Page 37 - the Noise October 2017

BY BEVERLEY NAPALM
SOCCER MOMMY collection
(Fat Possum Records)
As summer winds down I find myself turning to wistful Autumnal thoughts. Sometimes around this time of year, I miss being in England. The nights getting a little nippy, the smell of bonfires, striped sweaters, and rosy cheeks. Y’know. Teenage stuff. It’s a feeling en- hanced by listening to the lilting charisma of Soccer Mommy, that to me sounds like the perfect soundtrack to the seasons changing. Recently named by New York Times as one of the most important current 25 female fronted bands, it would appear I am not the only one to fall for the charms of Sophie Allison (a.k.a. Soccer Mommy). I must admit, when I first saw the band name in print, before actually hearing the music, I had my own misconceptions about what it would sound like. I imagined it would be kind of punky for some reason? I’m glad I was wrong. It’s a name that sticks in my craw somewhat. But what’s in a name?
The music of Soccer Mommy harkens back to the golden age of ‘90s indie, brimming with chiming guitars, uncluttered arrangements, and gentle percussion. The band remains purposely sparse, serving as the vehicle to highlight the warm and inviting vocals of Ms. Allison. And her vocals are fantastic. At just 20 years old, and still in school, it’s a bright and promising start.
The songs on this, her debut album, I believe are all re-recorded band versions of home-fi bedroom hits, and were previously self-released on cassettes and 7-inch vinyl. Picked up by Fat Possum Records, a label I previously equated with a more raucous rock’n’roll output (The Black Keys for example, who Soccer Mommy don’t sound anything like). I don’t doubt this record will have a great distribution and will at least have the opportunity to get out of the bedroom and reach the indie tastemakers on a nationwide level.
Like many operating within similar genres, Soccer Mommy’s strengths lie in a perceived weaknesses. It’s gentle, hushed and naïve. And delightfully fragile, confessional, and a wee bit mopey sounding.
The percussion-less album opener “Allison” is a case in point. Self-referencing possibly? Self-deprecating, most definitely. “Allison put down your sword / Give up what you’re fight- ing for.” The dreamy vocals are so sincere and achingly delivered they almost bring a lump to the throat. The albums second pick “Try” is far bouncier and illuminating, with a floaty and twiddly lead guitar running throughout, politely driving earworms into your brain in a delightfully unobtrusive manner. Indeed, the lead guitar throughout the whole album serves as more of a melodic counterpoint to the vocals than how most (men) would ap- proach a guitar lead. There’s no “look at me” crotch thrusting histrionics going down here. There’s no need.
Lyrically it is easy to dismiss the crush-worthy themes as adolescent fluff. After all Ms. Al- lison is barely out of her teens, so it’s to be expected. But the songs are great, and with youth on her side, I can see Soccer Mommy blossoming into more weighty themed songs with time.
There’s not much detrimental I can say about this other than at just nine songs and not even troubling the half hour mark, I simply wish there was a little more. It’s such a delightful and easy listen. Recommended. sopharela.bandcamp.com
THE FALL
New Facts Emerge (Cherry Red Records)
There is always something magical about a new Fall LP. You may not appreciate, accept, or realize so on first listen, but the fact The Fall even exist at this point in time is a triumph against all odds and sanity.
The Fall has existed since 1977, and even amidst the leather clad spiky heyday of punk they kicked against the flow and stood resolutely against everything. Especially among their supposed peers. This is their 32nd full-length studio album. Many who can’t keep up have given up, but for the faithful, there is always much to explore on any Fall LP. I wish I was hearing this for the first time having never heard the band before because it is still truly baffling music.
The album starts with “Segue” with “singer” Mark E Smith, (I use the term singer loosely), stumbling around with a Dictaphone sounding like a drunken uncle at a wedding recep- tion. It is one of his set pieces at this point of his career, granted, but always a delight to experience. From the lo-fi mumbled opening the band launch into “Fol De Rol,” a driving riff heavy and taut Stooge-ish thrash. There has always been hypnotic repetition within the Falls music – (the b-side of their very first single was called “Repetition”), and it sonically provided the backdrop that has always enabled Mark E Smith to rant and rave, with an ap- parent rudderless disregard for vocal technique. It shouldn’t work, but it somehow almost always does. Smith, now 60, still has a unique vision. And his vocals, although ravaged by four decades of well documented amphetamine and alcohol abuse sound like no other. It’s fascinating to play this new album alongside his earlier works and hear how his voice has changed. And then bleakly contemplate the state his liver must be in by now.
Much of his current vocal performances remind me of a barking dog to be honest. That isn’t a put down by any means. I think his recent vocal performances have been deranged to the point of genius. There isn’t a lyric sheet (there have never been lyric sheets), and as such it’s impossible to decipher the bulk of the vocals. Which doesn’t bother me any, but I imagine could be frustrating for some. “Second House Now” starts with a rockabilly riff, one of Smith’s favorite genres the Fall has mined throughout their lengthy career, and strangely has provided some of their most cherished works. “O! Zztrrkk Man” sounds like a rehearsal tape that Smith is nonchalantly singing along to in the bath.
Likewise album closer, “Nine Out Of Ten” is just the sound of a lone electric guitar being casually strummed for nine minutes with Smith occasionally chiming in with some of the more legible vocal performances of the album. It’s a boldness I respect because the Fall has always sounded out of step and even wrong sounding when placed alongside more con- ventional alternative bands. It’s not for everyone, but if you can tune your ears to a similar wavelength as Mark E Smith you will most likely open a door to a world that you never even knew existed before.
And if Smith’s liver holds up, I am already looking forward to album number 33.
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