Once and Never Again: Remembering The Long Blondes

I can recall with all too much clarity the day I turned on the PC in 2008 and discovered the sad news that one of my favourite bands of that time, The Long Blondes, had split and separated due to the ill health of their guitarist and chief song-writer, Dorian Cox.

It saddened me then and it still saddens me to this day.
During the dark ages of grunge and Britpop, from the early 90s onwards, I was constantly mocked and derided by my friends and acquaintances for "living in the past". Stinging accusations of not being open enough to new music, and of being "behind the times", were regularly thrown in my handsome face. I was dismissed as a dinosaur relic clinging to the memory of times when, I maintained, bands looked sensational they mostly did!), synthesisers were a key instrument and the singers had glamour and mystique, and, in the main, could actually sing in tune. My defensive protests that it was the dull music, horrendous (not to mention ugly!) singing, and macho, boring style that I disliked (the Manics, Suede and James, of course, were my life-saving, glorious exceptions), and not the fact that it was contemporary, fell on resoundingly deaf ears and this situation became something of a never-ending in-joke amongst my inner-circle.

Knowing that musical styles invariably go around in cycles, however, I knew that if I bided my time, stood up for my deeply held aesthetic values, new bands would inevitably come along that left the dullness of the likes of Oasis, Embrace, and Nirvana behind, and which embraced the glam, drama and euphoria of the 80s.

And then, in 2003, I was going through an overnight recorded VHS video of MTV's 120 Minutes programme, when, to my eternal delight and surprise (not to mention vindication!) everything that I had been waiting for was encapsulated in one, two and a half minute song, that was on the VHS tape I was painstakingly making my way through, in the hope of finding a hidden diamond in the indie landfill that took up so much time and tape. It was a song by a band called The Long Blondes called 'Separated By Motorways', and it was unbelievably catchy, had a lyric full of biting wit, and the band were so gloriously flirty (especially singer Kate Jackson) that it was like being catapulted back to the days of being introduced to sultry pop divas such as Blondie and witty lyrical storytellers such as Jarvis Cocker.

The Long Blondes - 'Separated by Motorways':
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F9-01tGGIfY

Of course I immediately hunted high and low for information on them, discovered they were from Sheffield, had an unhealthy (which can only be a good thing) obsession with Pulp (definitely a good thing!), and incredibly, were unsigned. And furthermore, by a wonderful stroke of luck, whilst I was going through another video I'd left recording overnight, I found another of their songs, this time the equally fabulous 'Appropriation.' The promo to this song was, if anything, even better then 'Separated By Motorways,' with Ms. Jackson looking utterly ravishing in knee-length boots, miniskirt, fishnets, and trademark neckscarf. The song itself was absolutely charming, and had that wonderful playfulness that I felt was so lacking in most bands during the 90s.

The Long Blondes - 'Appropriation':
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N-NdjBr9rYA

It was only a matter of time before they got more recognition, and this duly came. They were snapped up by Rough Trade Records, released their debut album, Someone To Drive You Home, and deservedly began to get far more exposure from the music press.

During this time, I was fortunate enough to catch them in concert quite a few times, and as good as their album was, this was where they really came to life.


- Long Blondes' singer Kate Jackson

First and foremost, Kate Jackson was a superb front woman. Sultry and stylish, she simply oozed that star quality that can mesmerise an audience. With a perfect pop voice that could handle three minute up-tempo ditties and yearning ballads with equal aplomb, her charity shop glam style fitted the lyrics perfectly. The band behind her were sometimes inspired, sometimes shambolic, but this just seemed to heighten their uniqueness. Their punk spirit and ethic really came through at this time, and the early concerts I witnessed were a delight.

In 2008 they released their second album, "Couples" , which showcased a band growing in confidence and ability. The 80s sound took centre stage on this release, and songs like 'Guilt 'and 'Here Comes The Serious Bit' were as good as anything that they'd released up to this point.

Another aspect of The Long Blondes that I loved was their brilliant B.Sides. Whilst they excelled at catchy, three minute pop songs, their B.Sides showed a band equally happy with brooding, even menacing epics.

The Long Blondes - 'Fulwood Babylon':
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a4FLoBwBf4Y

In fact, one of The Long Blondes' main attractions was the high quality of their lyrics. Always sharp and witty, their songs also came laced with a tint of melancholy, and Jackson's knowing delivery of these kitchen-sink style dramas added genuine poignancy.

All this just adds to my sadness that such a promising band, that were surely destined for greatness, suffered the devastating consequences of ill health, and, sadly, I know only too well what health, or rather, the lack of it, can do and I wish Dorian and the band all the very best in the future.

As for The Long Blondes, I'm just delighted that I discovered them and have their precious songs and experienced them in concert when I did.

Summing up, I guess I would have to conclude that The Long Blondes' star may have been brief, but boy did it shine brightly.

And as a personal footnote, they, along with the likes of Sohodolls, Dead Disco, Huski, IAMX, Bat For Lashes and countless others, who were waiting in the wings to offer their magic to the world, as the musical style that I appreciate and connect with, did, as I had predicted, come around once again, had helped to put that despicable mistruth constantly repeated by my contemporaries about my apparent lack of appreciation for "new" music to be unceremoniously discarded, once and for all. I who never doubted, darlings!

