Wire / A Bell is a Cup until it is Struck (1988)

Wire was always hard to pin down with only a few words. Before punk, post-punk, industrial, new wave, no wave, and cold wave were household descriptors, Wire's music seemed to encompass qualities of all these styles seemingly at once. The band's sound was always a few steps ahead of whatever was popular (or unpopular), and Bell is no exception. It retains the obtuse lyrics, Dadaist sensibility, and lush aural textures that seasoned listeners appreciate. The 1970s punk aesthetic is replaced, at least on the surface, by more relaxed vocals and more sophisticated sonics, so the product is more accessible than ever. If you're looking for attitude, it's alive and kicking in the biting lyrics and musical content, too. There is even a hit single, "Kidney Bingos," a pop oddment destined for obscurity if not for an earworm chorus. Side two gets down to business and reminds you which group you're listening to, and completes the recipe for a good Wire record replete with aggressive noise, ghastly synths, and buzzing guitars aplenty. It's a diverse collection of songs that will appeal slyly to listeners more accustomed to conventional rock and electronic music, while still delivering the choice alternative goods to the faithful.

Pillars #2: Psychedelic Rock - The Teardrop Explodes / Wilder (1981)

It’s a fitting title: Wilder is a more diverse, experimental, and, well, wilder effort than the band’s debut. The songwriting goes down a darker path, too, both lyrically and sonically. Dave Balfe’s keyboards and synth loops are more prominent than on Kilimanjaro, sometimes the only accompaniment to a troubled, mumbling Cope. Haunting aural textures and shifting dynamics create a lost, paranoid, and decidedly psychedelic atmosphere that is supported by the album's fragmented track sequence. Cracking singles like side-two opener “Passionate Friend” showcase punchy arrangements and act as buoys between bouts of strangeness, while tracks like “Tiny Children” and “…And The Fighting Takes Over” move into quieter, more nebulous spaces of druggy, introspective beauty and confusion. I love the wry lyrics and paranoid mood of "Like Leila Khaled Said" and Police-ish multilayer drumming of "Seven Views of Jerusalem." The latest CD release has bonus tracks that may interest serious fans, but they are nonessential and ultimately ruin the record’s continuity. Original sequencing stops at “The Great Dominion,” a sweeping closer to the brilliant’s group’s short career. The song has an epic scope somewhere between a great accomplishment and a hint of what could have been. Either way, it's Cope's greatest moment on wax and a remarkable accomplishment for a pop record. 

10,000 Maniacs / MTV Unplugged (1993)

I first heard 10,000 Maniacs when I was young and a new kid named Dane moved in down the block. His parents were younger than mine and instead of having record collections laden with albums by the Beatles and Stones, they had a closet filled with cassette tapes of newer, different music that I had never heard. One afternoon we walked in the house and his mom was listening to the recently recorded 10,000 Maniacs MTV Unplugged. The song was "Hey Jack Kerouac" and I was hooked. Dane made fun of me for complementing his mom's wimpy acoustic music, although neither of us had any idea who Jack Kerouac was.

The Maniacs' studio output is superb, but the Unplugged set does a fine job of capturing the group's grown-up essence on disc. Some of what they do here, mostly the cuts from Our Time in Eden, are not a whole lot different than their studio counterparts. But other arrangements are a major departure from the jangly, danceable college rock we're all familiar with. I think it's a change which works well, and one which reflects the mature polish of band's final studio album. A dark mood pervades the disc that is better suited to expressing the songs' lyrical content. The occasion has a heavy atmosphere, inspiring a bittersweet feeling somewhere between a graduation and a funeral. That inertia could stem from Merchant's impending departure, marking an end to the band and the era. Either way, the theme of farewell is underscored by a solemn but joyful delivery, as well as the audience's gratuitous appreciation between tracks which seems to say thank you and goodbye all at once.

The group is supported by a modest orchestra of vocalists, strings, and winds, plus the mandolin, pipe organ, and slide guitar. This diverse ensemble is arranged with a nod to sparse utility, never overpowering Merchant's vocals or overpowering the songs themselves. Sophisticated contours of the Maniacs' trademark folk-pop hybrid are brought to the fore and the best qualities of the songwriting - interplay between melody and lyrics, vocalist and instrumentation - are laid before listeners with stark new contrasts of impact and subtlety. Each song has different instrumentation so listening to the whole album is very engaging and never monotonous. Songs like "Hey Jack Kerouac" and "Because the Night" are rendered with fresh enthusiasm and a rich new aural textures. "Eat for Two" is finally given a musical treatment that is appropriate for its lyrics. The performances are patient and relaxed, allowing the music plenty of space to bloom. For a recording of a taped television appearance, the audio quality is surprisingly good, too. 

For writing on other Maniacal topics, I recommend Don Ignacio's 10,000 Maniacs page.
To purchase this album on the format of your choice, try hitting up a seller at Discogs.com