Friday, 21 November 2025

Why Didn't You Tell Me? (Part Eleven)

 

There can be something oddly pleasant about being discombobulated. There sometimes is a certain pleasure to be found in having one’s conceptions challenged. This may be particularly true of the arts. It may apply to times when your understanding about a certain sphere of activity is turned upside down and inside out. Just take, for instance, Brenda Ray’s Walatta which is one of my most-played CDs over the past year-and-a-half. It is a record around 20-years-old, but it is only relatively recently that I have been aware of it, and that was all down to a seemingly random Spotify recommendation, which in true try-before-you-buyify style made me rush to track down a physical copy.

The name of this Brenda Ray meant nothing to me at the time, except I was sure it wasn’t the lady of that name who sang on a number of wonderful old 1960s soul sides. I was certainly very taken with the cover shot of Brenda sitting on the shore playing a melodica, wearing a red fez, yellow polo shirt, rolled chinos, battered checkerboard Vans, work shirt. And now I understand where my rogue algorithmic guardian angel was coming from: “Okay, this guy likes listening to Augustus Pablo and old torch song ballads, so this is what we should recommend.”

Walatta is a wonderfully strange record. It was initially released by the Merseyside-based Tamoki-Wambesi-Dove, part of a stable of labels run by Roy Cousins, a name I recognise from The Royals and the Pick Up The Pieces CD Pressure Sounds put out in 2002 which has become a favourite of mine and contains some of the greatest examples of the Jamaican roots trio harmony artform. If you know that record, then imagine something like the backing tracks reused for a singer who sounds a little like the great Joan Greenwood (as in The Man in the White Suit) might have if she’d unleashed her inner Peggy Lee.

Looking at the CD and, as you do, also looking up some background information on Brenda Ray, I realised she had been part of Naffi or Naafi Sandwich which was a name I recognised from my teens through a single they released on Manchester’s Absurd imprint, which I am pretty sure I never heard at the time. I seem to recall being suspicious of Absurd (a sort of successor to Rabid) and some associated silliness (e.g. Blah Blah Blah, Bet Lynch’s Legs) which I would have been far too snobbish to waste time on. In retrospect, that was maybe harsh as The Mothmen were on Absurd initially, before being snapped up by Adrian Sherwood, and they turned out to have all sorts of pretty cool connections, such as Suns of Arqa and the Blood & Fire label.

Presumably I first consciously heard Naffi on the 2007 Soul Jazz compilation DIY – Do It Yourself: The Rise Of The Independent Music Industry After Punk where they were smartly placed between Fire Engines and Swell Maps (no definite articles here) with their ‘Slice 2’ which made perfect sense. I can remember thinking that this track was not at all what I was expecting. Oddly, I didn’t investigate further, and being a promo copy in a card sleeve there were no biographical notes. Typically, I lost the CD for years, and it only turned up recently, prompting all this. Well, that’s my story and I’m sticking by that.

The two ‘slices’ that made up the Naffi Absurd 45 are a mad mix of raggedy rockabilly, deep dub and primitive electronics, and I guess from that time could be compared loosely to Suicide dreaming of Sun Records or Cabaret Voltaire covering The Seeds. With the benefit of hindsight, one senses the influence of Roger Eagle’s infamous jukebox at Eric’s and the records he would play between bands which provided a musical education for young impressionable minds. Brenda actually pays tribute to Roger on her Walatta CD.

I have also read that Brenda with brother Gerry Kenny were involved with jazz nights at Eric’s with their musical project Inside Out during the final days of the club in early 1980. Certainly, Brenda and Gerry (who essentially were Naffi) had a far wider musical vocabulary or richer musical palette than the teenage me at the time, which is an age thing I guess and all about the circles one moves in.

Brenda and Gerry (aka Sir Freddie Viadukt) in the 1980s had a bewildering array of releases in different guises and iterations, such as Naffi, Naaffi Sandwich, Naffi-Locksman and Brenda & the Beach Balls, on a variety of labels, including a series of cassettes on their own Rum set-up and at least one LP for the ARK imprint which was a Pete Fulwell affair. The association with Pete is another link to Eric’s, and while I was aware of his Inevitable and Eternal labels (mainly through the Wah! connections: Brenda’s on A Word to the Wise Guy by The Mighty Wah! incidentally), I have no recollection of ARK. Tellingly among the ARK releases is the compilation dada For Now: A Collection of Dada Futurist and Dada Soundworks.



