(Vinyl Love is a series of posts that quite simply lists, describes, and displays the pieces in my growing vinyl collection. You can bet that each record was given a spin during the drafting of each corresponding post.)
Artist: The Clientele Album Title: Bonfires on the heath Year released: 2009 Year reissued: 2017 Details: standard black vinyl
The skinny: Happy new year everyone! I’m starting off my blogging year by returning to the series I started back in November, sharing the copies in my vinyl collection of The Clientele’s LPs. Originally released in 2009, “Bonfires on the heath” was the London-based dream pop quartet’s 5th studio album. It continued moseying on down the beautiful road they’d been thus far paving, mixing jangly atmospherics with hazy, technicolour psychedelics. I purchased this bare-bones Merge records reissue back in 2017 from Amazon’s UK platform*, a few weeks after I ordered the 10th anniversary reissue of The Clientele’s previous album. “Bonfires” is a total mood record, one that I am always ready to face.
Standout track: “Bonfires on the heath”
*Something I was doing with regularity back in those days because they had access to records more in line with my tastes and it was still relatively affordable, even with the shipping across the ocean and the exchange rate.
Where were you when you first heard that OJ was acquitted? When the challenger shuttle exploded? When Ben Johnson tested positive for steroid use? When the first plane crashed into the World Trade Centre?
History is filled with these big transcendental moments that ‘everyone’ vividly remembers and inevitably remembers exactly where they were and what they were doing when they heard about it, saw it on television, etc. Similarly big musical history moments include the Milli Vanilli lip synch debacle, Michael Jackson and the dangling baby, and of course all those iconic musician deaths, like Kurt Cobain’s overdose and John Lennon’s murder. For me, the heart attack death of Joe Strummer could also be categorized as one of these moments.
On December 23rd, 2002, twenty-three years ago today, I was working a shift at my call centre job. I had gotten special permission to work out of the Toronto call centre, something I would do for a couple of years after that because it allowed Victoria and I to make the trip down from Ottawa a few days before Christmas and spend more time with her mother. That first Monday I was sat at an empty cubicle in a quad of highly seasoned call centre agents and the mood was jovial and festive. There were treats and laughter and music and I was not at all excluded from the in-between call festivities. Luckily for me, my neighbour had her radio station tuned EDGE 102, the modern rock station I used to tune in to before moving to Ottawa, which meant a more than tolerable soundtrack. At some point during the Dean Blundell morning show, the news was shared about Joe Strummer’s death the day before and they followed it by playing “London calling”.
At that time, I was still only a casual Clash fan, really only knowing the hits, but I definitely knew who Strummer was, what he stood for, and his importance to not just to alternative rock, but all of rock history. And I couldn’t help but feel some sadness at knowing the punk rock icon was no longer with us.
A handful of years later, I had changed jobs for better pay and for work more in line with my writing background. I had also become much more versed in The Clash’s back catalogue but hadn’t really delved into Strummer’s solo work, nor his material recorded with his new band, The Mescaleros. One of my new work colleagues, Ian, a fellow music nerd who had grown up in the Montreal punk and record store scene, was really keen to change this. He loaned me his CD copy of “Streetcore”, which, he explained, was the final album by Joe Strummer and his Messcaleros. It was the album Strummer was working on when he died and was released posthumously the following year. I listened to it a couple of times through at work before bringing it home to rip myself a copy. Yeah, I loved it, just like Ian knew I would.
“And the rain came in from the wide blue yonder
I thought you and me might wander
Oh, Coma Girl and the excitement gang
Mona Lisa on a motorcycle gang”
“Coma girl” starts off the album with a heart racing guitar line and Strummer’s rough-hewn vocals but when the bopping and jiving bass line pops, you know it’s not going to be just a straightforward rock song. Indeed, Strummer’s love for ska and reggae shines brightly through on this one. It’s full of joy and sunshine. The girl of the title is cool for cats, hanging tough at a music festival and taking it all in, said to be based on Strummer’s daughter, who at times joined him on tour. Even if it’s not true, it’s a compelling image to go along with an instantly replayable and relatable track. So effortlessly good.
For the rest of the Best tunes of 2003 list, click here.
