Course A002:  XTC - The band and the music

 

The day the world turned paisley


The Dukes of Stratosphear

As 1984 drew to a close, the boys decided to have a bit of fun. Andy had toyed with the idea of a spoof psychedelic band for years – the name “The Dukes of Stratosphear” was one of those rejected when The Helium Kidz changed their name to XTC in 1976. Only when Dave became a member could they really explore the possibilities. Dave was a natural born mimic with the guitar. Any band, any guitarist, any style – he could pastiche them with alarming accuracy. 

Andy had been working with long-time producing collaborator John Leckie, producing an album for Irish songstress Mary Margaret O’Hara. However, Ms O’Hara (who Andy describes as “a couple of spoons short of a cutlery set”) fired them before a note was recorded. Her reason . . . “the vibes weren’t right”. Andy feels it was more due to the fact that O’Hara was a devout Catholic, while Andy was a committed atheist and Leckie went one further, being a follower of a controversial Indian Guru who advocated free love!

So, wth time on their hands, Andy squeezed five grand out of Virgin and decamped to Chapel Lane studios in the delightfully named Hampton Bishop, in Wiltshire. Dave’s brother Ian (known as Eewee) was invited to play drums as he wasn’t famous and wouldn’t draw attention to the band’s true identity. Then it was time for the pseudonyms. 

Andy became Sir John Johns (from the DC Comics character Jon Jonzz, the Martian man hunter); Colin was The Red Curtain (at school he was nicknamed ‘Curtains’ because of the long hair he grew in front of his face and both Andy and Dave see him as the most left wing member of the group); Dave became Lord Cornelius Plum (lifted from an American book about psychedelia) and Ian made the short hop to E.I.E.I. Owen. The Dukes of Stratosphear were born! 

The rules were simple – all tracks had to sound something from the late 60’s with suitable psychedelic credentials. Furthermore, nothing was allowed more than two takes. Six tracks were completed in two weeks and Andy created a suitable piece of trippy cover artwork – 25 O’clock hit the world like a wet, surreal lettuce. 

They were deluding themselves if they thought they could release it and remain incognito – but release it they did, as a 1985 mini-album. To their amazement, it subsequently outsold both Mummer and the Big Express and was a smash in the USA. 

The first track, 25 O’clock is pure Electric Prunes, while Bike Ride To The Moon is, as Sir John insists, “complete and utter Cambridge,” in a thinly-veiled reference to the king of British psychedelia, the wonderfully loony Syd Barrett. 

A cross between Pink Floyd’s Bike and The Move’s I Can Hear The Grass Grow, it’s “just daft,” according to Lord Plum. It’s also pretty damn perfect as a piece of bubblegum psychedelia. 

My Love Explodes nods very firmly in the direction of India and all things swami and mystic. But it’s the lyrical content which gives the game away – it could only ever be about an orgasm (one of Andy’s favourite things!), hence the vociferous complaint at the end. This was a genuine listener’s tirade to a New York radio station which played “Go Fuck Yourself With Your Atom Bomb” by The Fugs – the line is played in reverse on the fade-out. 

The Mole From The Ministry is a story about that most sixties of pastimes, paranoia – the cold war, spies and moles and everything being controlled by nameless, faceless men in bowler hats. Ladle on lashings of I Am The Walrus and A Day In The Life and hey presto, a classic. 

Andy: "The amount of bands that have contacted John Leckie because of that record is amazing. Kula Shaker, the Shamen, The Stone Roses, they all wanted him to produce them because of the Dukes."

Summer’s cauldron

In 1986, six years after Black Sea – still seen then as the defining moment in XTC’s history, Virgin forced the now confirmed 3-piece into an American studio for the first time, to work with Todd Rundgren – regarded by many as the ultimate producer in the world at that time. Rundgren had been responsible for, among many others, Meat Loaf’s Bat Out Of Hell, and was regarded as the man to ‘tame’ the opinionated and argumentative Partridge. Andy wasn’t eager, but the reactions of Moulding and Gregory when Rundgren was pitched to them convinced him to give it a go. 

In his Utopia Studios complex in the Catskill Mountains in upstate New York, Todd was boss – "ludicrously bright chap, shockingly apt arranger," maintains Andy, but from the band's point of view also arrogant, sarcastic and coldly impervious to Andy's usual tactics for getting his own way. 