 

As a rebuttal to the cynics who bemoan the fact that everything is available too easily nowadays, much of the Naffi-related back catalogue is tantalisingly difficult to access, and original vinyl is much sought-after. There have been a couple of compilations on the Osaka-based EM label, but I missed those. EM also reissued Brenda’s Walatta in 2011 with a variation of the original artwork. Meanwhile, Brenda has her own Bandcamp page, and that is well worth exploring.

Someone has helpfully posted on YouTube Naffi’s Yum Yum Yum Yum Ya (you see what I mean about the humour?) LP from 1982, where the younger Brenda sounds rather less husky. Again, it is a record I have no recollection of whatsoever, which is odd as I would have adored their rather English eccentric DIY experimental cut ’n’ paste take on the disco dub template of the time. In a skewed way the LP sounds not far from contemporaneous activity on the 99 / Y / ZE axis, with Bob Blank or Adrian Sherwood at the controls, and suggestions of Maximum Joy, Aural Exciters, and so on.

Amid the japes, I particularly love the gorgeous version of ‘Every Day Just Another Dream’ which I had certainly never heard before and which nobody told me about … as far as I remember. Improbably its vocal melody reminds me of the Jazzateers’ ‘Can It Be’ from the Postcard-era version of the group with Alison singing: one of my favourite things. There was a later Latin-flavoured version of ‘Every Day’ on the 1986 Brenda and the Beach Balls Volume One EP, which fits. The opening track on that EP is the striking ‘Rain Keeps Falling’, which has a great Sleeping Bag / Sugarhill street soul feel, not dissimilar to some of the things Adrian Sherwood was experimenting with at the time. Coincidentally or not, the EP sleeve gives a nod to Fats Comet.

Buried within the Naffi back catalogue there is a fantastic dubby twisted take on lovers rock called ‘Spring Thing Hippy Dread’ which seems to be particularly apt as one of the ‘hits’ on the radio (NTS in my case) this Summer was ‘Simply Conscious Dub’, the first ‘archival’ release on Toronto’s Spiritual World label. When I first heard it, and was instantly hooked, I assumed it was a new variation on the dub template. There is a lot of that kind of thing around, and much of it is excellent. But no. According to the label blurb this was a track from a mid-1980s cassette-only release by The Ullulators, “an experimental dub and global music ensemble from Bath, long associated with the UK’s free festival movement.” Yet again, I have to confess the name meant nothing at all to me.

As a kid, being a holy innocent raised on punk rhetoric and shaped by discovering mod aesthetics, as well as people like Alan Horne and Kevin Rowland expressing contempt for perceived brown rice passivity, I don’t think it even occurred to me that hippies would find dub reggae a particularly useful soundtrack for getting or being stoned, and the concept of a bunch of hippies going on to make particularly striking dub variations of their own would have been completely alien. You live and learn.

I doubt it helped absorbing songs like ATV’s ‘How Much Longer?’ with its swipes at the hippies making peace signs, man, and talking about “the festivals, Moorcock and Floyd” as well as The Fall’s ‘Two Steps Back’ where M.E.S. describes free festivals as “cinemas with no films.” Although, perversely, both groups would play the free festival circuit, and Grant Showbiz, with recording links to both ATV and The Fall, came from that hippy milieu and did the sound for Here & Now who were central to that scene and who shared a live LP with ATV.

Anyway, so yes, The Ullulators came from that free festival community. I have no recollection of seeing the name in the 1980s, though I certainly was aware of but probably never heard Ozric Tentacles, with whom there was overlap, and the name of one member, Nick Van Gelder, is familiar from his time with The Sandals and Jamiroquai, Acid Jazz acts who were never really my cup of tea. Talking of which, if the magnificence of ‘Simply Conscious Dub’ should send you off to explore the early Ullulators cassettes (they are on the group’s Bandcamp site) be warned that other tracks on these may not appeal if you are allergic to extended space rock guitar freak-outs: “No, not those guitars …”

The Toronto-based label Spiritual World that put out ‘Simply Conscious Dub’ on a limited edition 12” has by stealth become one of my favourite things of the past year. I first came across the imprint a little late via the Bluish Green EP by T3AL which at the time seemed gloriously enigmatic: a collection of tracks with flute very much to the fore and, as I have said elsewhere, a strong sense of Jessica Pratt set adrift on dubby bliss with the modern-day Ultramarine. It’s a gorgeous, seductive affair, and is very likely to appeal to anyone who still loves Martine Girault’s ‘Revival’ (“shadows dance all across the wall”), A Man Called Adam’s ‘Easter Song’, Marina Van Rooy’s ‘Sly One’, Carly Simon’s ‘Why?’, ‘RobertaFlack’ by Flying Lotus with Ahu, and above all a Tricky-less ‘Aftermath’. You get the idea.