Looking back over the pages on this site, I’ve come to realize that Pulp hasn’t gotten near enough love on this blog*, especially given how much I’ve listened to them, sang along with them, and danced to their tunes over the years. Back in 2018, I did publish some words on my top five favourite tunes by the band and in that post, explained how my first time listening to the group in earnest was when I saw them opening for Blur at Toronto’s Phoenix Concert Theatre back in the fall of 1994. I expressed how clueless we all were when Jarvis Cocker and his five bandmates, Russell Senior, Candida Doyle, Nick Banks, Steve Mackey, and Mark Webber, strode on to the stage and proceeded to blow us all away. We all went out to buy their 4th album “His ’n’ hers” the next day and played the hell out of it. Shortly afterwards, “Common people” hit the airwaves and Britpop exploded and Pulp became legendary. I continued following them through the release of three more albums and right up to their dissolution in 2002.
Frontman Jarvis remained relatively active, released a couple of solo albums and an additional album with a new band called Jarv Is, but the other members of Pulp were relatively quiet, at least in terms of the music industry. The group reformed in 2011 and toured extensively for the next couple of years before calling it quits again in 2013. In 2022, they announced they would be re-forming again** but before they were able to play a single show, bassist Steve Mackey passed away in March 2023 after being hospitalized with an undisclosed illness. The first run of their latest reunion shows were wildly successful, once again taking them all over the world, including a larger spate in North America that included two sold out shows in Toronto, one of which I was hoping to attend with my friend Tim***. But sadly, I never made it.
Last December, Pulp announced they were signing on to Rough Trade records, which tipped off that we might finally get an 8th studio album, new material, hints of which had been heard at those aforementioned shows. When “More” was announced and went up for pre-sales on the internet earlier this year, I immediately put in for a copy on vinyl. I had no idea what I was going to get but I had a feeling it was going to be special. Thankfully for me, I was right. “More” isn’t just any old reunion album. It is the example by which any group that had their heyday thirty years ago and thinking of giving it another go should follow. This isn’t a retread of old ground or a resurrecting of old ghosts. This is a veteran band that had more to say and more to contribute.
“More” is Pulp giving us more of what they always did best, an older and wiser Pulp that still has an eye on the world like no other. It is eleven voyages and colourful tales, each one worth delving deeply into but as usual, I’ve put together three picks for you as a starting point.
“Grown ups”: “And I am not aging. No, I am just ripening. And life’s too short to drink bad wine and that’s frightening.” With a staccato guitar riff that is reminiscent of a cross between “Roxanne” and “(I just) Died in your arms”, “Grown ups” is a raucous bounce and jive. It’s a six minute riff on being a grown up, looked at the through the eyes of youth and later by contemporaries. In Cocker’s hands, the subject matter becomes laughable and almost cool in its awkward existence. He delivers the diatribe much like he did in songs thirty years ago but back then, it was sordid tales of extramarital affairs and slumming because it was cool. “Why am I telling you this story? I don’t remember.” Just crank up the tune and dance along.
“Got to have love”: “Without love, you’re just making a fool of yourself. Without love, you’re just jerking off inside someone else.” I mean, yeah, he ain’t lying. Though I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone else put it quite that way. And that’s what makes Jarvis such a great lyricist, as well as a great showman – he’s pretty fearless and damned honest. But if you weren’t listening closely you could easily miss gems like these, especially here. “You got to have love” sounds like a gigantic party and ready-made dance floor filler. The sampled vocal refrain and gang strings just scream disco hit and celebration. A beat that doesn’t quit and cymbal crashes that explode with confetti. You wanted more Pulp, right? Well they certainly deliver here.
“Spike island”: “I was born to perform. It’s a calling. I exist to do this, shouting and pointing.” You think Jarvis is talking about himself? Sure is. The advanced first single off “More” was the first piece of new music from Pulp in more than a decade and it was a welcome sweet sound for sore ears. Purportedly, the song takes for its subject Cocker’s feelings towards Pulp’s getting back together and an optimism towards the future. Meanwhile, the song’s title and chorus were inspired by a legendary Stone Roses gig that took place just around the time that Pulp hitting their stride in the mid-90s. It’s got slide guitar, a bold bass, unbreakable beat, and plenty of swagger for good measure. “Spike island” pronounced in capital letters that Pulp was indeed back.
*Before this post, there’s been only a measly three out of the close to one thousand posts that I’ve published since this blog’s inception in spring 2017.
**With the entire “Different Class” era lineup, excepting of course Russell Senior.
***Lucky jerk somehow made it to both shows and by all accounts they were both phenomenal.
We’ll be back before you know it with album #2. In the meantime, here are the previous albums in this list:
My (life in) music lists 