my bloody valentine - Isn't Anything

'Isn't Anything' - or to give it its Yorkshire translation: 'Int Owt', pronounced 'Intote' - was the debut album from my bloody valentine. As previously mentioned in these hallowed pages, it never reaches the delirious heights of 'you made me realise', but it gets close.

This album sees my bloody valentine trying to decide quite what they are: slow and shoegazy like 'Lose My Breath' and the actually quite good 'No More Sorry', or faster and rockier like '(When You Wake) You're Still In A Dream' and 'You Never Should'. Funnily enough, I prefer the speedier offerings although I've never been that keen on the single 'Feed Me With Your Kiss'. It adheres too closely to the 'you made me realise' template and comes across as a pale imitation.

As a whole the album works well with only a few skippable tracks. It also has what must be my favourite album cover of all time. My top track from 'Isn't Anything' must be 'Nothing Much To Lose'. Harsh guitars and drums but gentle harmonic voices: a match made in heaven.

In this continuing story of the history of my bloody valentine, will they stick to what they do best or will they fully embrace their shoegazing side? (I fully embraced my shoegazing side in the early 90s. Polished my shoes up to a nice shine and did some right shoegazing. But that's a different story. Just ask the judge.)

evlkeith

 

 

My Bloody Valentine - ep's 1988-1991

 

Let's start at the beginning. The first time I heard my bloody valentine was in 1988 on the John Peel radio show. The song was 'you made me realise'. Things were never the same for a young evlkeith. I won't even attempt to describe how great it is, but the emotional power it still holds over me, even to this day, is immense. It's one of those rare songs that I liked the first time I heard it and continued to like it for ever after. Give it a listen and see what you think.

They'd set the bar so high that they would struggle to even get close again. The singles are, as you'd expect seeing as though b-sides are also included, a bit of a mixed bag. The gems are: 'i believe', 'don't ask why' and 'off your face'. CD2 is a bit of a waste of time apart from 'how do you do it'.

So what do my bloody valentine sound like? At their best: guitars distorted beyond all recognition coupled with barely audible - and definitely undecipherable - harmonically entwined male and female voices. At their worst: a dirge worthy of PJ Harvey. I think I'm right in saying that shoegazing started with my bloody valentine. Not sure if that's a good thing or not. But without them we wouldn't have had Slowdive, Chapterhouse, Pale Saints and Lush.

'soon' is an oddity in this collection. The rest of the tracks are fairly timeless. And some of 'soon' is too. It contains many of the requisite my bloody valentine classic features but also contains a godawful riff that sounds like something from 'Step On' by The Happy Mondays placing it firmly in the early 90s. The drums are not much better either.

As with Leatherface's inability to ever topple the greatness of 'Razorblades and Aspirin', my bloody valentine had already hit their peak with 'you made me realise' but there were still some more glorious moments to come...

evlkeith

 

 

23. The Wedding Present - Don't Laugh

The Wedding Present were an enigma for me. They had everything I liked; they were gritty northerners with frantic jangly guitars and heartfelt lyrics, but apart from really liking the first couple of singles the rest of their output left me cold. Evlkeith bought me George Best for Christmas and it was all very jolly, but I just didn't get it.

It wasn't until I re-listened to the album about five years ago that everything clicked and I really started to love it. The finger shredding guitar style, the deadpan Yorkshire accent and the sentimental lyrics suddenly appealed to me. I think this goes to show that you have to be in the right mood to enjoy a bit of David Gedge. To be honest he was weird then, but looks even weirder as a middle aged Gedgy.

I originally heard 'Don't Laugh' on an old Peel session I think, and when I saw it included on the bonus tracks of the CD version of George Best, I rubbed my little hands together with glee. It's a kitchen sink drama, set in Huddersfield with a dog and a man with lacerated fingers from strumming his guitar too vigorously. The only question that remains is; why oh why did they call it George Best? They came from Leeds! To complete my enjoyment of the LP I stick a picture of Doncaster Rover's diminutive talisman over the top of Besty's image on the cover and pretend they called it 'James Coppinger'.

29. The Beatmasters featuring the Cookie Crew - Rok da House

If Vince Clarke created the template for house music and Farley Jackmaster Funk turned the vision into reality, then it was the Beatmasters that finally convinced us that this was the future. At the time it was impossible to get your hands on, or even hear any house music, and I'd begun to believe the whole thing was some fantasy created by the NME. My entire house collection at the time consisted of Daryl Pandy, Steve Silk Hurley and perhaps Abel Ramos, all taped from the radio; and initially I wasn't convinced.

Enter the Beatmasters featuring the Cookie Crew and suddenly I was convinced. The track fused hip-hop with an infectious house rhythm and then threw in the best piano sample in the history of music. The rest is history as house music went mainstream, turned into Acid House and then reverted back into commercial dance music. I doubt the Beatmasters have ever got any credit for this before, but they thoroughly deserve that all important number 29 spot.

48. Public Enemy - Rebel Without a Pause

When John Peel introduced us to hip-hop in the late eighties it was like a breath of fresh air, with the likes of Eric B and Rakim, De La Soul and of course Public Enemy. Sadly, things went downhill for the genre when the whole thing changed into rap and was either over-commercialised or over 'gansterised', and has been boring ever since.

Public Enemy were tough but socially aware, and as I trudged around the uber-depressing city of Hull in the early nineties 'It takes a Nation of Millions...' was an unlikely, but surprisingly relevant soundtrack playing on my walkman. This was passionate, intelligent and political music, but dressed up with tracksuits, trainers, jewellery, big clocks and lots of shouting 'Yeah Booooyeeeez!'. 'Rebel without a Pause' is my unoriginal choice from the album just for the lyrics, the James Brown samples and a bit of Flavour Flav action.