By all accounts this EP was the result of a long-planned and ultimately pretty spontaneous studio session, which seems remarkable as the songs are really strong. I like the fact much of the label’s activities are shrouded in mystery, with incidental details slipping out, like Bluish Green being a family affair, featuring the Ball Sisters and N1_SOUND, if that helps. Melissa is the singer whispering secrets in our ears. Her sister Ashleigh Ball, rather wonderfully a voice actor in real life, plays the flute. The producer N1_SOUND is, I believe, Melissa’s partner.



Another EP or mini-LP, Original Watercolour, credited to Teal, followed this Summer and was very much a highlight of the season’s soundtrack for me. It takes the Bluish Green template and develops it further, so it felt right for sultry nights when the sun’s disappearing, and a breeze begins to make things more comfortable. The flute is very much in the lead again, and there is some continuity as the expansive instrumental ‘Frog Kingdom’ connects to ‘Frog Legacy’ on the earlier release.

Melissa (or Bally) and N1_SOUND have also released records on Spiritual World as Y’KNOW. Initially there was a 12” featuring ‘Motion Sickness’ and ‘Something’ at the start of 2024, followed by an EP, Why Now?, in the Autumn which was lovers rock by way of sweet electro pop, complete with four vocal tracks and superb spaced-out old-school dub versions on the flip. Sister Ashleigh with her flute joins in the fun on the dub mix of ‘Treat Me Nice’.

I first heard N1_SOUND’s own recordings via the Din Sync Dub set, which came out on Spiritual World at the end of February this year. Tellingly, the label’s Bandcamp page for this release goes into detail about the record’s origins and how it “looks back to 1980, drawing inspiration from Roland’s Din Sync – a 40-year-old synchronization technology once used to link musical machines in perfect harmony.” My knowledge of vintage recording equipment is basic to say the least, but reading the occasional missives from the label it is easy to see that N1_SOUND is deeply immersed in this world while simultaneously making music that still sounds like the future. I sense that this meshing of contradictions is at the heart of the label’s music.

Din Sync Dub is made up of six gloriously inventive variations on the digital dub template. It is not unprecedented music, and there are many artists who are experimenting with similar ingredients, but there is something inherently magical in what N1_SOUND is doing that really connects emotionally and stimulates the imagination while others’ work may seem overly respectful and, well, I guess a little too arid, almost like participating in reenactment rituals.

The first Spiritual World releases were two EPs or rather two volumes by D’JOHN of When Dubs Cry. Is it safe to assume this was N1_SOUND in an earlier incarnation? I am not sure, but it very well might be, especially as one track is called ‘4 Ball’. The two discs are exemplary, sort of sketches for what came later by N1_SOUND whose first release in early 2024 was the MANTRAS 12” which was inspired by Cabaret Voltaire’s Three Mantras or, in the label’s own words, was rather “an homage to this incredible piece of music while actually sounding very little like its obscure and largely uncelebrated reference.”

It genuinely doesn’t sound like Three Mantras but the spirit is there, and the two tracks are highly addictive, with a cyclical bass line which Jah Wobble would approve of, shards of wah-wah guitar that suggest Mark Day circa ‘Freaky Dancin’’ improvising in the studio while Paul Ryder plays variations on the bassline for ‘The Egg’ and maybe Paul Davis, having pinched producer Bernard’s melodica, plays along to Zap Pow’s ‘River Stone’ which is on his Walkman headphones while Gaz Whelan has some fun in the corner with Kalima’s congas. Coincidentally or not, just about the only review I could find was one on Ban Ban Ton Ton which throws in a comparison to ACR moonlighting as Sir Horatio back in 1981 on the ‘Abracadubra’ / ‘Sommadub’ 12” which seems pretty shrewd to me.

A couple of months later N1_SOUND put out the Shake Your Trunk EP, and by this stage the sound had really started to settle into a cohesive pattern, with the burbling Ultramarine electronics and the dub stylings, this time with elements of Basic Channel / Rhythm & Sound added to the mix. Spiritual World pitch the record as “four tracks of thumping dub, designed for driving slow, windows down and letting your trunk rattle itself into oblivion.” Somehow that puts me in mind of War’s immortal ‘Low Rider’ which makes perfect sense.

