Wednesday 14 May 2008

TELEVISION – MARQUEE MOON (ELEKTRA)


TELEVISION – MARQUEE MOON (ELEKTRA)

One of my greatest moments in the name of indie rock was the time I subtly forced the girlfriend of the drummer from Razorlight to listen to Marquee Moon.  At first when I pressed play on the record and “See No Evil” began rolling her response was an enthusiastic “oh great The Futureheads”.  With that her response and expression soon changed as I took her to another place, in a direction unexpected.  And then a few tracks later we reached the centrepiece of the album: the title track.

When Johnny Borrell “wrote” and released “In The Morning” for me it was one of the most disgusting and heinous gestures by a mainstream “indie” band ever soiled onto tape.  Over the course of three or so minutes he performed wholesale robbery of “Marquee Moon” and arrogantly attempted to pass it off as his own.  And yet nobody kicked off or called him up on it.  Maybe it was because he played it so shoddily or maybe it was just that they saw him for the joke and fraud that he was and remains.  Back to the moment though and how I nearly wore my finger out pointing to the stereo each time during the ten minutes of the track that Television invented music that was still being rifled almost thirty years later.  It was a gesture akin to Woody Allen bringing out Marshall McLuhan in Annie Hall.

Marquee Moon was released in February 1977.  By that time Richard Hell had since departed the band but as the act pushed things forward they became the first band of the punk era to solidly play CBGBs and help set up what turned out to be one of the most influential scenes of any period.  Originally coming from other parts of the country, this band was now New York through and through as they rinsed out an urban album that reflected the tough and colourful existence afforded them.  They arrived ten years after the Velvet Underground benefiting from all that had been learned/discovered in their existence.

Television actually sound more post-punk than punk.  Their music is smarter, exhibiting a skill set and patience that their apparent three chord peers did not share.  The eight tracks on this album are measured and cool, a more mature pulse and reflection of movements from the city.

It begins with “See No Evil” and the track my ex-colleague mistook as being The Futureheads.  In a way I do see that, it’s a great and lively song with snap urgency and a satisfying hook.  The build is brilliant and the length lean.  It marks an amazing arrival.

Television was always a band with a big sound.  The intros into songs were impressively grandiose on a sensible level as the arriving vocals of Tom Verlaine snappily cut through proceedings as the surrounding music rolls out in textured fashion often meandering in unexpected directions.  That was reason why songs became so extended.

Perhaps the most masterful display of musicianship on the album is the entry into “Friction” and the descending sound of the guitar, a noise that had never been heard before.  Here is Marquee Moon’s exotic landing.  And yet dare I suggest it not that difficult to perform, what was the test/difficulty was tapping into the mindset and space to try such a thing.  Then on top of such a standout moment there was still room within the song to include a strong and smart hook/chorus.  As the song then enters its free space you witness a wonderful hybrid and mid point between Talking Heads and Sonic Youth.  This is playing a person can easily lose their shit too.

In the title track the band has one of the greatest achievements in rock music.  “Marquee Moon” is the most compact ten minute song in the history of modern music.  This song feels like a late night nocturnal journey around the slums of New York, revealing the miniscule riches that can be found and are on offer.  The glowing repetition of the duelling guitars is a defining pulse was the song powers to its eventual pay off.  This was the reinvention of rock complete with resolution and morning sun like conclusion/completion.  With listening comes maturity.  Lost becomes found.

As the record continues on the second side it exhibits itself as being both post and modern with tracks that touch upon the Rolling Stones sound (“Guiding Light”) while displaying the kind of direction and template that Gang Of Four would eventually become renowned for (“Elevation”).

The album serves host to two singles with the title track having been the first and “Prove It” following as a second.  Here was the band exhibiting intense and aggressive gestures via one of their longest standing compositions.  There is a stark nonchalance at play as the song actually begins to resemble “Stand By Me” until after much gesticulation from Verlaine he ends things on the words “this case is closed.”

It all ends appropriately with “Torn Curtain” and a theatrical workout, which actually would not feel out of place in a Hitchcock universe.  The song serves as a suitable outro although there is much argument that it drags but that’s fine when closing an album.  Kicking off after a jazz like drumroll, in come foreign keys followed by an almost Pink Floyd-esqe guitar part as slowly the song grows in a stabbing/lurching manner, seemingly in nostalgic fashion for Verlaine.  Then as the guitar screams like a drowning cat there is suggestion to “burn it down”, to wreck was just accomplished.  And in many ways that is ultimately what happened.

Then they are gone.

This is how you win at art rock.

Thesaurus moment:

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