The Farmer's Boys - Whatever Is He Like?

Label: BACKS

Year of Release: 1982

C86, tweepop, shambling, indiepop, call it what you will... but the truth is that revisionism is rife on the topic in the mainstream press. Plenty of journalists would kid you that ton of bands parachuted into the scene taking everyone by surprise at some point in 1986, were spotted instantly by eagle-eyed scribes, then launched by the NME into the cruel world via the C86 compilation tape.

The reality isn't so straightforward. The roots of the sound, if you really want to create a controversial argument, could probably be traced back to the more childlike whimsy apparent in the underground of the British psychedelic movement. When Jeff Lynne was in the Idle Race and stuck pictures of Rupert the Bear to his guitar and wrote "I Like My Toys" and "The Birthday", he was predating Stephen Pastel's "return to the garden" mentality and obsession with pre-pubescent playthings by a fair two decades. If you want to leave bearded future members of ELO to one side for a second (and I see no reason why you should, but have no doubt that some of you will) then the slightly ramshackle, pie-eyed explorations of Mr Syd Barrett also predate the movement, as does "Buffalo Billy Can" by The Apple, and if I could actually be bothered to plough through my iTunes folder to dredge up other examples, I'm sure I easily could (and all this is without even mentioning The Velvet Underground, obviously).

Even before the 1986 date was rubber stamped on the sound, however, and Edwyn Collins and Orange Juice were named as the only natural precursors to the noise (a fact I suspect he actually resents to this day) there were jangly noises coming from low-rent recording studios all around the UK. Norwich scenesters The Farmer's Boys are by far one of the most overlooked travellers into the brave new jingle-jangle morning, despite having a few minor Top 75 hits when they eventually signed to EMI. "Whatever Is He Like?" is an early example on the Norwich based BACKS label which showcases their ability to return to the ethics of sixties pop whilst utilising the kind of quavering, hesitant vocals which sound definitively eighties. They weren't really pioneers - there were other people out there at the same time doing the same thing too - but they came so close to mainstream success that their subsequent erasure from music history is rather perplexing. Indeed, music journalist Simon Price states that "Muck It Out" is his ultimate "song I love that nobody has heard of". Yet "Muck It Out" only missed the Top 40 by eight places in 1983, selling quite a few copies in the process, and even being marketed with its own special shaped picture disc - I don't dispute that it has fallen by the wayside somewhat, but the fact that more people at indie discos are likely to recognise an uncharted Pastels A-side is a rather perverse state of affairs.

The Farmer's Boys eventually split in 1985 after their sound became more heavily produced and their work matured a little, but a website has now been constructed in praise of their work here. And not before time, I'd say.

Listen out for the hoover solo on the B-side "I Lack Concentration", by the way.

The Higsons - I Don't Want To Live With Monkeys

Label: Romans in Britain

Year of Release: 1981

There have to be precious few examples of comedians who had careers - however minor - as singers prior to finding fame as "funnymen" (as the tabloid press still seem keen to quaintly describe them).  Billy Connolly is obviously one exceedingly rare example, but the hair, the beard, and the periodically airy mannerisms are actually easy pointers to a folky past.  If you didn't already know that Billy plucked mandolins merrily and previously graced the folk circuit, you probably wouldn't be amazed if you were told.  Charlie Higson off "The Fast Show" (above, you daft idiots) strikes me as being a less likely candidate in his previous job as a post-punk singer, purely because his comedy performances seem relatively understated, his characters slightly introverted and awkward.

Yet in the grand scheme of things, The Higsons were actually a bit of a cult sensation in the early eighties, racking up Channel Four appearances, playing major gigs in London, and even signing to Two Tone briefly.  That they are talked about so infrequently now probably has a lot to do with the fact that it's hard to take a band seriously who are not only fronted by a comedian, but actually named after him as well.  That's a pity, because they were actually far, far better than they had any right to be.  Frequently described as the English Talking Heads (although XTC were also hit with that particular comparison, and The Higsons and XTC don't sound much alike) they combined stinging horn riffs, happily slapped bass guitars, funky rhythms and hollering New Wave vocals with scattershot, self-consciously ridiculous lyrics.  Like post-punk and funk meeting the more dada elements of American psychedelia, they were simultaneously odd but somehow groovy as well, in a manner you get the sense a lot of the current rash of post-punk inspired bands would love to be, but neither have the wherewithal nor courage to achieve.  

Their debut single "I Don't Want To Live With Monkeys" rushed to number five in the indie charts, and the band found themselves becoming much talked about as part of an advancing "Norwich Scene", which aside from a few very minor Top 75 hits from The Farmers Boys amounted to nought in the end.  In short, The Higsons were never going to be big, and one gets the impression from this clip on Youtube outlining the scene that the bands were more bewildered by the media attention than inspired by it.  Still, a quick sniff of "I Don't Want To Live With Monkeys" proves that there was a pop sensibility going on somewhere in there - the track has a short, sharp insistence I actually find thrilling.

The Higsons split in 1986, and we all know what happened next - Charlie Higson went on to fame and fortune working with Harry Enfield, Vic Reeves, and Paul Whitehouse.  It's not a particularly unhappy ending for him at least, even if he only seems to mention The Higsons these days with a slightly embarrassed expression on his face, perhaps only too aware of how at odds the manic, barking figure on stage in the clip above is with his adult self.  Really, he should have a wee bit more pride in his work.   

Download the Track (from "The Indie Scene 1981") here

And "The Curse of the Higsons" appears to be on Spotify too.