Tag Archives: 1997

(Almost) Thirty Years On: February 1997

Posted on by
Reply

I spent most of the next month or so taking my time thinking about how to approach the futuristic sci-fi story idea I’d had in my head for the last couple of years. While True Faith was a step in the right direction, there were two things wrong with it. One, it felt like a swing and a miss; it had its moments but it felt too derivative and weak, like I wasn’t allowing myself to expand on the ideas and push boundaries. And two, now that I was no longer on speaking terms with its co-author, it was probably for the best that I start over from scratch.

So because of this, I had to approach the project from two different directions: I wanted it to be original and 100% from me, and I wanted to force myself out of my old writing styles and crutches and try something utterly new. And it was a single of a re-recorded track that became the spark that started it all.

Depeche Mode, “Barrel of a Gun” single, released 3 February 1997. The last couple of years had not been good for the band, considering they’d lost key member Alan Wilder after their last tour and almost lost lead singer Dave Gahan to drugs. We weren’t quite sure what to expect of the band, especially when they dropped this heavy and unsettling teaser track. And yet it was less a downward spiral and more of a hard road out of hell, a song of redemption that signaled a new sound and style for the band.

Texas, White On Blonde, released 3 February 1997. “Say What You Want” is one of those oh, THAT song! tracks that pops up on the radio now and again and you forget you really like it. This Scottish band dropped a fine single that got a lot of play both on MTV and on AOR stations, and the album was a moderate success for them. Some time later, the song would be re-released as a completely unexpected yet fascinating duet with the Wu-Tang Clan. I remember my boss really liking this album and giving it a lot of play out on the floor.

U2, “Discothéque” single, released 4 February 1997. At this point this band had settled into the well-trodden path of ‘release brilliant album –> put on an amazing live show –> how the hell do they follow this up?’, and this time they put out…a dance song? It took a lot of people by surprise. Instead of getting another rocker like “Zooropa” we got another discofied “Lemon”. [And let’s face it, the Passengers side project was met with headscratching and an ‘okay fine you’ve done your experimental thing, give us another rocker now’.] There were already rumors that the upcoming album was half-baked and incomplete, an utter mess and even more into their own navels than usual. And yet…somehow this became a huge hit despite all that.

Silverchair, Freak Show, released 4 February 1997. After the impressive and popular debut Frogstomp, this trio surprised everyone by coming out with something that was less peppy Pearl Jam and more swampy Alice in Chains. It’s a much darker and grungier album, prefaced by the snotty single “Freak” and followed up with the sludgy “Abuse Me”. I found this abrupt change intriguing enough that this album got quite a bit of play at the time.

The Offspring, Ixnay On the Hombre, released 4 February 1997. It took this punk band almost three years to follow up from the hugely successful Smash album, and when it finally dropped it was a much darker and more polished affair on a major label. It’s not quite as brash as its predecessor, and its songs feel a bit gloomier in comparison, especially the major hit “Gone Away”. It’s not a terrible album, but it’s definitely a step in a different direction that took time to get used to, and one they’d use to considerable success over the next several years.

Blur, Blur, released 10 February 1997. Another band in need of a change, this UK favorite felt like they’d overstayed their quirky ‘Cool Britannia’ moment and needed to adjust course away from Britpop if they wanted to keep going. And in the process, they wrote and recorded a guitar-heavy record that reveals their unexpected angular post-punk side that works perfectly. From the blistering favorite “Song 2” to the Bowie riff “MOR” to the twitchy “On Your Own”, it’s so different from the snarky Parklife and the glossy The Great Escape that its fans were utterly blown away by it. It remains a fan favorite to this day.

Veruca Salt, Eight Arms to Hold You, released 11 February 1997. A few years after their wonderfully poppy American Thighs with its catchy singles “Seether” and “Number One Blind”, they released their second album (its title a nod to the Beatles, of course) along with the equally catchy “Volcano Girls” that got a lot of play on alternative radio.

Poe, “Hello” single, released 11 February 1997. The song itself dates back to her 1995 debut, but it’s this full-band reimagining that contained the venom and power the original sorely lacked, and it became a radio favorite almost immediately. It’s also this version of the track that was the spark I needed to restart my sci-fi novel project. The lyrics are an obvious nod to the literary cyberpunk genre — so much so that it feels like a direct reference to the 1995 movie Johnny Mnemonic — and suddenly I had an idea: what if the soul can be shifted into a different body? Between that and a quick reread of the original Ghost in the Shell manga, I was off and running. And the rest is (a rather long) history.

Soundtrack, Lost Highway, released 18 February 1997. Even though my interest in David Lynch’s work had fallen by the wayside by this point, this soundtrack fascinated me with its heady mix of creepy instrumentals and intense industrial noise. I absolutely loved the Nine Inch Nails single “The Perfect Drug”, but also the Smashing Pumpkins track “Eye” which also got a considerable amount of play on WFNX.