The other Spiritual World hit of this Summer was the N1_SOUND dub reinvention of Michael Cloud Duguay’s ‘People Have A Right To Build’ which is ridiculously good. I know only a little about Michael, which is that he is a composer, producer, improvisor, experimentalist, with links to the artistic community in Peterborough, Ontario. The original version of ‘People …’ appears on his most recent LP Wobbly Yonder (released on his own Watch That Ends The Night label and ‘People’ seems something of an anomaly on the record) and is a wild jazz adventure: the acoustic bass motif at the start is one of my favourite things, and I think the very great Joshua Abrams would approve enthusiastically.

The dub version by N1_SOUND exaggerates the post-punk elements of the original, taking it into vintage 23 Skidoo territory, intentionally or not. On the flip there is an old school DJ version, ‘The Valley’, with I Jahbar coming on strongly like an old testament prophet, Prince Far I-style. Coincidentally or not, Prince Far I is a ghostly presence on a version of ‘Sweet Sweet Wine’ on Brenda Ray’s Walatta: there is a connection there as Roy Cousins was working with the Prince on an LP before his murder.  

WordSound, the Brooklyn-based ‘illbient’ label, is cited as an influence on this DJ version of ‘People …’. These references fascinate me. WordSound was not a label I took notice of in the latter-half of the 1990s, for some reason (too much happening, I suspect), but I have been having fun going back and investigating. If I remember rightly, it’s the sort of imprint that would get coverage in The Wire, which was my pop reading material of choice for a while, so some of the names are familiar, like the Crooklyn Dub Consortium / Certified Dope series of compilations, though I strongly suspect the title put me off.

I had no idea though that one of the early WordSound releases was the excellent Interpretive Belief System set by him, or Doug Scharin (Directions in Music etc.) and colleagues, including Ui’s Sasha Frere-Jones. I also have to confess I wasn’t aware of the next record (as HIM), Sworn Eyes on Perishable, which features a dream core group of Doug Scharin with Bundy K. Brown, Rob Mazurek and Jeff Parker, recorded in 1999, so once again I am in serious danger of being thrown out of the Chicago Underground Appreciation Society. Sworn Eyes sounds fantastic, and on first impressions it seems as great as Tortoise’s TNT and Isotope 217’s The Unstable Molecule. So how the hell has this eluded me until now?

The most recent release on Spiritual World is Inna DJ Style, a showcase set by N1_SOUND with Ras Yunchie, a veteran performer on the Toronto soundsystem scene, which ventures into Smith & Mighty / Rhythm & Sound with Tikiman territory, with four vocal cuts and four dubs. Working with and embracing tradition, sure, but somehow still managing to feel like a way forward. The vocal performances are great, and sound spontaneous, though perhaps predictably the meditative almost-ambient dub versions are the ones that work best for me. I think it’s fair to say they are closer to the subtle, stately work of the Disciples or Alpha & Omega in the early 1990s than the more baroque Jamaican antecedents.

So, back to that Ullulators archive 12” which has on its flipside ‘Eternal Now’, a 1985 recording that Spiritual World says “evokes the kosmische tradition and aligns with the spatial sensibilities of Manuel Göttsching’s E2-E4”. It’s extraordinarily beautiful and has certainly got that Ashra and wider Virgin vibe (Can, Gong, Tangerine Dream, Steve Hillage, that sort of thing). If I had heard it in 1985, would I have succumbed? To be honest, probably not, but it’s got that meditative electronic listening / ambient sound that I couldn’t get enough of in the 1990s (interestingly, there is a direct link from the Ullulators to Eat Static, although I don’t recall ever listening to them either, being an inveterate snob). And, remarkably, ‘Eternal Now’ sounds incredibly contemporary, which seems apt as there are many artists right now creating excellent music using the same sort of ideas.

Coincidentally or not, a more recent release by Brenda Ray also explores similar territory. This is her Digidrifts EP, released as a 12” on Manchester’s Aficionado Recordings back in 2017, but still available digitally. Characteristically, I had no idea of its existence until recently. But it is remarkably beautiful, especially with Brenda’s ghostly vocal colouration occasionally adding to the meditative feel. And, while we are back with Brenda, I must mention that I stumbled across a mix she made for the In Sheeps Clothing site a few years ago of sounds to enlighten the soul and lift the spirits, which I suspect we are all in need of.

 


No comments:

Post a Comment