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| The low-key development of the Cruel Sea in Australia, and now in Europe, has undeniable parallels to the growth of modern-rock stars in the U.S., say observers.
"It's awfully refreshing to have a band like the Cruel Sea break through," says Geoff Holland, music director of 2MMM-FM radio in Sydney. "It's our own little version of what happened in the U.S. with Nirvana. There was no great marketing plan, at least that I could see--it just happened because it should have. I suppose we like the fact that the Cruel Sea are not the sort of band that would bother to pander to commercial tastes in music, or even to commercial radio's tastes in music. They're going to open some doors for other bands and maybe a new sound in Australian rock." There may not have been a calculated marketing plan for the Cruel Sea, but the band did fit into Polydor Australia managing director Paul Dickson's strategy of developing more local talent. "We didn't have a great track record with Australian music, but this is a new decade and a new attitude," says Dickson. "We're backing away from the world of heavy advertising and hobnailed-boot marketing and using word of mouth, college radio, and good instincts. We decided we wanted developing acts, not assembled pop sensations." After considering three promising small indie concerns, Polydor signed a distribution deal three years ago with John Foy's Red Eye Records, an operation that grew out of a legendary Sydney record shop specializing in independent music and imports. The agreement enabled Red Eye to find a wider audience for an intriguing catalog of impressive recordings by the likes of the Church leader Steve Kilbey, the Surrealists, the Clouds, and Perkins' side project, the Beasts Of Bourbon. Foy reports that the Beasts Of Bourbon have sold 75,000 albums in Europe "on the quiet," and PolyGram's Trent notes that the previous success of that band, particularly in France, gave the Cruel Sea a head start in Europe. The Cruel Sea will make its entry into the American market when "The Honeymoon Is Over" is released by A&M Records in the late summer or early fall. Toward the end of the year, they will start work on a fourth album, for which they have already written five new songs. "They've really blurred the categories of mainstream and alternative" says Foy. "I hate the comparisons to Nirvana that everyone makes, but maybe the Cruel Sea have become catalysts in Australia for a new wave of thought, like [Nirvana] were in America." With the Badloves, Chocolate Starfish, Frente!, and others setting the pace, the same could be said for Red Eye's entire stable. The Cruel Sea, the Clouds, and the Surrealists are all touring overseas and selling records. "John Foy is a passionate man, but he is also a very clever one," says Dickson. "He's taught us that if you've only got $3,000 [$2,000 U.S.] to make a video clip, it will still get made, usually by people who really care about the act. Polydor has been able to give Red Eye the resources as they've needed them and not before. I suppose we've kept them lean and mean." RE
AUSNZ : Australia and New Zealand | AUSTR : Australia IPC 3652
Sound recording industry Rock groups Australia Prerecorded records and tapes
Document bbrd000020011028dq6b002kj HD Sometime Anywhere._(sound recording reviews) BY Mike Mettler WC 309 words PD 1 October 1994 SN Guitar Player SC GTRP PG 15
VOL Vol. 28, No. 10, ISSN: 0017-5463 LA English CY COPYRIGHT 1994 Miller Freeman Publications LP
With the departure of guitarist Peter Koppes, the ethereal sonic scriptures set forth on the Church's ninth Arista album, Sometime Anywhere, are solely the sermons of guitarist Marty Willson-Piper and bassist Steve Kilbey. "We went into the studio without a band and recorded direct to tape," Marty says cheerfully, "which pleasantly confirmed my belief that we could do great things as a duo." The atmospheric Anywhere continues the Church's tradition of mining lush deposits of open-chord jangle, though the pair branched out with the techno-lite touches on "Angelica" and the funky trills of "Authority." The blending of materials resulted in some fresh sounds: Willson-Piper enjoyed mixing the timbres of his '70s Strat with the chiming textures of his beloved 6- and 12-string Rickenbackers. For the Neil Young-influenced "The Maven," he played healthy rhythms on a '91 Les Paul Custom, taking the lead on a '68 Fender Jazzmaster. TD
