The Sound - "From the Lions Mouth", and into Obscurity

 

It's been a long time since a band has captured my attention and held it there, the way The Sound has. How they managed to fly under my radar for so long, I don't know. But I am so glad to have finally found them. And because they remain relatively unknown to other, well-versed post-punk and 80's alternative aficionados like me, I want to take some time to introduce them to more potential fans.

My introduction to their perfectly-crafted post-punk was a song called "Skeletons" off 1981's, From the Lions Mouth. Not many lyrics to it, but a simple yet thoughtful point to be made- "we're living like skeletons". A metaphor for being depressed, perhaps, to the point where you're going through your days like you're already dead. Or at least you feel so empty inside, you may as well be just bones with nothing but the wind flowing through your hollow shell. That last detail was purposely over-the-top dramatic and goth, because that is the vibe the song gives off. But, the Sound are much more than goth camp. 

*TW: mention of s*icide. 

To give some background, the Sound formed in 1979 in South London, and disbanded in 1988. They never reached mainstream success, like many post-punk bands of the time. However, they were even more obscure than their genre contemporaries, and still really only have a cult following today. Their frontman, principal songwriter, and lead guitarist was Adrian Borland. Borland was the creative force behind what gave the Sound, well... their sound. Those who knew him even in his early teenage years recall his creative nature and natural ability. He notably played guitar left-handed. Along with all his talents, unfortunately, Borland also suffered from multiple different mental disorders. His whole life he dealt with schizoaffective disorder, as well as depression and alcoholism in his later years. He attempted suicide at least three times, according to himself and his family, before sadly succeeding in it, on April 26th, 1999, by jumping in front of a train. Heartbreaking as it may be, there is a reason I didn't spare you the details of the dark side of Adrian Borland's life. It is necessary to understand the chillingly beautiful depth of his music. 

The next song I heard from the Sound, is not from "the Lions Mouth", but is still absolutely worth talking about. From their first album, Jeopardy, I found "I Can't Escape Myself". A poignant callback to Borland's mental struggles, the title really says it all. A simple post-punk rocker, that drifts from quiet murmured verses, to shouted, angry choruses, that help convey the frustration of living with mental illness. "So many feelings, pent up in here. Left alone I'm with, the one I most fear", the opening lines warn. Even if you are neurotypical, and don't live with mental illness, I'm sure you're still able to understand that feeling of not wanting to be alone with yourself, at least one point in your life. For some people, that feeling isn't something that ever goes away. Listen to it for yourself, below. 

One more song I would like to mention before I let you all go off to enjoy this band for yourself, is "Winning". The gorgeous yet haunting opening to From the Lions Mouth, this has become my favorite song by the Sound. It has so many different feelings to it, depending on where you're at in life when you hear it. The title sounds like it's going to be about success, and overall a positive message. But with our knowledge of Borland's life, there is surely more to it than that. I think it can be taken either as a declaration of determination to fight back against whatever is plaguing you in life, or a reminder of the futility of fighting yourself (or both at the same time). The guitar starts off droning on dreamily, but towards the end of the song, turns to incessant wailing, almost as if to remind you that the struggle is never really over- you won a battle, not the war. But that is a lot of what mental health / mental illness struggles are. It is winning the daily battles, trying to keep a leg up in the war, but in many cases, never really winning it, always just living around it. But hey, that in itself is something to be proud of. 

Dismal as a lot of the Sound's music and Adrian Borland's writing may seem after reading this, I promise that listening to it should ultimately uplift you, rather than bring you down. I find comfort in knowing a creative soul out there like Borland has put a lot of things I have felt into relatable, beautiful post-punk anthems. While the Sound never got the critical acclaim and fame that they rightfully deserve, they still have a devoted cult following I am proud to call myself a part of, and soon maybe you will too! 

I just wanted to sign off by saying, thank you all so much for reading. I am sorry for such a long absence since I last wrote, but I hope you'll continue to hang on with me, through future creative lapses. Knowing someone's still with me, makes all the difference. Now, go out there and start "winning", whatever that means for you!

Bryan Ferry - Boys and Girls - Sensual 80's Crooner Rock

If the 1980's could be remembered for only one thing, it would surely be decadence & debauchery. At least from my romanticized, nostalgic perspective, that is a singular culturally defining trait of the decade. It permeated everything, from the film, literature, television, and of course- the music. And if there's any album that encapsulates and romanticizes this concept even further, it would be Bryan Ferry's 1985 solo record, Boys and Girls. 