Live, Secret Samadhi, released 18 February 1997. Another band that took its time working on the follow-up to a groundbreaking album, this was yet another one that detoured into a much darker realm. There’s the chunky-riff single “Lakini’s Juice”, the tender ballad “Turn My Head”, the weird “Freaks” and the gritty opener “Rattlesnakes”. It wasn’t as huge a hit as Throwing Copper was, but it did reasonably well.

Sneaker Pimps, Becoming X (US Edition), released 25 February 1997. I’d been waiting on this one since I’d first heard “6 Underground” at the end of last year, and had even talked the boss into ordering a few import copies beforehand, but when it finally landed in the US, it took off like a shot and became a huge favorite of the alternative crowd, especially those who were enamored of that dark and grimy trip-hop sound they’d heard from Tricky and Portishead. It’s a great album, sometimes unsettling and weird but always keeping your interest from start to finish. This also got a lot of repeat play for my writing sessions!

*

Coming Up: In which I finally begin a new writing project that will keep me busy for the next two decades.

(Almost) Thirty Years On: January 1997

Posted on by
Reply

As mentioned previously, I’m continuing with 1997 as it’s the first full year of my stay at HMV. Even though I’d technically started in late September 1996, I kind of consider those first couple of months a trial run, getting myself used to the job while at the same time dealing with a lot of personal change. Once that disconnect from the recent past was made permanent, I had a clean slate to work with, and I wasn’t going to squander it. I was still thinking about what my next writing project would be, yet I kept coming back to the original Vigil idea that intrigued me back in 1993. I let that stew for a little while, as first I had to work on something else: getting myself started in the first place!

I knew that the best way for me to kickstart my writing again was to use the motto I’d come up with during the summer of 1995: Just shut the f*ck up and DO it already. I’d already been writing lyrics and poetry, something I’d returned to during my stay at the radio station, and thought it was time for me to start lugging a few notebooks with me to work. I started heading in a half hour earlier than normal just so I could sit in the food court. At the start, I’d put on my headphones and listened to a few albums while writing a few lyrics and poems here and there, and it was right around the end of January that I felt it finally reconnected with me. [I remember it was a poem about the mall walkers I’d see every morning that finally pushed me across the line.]

Riverdance, released sometime in 1995-96, depending on which edition. I add this here at this time mainly because this had been such a huge thing on PBS over the Christmas season. It was their go-to for their fundraising drives and the soundtrack ended up getting some serious sales in the process. It was a go-to for the overhead speakers during the quieter mornings. The 1996 edition came out right during the height of the new-age/Celtic folk mini-boom, one that I’d dabbled in for a bit and was an inspiration and influence on True Faith and The Phoenix Effect.

Bjork, Telegram, released 14 January 1997. As a follow-up to her genre-bending second album Post, she dropped a remix collection that didn’t quite hit the same heights but did feature a re-recording of the single “I Miss You”, complete with a bonkers music video animated by John Krikfalusi of Ren & Stimpy fame. She’d follow up later in the year with a proper third album that, once again, defied expectations.

Jamiroquai, Travelling Without Moving, released 14 January 1997. Yes, that video, the one Jay Kay has just recently and humorously riffed on for a Beefeaters Gin advertisement. “Virtual Insanity” was a huge breakout single for his brand of Stevie Wonder-inspired funk, and the rest of the album is just as brilliant and amazing. Further singles “Cosmic Girl” and “Alright” were just as popular, and the closer “Do You Know Where You’re Coming From” — officially a drum-n-bass track by M-Beat with Jay Kay on vocals — is a stunner. This one got a ton of play in the back room of the store and also got some heavy spins during my writing sessions throughout the year. It’s one of my favorites of the year.

Daft Punk, Homework, released 17 January 1997. It took me a little while to get into Daft Punk as the first I’d heard of them was the single “Da Funk” which didn’t resonate with me at all. However, upon watching the highly creative and amusing Michel Gondry video for “Around the World”, I was finally won over. It would take a little while longer for me to finally add them to my collection, however!

The Verve Pipe, “The Freshmen” single, released 27 January 1997. This is the one Verve Pipe song everyone knows, considering it was so saturated on rock radio at this point, but thankfully it gave the excellent Villains album a second boost in sales. They’ll still happily roll this track out these days when they’re playing live…not bad for what was originally a deep cut on their 1992 indie debut!

Built to Spill, Perfect from Now On, released 28 January 1997. This indie band had been around for a few years by this point, but it was this record, their first for a major label, that caught everyone else’s attention. And it’s quite interesting in that it was a deliberate move away from their original sound, leaning more on sprawling melodies and experimentation.

David Bowie, Earthling, released 30 January 1997. This one interestingly polarizes fans, considering it’s his foray into electronic music. There’s a lot of drum-n-bass, industrial and house going on here, and I think that’s why it appealed to me. I’d been a passive fan but never went out of my way to pick up his back catalogue (other than a greatest hits collection or two), but this one fascinated the hell out of me and became one of my favorite albums of the year. It too got a lot of backroom play as well as being a writing soundtrack.

