12 Overlooked Pieces of Awesome is an article series where each month Flint hopelessly rambles about an album in his collection that he dearly loves, even when they have their flaws. Each of the albums chosen tends to be usually overlooked, or forgotten, in one way or another and thus this article series aims to give an alternative view on said albums, or simply just bring something a bit less known to the spotlight.

Chumbawamba – Anarchy (1994)

The problem with trying to be edgily self-destructive is that you end up throwing away your audience before they even had the chance to get to know you. Publicity stunt -like take-thats against everything and everyone, putting a just-born baby on the cover of your album, trying to subvert and bend the rules of promotion in every way possible… all characteristic things that while give you a certain personality, also brush off away people. The problem with Chumbawamba has always been that they broke into general consciousness once and once only with an almost annoyingly big way – “Tubthumping” was a gigantic hit much thanks to its insanely catchy chorus and simple lyrics about pub culture, and it’s one of the most love-it-or-hate-it kind of one-hit wonders there is. The band had already been active before that for quite a while and after Tubthumping the band pretty much decided to first rebel (2000’s WYSIWYG that devoted an entire album on taking the piss, parodying, attacking and at the same time cheekingly embracing the pop consumerist culture) and then just fade away doing their own thing for their own fun and for fans’ sake (the string of more folk-styled albums released up to this very day). And even those who do get the weird, random decision to investigate the band’s works outside Tubthumping and its parent album Tubthumper will end up hitting certain walls that make it very hard to go on further.

Like that baby cover.

1994’s Anarchy, the subject of our discussion today, is the one with the infamous baby cover. If it wasn’t for that and the band’s infamous one-hit-wonder/”those damn bastards who brought us that pub song” reputation, I’d expect it to be viewed as one of the 90’s great cult classics. It’s probably the most deliciously catchy pop album with a vicious tongue stuck permanently in its cheek that the 90’s produced.

Let’s look at the album’s opening trio. “Give the Anarchist a Cigarette” is triumphant start, a techno-reggae anthem loaded with horns and possibly the most wonderfully jubilant and uplifting song ever made about throwing a revolution (”nothing ever burns down by itself/every fire needs a little bit of help”), complete with the popculture birdflips always so prominent in the band’s music (”you know I hate every pop star that I’ve ever met!”). “Timebomb” is a hilariously upbeat synthpop stomp going on about the danger of terrorism being able to happen anywhere a decade before it was fashionable, armed with the most ridiculously stupid yet addicting vocal hook ever (”ticking ticking ticking timebomb!”). The trio is finished with a sad and angry lament on homophobic assholes played like a march ripped straight out of a cheesy Broadway musical, aptly titled “Homophobia” – this later got a full-scale dance remix armed with a (lesbian) gospel choir. All the while sampling countless tv programs, from Simpsons to 60’s Batman.

And that’s just the first three songs.

Give the Anarchist a Cigarette (live)

Anarchy is an insanely hook-filled, uplifting, singalong-enducing album that crooks itself so strongly with lyrical dissonance and subtle (and not-so-subtle) digs and take thats against everything and everyone that in the end you have no idea what’s serious and what isn’t. This is then coupled with downright masterful songcraft. These are all pop songs: big hooks, infectious melodies, anthemic choruses. Chumbawamba are often described as anarchists and punks, it’s this anarchistic nature that fuels the aptly named Anarchy: always ready to subvert, always ready to bend the rules. These are catchy pop hits armed with venomous, edged tongues.

Apart from its plentiful interludes – three half-a-minute snippets, one short actual song) Anarchy is a constant splendour of songwriting. The furious “Love Me” is both narcissistic and self-loathing in its fist-pumping fierceness, “Georgina” coats a tale of cold-blooded murder in a sugar-sweet 50’s lounge ballad style (complete with ooh-shalalalas), “Heaven/Hell”’s beauty is in its eery and ethereal keyboards, “This Year’s Thing” has its tongue so firmly in the cheek it’s pierced skin and “Mouthful of Shit” as much full of attitude as one might assume from its title. The two very best moments are saved at the very last: “Bad Dog” is a breath-takingly furious monster-drive with simple but staggering hooks, while the Credit to the Nation -featuring “Enough Is Enough” is not only mercilessly blunt in its anti-fascist stance, but delivers it with such a punch you’d beg for mercy if it ever gave you any chance.

The one thing that strikes against the album’s music itself today is its rather bad dating. Chumbawamba has never shied away from using electronic flavouring in the music and the frequent drum machines and keyboards used on Anarchy tend to sometimes sound very… nineties. Whether or not this is a point of annoyance is up to how well you tolerate such sounds. For some, like myself, they’re a lovely little throwback to a cool decade while for others the production may feel weak and corny. Your mileage may vary. Otherwise the band’s in top form – the vocalist duo of Danbert Nobacon (the male shouty speak-singing) and Alice Watts (the more melodic female vocals) both do their duties masterfully while the band plays tightly and craftily, particular delights being the frequent horn melodies and the subtle, jagged guitar work of the album.

A common problem with a lot of Chumbawamba albums is that the idea tends to come before the songs – each album usually has a specific theme or an unified sound and sometimes it seems that weaker material is let in just because it fits the overall aching concept. Anarchy is one of the band’s albums where the songs work together with the overall aching idea or unified sound. There are no weak points, no misses, no dodgy moments (the interludes do not count because, well, they’re interludes) except the celebrated twisted dodginess of the whole atmosphere. A part of me says it’s my favourite of theirs but that same part also grew up with the album and has played it since the mid-90’s. But Anarchy is undeniably one of their very best. It’s a cult classic without the cult or the classic status, but it’s never too late to correct that.

Timebomb

MP3: Love Me
MP3: Enough Is Enough

Buy Anarchy

Tags: 12 Overlooked Pieces of Awesome, Chumbawamba

This entry was posted on Saturday, June 27th, 2009 at 8:48 pm and is filed under Retrospective. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.