April 15, 1999
Like the unparalleled Pere Ubu, The Fall is one of the longest-lived post-punk bands for a very good reason. Where the tough political vision of bands like Gang of Four, Wire and PiL fell apart during the glossy 80's, constant personnel changes and Mark E. Smith's seemingly bottomless well of cynicism and vitriol keeps The Fall alive and vital to this day. And honestly, there was just as much to be pissed off at during the 80's as the late 70's, particularly in the crumbling economy of Smith's own Britain.
While the 1977 birth of the band was a cacophony of repetitive atonal guitar noise, ramshackle drumming and Smith's yelping, declamatory vocals, the mid-80's found them softening their attack ever so slightly. (Rather like switching from fully automatic weapons to semi-automatic.) With Smith's new wife Brix in the band, they made their most accessible record in "This Nation's Saving Grace." Angular and funky in the vein of Gang Of Four but with a harsh experimental edge spun from early Velvet Underground and Kraut-weirdos Can, it's the kind of record you can dance to only if you're fond of dirty crystal meth.
In fact, Smith's pitch perfect homage to Can ("I Am Damo Suzuki") will send any Can fan into peals of laughter while providing a solid primer for those unfamiliar with the band, and there's even a skewed humor present in the repetitive lyrics in the strangely lovely acoustic "Paint Work", but it's likely unintentional. The bulk of "This Nation's Saving Grace" is bombastic, bitter and intense, but the chunky bass and synth-driven melodies of "Cruiser's Creek" and "LA" keep you coming back for second helpings. The relative accessibility and jittery funk of "Spoilt Victorian Child" and "What You Need" help make this album a perfect entry point into the wonderful and frightening world of The Fall.
- Jared O'Connor
cynical, danceable post-punk