Willson-Piper, a Liverpool, England, native who migrated to Australia in the late '70s before joining the Church, plays through Vox AC30 amplifiers, stopping first at an Ibanez UE-405 multi-effects pedal for analog delay and stereo chorus. "I've discovered a new effect recently--my foot," he grins. "I'm getting some amazingly expressive sounds with a Boss FV-100 volume pedal." Distinguished by his ability to generate painterly, psychedelic soundscapes from simple gear, Willson-Piper nevertheless places his faith in the artist, not the tools. "The old cliche goes that a poor workman blames his tools, but I'm at the point where the tools don't really matter much," the Churchman relates. "It's the ideas that take priority. As long as I can get the ideas across, I could get a good tune out of a chair and a desk." ART
illustration photograph IPD Review Sound recordings AN Document gtrp000020011029dqa1000bb SE Metro HD SHORT TAKES BY FRED BLANKS For The First Paragraph Only WC 404 words PD 25 February 1994 SN Sydney Morning Herald SC SMHH
PG 3 LA English CY Copyright of John Fairfax Group Pty Ltd LP
FROM FRED BLANKS: an unfortunate love affair between a human prince and a Czech water nymph caused Dvorak to write his immensely popular opera Rusalka, which receives concert performances in the Opera House tonight and on Monday. For something a little more cerebral, hear the visiting Bach choir which sings not Bach but Vivaldi's Gloria and Mozart's Requiem in the Opera House on Wednesday. If all that music sounds past its expiry date, try the Alpha Centauri Trio with recent music at the Conservatorium on Thursday or, on the same day, commute to Canberra to meet Jack The Ripper - The Musical, not to be confused with Lulu, who has just expired at Jack's hands at the Opera House. TD
THAT self-taught and widely acclaimed one-man band Rory McLeod is back in town with his unique combination of instruments and yarn-spinning songs. Combining social comment with personal insights gained on his travels over five continents, the popular Cockney plays the Birkenhead Point Tavern tomorrow from 7.30 pm. He is supported by the Backsliders. GIG OF the week. The man for whom it's black or it ain't worth wearing, Johnny Cash, is in Sydney this weekend. He joins his wife, June Carter(co-writer of Ring of Fire), their son, John Carter Cash (of course), and Kris Kristofferson at the Entertainment Centre, Sunday night. WHAT'S that you say? You too want to know what that old Stephen Cummings is up to? Glad you asked, by George | Cummings is at this moment completing a new album produced by Metro's favourite guy, Steve Kilbey. The new set features songs co-written by everyone's favourite pianist, Chris Abrahams, and features Cumming's long-time guitarist, Shane O'Mara. The "best of" CD, Unguided Tour, is being released in Britain and Europe, where Cummings will tour in July. He is also compiling a catalogue for Dare Jennings of the Mambo label for CD release in July, the theme of which is sexual jealousy. The CD will be available in July. Anything else? No? Good. JUST FOR the record. In last week's Metro, our story on the ceroc dance competition at North Sydney Leagues Club referred to Ray Mather as choreographer of the film Strictly Ballroom. That honour belongs to John "Cha Cha" O'Connell. Mather was assistant choreographer. AN
Document smhh000020011030dq2p003v2 SE The Guide; Reviews HD AN UNWANTED ALBUM BY SHANE DANIELSEN WC 869 words PD 4 July 1994 SN Sydney Morning Herald SC SMHH
PG 6 LA English CY Copyright of John Fairfax Group Pty Ltd LP
PAUL KELLY: Wanted Man (White/Mushroom). The approach to criticism of Paul Kelly seems to be consistent: one duly praises his skill as a wordsmith while ignoring his capability as a musician, the logic apparently being that critics prefer words to music - though given that most of this country's rock critics are themselves barely literate, this seems a somewhat unlikely proposition. TD
