Groove IN THE
LIVING COLOUR, VIVID (EPIC, 1988) Let’s dig out a bass-heavy LP from the vault. This month: Living Colour’s 1988 debut.
Direct from New York City in 1988 came an absolute phenomenon – a band who straddled the metal scene, and added punk, soul, hip-hop, jazz and funk to their output. The group was Living Colour, who spelled their name in the British style for reasons best known to themselves, and the album that introduced them, Vivid, was unlike anything else that had come before. The Eighties are sometimes incorrectly derided as being a musical graveyard, but anyone who starts heading down that dead end will be brought back to reality by Vivid, which takes what it wants from where it wants, packages it courtesy of an incredibly-talented band, delivering both credible, challenging riffs and lyrics while charging into the mainstream with its accessibility.
Established in 1984 by songwriter and guitarist Vernon Reid, the group settled into a stable line-up in 1986 with Corey Glover on vocals, Will Calhoun on drums and the talented Muzz Skillings on bass. His lines are melodic, complex and dynamic throughout, and there’s a solo for the ages on ‘Broken Hearts’ that shows off his outstanding chops to the fullest.
While Skillings never barges into a track unwanted, the solid dexterity he brings to the album opener ‘Cult Of Personality’ is both supple and subtle, bringing the funk and metal sides of the band together with aplomb. His is the anchor of the Chilis-esque ‘Middle Man’, a consistent, rhythmic pulse that gives plenty of space for the song to develop around it. The sheer range of styles that the band are able to meld is astonishing: there’s straightahead Seventies rock on ‘Desperate People’ and a reggae tinge on ‘Glamour Boys’ – and check out the slaps and pops in ‘I Need To Know’ for proof that the bassist is comfortable with it all. Skillings is groovy, harmonic, and absolutely in conversation with Calhoun.
The record is politically-tinged, too: ‘Open Letter (To a Landlord)’ fizzes with righteous anger and determined resistance in the face of gentrification, and ‘Funny Vibe’ talks of being side-eyed by pedestrians. There’s a great hip-hop slap line from Skillings that showcases his absolute mastery of his instrument.
Intriguingly, after this album and its followup, 1990’s Time’s Up, Skillings departed the band and did his own thing on the quiet. The bassist had left on the crest of a wave thanks to the hit ‘Love Rears Its Ugly Head’. Living Colour soon unveiled the Sugarhill Gang and Grandmaster Flash veteran Doug Wimbish as their low-end superstar, and Skillings has performed with his former bandmates on occasion, both as a guest star and slotting right back in when Wimbish was otherwise occupied. Over the years, he has also busied himself with multi-instrumental adventures, including solo projects such as Medicine Stick. Luckily for us, we have both Vivid and Time’s Up as flawless classics.
“Anyone who considers the Eighties to be a musical graveyard will be brought back to reality by Vivid”