The Skids - The Absolute Game
#367
Highlights:
Hurry On Boys
Circus Games
The Devils Decade
Out of Town
The Children Saw the Shame
A Woman in Winter.
See, this is exactly why this group is so valuable. In 1983, I briefly fell in love with a band called Big Country. At first, they were just some guys whose guitars sounded like bagpipes with a goofy video on MTV, then I bought the album and realized they were an intensely emotional, guitar-driven, high energy Scottish band (whose guitars sounded like bagpipes, with goofy videos on MTV). I followed the swift arc of their career (big album, less big album, vanished) and then didn’t think about them much until my first teaching job, a one year gig at a private Catholic high school. During an introductory exercise in an Acting class, one very likable kid confessed that he never felt like he fit in “because I listen to weird music like Big Country and R.E.M.” I knew then I’d found my calling; 32 years later, that guy’s a regional reporter for NPR, and I’m still teaching.
Anyway, Stuart Adamson was the voice of Big Country, not only the yelping, passionate singer, but the guy playing those bagpipe guitars. He was also a troubled soul who ended his own life after an alcoholic binge during a painful breakup in 2001. I am just now finding out, via this assigned review, that Stuart Freaking Adamson had a band before Big Country, and I am so thankful for that. On to the album.
I’m going to mention the last track first because, while it’s not the best song, it feels like the most representative of this genre. The melody has a Scottish lilt, the guitar imitates a Scottish drone at times, and there’s lots of yelling. “Hey!” You can hear The Proclaimers in there, a bit. It’s energetic, slightly punky, slightly poppy: it’s Scottish New Wave!
The first single was the first track, “Circus Games,” and right away it hooked me with its sound and especially with Stuart Adamson’s guitar. The already gimmicky children’s voices on the chorus are forgivable because they’re followed by a total kick ass guitar riff. Apparently, the glories of Stuart Adamson’s voice were not yet known, as most of the lead vocals here are sung by Richard Jobson. Alas, he’s no Stuart. At times he sounds like an unfortunate combination of Bob Geldof and Buddy Holly.
Track four, “The Devils Decade” seems to be Jobson’s nadir, with a tuneless, wordless chorus repeated for the final 1:13. The obvious solution is to ignore the vocals altogether and revel in the wonder that is Adamson’s guitar. He hadn’t yet discovered the e-bow (or maybe it hadn’t been invented), but he’s still crazy good. Searing single note riffs alternate with proto-Edge power chords, and the bass and drums are solid enough to keep things rocking along. Truthfully, a lot of this reminds me of early U2, minus the introspective vibe and mystical lyricism. Better yet, The Alarm, a band that didn’t even exist in 1980. How about that?
The songwriting is a bit primal and undeveloped, which can be a good thing, as on “Out of Town,” which features solo breaks that will absolutely lift your spirits, followed by growly, anthemic verses that are just… OK. But hey, I’m not listening to the vocals anyway! Instead, I’m hearing how beautifully the martial drumming and hypnotic bassline accompany those heavenly ringing guitar tones, and when the singer repeats the title eight times as fast as he can, I’m willing to accept it, even nod my head along with him. The lyrics are what you’d pretty much expect from post-punk: lots of anti-war, anti-violence, anti-bad people. A song like “The Children Saw the Shame” seems to have something to say, but since about 75% of it is repetition of the title, I didn’t quite catch what. Plus, I was digging Adamson’s nifty guitar work so much, I didn’t care.
There are hints of what’s to come later, such as the stellar opening of “A Woman in Winter” with those Celtic “whoa-ah-hey-oh-whoa” vocals that would’ve fit right onto the first Big Country album. That track was released as the album’s third single and failed to chart, although I couldn’t tell you why. If I’d heard it on the radio in 1980, it would’ve absolutely caught my ear. Who knows, maybe I would’ve fallen even harder for Big Country three years later. Overall, I’m happy I found out about this album, and I’m definitely going to add a few of these tracks to a Big Country playlist for future reference. Thank you, Listening Post!
https://open.spotify.com/album/5Xe9LE9PYFP9ajXd1S7zYU?si=bH46Yl6qRlS4NzzHgqHFbw
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