Austria, I happened to find a reasonably-priced copy of Falco 3, which opens with "Rock Me Amadeus". I like Einzelhaft better, but Falco 3 sold better. Therefore, I'm going to review Einzelhaft and mention Falco 3 a fair amount at the same time.


Artist: Falco
Album: Einzelhaft ("Solitary Confinement")
Year: 1982
Label: A&M (USA), Gig Records (Austria/Germany)

Tracklist:
01. Zuviel Hitze ("Too Much Heat")
02. Der Kommissar ("The Commissioner")
03. Siebzehn Jahr ("Seventeen Years (Old)")
04. Auf der Flucht ("On the Run")
05. Ganz Wien ("All of Vienna")
06. Maschine Brennt ("Machine Burns")
07. Hinter uns die Sintflut ("Behind Us the Flood")
08. Nie Mehr Schule ("No More School")
09. Helden von Heute ("Heroes of Today")
10. Einzelhaft

Analysis:
If lyrics are any indication of character traits, Falco is a Vienna-loving drug user. "Zuviel Hitze", "Der Kommissar", and "Ganz Wien" are all clearly about drugs. "Zuviel Hitze" discusses overdosing (but is open to other similar interpretations): "es hat zuviel Hitze, und da friere ich" ("there's too much heat and I'm freezing") and "Staub zu Staub vergeht / ich komme viel zu spät" ("ashes to ashes die away / I'm coming much too late").

"Zuviel Hitze", though, simply cannot match either of the other songs discussing drug use. "Der Kommissar", a #1 single in at least seven countries, was the song that rocketed Falco to international fame. After the Fire, an otherwise forgettable American band, did a cover with fairly faithfully-translated lyrics that got to #3 in America, and one of Trent Reznor's first bands, Option 30, also did a cover with some hilarious vocal work from Reznor. The themes of the song are fairly straightforward: finding drugs and avoiding the police. The song has a good synthy feel and a fantastic guitar hook, and the chorus is irresistibly catchy: "dreh' dich nicht um / der Kommissar geht um / er wird dich anschauen / und du weißt warum / die Lebenslust bringt dich um / alles klar, Herr Kommissar?" ("don't turn around / the commissioner's around / he will look at you / and you know why / your lust to live will kill you / everything clear, sir commissioner?")

The key to "Ganz Wien" lies in the main chorus line: "ganz Wien / ist heut' auf Heroin" ("all of Vienna / is on heroin today"). The song pulses smoothly and rather slowly along, but it has a good rock feel and would make a good mid-tempo dance song. As per normal for Falco, synths abound and a good, distorted guitar adds texture. The song makes a few subtle specifically-Vienna references, such as the ball season there (the Opernball ("Opera Ball") is huge) and the U4, one of the original U-Bahn (subway) lines running through the city, partially along the Wienfluss (Vienna River).

"Siebzehn Jahr" is the only straight romantically-themed song on the album, which to me is great. (I get really annoyed when bands can only sing about romance. It's a great theme to sing about, but so are many, many other things. For example, politics and history.) The girl of focus here is dating a film star and successfully manages to keep her youthful age a secret.

"Auf der Flucht" discusses two cities at different points in history: West Berlin, 1967, and Zürich, 1982. The title apparently refers to running away from the crises and problems in these places. I know the story of Berlin (the Wall, overzealous police force, entrapment due to Soviet influence on all sides, etc.) but I really don't know the Zürich story. Something about unsuccessful protests against some sort of financial situation... can anyone help me here? In any case, it's interesting and has a good driving synth riff. One must ask, though, why Falco didn't mention the Berlin-like situation in Vienna right after World War II (it was also divided between the four main Allied powers for ten years).

"Hinter uns die Sintflut" is about a scandal involving the discovery of an until then-successful money-laundering big-businessman. "Nie Mehr Schule" is a catchy and straightforward piece about having enough school and wanting to just have fun. "Helden von Heute", like "Ganz Wien", is more mid-tempo, but still driving, rockish, and danceable, with some staple synth-and-guitar work. The song appears at first to just be about being trendy and hip, but then mentions (in English) "no future" and then name-checks New Wave (clearly the movement Falco is a part of), but says of it, "ist heute das Wort für nichts Besseres mehr zu tun" ("[it] is today the word for having nothing better to do").

Review and Comparison with Falco 3:
If there's one thing you can say about Falco, it's that he loves Vienna. Keeping in mind that Wien is the German word for Vienna, consider that he has an album titled Wiener Blut ("Viennese Blood") and several songs about or mentioning the city ("Ganz Wien" ("All of Vienna"), "Vienna Calling", etc.). And if there's one thing you can say has changed about me since studying abroad, it's that I love Vienna. And it follows that I love Falco, but to be fair, his music isn't perfect.

There is something of a typical "Falco sound" (not too far from the typical New Wave sound...), and Falco doesn't really even try to avoid it. In fact, he appears to love it. However, to at least some degree, he is subject to the influence of whoever is (co-)producing and (co-)writing his music: Einzelhaft was a collaboration with Robert Ponger, but the far more poppy-sounding Falco 3 was a collaboration with Rob and Ferdi Bolland, who were clearly concerned with producing big hits. Falco 3 is loaded with plenty of hits ("Rock Me Amadeus" (a funky song about Mozart and how much of a punk he was), "Vienna Calling" (straightforward pop about.... nothing), "Jeanny" (which tries way too hard to be a big ballad), and "America" (humorously about selling records there, missing being there, and an American trying to buy a Wiener Schnitzel in Austria)), but ultimately feels very shallow. (Also... crappy cover:)


Whereas the pop and gloss of Einzelhaft is redeemed by mostly clever lyrics, the novelty of being 95% German, and simply good music, Falco 3 fails to have any depth. There's too much English, too much poppyness without good reason, and the closing cover of Bob Dylan's "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue" is so passive, elevator-music-esque, and forgettable that one has to wonder why Falco bothered. (A rewrite of the Cars' "Lookin' for Love" as "Munich Girls" works somewhat better.)

Einzelhaft is a fun romp through nearly campy nostalgia and novelty, but even beyond that, as a serious work, it is fairly good. Wikipedia mentions the influence of David Bowie's Eno-assisted Low album, but the connection is thin. (Wikipedia goes as far as to say that "Nie mehr Schule" borrows "Speed of Life"'s music and "Helden von Heute" is a rewrite of "Heroes", but I think neither are the case.) The music is very New Wave, with lots of synth and a good dose of guitar. The beat is always danceable, and weird sound effects can be found on the fringes. Also important is just how catchy the album is (something can't really deny about Falco 3, also).

Eventually I'll get around to checking out more of Falco's albums... he has several more, most of which were #1 smashes in Austria (and sometimes in Germany, too), but the two I've discussed here and probably the only two people know anything about in America. I half want Nachtflug ("Night Flight") just for the cover:


Should you ask which Falco album to buy, get Einzelhaft. It's more fulfilling, and as far as #1 singles go, "Der Kommissar" is better than "Rock Me Amadeus".

Scores:
Einzelhaft: B
Falco 3: D+ (D is for "disappointing", remember. It isn't horrible, just... not as good as Einzelhaft.)
"Der Kommissar": A+
"Rock Me Amadeus": B+
Falco's grave: A+ (Literally the best I've ever seen.)

Note that you can find translations of many Falco songs (including most of Einzelhaft) at http://www.falco-calling.com/translat.htm. [Edit 2019.11.14: archived link.]