Posted October 21, 2001
UN SAISON AVEC LES FUSILES CELIBATAIRES
The band o' the hour at my house: the Celibate Rifles. Who else
has conducted such a spot-on critique of modern society, with loud electric
guitars? (Did I hear somebody say Gang of Four? Nah, those Pommy Reds went
disco too quickly!) Who else can write 'em and play 'em as well as the Rifles,
and more importantly, time after time, put it all together in the recording
studio? More to the point, who else has done it so long and so consistently?
I
recently had my interest in the Rifles rekindled by reading the article in
the latest Big Takeover wherein Steve Gardner briefly recaps the Rifles' history
(as well as the New Christs' and Died Pretty's) and the lengthy Gardner interview
with Damien Lovelock on the NKVD Records
website upon which the BTO article is partially based. For the next coupla
months, with ace guitarist/producer Kent Steedman back in Oz from his spiritual
retreat in the woods of Oregon, Antipodean fans can dig the Rifles' live fury,
while we here in the States must await the imminent domestic release (on Real
O Mind) of "Mid-Stream of Consciousness" to experience the same
thrills vicariously.
Consider Gardner's other two subjects: while both the New Christs and Died
Pretty have had great runs and produced a coupla classic albums, their output
has been more uneven (not to mention less prolific) than the Rifles'. Chalk
it up to shifting personnel, perhaps. Since their inception, Rob Younger's
been the only consistent element in the New Christs (and it appears that the
demise of Man's Ruin Records, who were supposed to pay for the recording
of the New Christs' unfinished album, has put the last nail in the coffin
of the long-running lineup Rob built around Mark Wilkinson and Christian Houllemare),
while there have been two men (Ron Peno and Brett Myers) at the stable center
of Died Pretty. For the past 21 years, the Celibate Rifles' core has always
been three: the acidly idiosyncratic, fuzz-and-wah-drenched axe explorations
of Steedman, bolstered by the rock-steady buzzsaw riddim of his guitar partner
Dave Morris (the joker in the pack and the best-kept secret this side of AC/DC's
Malcolm Young), over which frontman/TV personality Damien Lovelock declaims
his thoughtful lyrics (which are socially-conscious without preaching) in
a broad, flat, Everyman's voice. Fodder for numerologists? YOU decide!!!
In fact, shortly after the release of "Mid-Stream" and the Rifles'
last series of dates, the long-serving (10 years!) engine room of Jim Leone
and Nik Rieth departed (Nik having also recently walked his gig with the New
Christs, presumably to concentrate on his bassless power trio, the Thermals),
replaced in time for the Rifles' stand on "Studio 22" by the returning
riddim team of third-time Rifle Mikey Couvret (whose power will hopefully
make up for the loss of Jim Leone's musicality and backing vocals) and Paul
Larsen (a disciple of Scott Asheton and Ron Keeley who Real O Mind
supremo and long-time Rifles fan Geoff Ginsberg reckons to be "Detroit-rock
ready in the same way that Nik Rieth is arena-rock ready"). The more
things change, uh, the more they stay the same, I guess. (And how many bands'
"old boys" would jump at such an opportunity?)
The Rifles had their shot at America in the late '80s and early '90s, when
they toured this country four times in the vanguard of an Oz assault that
also included the Hoodoo Gurus, Died Pretty (on record only), and later Asteroid
B-612; recorded two live albums at CBGBs in Manhattan (the Barman and Geoff
Ginsberg were both eyewitnesses to one of 'em); appeared on MTV's "120
Minutes" playing "Jesus On T.V.;" and were hailed by the Village
Voice as "the band of 1986." The advent of the Seattle grunge phenom
pretty effectively stalled the Stateside progress of Oz rock bands - ironic,
considering that Kent Steedman produced Mudhoney and briefly played with the
Screaming Trees, his fave band.
From their inception, joke name (play on the Sex Pistols, get it?) aside,
theRifles were ALWAYS (as Clinton Walker noted) more than just yr typical
three-chord punk band. The very first cut on their very first album has HORNS
on it, for Chrissakes. They've always had an adventurous streak that elevates
them above the general run of bands who wave the rock'n'roll flag. Perhaps
that's why, as Gardner points out, they reward repeated close listening so
well.