Appropriate or not, it shall not redeem him here, for if musically this album is too disparate to be satisfying - its gestures towards tired 12-bar blues (Ball And Chain ), country-pop (Maybe This Time For Sure ) and tepid jazz (Lately ) are unconvincing, like so much stylistic pastiche - then lyrically it fails also, revealing a songwriter slipping into uncertain middle age, casting about in vain for new themes. More often than not, the result is bland and unusually dull: a line like"She's warm, she's fresh, like summer rain" is neither profound nor insightful; it lacks resonance; it smacks of laziness. Worst of all, it is a cliche. Contentment is a realm rarely conducive to the creative impulse, and for Kelly - whose strongest songs have almost always been his darkest (viz. Everything's Turning to White ) - love and acclaim seem perilous bedfellows indeed. By his own standards, Wanted Man is a grave disappointment. MARTIN PLAZA: Andy's Chest (RCA-BMG) Call it perverse, but one would have liked to have been present in the record company boardroom when Martin Plaza announced his next album would be comprised entirely of covers - Lou Reed covers. An inscrutable, some would say foolhardy, undertaking, yet nevertheless Plaza triumphs - crafting, of all things, an intensely personal album, its instrumentation understated, its production sparse and lovely. You hear little things: fingers scraping on nylon strings, a faint catch of breath at the beginning of a line; it is, like the best chamber pop music, a thing of nuance and intimation, rather than grand gestures. From Velvet Underground classics like Waiting (For My Man) through to Reed's solo songs - famous (Satellite of Love ) and lesser known (Women, Perfect Day ) - Plaza's delivery proves more than equal to his material: perfectly catching the mixture of hurt and puzzlement in the lyric to Caroline Says II; lending gravity in his dark, ruminative version of Love You Suzanne to what is one of Reed's more slight compositions. Even more than the songs themselves, however, one is held by the mature beauty of Plaza's voice, as rich and subtle an instrument as that possessed by any of this country's pop vocalist. Reed himself should be so blessed. THE CHURCH: Sometime Anywhere (White/Mushroom) The news early last year that The Church were now reduced to two members, Steve Kilbey and Marty Wilson-Piper, and that they would henceforth restrict their activities to the studio, came, it must be admitted, as something of a relief - their live shows becoming increasingly phatic gestures, their songwriting ambitions far outstripping the standard two-guitar line-up with which they were saddled. Yet the resulting album is in one sense a disappointment, being for the most part nothing more surprising or less engaging than another Church album. Indeed, it seems puzzling, given their stated desire to be liberated from the conventions and constraints of a rock band, that tracks like Day of the Dead and Loveblind are so typically Church-like, so classical in form; each could have been taken from 1990's Gold Afternoon Fix, or for that matter from Starfish. This is, however, not to deny that most of Sometime Anywhere is excellent. While one wishes more risks had been taken, more styles and sources chewed up and assimilated (only a few tracks here - Angelica, Lost My Touch, Eastern -expand upon their guitar-pop origins, or take full advantage of their studio settings) their command of that style for which they're renowned remains formidable. Ironically, had they kept their ambitions quiet, this album would have seemed a coup; as it is, it smacks of compromise. UNDERGROUND LOVERS: Dream It Down (Polydor) While Melbourne's Underground Lovers are to be commended for their lack of parochialism, their obvious disdain for the faddish stupidity of local independent rock, they find themselves at a creative impasse. 1992's Leaves Me Blind was one of the best albums of its year; and sadly, nothing here quite equals the adrenalised rush, the drama of songs like Promenade. Instead they seem becalmed, directionless, stalled between pretty inertia (Weak Will, Losin' It ) and the flailing histrionics of tracks like Las Vegas. Accused in the past of being little more than the sum of their influences, they here seem curiously unable to transcend them. Still, their augmentation of strings and nods to techno (the machine-pulses, the layered soundscapes) are at least adventurous; and Phillipa Nihill's vocals remain their strongest asset, heard to best advantage on Recognise - the track unwinding slowly before slipping into a trance-dub coda, courtesy of guest co-producers David Chesworth and Robert Goodge. By local standards, this album is a revelation. But compared with what's presently coming out of England, it's too little, and too late. AN
Document smhh000020011030dq7400ecg SE ARTS &FILM HD Sound choices BY Jim Sullivan WC 142 words PD 27 May 1994 SN The Boston Globe SC BSTNGB ED City Edition PG 45
