Having already tested the edges of its formative archival remit in recent times — with some fresher recordings from reunited veterans cut both inside and outside BBC-curated environments added to the catalogue — Precious Recordings pushes things even further with a back-to-back payload of early-summer releases. Featuring newbies and returnees delivering wares with a variety of provenances, here follows a breakdown of what the label now has vying for our shelf space.
Similarly fresh-faced and like-minded, but with influences closer to early-Superchunk and Merge Records, both in terms of their band name and in spirit, are Indonesia’s Tossing Seed, whose two towering noise-pop chuggers also recelebrate the delights of flipping back and forth between equally strong A and B sides from previously unfamiliar bands that you might not otherwise have taken a risk at first for a whole album. Fans of the recently UK-touring Say Sue Me and Hazy Sour Cherry, at the very least, should pick this one up.
Rounding out the triumvirate is a more contrarian three-track solo outing from indie elder and 14 Iced Bears member Robert Sukela. Through slow-burning art-pop bliss (“Sweetest Star”), slightly unhinged garage-rock-goes-techno (“Take It (Asyd Mouse Mix)”) and a dollop of wobbly bedroom synth doodling (“Consciousness …”), the Asyd Mouse EP conjures up some sincere as well as eccentric possibilities for Sukela’s late-career side-venturing.
In more archetypal Precious archival fashion — albeit combined into one album-length set instead of several EP-sized packages à la last year’s Saloon sessions round-up LP – is a compendium of the complete 1984-86 John Peel sessions from Manchester’s typographer-tormenting bIG*fLAME. Although featured on NME’s fabled C86 cassette compilation, this threesome’s unearthed oeuvre is far from fitting the stereotype that attached itself to most fellow contributors.
If the staccato stabs of “Debra” and “Man Of Few Syllables” or the lacerating art-funk fisticuffs of “All The Irish Must Go To Heaven” and “Three On Baffled Island” don’t grab you, some deliriously dismembered covers of Lee Hazlewood’s “These Boots Are Made For Walking” and Wham’s “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” (retitled as “Testament To The Slow Death Of Youth Culture”) should still entertain. A fascinating selection of moment-in-time snapshots, from a compellingly uncompromising ensemble, all told.
Last to be extracted from this heavy Precious sonic mound, is Live At The Water Rats from reconstituted onetime Sarah Records legends Blueboy. Having already delivered two terrific new singles for the label, ahead of a full long-player due later this year, this thirteen-song aural document from a 2024 on-stage performance acts as a fans-centric but not insubstantial interlude.
Redemptively finding co-founder Paul Stewart re-assuming his adaptable steering guitar-playing role and multi-instrumentalist Gemma Malley taking over vocal duties from the late Keith Girdler, this baker’s dozen suite bridges things assuredly between the older and the newer manifestation of Blueboy. Backed by also-returning bassist Mark Cousens and drummer Martin Rose, as well as by some briefly accompanying strings, the collection redraws choice pieces from the early repertoire and seamlessly interposes latter-day Precious 7” delivered material.
Veering through fleeting airy minimalism (“Chelsea Guitar”), feathery chamber-folk (“The Joy Of Living”), searing yet soaring shoegaze (“Popkiss” and “One”), languid yet fraught Cocteau Twins shimmering (“Candy Bracelet”, “Air France” and “Deux”), gallic-tinged pop (“Clear Skies”) and the hardest fringes of The Smiths’ iconic jangle shapes (“Sea Horses” and “Imipramine”), this eclectic assortment should empathetically put aside any dated pigeon-holing prejudices surrounding Blueboy’s range. Whilst the relative rawness of the amplified group configuration and the sound mix occasionally obscures Malley’s vocals and offsets some of the lusher musical characteristics, which means we’ll have to wait for the imminent studio LP to hear an even fuller and clearer realisation of Blueboy’s rebirth, overall this is an invigorating (re)introduction to an undervalued body of work. Loyal followers who have kept their faith over the intervening decades – and kept hold of their now highly valuable original vinyl – should find Live At The Water Rats particularly rewarding.-Adrian-