However, my dream ticket of seeing them support the Manics will never materialise (what a glam fest that would have been!) but they have left a lasting legacy with their two fabulous albums, that will no doubt inspire many other bands and writers in the future.

They are sorely missed.

                           "Once and Never Again."

"Horse": The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser

 

Warning: contains spoilers.

Having just re-watched Werner Herzog's 1971 film, The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser, for the first time in over twenty years, I am reminded why I have always maintained such a fondness for this slow moving and strangely haunting film. Loosely based on a true story, the film centres around Kaspar Hauser, a young man who has been kept locked in a tower for his entire life, until he is suddenly taught a few words, instructed how to stand up and walk, and then released into the world by an unknown man, with only a strange letter of description in his hand that can be read by whomever he happens to come across.

It is an unsettling film, and for much of the story it is obvious that Kaspar (superbly played by Bruno. S, a travelling musician that Herzog discovered and who, as well as never having acted before, had also spent episodes of his life in mental institutions) has more in common with the animals who are also tied up and sleep on straw, than any of the human beings he comes to interact with. After Kaspar attempts to flee from performing in a circus (in order to "pay his way," you understand) he is taken up by a kindly man from the middle-class, and he and his family (staff) try very patiently to teach him the ways of society. But Kaspar finds he simply cannot find his place in this utterly odd, bizarre world.

He is questioned relentlessly by religious folk, but he has the innocent wisdom of a child, and he is scolded when he responds to their enquiries and demands.

They demand faith, but to his uncorrupted, wise mind, this is nonsensical. Later, he is drilled by a teacher on logic, but, again, Kaspar simply finds

their ways and attitudes berserk and incomprehensible. His is a supremely intuitive intelligence and knowledge, and they are as far from understanding his intuitive wisdom as he is of theirs. When he is being questioned by a rich family from England on what his imprisonment was like, he shocks everybody with his response to their questions:

Later in the film, Kaspar is assaulted, it appears by the man who had released him from the tower, possibly his own father, and then towards the end of the film, stabbed and killed by the same man. It is an unfathomable and enigmatic ending to a very strange film. There are moments of genuine beauty and sadness, but what struck me on this watching was just how comical it also is. The early scenes where Kaspar is being taught to walk and speak are very humorous. And when he is learning to speak, his lack of knowledge of language gives the dialogue a distinctly surrealistic feel, such as when Kaspar continually blurts out the word "Horse!" at completely inopportune moments, and answers in the way he does because he hasn't remotely understood what was being asked:

It brings instantly to mind the strange feeling and understanding of dream conversations.

The music in the film also emphasises the mood, and from the very first opening bars of Johann Pachelbel's Canon in D Major, we know we are in for an emotional couple of hours, as the narrator of the film, over this sweeping, dramatic music, asks the viewer:

Kaspar learns to love music, and his conversation about his failure to be able to play the piano tugs resolutely at the heart strings...

In a later scene, Kaspar also flies from church because of the resolutely unmusical noise of the congregation...

I understand Kaspar only too well in this painful scene, as that is how I feel when Oasis or The Stone Roses are within hearing distance of my sensitive ears!

The other thing that really struck me whilst viewing the film this time around was the heavy influence of the German Romantic painter, Casper David Friedrich (1774-1840). Friedrich painted extremely haunting pictures of nature, along with portraits showing humans often isolated against the sublime elements. Herzog clearly has these pictures in mind with some of the scenes in Kaspar Hauser.

And, finally, what a brilliant and emotional watch The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser is. It shows us just how artificial and absurd many human beliefs and interactions actually are, as the innocent and naïve Kaspar illustrates in his failure to comprehend some of the very basic religious and philosophical ideologies and beliefs that our society has agreed to rely on and accept as truth. Kaspar is suspiciously viewed as the animal or barbarian by the townsfolk he engages with, but he is gentle and kind, while they are the ones who tease him and try to make him perform mental gymnastics so they can instil their way of seeing the world onto him. Kaspar Hauser could almost be read as a symbol of all outsiders who can't find a place in this world and who see through the lies and machinations that are the oil that turns the wheel of our hypocritical, late-capitalist society. In this regard, he also put me in mind of Prince Myshkin in Dostoevsky's novel The Idiot, another naïve character who finds himself thrust into the everyday theatre of human affairs, and who ends badly. Indeed, Kaspar has more connection with, and is closer to, the poor animals who are tied up, housed in stables of straw, and generally reduced to the status of non-sentient things, which is how humanity treats the vast majority of non-human life forms it interacts with. There is a beautiful moment in the film that captures Kaspar's close affinity to the animal world in a scene where he is attempting to feed a small chick, and is delighted when it finally takes some of the food he is offering from a stick. Kaspar makes a childlike sound of genuine delight when this happens, and this treasured moment highlights Kaspar's humanity with genuine poignancy. 

A beautiful, haunting and thought-provoking film.

Until next time, I remain,

Your Nocturnal Butterfly.

xxxx