LA English CY (c) 1994 New York Times Company. Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning. All Rights Reserved. LP AAUGH! IT'S MEMORIAL DAY weekend, and the clubs and cool bands all think you're remembering the war dead, getting fried on the beach or merrily collecting E. coli at the barbie. Prove 'em wrong! Tonight's best bets: Quasi-Church at Local 186 with an intimate acoustic set by Steve Kilbey and Marty Wilson-Piper -- those Aussies don't know it's Memorial weekend! And country-rockin' Blood Oranges at Johnny D's. Tomorrow: Sleep Chamber's erotic multi-media games at the Rat. And the return of the Joy Division-esque Holy Cow at the Middle East Downstairs with Big Catholic Guilt. Into the week, Wednesday is your night to get down with Morphine, Letters to Cleo and Smackmelon at Avalon with Sleep Chamber (again) next door at Axis. RF
THE MUSIC SECTION PUB Boston Globe Newspaper AN Document bstngb0020011028dq5r00j8m SE News and Features HD BETWEEN THE WORDS BY S. D. Danielsen WC 765 words PD 11 March 1993 SN Sydney Morning Herald SC SMHH
PG 29 LA English CY Copyright of John Fairfax Group Pty Ltd LP
HAVING dropped his first name for the stately anonymity of initials, (and in the process having become slightly more a trademark than an actual person), G. W. McLennan might be quietly pursuing a reputation as the W. H. Auden of folk-pop. Like Auden, his basic concerns are vast - questions of love and trust and honesty - while his methods, his modes of storytelling, remain at all times resolutely intimate: his is a small, intensely personal voice. TD
Words matter to McLennan. In conversation, the highest praise he can give another musician is to call them "a good songwriter" - songwriter as often as not meaning lyricist. It should surprise no-one that with this attention to language comes a desire for clarity - the wish to decipher and assign a meaning. "So many bands today - and U2 are a prime example - love presenting audiences with this excess of information, this sensory overload, as an end in itself. "They bombard you with a million images, and it's like, 'hey man, this is the world'." McLennan snorts dismissively. "So what? That says nothing. It doesn't draw any conclusions, it doesn't tell you anything. In the end, it's meaningless." So what pleases him? Oddly enough it is the feeling not of breaking new ground but of contributing, in his own way, to an established, heirarchical canon. "When I was down in Melbourne the other day I was talking to Nick (Cave)about it, and he said he thought neither of us would ever be considered experimenters, and for his part, he hoped that he wouldn't be. "Like me, he just wants to write great songs, and to some extent that involves working within a tradition. "I like working in the same area and just getting better and better at it. Am I?" He smiles. "Oh, undoubtedly. I mean, I'm sorry to be so confident about it, but I think I am. When you've made 10 records, you should have worked out what's good and what's bad. "If someone asks me what I think of one of my albums, I generally reply that I wouldn't have recorded it if I'd thought the songs were bad, and I wouldn't then have released it if I hadn't been happy with the recording. Ergo, it is good. "Yet when I say that, people get uncomfortable. Why? Why can't I say I think I'm pretty good? I've proved it to myself." But it's a subjective opinion ... "Of course. But then, so is anyone's opinion of anything. So why does one's own assessment of oneself carry less weight than another's?" Since the break-up of his former band, the still-revered Go-Betweens, the singer/songwriter has released two solo albums: Watershed and, more recently, Fireboy. Each is an articulate, highly-structured album that emphasises the material rather than the performer. When McLennan says he still loves music, he means that he still loves songs. "Yeah," he concedes slowly. "Yeah, that's probably true. I'm interested in other kinds of music, in things like techno and hip-hop, and when I'm working with Steve Kilbey (in their occasional collaboration, Jack Frost), we play around a little more with different styles. But my own interest is ultimately songs. "But at the same time," he adds, "I'm by no means a fascist about it. I'm not someone like Elvis Costello, for example, who's so respectful of the song that they don't let them breathe. I recognise that songs are basically just blueprints. "If you do it right, even three simple chords can have immense power. And to me, that's where actual talent becomes apparent: it's like, you could give people three blocks marked A, B and C - and a lot of people would simply arrange them in that order. But occasionally something a little imaginative comes along, a slightly different method. "Ultimately, though, apart from doing the most beautiful music that you can, you have to not take yourself too seriously." This latter, however, has been something that McLennan has often been accused of. "Actually," he says, "I think a lot of journalists are guilty of taking me too seriously. I think I've been badly misrepresented in that respect. "But once your image is established, it's fixed - you can't displace it."He shrugs. "But that's OK." G. W. McLennan plays at the Three Weeds tomorrow and Saturday nights. AN
