Great Albums: The Fine Art of Surfacing

The Boomtown Rats – The Fine Art of Surfacing (1979)

The Boomtown Rats – The Fine Art of Surfacing (1979)

There was once a time when “Sir” Bob Geldof was known for something other than organizing huge benefit concerts to feed the hungry. In fact, there was once a time when he was the hungry one. Hungry to find meaning in the world, and to find his place in it. In 1979, Geldof and his band The Boomtown Rats released one of my favourite albums, but the fact that it contained what amounted to a novelty hit (“I Don’t Like Mondays”) consigned The Boomtown Rats to “one-hit wonder” status and left the rest of this masterpiece of angry pop criminally undiscovered. In fact, the album was extremely difficult to find on CD in North America until a 2005 release that added some bonus tracks.

We might as well deal with “I Don’t Like Mondays” right away. Geldof was a former journalist, and you could see why he’d take inspiration from a newspaper account of a 13-year-old California teenager who shot 11 people with no remorse. When asked why she’d done it, she replied nonchalantly, “I don’t like Mondays.” Geldof’s outrage is somewhat obscured by his clever lyrics and sneering vocals, but it’s there. On “Diamond Smiles” he tells the sad story of a rich socialite who hangs herself at a grand party. “When the Night Comes” is about how the office drones try to escape their soulless jobs by fumbling for connection. Whether it’s the emptiness of riches, the incomprehensibility of random violence, or the alienation of our modern world, Geldof was a brilliant storyteller. Almost every song has a character at its centre, someone who is acting out their part in this confusing place. On “Someone’s Looking at You,” Geldof even eerily predicts our surveillance-mad post-9/11 culture of suspicion. This is a brilliant collection of pop songs with lyrics that are actually worth listening to.

Some people were surprised when the sneering Geldof became the ambassador for charity in the mid-80s, but not me. You can’t be born in Ireland and raised in a flawed but still vital Catholicism without emerging as an idealist. A frustrated and angry idealist, usually, but credit to Bob for not just giving up on this messy old world. When I first discovered this album, probably sometime in the 80s, I saw Bob as a great example of someone whose brain hadn’t completely crushed their soul. Even without the knighthood, I’d call him sir.

Track Listing

  1. Someone’s Looking at You
  2. Diamond Smiles
  3. Wind Chill Factor (Minus Zero)
  4. Having My Picture Taken
  5. Sleep (Fingers’ Lullaby)
  6. I Don’t Like Mondays
  7. Nothing Happened Today
  8. Keep It Up
  9. Nice ‘n’ Neat
  10. When The Night Comes

“Someone’s Looking at You” performance on Australian TV on YouTube
“I Don’t Like Mondays” video on YouTube

Great Albums is an occasional feature on Consolation Champs where I relate some personal stories about life-changing music in lieu of any proper music criticism. You’ll probably learn more about me than about music, so consider that fair warning. For more, click the Great Albums category tag.

“The National” Post

The National
Los Nacional

Ooh, such a clever title! Thanks to Neil and indirectly to Frank, I got to see The National tonight for free. I’d only heard two songs before tonight, but am firmly in the fan camp now. If you get a chance to see them, you really ought to go, before singer Matt Berninger does permanent damage to his voice. Openers The Cloud Room were a pleasant surprise as well.

P.S. The TTC has gone haywire. From the beautiful young female streetcar driver I met at 12:30 this morning to the crazy subway drivers calling out the names of the stations, things were weird today. On my morning commute, the stations were being called out by a drunken halfwit, and on my way home from the concert tonight, by a chirpy and possibly medicated matron.

BONUS: Video of Gang of Four performing a surprise show at SXSW on a parking garage rooftop. Yet another amazing show I missed by coming home after Interactive.

Rip It Up and Start Again

Rip It Up and Start Again [cover]

I’m very excited about the release of Simon Reynolds’ book Rip It Up and Start Again: Postpunk 1978-1984. This is exactly the period I’ve considered writing about before, though only about the local Toronto scene. This was not only an incredibly fertile period for music in general, but it corresponded with the exact years I was most receptive to it (13-19). There’s a good review in the NYT today (free registration required). Check it out. And if you’re coming to SXSW, make sure you get one of my annual Compilation Champs CDs. I guarantee several tracks of postpunk goodness!

Bonus points to anyone who can tell me where the title of the book comes from.

UPDATE: I just found Simon Reynolds’ blog! Via the excellent Silence Is A Rhythm Too, which has been featuring MP3 downloads of various postpunk classics. Reynolds also has an author site with more info on the book, and recently hosted a panel discussion which included Steven Daly of Orange Juice and No Wave pioneer James Chance (of James Chance and the Contortions). It’s a big download but looks to be worthwhile.