His first since disbanding the iconic, glam / art rock group Roxy Music, it showcased the refined, sleek image he first began to curate on their last album together, Avalon. Ferry's style was always in stark contrast to that of his former Roxy collaborator, Brian Eno, who was more interested in how bizarre and artistic the music could get (which he expanded on in his own solo work), than making refined artistic rock, that was still accessible to the masses. Their creative differences led to Eno's eventual departure from the group, and Ferry taking Roxy to their peak of popularity. 

On Boys and Girls, Ferry dives deeper and deeper into the romantic, modern crooner image, resulting in one of the decade's most sensual, decadent works, but while still maintaining his artistic, sophisticated side. He capitalizes on his striking good looks, and suave aura, by creating a record that is as attractive as he is. I feel the need to discuss this record, because of how powerful it is, and what sets it apart from other romantic / sensually-driven music of its time. 

The album begins with the pretty overtly sexual, "Sensation". Simplistic in its lyrics, it seems to clearly be depicting the desire and need to spend a night of passion with someone. Musically, it is luscious and smooth, almost is if Ferry is trying to seduce the listener into going to bed with him by sound alone. His voice takes the old-fashioned crooner vibe, and corrupts it, taking it to a place that surely would have been unacceptable and "raunchy" at that time. This of course will only be expanded upon by the next track, and the rest of the album.

Then there is the track that most will remember from the record, "Slave to Love". Probably Ferry's best known song, there are even many from my generation who know it (though most probably couldn't say who it's by). The song is featured in countless film and TV show soundtracks, from the 80's to the 2010's. There is a reason for this fame and notoriety. It is on par with the Police's "Every Breath You Take", insofar as the ideas of obsession and needing to have someone as your own being heavily romanticized and sought after. The lyrics follow along the sensual, romantic path the rest of the album takes, but is more subtly lustful- some listeners even taking the song's lyrics to a sadomasochistic place. Think of it what you will, but there is no denying the entrancing, passion this song exudes. With renowned "slap" bassist Tony Levin (Peter Gabriel), Guy Fletcher on keyboards (Dire Straits), and Keith Scott on guitar (Bryan Adams), the track has enough musical prowess and star-power to stand tall on that fact alone. But it is of course Ferry's modern 80's crooner voice, and sexually, romantic-driven lyrics that make this song the stand-out that it is. Give it a listen for yourself, below. 

The third track pumps the breaks on the "hot and heavy" motifs, if you will, and goes for a dancier song about well...dancing! "Don't Stop the Dance" has such a unique sound, with its low-key synthesizers and saxophone, stays on the sensual track of the beginning of the record, but focuses more on a need to simply dance. "There will always be more time to find a perfect lover, but for right now, all I want is to dance until the sun comes up", might be the universal feeling of every single person dancing the night away, finally feeling at peace with just being with themself, not needing a partner to be happy. This is at least, my take-away from the song, but there isn't much to go off of, so feel free to develop your own theories. 

"Windswept" harkens back to an Avalon sort of sound, with its abstract lyrics, depicting a magical, enchanted landscape that could only come from the mind of Ferry. It maintains the romanticism contained within all of Boys and Girls, via heavy sax, this time giving the song its more mystical feel, done in such a stylized way, and castanets also contributing to this vibe. Topping it off with Pink Floyd guitarist David Gilmour on lead guitar, "Windswept" is a mystic rocker of a track, which is unfortunately often overlooked. I invite you to check it out below.

I'll leave the remainder of Boys and Girls a pleasant surprise for you to discover on your own (or a pleasant reminder, for those of you already familiar with it). Other highlights, however, include Mark Knopfler of Dire Straits and his signature guitar genius on the track "Valentine", and the album's ender, and title track, "Boys and Girls".

When you look at it from a modern perspective, Bryan Ferry's Boys and Girls is everything a romantic 80's album should be. From Ferry's 80's take on the crooner (sometimes referred to also as "blue-eyed soul") voice, to the luscious synths and over-indulgence of saxophone and slap bass, and the sensual (often sexual) lyrics- it's enough to get anyone in the mood. Ferry lets his fascination with decadence run free, but keeps it suave, charming and never-overbearing. Boys and Girls is the record you put on, with candles lit, wine flowing, and a prospective lover sitting on your couch, trying to make some magic happen. And who could blame you? Certainly not the 80's!

Thank you as always for reading, and have a romantic start to your new year!

Bryan Ferry, photographed by John Swannell, in 1985.