The Monochrome Set – Strange Boutique

Tapete

The Monochrome Set were a unique band in the first throes of the post-punk scene. They took the energy of punk’s initial rush and used it for their own effervescent purposes.

Instead of going down the doomy bass-led route of some of their contemporaries, they chose chiming guitars, individualist rhythms that borrowed from all genres and clever, ironic lyrics, delivered in singer Bid‘s mellifluous, knowing tones. They formed in 1978 and were well known around the scene, to a point where Max from Rema Rema borrowed equipment from them. Signing to the happening Dindisc label, Strange Boutique was released in 1980 and shone like a beacon through the industrial clatter of other releases of the time.

If anything, the sound of cicadas and the tropical, jungle rhythms of opener “Monochrome Set” (I presume) have more akin with the likes of Kid Creole than anything in the capital at the time; and who knows, maybe Marco Pirroni was listening and borrowed a little of that sound when joining The Ants. The rhythm is insistent and kind of offbeat, while the guitar has a mildly Eastern tone that feels more like you are sitting in a bar in Marrakesh than gloomy London.

The bass is subtle and lush, and the voice playful, with the lyrics even more so: “I’m heaven sent, so eloquent”. We almost believe it, such is the love of language and unusual choices of meter that flash in and out of the songs. The wildly galloping drums on “The Lighter Side Of Dating” infuse the track with a runaway atmosphere around which the words are delicately stacked. You can’t help but think that, amongst others, Lloyd Cole and Edwyn Collins must have been listening intently.

Guitarist Lester Square, who would leave for the first time after their third album, sounds as though he may have been listening to Wilko Johnson on the frantic ramalama of “Expresso”, but the middle eight takes it into unexpected territory. This is the case with most of the songs, so that by the time you flip the LP after six tracks, it feels as though about fifteen ideas have been pursued with the washboard rattle of classical-influenced ’60s instrumental “The Puerto Rican Fence Climber” running into the music hall romp of “Tomorrow Will Be Too Long”. Funnily enough, due to the amount of unexpected influences and raucous energy, they appear at times like a more erudite and continental Madness.

The ’70s keyboard motif that opens side two comes straight from your gran’s living room, and although the brevity of the tracks prevents anything from outstaying its welcome, there is a lovely element of hypnotic repetition on the slightly sinister “Ici Les Enfants”, with a lulling drone taking up residence towards the end. The lovely thing is, even though the production is pretty thin, you feel the essence of the band giving room and allowing all members to flourish, Bid’s poetry working its way around the snaking constructions.

You definitely imagine that The Brilliant Corners would have been listening to the phrasing and the way instrumental “The Etcetera Stroll” spirals into hysteria is reminiscent of The Wedding Present. “Goodbye Joe” is a slow romantic strum that is infused with fairground organ, as if a radio were half tuned-in; and the final track “Strange Boutique” is a ’60s surf-influenced hoedown with duelling bass and guitar, tin can drums elbowing their way into the fray. It is a fine all-round effort on which they an all bow out.

The album is a delight and it is great that it is back in print again. The follow-up LP Love Zombies appeared not long after and that is also receiving a re-issue, but this is where the magic really started.

-Mr Olivetti-