The 1981 Listening Post - Skids - Joy

 Skids - Joy

#593

November 20 1981

The Skids

Joy

Genre: Celtic Rock

2.25

Requisite 80s cover:

I think there’s a law that Scottish bands HAVE to play “And the Band Played Waltzing Mathilda”. Much like Canada has a rule where Canadian bands have to be played on the radio to the tune of like, 25%, there is a tax ion Scotland. You wanna record? In a professional studio? Here, lads, ya gotta give us one of these. 

It’s boring here. 

I’m almost tempted to check in with Paul Zickler to see what he thought of this record since we both enjoyed that previous Skids record. He a bit more than I but this is…not great. 

I think it’s supposed to be some ode to Scotland and it definitely sounds Scottish but if I’m going for Celtic Rock I want The Pogues. Or Pogues level intrigue and drunkenness. 

Songs like “Challenge” leave me wanting and reaching for my phone to find Sea Shanties on TikTok. 

This thing just SOUNDS like it’s so important but there’s precious little to hold on to. Jobson’s Scotland is…really morose. Is Scotland really this sad? 

Let’s talk about Scotch.

I am a big fan of Laphroaig’s Quarter Cask. It’s finished in casks 1/4 the size of a normal one to recreate the taste that would come from traveling casks by donkey. They would only be able to transport quarter sized. So, it reacts to the barrel a lot more. It’s like drinking liquid smoke. It’s delicious. I only buy it every so often because I would run out too fast.

Lagavulin. That’s really quite excellent. I have 1/3 of a bottle in the house. Need to hide it before I have a party. There are certain people who will finish it before me. 

Macallan. Nice. Dynamic without being overwhelming.

Ardbeg. Yikes that stuff is good. 

Right now I have some blended scotch called Monkey Shoulder that I have been using for drinks like Blood & Sand. You know it? Oh, you should try it. Equal parts Scotch, Cherry liqueur, Orange Juice and Sweet Vermouth. I drop the vermouth by a touch cuz I am not a lover of Vermouth. Shake it. Garnish it with an Orange peel. 

Or you can have a Rob Roy. Good with blended or single malt. 

Oh, hey! There’s a perfect Rob Roy, which splits the Vermouth between dry and sweet.

Or the one I was drinking the other day. The Bobby Brown. Blended Scotch, Vermouth and a 1/2 ounce of Benedictine. 

I like this because I have benedictine for my favorite drink, La Louisiane, and, really, who needs a full bottle of Benedictine?

None of these will improve this record. But if you make enough of them it will take up the time to listen instead of writing a review. I’d rather listen to The Men They Couldn’t Hang. 

https://music.apple.com/us/album/joy-bonus-tracks/714743217

The 1980 Listening Post - The Skids - The Absolute Game

 The Skids - The Absolute Game

#367

by Paul Zickler

September 19 1980

The Skids

The Absolute Game

Genre: Scottish New Wave

Allen’s Rating: 4 out of 5

Paul’s Rating: 4.5 out of 5

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