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| GOD BLESS yer, Roy Castle, beat that f--ing cancer, because there's trouble at t'pressing plant, and we may need you come Christmas. And you, boy, at the back, stop sneering. No, really, come on, wipe that pathetic Wedding Present sneer off your face. Because when all else fails, there is The Wedding Present. When the earth dies screaming, civilisation is ablaze, and all that we hold dear smoulders on a bonfire of our own making, there will be...The Wedding Present. Good, frankly. That 1992 elevates David Lewis Gedge and his earnest, practically-coiffured mates in denim jackets to the lofty height of RECORD BREAKERS is nowt to be sniffed (or sneeeered) at. You hate them for releasing 12 singles in 12 months because it is a gift of an idea that the Pet Shop Boys, KLF, The Beautiful South, Napalm Death and all the other eminent pop ironists never thought of. It is an ambitious scheme, a glorious scam, a direct hit on the bedroom collector's market to which the Pressoes so clearly belong, and, in addition, two fingers to The Man. Ever considered that? Who scared the shit out of their sponsors quite as much as The Wedding Present when they informed RCA that - hey, cheers for not tampering with our tatty albums thus far but, well, in '92 we will be delivering a dozen new singles for you to market, promote, plug, place and chart. Deal with it. All 'indie' bands are signed to Columbia now - how many of them actually test that eager-to-please 'artistic control' clause? Ooooh...none? Enough of my jaundiced views, I feel like a wino on Oxford Street with a sandwich board that says 'HANDS OFF THE WEDDING PRESENT'. Truth is, 'earnest' can be a dirty word, but not when escorted by 'tuneful' and 'inventive'. The Wedding Present are your junior Fall. Slightly obstinate, unnecessarily productive, solvent, just amorphous enough, uncool, Northern, BRILLIANT and taken for granted. Like good health. This, then, is their fourth LP. No it isn't. It's January to June, and a surprisingly coherent result considering the split production credit (Chris Nagle and Ian Broudie). The originals are confined to Side One, the wacky cover versions to Side Two - this unbalances 'Part One' as an album but we can live with that; it's a document rather than a concept, after all. You know The Wedding Present Sound, it's been blueprinted since about 1987; there is no brass section, there is no piano, there is no choir. Healthily scribbled upon by Steve |
Albini in 1990/91, the WP format follows a determined, love-me-or-loathe-me pattern, very much played down production-wise, dirty, untamed, frenetic guitar, well- concealed bass, kindly but fidgetsome drums and that magnificently unmannered Gedge vocal. It's an unholy shakedown all told; as indie as pop gets, as pop as indie gets. If only they were American. The Wedding Present oeuvre is noise, declaration, sweetness and fright; guitars tuned to stun; decent men making indecent music. Fancy a corkscrew ride that teeters past the leisurely, hay-feverish foxtrot of 'Come Play With Me', then rattles through 'Go-Go Dancer''s grimy fast-lane fury? These (six) small-time sonatas ache with the joys of spring and the discontent of winter, they race you to the ice cream van and kick you in the shins when you get there. 'Blue Eyes' is mongrel folk, a sterling celebration with the vintage Gedgism "I tried to call you/I guess you must've left by then". Make me cry! 'Three' is a knockabout lament, Gedge buried in the mix a bit but exercising his right to yodel, mutter, suck, sigh and howl at the moon simultaneously anyway. A colleague saw last month's 'Come Play With Me' on TOTP and thought it was an elaborate practical joke. On the contrary, this is a mighty, sad (yes, sad, let's reclaim that word shall we?), waltzing chest-beater whose plaintive yell ("When I saw you-o-ooo-ou") hits home like Jack Nicholson's crying scene in Five Easy Pieces. As for those covers on Two - a mixed bag. Altered Images' 'Think That It Might' gets an organic re-tread, Grogan's original saccharine harmonies allowing Gedge to really 'let go'. The Go-Betweens gem 'Cattle And Cane' gets its hair ruffled good and proper, while the Julee Cruise meisterwerk 'Falling' becomes the album's high-spot. Six minutes of immaculate source material dragged to the very lip of insanity for fun, it is the maelstrom's maelstrom and I love it like a brother. Quite why a band so casually revolutionary, so underhandedly unique are still critically patronised is beyond my ken. Other reverb dissidents get a fair crack of the whip, The Wedding Present a mere disinterested swat of the rolled-up newspaper. So God bless you, Roy Castle, and keep a window for us in December. You, boy, have six months to cotton on to this one. Things could get veeeeery dull after Christmas. (7) Andrew Collins |
REIGN ON, MY PARADE
New Musical Express 6 June 1992
THE WEDDING PRESENT
The Hit Parade Part One (RCA/All formats)