Document smhh000020011101dp3b0060z HD Picks & Pans -- Priest (equals) Aura by The Church BY Helligar, Jeremy WC 149 words PD 2 March 1992 SN People Magazine SC PEOPLE PG 19
VOL Volume 37; Issue 8; ISSN: 00937673 LA English CY Copyright (c) 1992 Bell & Howell Information and Learning Company. All rights reserved. LP
Church could have had it all. After the mainstream success of their last two albums, the Australian quartet seemed poised for platinum paradise. But Priest = Aura, the eighth Church album, contains some puzzling material that only begins to sink in after several listens. Abandoning mid-tempo rock, the band returns to a subtler, more mystical approach. A few longtime staples, such as shimmering guitar arpeggios, remain intact. Lyrics are as enigmatic as ever: "Woman equals man and pot equals pan." Whatever. TD
Steve Kilbey's portentous vocals linger over an aural landscape that's tense, delicate and deliberately murky. Priest = Aura might be a bit too abstruse to lure huge flocks to the Church's pews. But keep listening, groove on the lugubrious mood, and you just might find yourself converted. (Arista). Review. RF
Copyright Time Incorporated Mar 2, 1992 NS gent : Arts/Entertainment | gmusic : Music | grel : Religion | gcat : Political/General News | gcom : Society/Community/Work RE usa : United States | namz : North American Countries/Regions IPD Audio Review-Mixed PUB Time Inc. AN Document PEOPLE0020060211do320004n SE The
HD INSIDE THE SLEEVE Gold Afternoon Fix The Church BY ALAN NIESTER WC 172 words PD 16 April 1990 SN The Globe and Mail SC GLOB
PG C7 LA English CY All material copyright Thomson Canada Limited or its licensors. All rights reserved. LP
Arista AC-8579 ALAN NIESTER The Church can justifiably be labelled The Great Lost Band of the Eighties. Certainly no one anywhere produced as satisfying a collection of work over the past 10 years as this Australian quartet. Based on the chiming Byrds-like guitar work of Marty Wilson-Piper and the dreamy, ethereal vocals of Steve Kilbey, The Church have consistently made music of depth and splendor, without sacrificing the pop feel. Yet the band is still largely unknown. All that said, Gold Afternoon Fix, its first release of the new decade, is hardly its best ever. The approach here is harder-edged, and the lilting dreaminess of numbers such as Myrrh and Under The Milky Way seems to have been lost. TD
Still, even less interesting Church music is miles more interesting than what much of the rest of the pack has to offer, and ironically, Gold Afternoon Fix may finally bring The Church the mass acceptance it richly deserves. IN
I971 : Motion Pictures/Sound Recording | IMED : Media NS NCAT : Content Types | NRVW : Review IPD phonograph records review AN Document glob000020011115dm4g00ft2 CLM PERFORMING ARTS SE STYLE HD The Church BY Mark Jenkins WC 195 words PD 11 June 1990 SN The Washington Post SC WP ED FINAL PG d07 LA English CY (Copyright 1990) LP
Though the music the Church played Friday night at the Citadel Center was hardly less windy, bloated or overbearing than at its last D.C. gig, roughly two years ago at Lisner Auditorium, the band did seem more playful this time around-at least between songs. Bassist and lead singer Steve Kilbey was chatty and droll, repeatedly teasing the audience with the bass line to "You're So Beautiful" and disparaging such pomp-rock competition as the Mission. Still, the show had some deadly similarities to the Lisner show, notably its numbing length and the band's insistence on flogging material from its tepid latest album while playing down earlier, livelier songs. "Under the Milky Way" and "Grind" were appealing, but the set's highlight was a cover of the Patti Smith Group's "Dancin' Barefoot," a tribute to Church fill-in drummer Jay Dee Daugherty, a PSG veteran. TD
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