Electronic NME Review

THE MOD COUPLE

ELECTRONIC

Electronic (Factory/All formats)

IT'S PROBABLY not actually meant to be ironic that 'Electronic' opens with Barney Sumner declaring, "My name is not important" but it is ironic, a bit. After all, we have turned full circle to the days when rock thought it was maths and that if you put one bloke from a good group in with another bloke from another good group, you got a group that was twice as good. As a rule, natch, what you got was a bloody awful group and Supergroups were outlawed by the World Government and anyone who had worked with Eric Clapton was hanged.

But now we have Electronic and wow! they are good. Even though the mere facts that Johnny Marr can play the guitar better than Morrissey and Sumner used to be in a group with someone from Revenge do not immediately cause anyone sane to shout "Hurray! Popular music is safe forever!", 'Electronic' turns out to be very good. Perhaps playing the jangly guitar and not singing very welfare marks of genius, after all.

'Electronic' works because it sounds like the sort of record Marr and Sumner would want to make. It's hugely tuneful - more so than New Order's looping melodies - it's got the usual useless Barney lyrics, and it is a game reserve for the romping guitar and the chattering riff. It's also got this brilliant bit where The Pet Shop Boys turn up and sing The Patience Of A Saint'. Neil Tennant and Barney sing a duet and the result is lazy-lidded hypnotic shag joy.The chorus is rather good as well.

Everything is possessed of synthesiser rhythms parping about in jitterbug heaven, huge swathes of Johnny Marr, and more hooks than a New Order bass player's wedding. This is a pretty 1990s sort of a record, fresh as a daisy and wearing huge new oxblood Doc Martens. And best of all is the flaming individuality of the whole thing; nothing anyone has ever done has sounded even vaguely like 'Get The Message' or such attractive siblings as the clanking 'Gangster' or the sweet fast pop 'Tighten Up'. (Readers will note that all the song titles make no sense whatsoever.)

Originality in the fantastic tunes sense flourishes; even New Order never gave off the impression that their songs were about to go into some uncharted world of melody; The Smiths likewise were constrained by (if Marr isn't lying) not being allowed to be modern (we can only give massive thanks that working with The The has not turned Johnny Marr into Mr No-Tunes). This collaboration is an entirely liberating and even creative sort of thing; and anyone in Britain who has found themselves compelled to go "WAH WAAAAWAAA WAH" when that noise like a sea-lion in the rutting season comes on in 'Get The Message’ will be aware that new oceans of pop are being sailed in a big way.

On to the nitty gritty. While one may deplore the absence of 'Getting Away With it' and the fact that one so-called 'track' is a silly bit of theme music (called, ahem, 'Soviet'), one must also say cheerfully that 'Electronic' is a large and full barrel of dancing monkeys.

The lack of actual crap songs - which are usual on an album - is more than heartening. There is a lovely oboe on 'Some Distant Memory' whose pastoral shadings don't half sound bonkers over the drum machine. 'Idiot Country' is a pretty good name for an opening track. The stomping guitars and rapping (Barney Sumner rapping is a top treat for the ears) will cause The Soup Dragons and The Farm to split up in shame.

Pop music is once more in the hands of the people with guitars, synthesisers and tunes. WAH WAAAAWAAA. WAH. (S)

David Quantick