Tag Archives: Colour of Spring

Mark Hollis RIP

Anyone hearing The Party’s Over in 1982 might not have seen it coming, but Talk Talk’s Mark Hollis was a rare thing in pop music: a genuine original. Over the course of five albums, from The Party’s Over to 1991’s Laughing Stock, he guided Talk Talk’s evolution from Duran-aping synth-pop B-leaguers to avant-garde experimentalists.

Throughout it all, Hollis never lost his compositional savvy, even as the structures of the songs became looser and more extended. You can’t write It’s My Life, I Don’t Believe You or Life’s What You Make It and be deaf to the charms of melody. Nevertheless, the Talk Talk that made Spirit of Eden and Laughing Stock placed more emphasis on mood, atmosphere and texture than immediately accessible tunes. Consequently, even as their art became more powerful and distinctive, the group began to fade commercially, and found themselves sneeringly dismissed by critics who didn’t like (or in some cases even get) what they were doing.*

Mark Hollis passed away on Monday at the age of 64 after a short illness. Tributes poured in from musicians and fans, a real gamut-running selection, a who’s who of the last 20 years of music. Talk Talk do seem to have inspired a particularly passionate devotion in a lot of people. It’s not just the gorgeous, detailed arrangements and the loving care lavished on instrument sounds by engineer Phill Brown. It’s the vulnerability of Hollis’s voice, I think. An unusual voice – quavery, a little thin, a little forced-sounding, and consequently very human. His voice made more sense the more records the group made: by Spirit of Eden it was impossible to imagine any voice inhabiting those songs but Hollis’s.

After Talk Talk released their final album, Hollis made one solo record (after a gap of seven years), and was then basically done. He wanted to concentrate on being a father and couldn’t do that as a working musician. What an admirable choice to make, and how admirable the resolution he showed in sticking to it. Hollis’s life in music was exemplary in many ways, and perhaps in that way most of all.

RIP, Mark.

*Spirit of Eden and Laughing Stock both made the top 40 of the albums chart in the UK, but the group had no hit singles with new material after Life’s What You Make It. So it’s not true to say that SoE and LS sunk without trace, which is an implication I’ve seen a lot over the last few days.

**The 1992 Rolling Stone Albums Guide gave Spirit of Eden precisely one star – “Instead of getting better or worse, this band simply grew more pretentious with each passing year”

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Lo Moon @ Omeara, 23/05/18

Like everyone else when they first hear Lo Moon, my response was incredulity. How had Talk Talk or Mark Hollis’s lawyer not issued a copyright-infringement suit against the band, or at least against singer Matt Lowell’s vocal cords? As absurd as Lowell’s similarity to Hollis is, though, I found that I liked the music anyway, and Real Love and This Is It became part of my regular listening.

The other day I got round to checking out the whole of the group’s self-titled debut album, so I’d be prepared for their debut London show, which took place at Omeara last night. The album is, I think, a qualified success. It’s worryingly top heavy (ten songs long, and with only Real Love really bolstering the back half), but there’s still five or six excellent tracks on there. The album has been impressively produced by Chris Walla and Francois Tetaz, and mixed by the reliably great Michael Brauer, so it sounds first rate, too.

The mix of prominent drums, icy synths and reverb-drenched guitars is, of course, hugely ’80s-tastic, and in serious debt to Colour of Spring-era Talk Talk and Songs from the Big Chair-era Tears for Fears; there’s not much here you haven’t heard other artists do first. But Lo Moon basically get away with it – partly because the best stuff (Real Love, This is It, Loveless, Thorns and Do the Right Thing) is too good for it to really matter how obviously it apes its influences, but also because there’s something so guileless about Lo Moon’s borrowing that it’s hard to hold it against them. It’s not like they’re jumping on an already established Talk Talk bandwagon here, although possibly they’re unknowingly creating one.

So last night I went with Sara and fellow copy editor Nick to see them at Omeara, the first show of a 2-night stand at at the venue. We arrived just in time for Lo Moon to come on and, while the gig was listed as sold out on the venue website, the room didn’t feel quite full – a few no-shows maybe, but a solid turn-out. Thankfully, the sound mix was clear and lucid, unlike last time I went there, where the sound problems clearly put the band off.

Live, the band are very impressive. Matt Lowell seems a little awkward between songs, but he hits all the high notes cleanly and swaps between guitar and piano adeptly. Guitarist Sam Stewart (son of the Eurythmics’ Dave Stewart, but we won’t hold his dad’s music against him) works mainly in texture, since his melodic parts are so simple, and he does it very well. He and bassist Crisanta Baker did an excellent job of recreating the recorded arrangements by playing extra synth parts and triggering stuff – few young bands have their stage sound figured out so smartly or split the load between themselves so efficiently. There are no passengers in Lo Moon.

That includes touring drummer Stirling Laws, who was commanding from behind the kit. I don’t know whether he played drums on the album, but he played those (very astutely arranged) drum parts flawlessly: he balanced the kit well, provided an authoritative backbeat and his right foot socked home, whether it was the simple 4/4 of Real Love or the swung, syncopated kick pattern of Loveless. The latter song also features mighty triplet floor-tom rolls in the chrous, and Laws pounded them out with real power and verve.

A young band touring their first album necessarily can’t play a long set, which turned out to their advantage. In the longer term, Lo Moon might need to vary their palette a little to keep audiences with them for 90 minutes or more, since so many of their songs are long and mid-tempo. But their current live show is impressive for a band that’s still developing.