Stripping song structures down to a 4 or 6 track recording can go one of two ways. Good or bad. If an artist avoids the perils of basic recording equipment, which can struggle to separate guitar and vocals, the results can be quite wonderful - elevating a piece beyond the sum of its (very few) parts.
Interestingly, Springsteen originally intended his first stab at the enduring Nebraska - all recorded on a cassette four-track - as nothing more than a set of demos. He failed to capture the same primacy in studio recordings and wisely stuck with the hissing originals.
Much modern pop music can be traced back to the Fab Four. Some songs however speak louder than most of their Beatles’ lineage.
The late Elliott Smith and Oasis were well-known devotees - Liam still spends huge amounts at auctions on memorabilia. In fact all but one of the artsists have covered the band at some point - the most ambitious being Smith’s 4-track solo recording of Because.
Their influence has spilled over so vividly in these songs that none would be out of place on peak Beatles’ records. A testament to the band’s enduring greatness and the talent of the artists below.
1) Eeels – That Look you give that guy A delicately crafted love song. Very hushed with simple but powerful lyrics – a John song then.
2) Jayhawks – I’d Run Away Joyous harmonies bring to mind solo-era George Harrison but this would be equally at home on Rubber Soul alongside more upbeat tracks like I’m Looking Through You.
3) Elliot Smith – Baby Britain Smith prioritised chord changes above all else in his work. The little turns this song takes are sublime. The piano riff plays out like a slowed down Lady Madonna.McCartney would be proud.
4) Oasis – She’s Electric It would be shameful not to include something from (What’s The Story) Morning Glory? – the verse is nice enough but it’s the amazing bridge which lifts it into Beatles territory.
5) Julian Lennon- Saltwater Ok, this might actually have been stolen from an Abbey Road Studios demo tape! More of a tribute song than a composition in its own right but I’m sure that was the intention and a lovely one it is.
Relistening to Spirit of Eden it’s hard not to frame what you are hearing against the backdrop of the album’s creation – it’s the archetypal ‘fighting the man’ story.
Cries of ‘selling-out’ have been commonplace in music for a long-time. Sometimes this stems from genuine disappointment at an artist compromising their output for an extra dollar – see David Guetta’s 2011 for more details.
More often however, such accusations ring of jealously and any commercial success inevitably brings its share of infantile criticism. Sell a T-Shirt and you make an enemy somewhere.
Perspective is often needed. After all, just because the Beatles recorded ‘She Loves You’ in German early in their careers – no really - their souls did not belong to the devil from that point onwards. They actually managed to make some okay stuff in the following decade.
But the balance can sometimes swing too far towards a record label’s demands and in such an instance, Talk Talk’s story is an inspiring one.
Throughout the 80s EMI Music was happy to see their band as frontrunners of the New Wave era. Things changed. Frontman Mark Hollis’ songwriting skills furiously evolved throughout this pop period. He began to include elements of jazz, ambient & gospel – culminating in the seminal Spirit of Eden.
Prior to its release, the two parties fell out over the uncommercial, lengthy song structures & recording times. A proposed album tour was also dismissed for fear the sound could not be faithfully recreated live. The end of the line came when EMI remixed a single without Hollis’ permission.
These were not the petty concerns of rockstars, which as absurd as it seems now, Talk Talk were at the time. Their refusal was simply born out of a strong desire to protect their art.
Accordingly, the later output under the more laissez-faire Polydor label refuses to be boxed into genres – so critics clumsily created one which stuck – Post Rock.
Whenever you listen to late-era Talk Talk the musical integrity shines through every pore of the work. They were true engineers of sound and the texture of every note was agonised over in search of perfection. It’s something sadly missing in much of today’s mainstream music production – Elbow and The National being notable exceptions.
The band went on to produce the equally mesmeric Laughing Stock before parting ways. Hollis produced a self-titled solo album, before withdrawing himself from the public eye, taking his quiet sublimity with him.
It’s a shame those later albums are not held in the esteem they deserve as a pinnacle of British music history. But Hollis wasn’t seeking nationwide adulation. He just wanted to make something true to himself. It’s an oft repeated glib sentiment but it’s a rarer sincere intention than we might suspect in a world of competing demands. The relegation of everything else for the music’s sake is in the DNA of these records and after spending time with them you increasingly begin to notice its absence elsewhere.
Bands often clash with their labels and should be forgiven in their early years for picking which battles to fight over creative control. Thank god Talk Talk picked this one.
Aside from Germany’s Gas, this list accidentally became an all Scandinavian affair. Well, perhaps this wasn’t such a conincidence.
It seems that so much from this corner of the world evokes the region’s bleak, icy beauty without losing a certain kindling quality. Some great tracks here, not least Deaf Center’s down-tempo orchestral number.