*

Coming up: In which several new releases give me an unexpected creative spark.

Favorite songs: Isolation

Posted on by
Reply

Every now and again I think about this EP, and how it’s affected me over the years. It’s Mark Pritchard of Global Communication and Kirsty Hawkshaw (formerly of Opus III, you know her from two covers: Jane’s “It’s a Fine Day” King Crimson’s “I Talk to the Wind“). I first discovered them on a quirky seasonal compilation called Invocation — the same album that introduced me to Jocelyn Pook. I listened to that album constantly during the final months of 1997 and into 1998, using it as a soundtrack to my writing at the time.

The song itself (Part 1 lasts a bit over eleven minutes, and Part 2 a bit over eight) is what I imagined as the best example of ambient electronic music: there was melody, but there was also mood and atmosphere. It was like the culmination of everything I loved about 4AD bands like Cocteau Twins and Dead Can Dance. It also felt widescreen in my mind. Cinematic in its own way, telling a story with its weavings of highs, lows, bursts and quietness. There was something about it that somehow hit me viscerally, and it felt almost like…a spiritual leaving.

I used that feeling some years later when I wrote a pivotal scene in The Balance of Light with the final moments between Denni and Saisshalé.

This track was actually what got me into Global Communication soon after, picking up both their brilliant 76:14 (highly recommended) and their album of Chapterhouse remixes, Pentamerous Metamorphosis, both of which had recently been reissued in the US. Those two albums, along with Invocation, became some of my favorite go-to albums when writing the Bridgetown Trilogy, especially when I needed something deeply atmospheric.

Platinum Records

Posted on by
Reply

If you haven’t seen my recent post over at Welcome to Bridgetown, I’m currently celebrating the platinum anniversary of my starting a novel (The Phoenix Effect) that would end up morphing into my Bridgetown trilogy.  All this month I will be posting fun things related to the original as well as the trilogy, and I thought I’d do the same over here.

Twenty years ago I was a few months in on my relatively new job as the lone shipper/receiver at HMV Records.  Even though I was one of the oldest hires there (I’m pretty sure I was closer to my manager Tom’s age than the young’uns I worked alongside), I was still feeling my way around.

The biggest change from the years previous was that I had a much closer connection to the music I was listening to.  I was listening to a lot of radio at the time but didn’t have that much money to spend on new releases, but this job let me listen to a lot more stuff (and yes, I may have dubbed a number of cds onto blank cassettes while in the back room, heh!).

But the sounds were changing as well.  The bright bounciness of Britpop was suffering from hangovers and bloating (see: Oasis’ Be Here Now, a solid but WAY overworked album); the American grunge was kind of losing its way (not to mention some of its lead singers to overdoses), and let’s face it: the college rock I knew of then was essentially the commercial rock of now.

That’s not to say the quality (or quantity) of alternative rock was declining…it was merely evolving with the times.  In fact, 1997 featured some fantastic, solid releases from bands both old and new, taking the genre in new and interesting directions.

On a personal level this was a positive and much-needed evolution for me, as I’d been in dire need of a change in my life and outlook.  I’d been broke, angry and depressed for about three years straight, gone through some personal issues that were Not Fun At All, and needed a positive change ASAP.

Not only that, this change in mood is reflected in my writing.  I’d essentially started a new project resurrected from the ashes of one that I had to close down for personal reasons.  And let’s be brutally honest:  back then, I’d had a collegiate view of being a writer.  I was a special snowflake with the Powers of Story [insert sprinkly *whoosh* sfx here] and I wrote Important Life Allegories™.  In reality, however…my writing was crap, I knew it was crap, no one was going to take it seriously, and I was going to need to be a shit ton better than the level I was currently at if was going to get anywhere with it.

So that meant dispensing with the mindset of Writing as Superpower and take it seriously.  Making it a daily process instead of a casual one.  Relearning the basics of story construction.  (This included doing a hell of a lot more reading than before; not just the how-to writing books, but the different genres of fiction and nonfiction I was interested in.  This plan kick-started my habit of visiting book stores on the weekends and, thankfully, a love of reading.)

Music has always been a part of my writing process, and this time it was no different.  This time out I’d be making mixtapes of tracks that would inspire my writing (the four-volume Songs from the Eden Cycle from 1997-8, the sort-of sequels in the early 2000s, and the recent Eden Cycle Sessions mp3 playlists).  Certain albums released during this time would get heavy rotation play on my cd player down in my basement writing nook.  And I’d listen to a hell of a lot of stuff on my fifty-mile commute, which was always a perfect time for me to brainstorm.

I’d made a decision to be a writer quite early in my life, but 1997 was when I decided to take that decision seriously.