1991... ...We salute you!
ONE of the best music books I’ve read in recent years is David Hepworth’s Never a Dull Moment. In it, Hepworth argues that 1971 is the greatest year of all time for rock music, and given what was foisted upon the world, it is difficult to disagree.
Some real big hitters put out some of their best work. Sticky Fingers by the Stones. Joni Mitchell’s stunning Blue. The Doors’ final album with Jim Morrison, LA Woman. And Marvin Gaye’s magnum opus, What’s Going On.
And these are just the tip of a very large iceberg. Other artists that put out great records in 1971 include David Bowie, the Faces, Carole King, Led Zeppelin, John Lennon, Sly and the Family Stone, and The Who.
These great records are 50-years-old this year, and most sound as fresh and exciting as they did all those years ago.
And though they appeared a little before my time, I can appreciate and relate to them just as much as those that have a few more years on me.
But although I have much love for some of those artists and the records mentioned, they aren’t ‘mine’. They belong to my parents and their generation. My time came a couple of decades later.
Fast forward to 1991, and I was in my final days at high school, though at the time, I was probably paying more attention to what I was reading in Melody Maker and the NME.
And I had a little part-time job after school and at the weekend, the proceeds of which I handed over – in the main – to Brian Mack at Tunstall’s Replay Records.
And 1991 was a great year for buying records, both singles and long players, and I indulged heavily in both. Although I knew it was a good year, I probably didn’t appreciate how good. In hindsight, 1991 is one of the great years for rock music, right up there with 1971.
Nirvana went global with the release of Nevermind, a record that included their signature track, Smells Like Teen Spirit, one of the greatest pieces of music ever written.
Another U.S. band that became global superstars in 1991 were REM. Although they were already quite popular, the release of Out Of Time put them on another level, led by opening single Losing My Religion.
Massive Attack put out their timeless debut album Blue Lines and the still remarkable Unfinished Sympathy. Alongside Oasis’ debut Definitely Maybe, Blue Lines encapsulated the post-thatcher culture of urban Britain.
At the back-end of the 1980s, U2 were arguably the biggest band in the world. But – in their own words – they got the feeling that they’d become the world’s expensive jukebox, and announced their intention to go away and ‘dream it all up again’.
And in 1991 they released Achtung Baby, which was preceded by The Fly, which was unlike anything the band had ever released.
But the year’s best record – in my eyes – was Primal Scream’s Screamadelica. The band’s early work was Byrdsy-tinged jangle-pop which saw them lumped in with the C86 crowd.
But after dabbling in the acid house scene and developing a liking for it, they met with DJ Andrew Weatherall and handed him a tape of their track I’m Losing More Than I’ll Ever Have, and from that, he created Loaded described by dance bible Muzik as ‘akin to Sympathy For The Devil for the E generation’. And its parent album was something else, underpinned by Weatherall’s production and the late Denise Johnson’s sexy and dreamy vocals.
From the Stonesy opener Movin’ On Up to the trippy closer Shine Like Stars and everything in between, Screamadelica sounds like a record from someplace else.
And there was a lot more from the likes of Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine, the KLF, and My Bloody Valentine.
And this year, all of these records turn 30-years-old. In fact, they’re older now than the records of the Stones, Marvin Gaye and the Doors were when I bought them. Yet it only seems like yesterday.
It’s fair to say that I don’t buy records in the volume that I did back in 1991, but I still get excited by good new bands and music, including the many local bands and artists that are doing great things in Stoke-on-trent.
But will I ever see another 1991? I certainly hope that I do.