CARDIACS: THE SEASIDE (1984)
1) Jibber And Twitch; 2) Gena
Lollabridgida; 3) Hello Mr. Sparrow; 4) It's A Lovely Day; 5) Wooden Fish On
Wheels; 6) Hope Day; 7) To Go Off And Things; 8) Ice A Spot And A Dot On The
Dog; 9) R.E.S.
Finally! A Cardiacs album that does not sound as
if coming to you out of the depths of a concrete bunker — despite also having
originally been produced only in cassette form. The original track listing
contained 13 titles; however, when the album was finally released on CD in
1995, four of them were omitted under the pretext that the master tapes were
lost. More likely, since three of these four songs would later be re-recorded
for other Cardiacs albums, the omission was intentional (assuming Smith may
have thought of the earlier versions as inferior). In any case, the real early versions of ʻIs This The
Lifeʼ and ʻNurses Whispering Versesʼ can be found on Toy World, in all their lowest-fiest glory.
Anyway, 9 tracks with a total running length of
35 minutes seems quite appropriate for a record like this, because The Seaside is far from the best that
the band has to offer. A key problem here is monotony: most of the tracks are
speedy ska-punk ditties with similar-sounding keyboard tones and
similar-sounding hysterical vocals, distinguished only by the number of
different unpredictable interludes that Smith and co. throw in seemingly at
random. And while the speedy delivery makes things superficially fun, sometimes
the songs zip by (even the long ones!) in such a flurry rage that you find it very hard to concentrate on the melodic
aspect.
As you slowly get adjusted to the «jibber and
twitch» (name of the first track, but I wouldn't mind if it were the title of
the entire record), the fun aspect eventually prevails over the monotony, but
the album remains a pretty lightweight affair — like an incessant ping-pong
game with occasional detours into other sport areas, or like a corny vaudeville
show locked in a state of hyperdrive. I have no idea what the songs are «about»
(lyrics are not included, and there's little hope of ever making out Smith's
words), but in any case, words are clearly much less important here than the
music, and the music does not lend itself to inspired description.
Even when you come across something that could
be defined as a «catchy riff», for instance, the little bouncy organ phrase
that drives ʻR.E.S.ʼ, its catchiness does not matter much on its own, because
you could very well encounter any such phrase on Sesame Street or the opening
credits to a comic TV show. What matters is that within the same ʻR.E.S.ʼ you
also have a couple of tricky jazz interludes with varying tempos and a slow-moving progressive rock part
with a moody guitar solo that sounds right out of Steve Hackett's textbook. By
the end, as you go into drunk waltz tempo, there's hardly anything left in the
world that could surprise you.
Essentially, it's all fun, but it's all also
rather shallow — once you get over the amazement at how nifty these guys are
(and they are still no niftier than Frank Zappa, whose Absolutely Free album from as far away as 1967 could be called a
distant ideological forefather), the tunes do not prove much of anything,
except that there's, you know, a reason
why people do not usually combine ska, punk, jazz, and classical influences
within the same track — just as there's a reason why you rarely put meat,
fruit, vegetables, and chocolate in the same dish. It's curious and instructive
to take a taste, but eventually you'll probably just have to accept that some things don't click too well when
forcefully synthesized.
That said, there are different ways to
synthesize stuff, and The Seaside
is, after all, the Cardiacs still in their original stage, youthful and
enthusiastic and overdriven and experimental beyond measure. In addition, this
is also a transitional album, with Marc Cawthra on his way out and William D.
Drake on his way in, so some of the fussiness may be explained by a generally
confused state of the band at the time — although, granted, that is a flimsy
excuse, because Cardiacs are by their very nature an eternally confused and
confusing band.
OK then, let's see whether you will like the next releases when Zappisms will mutate into GentleGiantisms, followed by Sparksisms and Fautisms. ;-)
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