 

Dave: "It was just nasty and unnecessarily unpleasant. Todd got the measure of Andy's conceit, shall we say, and played on it. He'd deliberately belittle him if he thought he was getting too big for his boots. Andy rose to the bait every time."

In personal terms, in was a disaster, relations between producer and band (in particular, Andy, surprise surprise) breaking down almost immediately. One day during recording even the mild-mannered Colin stormed out of the studio in disgust at their bickering – he returned two days later, but to this day he’s never withdrawn the resignation note he handed to Andy before starting to play again. 

However, in professional terms, Rundgren wrought the best out of all three and the resulting Skylarking (right) is still regarded by many as XTC’s seminal work – a thinly-disguised concept album that has held together like no XTC album before or since. 

With hindsight, even Andy could see how well it worked: “Todd Rundgren squeezed the XTC clay into its most complete/connected/cyclical record ever. Not an easy album to make for various ego reasons but time has humbled me into admitting that Todd conjured up some of the most magical production and arranging conceivable. A summer's day cooked into one cake.” 

Although another quote from around recording time shows what they were up against from Virgin: “When we delivered Skylarking, they told us it didn't have any singles on it and we should go a write something in the style of ZZ Top.” 

Anyway, a concept album? Well, back up a second – where the rock Gods of this world make their concept albums grandiose statements about blind pinball players, growing up a traumatised child in the war or even the six wives of Henry VIII (thanks, Rick Wakeman), XTC’s concept album was about . . . well, a summer’s day! To his credit, it was Rundgren who saw the possibilities of this concept inherent within the batch of songs Andy & Colin sent ahead – compiling a running order before the band even arrived at the studio (much to Andy’s annoyance, of course!). 


Partidge, Skylarking about

Skylarking is a beautiful and coherent body of work which bears countless repeated listenings and which rarely fails to twang the heartstrings. Immaculately produced by Rundgren, this is summer in a bottle, with its birds, breezes, insects and meetings in warm twighlit evenings for a kiss and cuddle. At times it sounds almost as if XTC were conforming to their own stereotype – the quirky, eccentric Englishmen strumming acoustics by the village green – but in truth this was an album that they simply had to make. If you only ever buy one XTC album in your life, make it this one. 

Skylarking also broke XTC in America – in a way no-one could have expected. One day in 1985, Partridge had seen a book entitled “Dear God”, a cloying, sickly-sweet book of letters supposedly written to God by children. He was appalled at what he saw as a sick exploitation of children, especially as he had recently concluded there was no God. 

He had the idea of a song about a child’s letter to God, questioning God’s very existence, which he entitled Dear God. However, after finishing the song, he was unhappy with the result – he felt the subject was simply too big to fit into a four-minute pop song and decided not to put it on the album. However, with Rundgren’s help and encouragement, it was released as the B-side to the first single release Grass

American DJs discovered it and within days the record was attracting heavy airplay – but of Dear God and not Grass. The song attracted rave reviews and death threats simultaneously – America gets highly passionate about its religion! The Bible Belt was incensed, the colleges adored it. The album was recalled in America and re-pressed with Dear God included. Despite Andy’s efforts to the contrary, Dear God made XTC a cult sensation in America. 

Andy: "Mail started to arrive and it was half 'you've voiced what I've been thinking for years' and half 'you're going to roast in Hell'. A Florida radio station even received a bomb-threat and a disaffected student held up a high-school secretary at knife-point in New York State, demanding that Dear God be played over the school public address system!”

Dear God helped Skylarking sell a quarter of a million copies, and XTC entered 1987 having found a whole new audience of American college kids. 

Skylarking contains a slew of absolute classics, beginning with the opening tracks Summer’s Cauldron and the single Grass. A testament to the genius of Rundgren, nobody but he saw how well these two songs could segue into each other, especially as the former was written by Partridge and the latter by Moulding. But meld they do, Andy kicking things off with a rush of insects, birds and lyrics which invoke temperatures in the 90s and the need for a cooling drink. It’s a lazy day in the sun, too hot to move – and shows a level of lyrical maturity that was beginning to set Andy apart from his peers. When Colin kicks in with Grass, dedicated to Coate Water in Swindon – for years a place for young lovers to get drunk and fool around – the cycle of the opening tracks is complete. 

