1990 (1990):
It’s Immaterial – Song
The first It’s Immaterial album came out whilst I was in the lower sixth. It was one of those albums that helped me make the jump towards indie music. They were on Top of the Pops and in the Top 20, but they were much more difficult than a pop band. I devoured that album and its associated singles. And then they went quiet.
Four years later, their second album was released with little fanfare. I remember coming across it in Spinadisc and buying the tape. As I walked home from town I eagerly scanned the sleevenotes, wondering why they’d filled the inlay with loads of little stories. At least, that’s what I thought they were because they certainly didn’t read like lyrics.
News in the paper, well it must have the names wrong. The car in the picture has the right registration. Fished out of Pickmere, cold and abandoned. ‘Youthful disillusion’ – the Inspector’s opinion. – Missing
These were little vignettes of suburban minutiae. Its a claustrophobic album, John Campbell’s part spoken, part sung lyrics accompanied mainly by Jarvis Whitehead on keyboards. The songs sound so close and personal that even listening to it can seem like an intrusion.
It had a couple of singles. ‘New Brighton’ and ‘Heaven Knows’, but the record company backing was anything but fulsome, the record and the band drifting into obscurity.
I know what its like when you come round to thinking on how you missed the gravy train, on which your family’s depending. – Heaven Knows.
Naturally, it was an album I fell in love with, although unlike much of the music I listened to at the time, this wasn’t an album that I’d play on the nightshift stereo. This was a personal delight, an album to listen to on headphones. Maybe that was part of its problem.
None of this is to say that it’s dour. It’s a beautiful album. The instrumentation may be simple but the arrangements are lush and Campbell’s voice has a maturity that wasn’t evident on the earlier album. And whilst the subject matter – urban decay, marital breakdowns, missing persons, may not sound cheery, there’s a humour that lifts the songs above the mundane.
He brought out a photograph that he believed was evidence of us both having the same mother. I kind of gulped at first and then had a second look. Well, I said ‘Yes it definitely looks like her. She was pretty in her younger days. How is she now? I remember her leaving.’” – Life On The Hill
One of my occasional dreams is to start up a record label, re-releasing the odd unavailable gem that I have in my collection. I imagined that I was the only person who loved this album and so this would have been the centrepiece of such an endeavour. As it turns out, I’m not the only person. It was re-released last year on Cherry Red Records and I encourage everybody reading this to treat themselves.
Posted: June 29th, 2010 by Steve under Annual, Music.
Comments: 1

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