One thing about the Rifles: they don't sound like anybody else. They might
have influences, but they keep them fairly well-hidden. The usual referents
(the MC5, the Stooges, uh, the Ramones), while generally applicable in terms
of pure sonics, don't quite catch it. Perhaps the best clue to their provenance
is in their covers, which are legendary. Those they've recorded (by Radio
Birdman, the Only Ones, Lou Reed, Patti Smith, the Stones, Sonic's Rendezvous
Band, the Visitors, the Replacements) always seem to capture the spirit of
the song while retaining the band's own essence, never descending to mimicry,
and the ones they essay live are said to be worth the price of admission by
themselves (never having made it to one of their Boxing Day shows or their
Sydney Harbour cruise last year, I can only imagine).
Their own compositions don't readily suggest a convenient pigeonhole. For
every explosion of punk fury like "Jesus On T.V." or "Spirits,"
there's a slow, moody piece like "Excommunication" or "Living
What I Dream" - while these guys don't do the slow burn as well as, say,
the "Distemper"-era New Christs, they're definitely capable of intensity
at slower tempos. Like all the best Oz bands, the Rifles have their complement
of singalong anthems ("Wonderful Life," "O Salvation"),
but even these come with a slightly skewed perspective.
Their debut album, "Sideroxylon," had much the same feel as the
first Clash album (dunno whether it's the lyrics, some of which address the
British adventure in the Falklands, or Phil Jacquet's light touch on the drums,
reminiscent of Terry Chimes'); I dock it a notch for its echoey, trebly sound.
By "The Turgid Miasma of Existence," they were into something entirely
Other, capable of stuff as un-"punk" as the dark, droning"Sentinel"
or the meltdown at the end of "New Mistakes." I see "Roman
Beach Party" as a turning point (the moment when Steedman and Morris
found their GREAT guitar tones), and prefer the fuller, more confident sound
of "Blind Ear," the Rob Younger-produced "Heaven On a Stick,"
and "Spaceman In a Satin Suit." (Brickbats, please!) My favourite
of late has been "Platters du Jour," the 1990 compilation of early
single and EP tracks which provides proof positive that these guys are (among
many other things) the world's greatest experimental punk comedy band! Some
of the material on the new "A Mid-Stream of Consciousness" ("G's
Gone" and my personal pick, "Child of Mine") continues in the
vein of the mostly-acoustic "On the Quiet," while the old strengths
are in ample evidence on tracks like "Paddo Sharps," "I Shoulda,"
and "Wake Up."
As one who lost his faculty for remembering the words to songs around 1973,
I gotta say that I'm particularly taken with Damien Lovelock's lyrics. I'm
struck by how much smarter Damo's politics are than, say, Joe Strummer's.
For every satiric jab at the emptiness of modern consumer culture ("Where
Do I Go," "Some Kind of Feeling," "I Shoulda"), there's
a piece filled with compassion for the folks who dwell at society's margins
("Eddie," "Cold Wind," "Dream of Night"). For
every blast of vitriolic spleen like "Happy House" or "Rainforest,"
there's a gentler, more (dare I say) spiritual message like "Electric
Flowers" or "This Gift" (the latter a lovely evocation of everyone's
ideal scene). For a guy who makes his living there, Damo is pretty merciless
on the media; check out "Conflict of Instinct," "Electravision
Mantra," "S 'n' M T.V.," or "Talkback Saviour" for
proof. Almost unheard of among rock songwriters, he avoids getting hung up
on his own perspective (the "here I am observing" syndrome). He
can portray a bored housewife's point of view ("Gonna Cry," "Compared
to What?") just as easily as he can Everybloke's. A unique talent.
I could go on, and I probably will. If you've heard 'em, you KNOW. If you
haven't and you're still here, you should. (If you're in the States, most
of their albums are available from Steve Gardner at www.nkvdrecords.com.)
The Celibate Rifles are an Australian national treasure. Long may they run.
- Ken Shimamoto
