For a band that released only two albums, The Housemartins were remarkably successful. The music doesn't sound grandiose, and the drums aren't packed with reverb, but they still made some elegant pop songs that stand the test of time. Often socialist, and very Northern, they picked up seven Top 40 singles, including a number 1 song that sounded completely different to what they usually recorded.
They were a very clever band, though potentially too clever - what I mean by that is they never took themselves too seriously, once claiming they were the fourth best band in Hull, amongst other jokes; clearly this was tongue in cheek, though sometimes to the point it wasn't that funny. But that shouldn't detract from the wonderful jangly guitar of Stan Cullimore, or the great singing of Paul Heaton. One thing I often notice when reading about the Housemartins is that they're merely an imitation of The Smiths, which I can't accept myself - just because they use jangly guitars doesn't mean they're copies.
London 0 Hull 4
Their debut album, London 0 Hull 4, is a nice little jangle pop record with a rather quirky title. Many newspapers used it as a headline, some incorrectly, for when Hull City were doing well in football fifteen years ago, and that's testament to how the Housemartins have held up since the album came out in 1986. It's a straightforward listen, with the songs largely not deviating from Cullimore's guitar playing and Heaton's falsetto-like vocals. Take Happy Hour, Get Up Off Our Knees and Anxious as examples, all masking their serious, critical messages with shimmering tunes. Yet the more sombre, piano-led Flag Day, and the reflective Think For A Minute, that are where the band truly shines. The latter is probably my favourite song on the album, in fact, the instrumental break is lovely. Even Reverend's Revenge, with its out of control harmonica, is great to listen to, and a fun intermission.
Arguably their two biggest songs
Happy Hour was the big single, surprising the band as it reached number 3 on the charts. It's about sexism, which is obvious when you read the lyrics but less obvious when you're mindlessly listening to it on the radio. This is how I first learnt of the Housemartins, as with many bands - hearing Happy Hour and considering it a fine song indeed. It's not the best on the album, indeed it's quite simple and poppy for me. Yet the part when the band sings "happy hour again, and again, and again", almost frantically, before the song closes out, is undeniably fantastic.
And then they got a number 1 single...Caravan of Love. They went a capella for this one, out of their love for R&B, and the result feels strangely natural. It's a stunning song, one which I love listening to, one which Heaton clearly loved performing on. It's quite evangelical and powerful, and deserves to be played on the radio more often. To be fair, it did nearly become the Christmas number 1, but a Jackie Wilson song put a stop to that.
The People Who Grinned Themselves to Death
In 1987, they released The People Who Grinned Themselves to Death, which isn't as good an album title as their first. I'll admit I've not listened to this album as much as London, and having gone through it for this blogpost, I personally consider it very similar to their debut. I Can't Put My Finger On It is a very catchy song with a slice of Spanish guitar, and other songs like Me And The Farmer and You Better Be Doubtful are lovely listens, the latter with a bouncy bass riff. There's even another harmonica dominated interlude in Pirate Aggro. Build is a spectacular way to end an album, with some wonderful backing vocals from drummer Dave Hemingway, and it's arguably one of the highlights on the album, closing out with a charming wintry keyboard.
The album is quite consistent, with no significant peaks or plateaus, not that it's a detriment to its quality. London was much the same, though arguably with catchier, more energetic songs, and I reckon it's my favourite out of the two. The People... wasn't as big as London - certified merely gold, not platinum - and that's a shame as it's almost as good.
Epilogue
Following one last single - There is Always Something There to Remind Me - they broke up in 1988 and went their own ways. Heaton and Hemingway went on to form The Beautiful South, a soul-tinged band whose sound is what I imagine the Housemartins would have adopted for their third album. Bassist Norman Cook had the biggest transformation, however - he joined various electronic groups such as Beats International, where he also had hits, before making solo work as Fatboy Slim and creating some fantastic big beat music in the 1990s. I too was surprised to learn that Fatboy Slim was initially part of a soulful post-punk band, and it's hard to imagine he was ever involved in the music's creation. Cook and Heaton did perform Happy Hour together at Glastonbury earlier this year, so there are very faint hopes of a reunion.
The Housemartins maybe weren't the most rebellious band to emerge from the post-punk scene, and they maybe weren't the most flashy or adventurous either. But their songs sing for themselves, and it would be a shame to miss out on some great songwriting, some lovely jangle, and the one-off a capella.
Someone requested a while back for me to include links to the music, so they can listen along:
Comments
Post a Comment