Orange Juice Coals To Newcastle (Domino)
5/5
By: Matt Tomiak
For a band with such a short-lived recording career – just over two and a half years elapsed between the release of the first and fourth/final Orange Juice studio albums- Coals to Newcastle represents an exhaustive retrospective. With a mammoth 125 track haul spread across 6 CDs plus a DVD, Domino Records aren’t leaving too many stones unturned in documenting the legacy of the Glaswegian post-punk icons.
CD1, The Glasgow School, is an extended version of the introductory compilation first unveiled by Domino in 2005, which commences with a ramshackle early interpretation of 1980 debut single ‘Falling And Laughing’. Raw it might be, but characteristic of the band’s primitive, gripping appeal; tremeloing guitar parts, a prominent hurtling bassline and singer Edwyn Collins’ enigmatic warble. Stuart Maconie once wrote that origins of The Smiths’ seismic impact on British alternative music in the early 1980s could be traced to Morrissey announcing himself to the world with six words at the start of ‘This Charming Man’ (‘punctured bicycle on a hillside, desolate’), of which four, it seemed, had never appeared in a pop song ever before. There’s something similar at work as Collins haughtily chirps ‘You must think me very naïve’ by way of introduction here. The next single, ‘Blue Boy’, brings resolve to their fey, floppy-fringed blueprint, along with ‘Louise Louise’ demonstrating both sound pop credentials and, typically of Collins’ clued-up musical sensibility, a knowing nod to Richard Berry’s much-covered 50s rock and roll touchstone ‘Louie Louie.’
CD 2 is 1982 debut You Can't Hide Your Love Forever now beefed up to 20 tracks; tenacious and polished in comparison with the band’s rather more unrefined incarnation featured on the first disc. ‘Wan Light’ shines a torch on the sway Orange Juice clearly held on subsequent great British bands like Belle and Sebastian, whilst ‘Tender Object’ is an exemplary outlet for Collins’ wistful and literate songwriting (‘remembering with deep regret/How we used to dance in a discothèque.’) Now comprising a new line-up, they really hit their stride on confident second album ‘Rip It Up’, scoring their biggest chart hit on home turf with the title track. ‘A Million Pleading Faces’ assimilated soul and Afrobeat influences; ‘I Can’t Help Myself’ references The Four Tops and possesses a fitting celebratory Motown feel.
Orange Juice’s third, Texas Fever (1984) started life as a mini album but is expanded here to 18 tracks, slickly accessible in a manner that reflects the burgeoning and ever-more commercially viable New Wave movement as spearheaded in the US by Talking Heads. Arriving later the same year, The Orange Juice is a brooding swansong, although the inclusion of ‘What Presence’, ‘Lean Period’ and ‘A Little Too Sensitive’ proved Collins hadn’t lost his melodic nous even if by this juncture they were no longer being rewarded with chart success.
A further disc of rarities and BBC Sessions complete the collection, with the DVD offering a selection of videos (‘Rip It Up’ might be their best known tune, but the video is endearingly slapdash, featuring the band larking around drizzly central London streets dressed first in Hawaiian shirts and later scuba diving equipment) in addition to live and Old Grey Whistle Test television appearances.
There’s a lot to get through in Coals To Newcastle, and it certainly isn’t designed to be consumed in a single sitting. As a thorough homage to a hugely noteworthy band however, there’s really very little (well, nothing) missing, and plenty to savour.
Artists in this article: Orange Juice
Your Feedback
Login to post your comment