That’s Really Super Supergirl is one of Andy’s songs about the flip side of being dumped, replete with myriad superhero references and a peach of a Dave Gregory guitar solo, while Earn Enough For Us is the great lost Beatles song. A memory of the days when Andy had ‘a real job’ mixing paint at Tunley’s Paint Shop for a pittance, while watching the rain come through the holes in his ceiling. Dave let rip with his Harrison guitar style and the song should have been a single – it wasn’t, thanks Virgin. 

It was also the song which saw Colin’s epic storm-out, informing Andy how he could best use his rectum as a guitar case. It says much for the partnership that this was the first time this had happened – and the last. 

The triptych of Ballet For A Rainy Day, One Thousand Umbrellas and Season Cycle, which occurs in the middle of the record, is Andy at his best. Beautifully written melodies, full of hooks and catchy lyrics about love, loss and the inevitable march of time. It’s really wonderful stuff. 

Then comes Another Satellite. Whether Andy liked it or not, Erica Wexler had become part of his life since they had fallen for each other in the early eighties. Whenever he was in America, “there was wacky Wex, like a rash,” says Dave. She also had a habit of writing long, pleading letters to Andy, gumming up the atmosphere between him and Marianne.


Dear God's UK single release cover art
While he tried to pass her off as the nutty fan, he knew deep down the attraction was mutual. He was also determined to stay loyal to his marriage, and his new daughter Holly, whom he doted on. Confused and frustrated, he wrote Another Satellite in a clumsy attempt to warn Erica off. It’s a beautiful song which he hates, because it hurt Erica deeply. 

My heart is taken it's not lost in space
And I don't want to see your mooney mooney face
I say why on earth do you revolve around me
Aren't you aware of the gravity
Don't need another satellite

I'm happy standing on my feet of clay
I have no wish to swim your milky milky way
I say why on earth do you send your letters 'round here
Only to gum up the atmosphere
Don't need another satellite

This is followed by the infamous and America-splitting Dear God (left). Now it’s fair to say that religion is a highly personal issue. Figure this one out for yourself. 

Skylarking finishes with two Colin Moulding tracks – firstly, the dark and disturbing Dying in which Colin recalls his childhood fear of going the same way as his old and lonely grandfather. 

It frightens me when you come to mind
The day you dropped in the shopping line
And my heart beats faster when I think of all the signs

When they carried you out your mouth was open wide
The cat went astray and the dog did pine for days and days
And we felt so guilty when we played you up
When you were ill, so ill

What sticks in my mind is the sweet jar
On the sideboard. And your multicoloured tea cosy

What sticks in my mind is the dew-drop hanging off your nose
Shrivelled up and blue

And I'm getting older, too
But I don't want to die like you
Don't want to die like you  

This was followed by the haunting Sacrificial Bonfire. A pagan-sounding riff and a story straight out of an Iron Age ritual, again it was Rundgren who lifted this from the good to the great, with the strings pulling the riff into Vivaldi territory in the second verse and adding a level of menace only hinted at in the original. 

The Dukes – again, already!

Skylarking took a lot out of the band and a relaxant was needed, so along came the Dukes again. This time, 1987’s Psonic Psunspot was a full-on album. Recorded at Sawmills Studio in Cornwall – accessible only by boat! – and with genuine record company interest, this wasn’t as much fun as 25 O’Clock. But it was still fun! 

The Dukes had the inspired idea of linking the songs through an Alice In Wonderland type tale and tried all the harder to make their pastiches true to the bands they were taking off. In this it was a spectacular success. 

Vanishing Girl, the opening track penned by The Red Curtain (Colin – remember?), was undoubtedly Hollies in origin and became a minor hit on American west coast radio, while Collideascope is arguably the Dukes’ finest moment. For a day, Sir John Johns was Sir John Johns-Lennon and penned a brutal, ugly tribute to the art house films of the sixties, capturing the raw Lennon guitar and even-rawer Lennon voice. It’s strange, surreal and simply brilliant, featuring liberal quotes from the Dukes’ favourite TV programme ‘Nearest and Dearest’ including Jimmy Jewel’s immortal “Bloody Nora!”. 

While maybe not the strongest song in the canon Pale And Precious is the great lost Beach Boys song – a gentle, almost timid opening which segues into an upbeat stomper, Pale And Precious was the song that fell off the end of Pet Sounds. 

Psonic Psunspot was the expected minor hit and was soon released along with 25 O’Clock as a compilation CD Chips From The Chocolate Fireball. However, critical acclaim for a spoof side project was not enough and a two year break – their first for many a year, saw them return in 1988 with the Dukes’ influence still strong.

Part 5