TELEVISION – MARQUEE
MOON (ELEKTRA)
One of my greatest
moments in the name of indie rock was the time I subtly forced the girlfriend
of the drummer from Razorlight to listen to Marquee Moon. At first when I pressed play on the record
and “See No Evil” began rolling her response was an enthusiastic “oh great The
Futureheads”. With that her response
and expression soon changed as I took her to another place, in a direction
unexpected. And then a few tracks later
we reached the centrepiece of the album: the title track.
When Johnny Borrell
“wrote” and released “In
The Morning” for me it was one of the most disgusting and heinous gestures
by a mainstream “indie” band ever soiled onto tape. Over the course of three or so minutes he performed wholesale
robbery of “Marquee Moon” and arrogantly attempted to pass it off as his own. And yet nobody kicked off or called him up
on it. Maybe it was because he played
it so shoddily or maybe it was just that they saw him for the joke and fraud
that he was and remains. Back to the
moment though and how I nearly wore my finger out pointing to the stereo each
time during the ten minutes of the track that Television invented music that
was still being rifled almost thirty years later. It was a gesture akin to Woody Allen bringing out Marshall
McLuhan in Annie Hall.
Marquee Moon was
released in February 1977. By that time
Richard Hell had since departed the band but as the act pushed things forward
they became the first band of the punk era to solidly play CBGBs and help set
up what turned out to be one of the most influential scenes of any period. Originally coming from other parts of the
country, this band was now New York through and through as they rinsed out an
urban album that reflected the tough and colourful existence afforded
them. They arrived ten years after the
Velvet Underground benefiting from all that had been learned/discovered in
their existence.
Television actually
sound more post-punk than punk. Their
music is smarter, exhibiting a skill set and patience that their apparent three
chord peers did not share. The eight
tracks on this album are measured and cool, a more mature pulse and reflection
of movements from the city.
It begins with “See No
Evil” and the track my ex-colleague mistook as being The Futureheads. In a way I do see that, it’s a great and
lively song with snap urgency and a satisfying hook. The build is brilliant and the length lean. It marks an amazing arrival.
Television was always
a band with a big sound. The intros
into songs were impressively grandiose on a sensible level as the arriving
vocals of Tom Verlaine snappily cut through proceedings as the surrounding
music rolls out in textured fashion often meandering in unexpected
directions. That was reason why songs
became so extended.
Perhaps the most
masterful display of musicianship on the album is the entry into “Friction” and
the descending sound of the guitar, a noise that had never been heard before. Here is Marquee Moon’s exotic landing. And yet dare I suggest it not that difficult
to perform, what was the test/difficulty was tapping into the mindset and space
to try such a thing. Then on top of
such a standout moment there was still room within the song to include a strong
and smart hook/chorus. As the song then
enters its free space you witness a wonderful hybrid and mid point between
Talking Heads and Sonic Youth. This is
playing a person can easily lose their shit too.
In the title track the
band has one of the greatest achievements in rock music. “Marquee Moon” is the most compact ten
minute song in the history of modern music.
This song feels like a late night nocturnal journey around the slums of
New York, revealing the miniscule riches that can be found and are on
offer. The glowing repetition of the
duelling guitars is a defining pulse was the song powers to its eventual pay
off. This was the reinvention of rock
complete with resolution and morning sun like conclusion/completion. With listening comes maturity. Lost becomes found.
As the record continues
on the second side it exhibits itself as being both post and modern with tracks
that touch upon the Rolling Stones sound (“Guiding Light”) while displaying the
kind of direction and template that Gang Of Four would eventually become renowned
for (“Elevation”).
The album serves host
to two singles with the title track having been the first and “Prove It”
following as a second. Here was the
band exhibiting intense and aggressive gestures via one of their longest
standing compositions. There is a stark
nonchalance at play as the song actually begins to resemble “Stand By Me” until
after much gesticulation from Verlaine he ends things on the words “this case
is closed.”
It all ends
appropriately with “Torn Curtain” and a theatrical workout, which actually would
not feel out of place in a Hitchcock universe.
The song serves as a suitable outro although there is much argument that
it drags but that’s fine when closing an album. Kicking off after a jazz like drumroll, in come foreign keys
followed by an almost Pink Floyd-esqe guitar part as slowly the song grows in a
stabbing/lurching manner, seemingly in nostalgic fashion for Verlaine. Then as the guitar screams like a drowning
cat there is suggestion to “burn it down”, to wreck was just accomplished. And in many ways that is ultimately what
happened.
Then they are gone.
This is how you win at
art rock.
Thesaurus moment:
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