Primal Scream’s ambient pop album was one of the most innovative recordings of the Nineties. Their latest is likely to be one of the most controversial, writes Fred de Vries
FACT: Primal Scream’s Higher Than the Sun will go down in history as the most innovative, groundbreaking single of the Nineties. Here’s why. Musically, the song was impossible to categorise. It was a series of blissful explosions, in which rock, psychedelica and modern technology softly collided. It was a sound that hinted at something completely new, something fresh beyond the usual macho guitar bravado or feminist verbal anger. It was a kind of androgynous ambient pop for the future.
Lyrically it explored a state of drug-infused euphoria. “I’m drifting in a space, free of time. I’ve found the higher state of grace in my mind,” reported singer Bobby Gillespie somewhere from planet E, while the imaginary sound of passing clouds and a subdued heartbeat drifted by. The song captured the zeitgeist: the egocentric hedonism of the rave generation.
Higher Than the Sun, of which two versions can be found on Primal Scream’s 1991 Screamadelica album, was the product of three minds clashing. The version which became the single was produced by The Orb, while the other extended variant labelled “a dub symphony in two parts” featured the bass of Jah Wobble. Their production and playing skills were augmented by Gillespie’s spaced-out vocals and lyrics.
All three musicians came out of the British punk era, with Gillespie starting his career as a drummer for noise merchants The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Orb’s Alex Paterson being a roadie for Killing Joke, and Jah Wobble playing bass in Johnny Rotten’s post-Sex Pistols outfit PIL.
Inevitably, the three minds drifted apart. Gillespie and his chums have now gone completely rock. Their latest album Give Out But Don’t Give Up is probably the most controversial of the year, if only because it was such a radical departure from Screamadelica.
Essentially Primal Scream have made the album the Rolling Stones have been trying to make since Exile on Main Street. In their search for the spirit of “genuine rock and soul” Primal Scream went all the way. They hired old Stones collaborators like producer Tom Dowd and copied the Stones’ early Seventies decadent lifestyle, complete with the lilac satin shirts and the near fatal indulgence in drugs.
The result is three rockers, three funky experiments and six lovelorn bluesy ballads, written after the come-down among the debris of empty bottles and used capsules while grey early morning light shatters the trip. Gone are the days of the previous new frontier explorations. And predictably the single Rocks goes down extremely well with the safe rockist formula of 5FM.
“Yes, I’ve heard the new Scream album. I’ve listened to it once. That’s all that needs to be said,” sneers The Orb mainman Paterson on the phone from London. He’s slightly more complimentary about Jah Wobble, who on his excellent new album Take Me to God goes for a truly global sound, featuring musicians from Ireland, Senegal, North Africa, Jamaica, Germany and Nicaragua.
“Wobble is doing his thing, which is fine with me,” says Paterson, “but I feel he’s often too restricted by the format of the songs.”
So what about The Orb then? Admittedly, they are the only ones of the Higher Than the Sun trio who’ve continued their sojourn into the unknown. Their just released mini album Pomme Fritz has over 40 minutes of what can best be described as trance- like-wobbly-sounds with weird samples woven into them. It’s a further exploration of their ambient techno sound that first surfaced in 1989. Ambient is the product of the “chill out rooms” at warehouse parties, where the dance and drugs casualties could recharge mind and body. The sound owes as much to ambient pioneer Brian Eno as it does to heavy Jamaican dub.
Traditional song structures have now all but completely faded, as well as the techno beats that made previous Orb efforts vaguely danceable. Lyrics, save for the few samples, are absent. And if this all sounds horribly serious, song titles like More Gills Less Fishcakes and Aller ist Schoen hint at a wicked sense of humour.
`It’s all meant to be a bit wacky,” chuckles Paterson. “There’s actually a lot of humour in The Orb. This mini album is a taster for our next proper album, which will be a complete crazy mishmash of ideas. After people have listened to that they’ll be wondering where the hell they’ve been for the last hour.”
Paterson, who sounds completely out of it and would rather talk about the World Cup soccer, happily admits that without the necessary chemicals it’s quite difficult to relate to the music of The Orb. Chemicals, he acknowledges, also played an important part in the creation of this aural tapestry. “Well, it’s better than emptying two bottles of vodka.”
Like them or not, the great thing about The Orb is that their punk spirit is still alive. They don’t give a hoot about the music industry and the demand for hits, with their previous single clocking in at just over 39 minutes. “We’ve taken that punk thing into the Nineties, you know that whole do-it- yourself attitude. If the record company and the radio stations don’t know how to handle us, that’s their problem.”
Meanwhile, the kids don’t care. The extremely radio unfriendly Pomme Fritz made it into the top 10 in the first week after its release.