[kj] Early american KJ articles

[Rob]

THANKS NICK

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From: gathering-bounces at misera.net
[mailto:gathering-bounces at misera.net]On Behalf Of nicholas fitzpatrick
Sent: 19 August 2004 10:01
To: gathering at misera.net
Subject: [kj] Early american KJ articles


For anyone who's interested, here's three early American articles about KJ, 
running in reverse order from 1982 (review of Revelations), through 1981 
(gig review) to a short article moaning about the cost of going out on New 
Year's Eve in New York in 1980 (KJ's NY debut). None of it is exactly 
flattering...





1982 The Washington Post
Punk Pretenses
By Howard Wuelfing

It shouldn't come as a surprise that Killing Joke draws fans from the heavy 
metal coterie or that Duran Duran has made lots of friends in suburban 
discos. Both of these British bands are considered New Wave, but in England 
nowadays, all that label guarantees is a certain novelty value and a 
marketable image. Innumerable groups, including these two, have used punk's 
credos of innovation and individuality as a pretense for hopping bandwagons,

going from one trend or style to another in a quest for Old Wave-style 
success.

Killing Joke, which performs at the 9:30 club on Saturday, incorporates a 
great deal of the vision and sound of '70s hard rock into the "prog-punk" 
(progressive punk) format. The group's stance is violent, macho and 
anti-sentimental, the same sort of pose that the likes of Black Sabbath 
employ.

Almost every number on "Revelations" (Editions E.G./ Malicious Damage, EGMD 
3), Killing Joke's most recent LP, is an overwrought, near-impenetrable 
mess. The basic elements are definitely derived from punk, but something 
about the context, the delivery and the intent has gone horribly wrong.

Time after time the group goes after sensationalistic effects, readily 
achieved bits of cheap theater. "Chop Chop" is a rumbling menace, Geordie's 
bombastic guitars, a dully throbbing rhythm section and Jaz Coleman's 
bellowing vocalese all battering the ears. They saddled "Dregs," already a 
weak tune, with a ponderous, leaden tempo and sloppy disco mix -- more 
failed atmospherics. Killing Joke attempts repeatedly to imbue this material

with an aura of power and profundity. Instead it sounds overbearing and 
pretentious.

The results are overwhelmingly tedious and trite. It's about as politically 
enlightening, or even threatening, as watching Japanese sci-fi flicks on a 
Saturday afternoon. Never mind that the radiation-induced boogie monsters --

or worse -- are a real possibility. No sincere emotions are exposed, no 
substantial points made. Killing Joke nearly plays to its audience's morbid 
preconceptions. This probably explains the group's popularity among 
adolescent would-be psychopaths. It offers easy answers, a vulgar reduction 
of more complex realities.

Duran Duran, which opens for Blondie at Merriweather Post Pavilion Monday, 
performs a similar disservice for dance-floor dilettantes. The New Romantic 
movement the group emerged from was a wry, knowing adaptation of disco and 
glitter conventions in opposition to punk's elitism of ugliness.

>From the word go, Duran Duran was a packaging concept. The moment the group

was signed, its record company hired Roxy Music's haberdasher to dress them,

Magazine's graphic designer to do their record sleeve art work and the 
engineer from David Bowie's "Heroes" sessions to produce. In fact, 
everything except showing the band how to write, play or sing properly was 
done for them.

"Rio" (Harvest, ST-12211) is tepid, anonymous electro-pop slop. The tunes 
are flat and nondescript and, even worse, awkward. The title cut stumbles 
back and forth between ill-suited chorus and verse sections. "Hungry Like a 
Wolf" tries to propel a terribly plain melody with a thumping stodgy beat to

no avail. Throughout, the musicianship is pedestrian and the singing 
bland--and very wisely buried in the mix.

Any bright points on "Rio" should be credited to producer Colin Thurston. 
He's dressed up drab tracks like "Last Chance on the Stairway" with a legion

of tasteful flourishes, a tinkling splash of vibes in this case. Elsewhere 
there are sudden bursts of percussion, subtle tonal variations. "Hold Back 
the Rain," the most brazen Roxy pop here, benefits greatly from his sly 
manipulation of timbre and texture. Thurston almost renders this stuff 
listenable.


ENDS


1981 Washington Post
Killing ----Joke ------
by Harry Sumrall

What with the riots, the depressed economy and the shrinking empire, all is 
not right in Britain. The atmosphere seems to have affected the island's 
rock groups, many of whom have gone fairly potty from the despair of it all.

Last night at the 9:30 Club, Killing Joke erupted with its own version of 
English working-class angst rock. Menacing lyrics that dealt with madness, 
tension and food shortages were yelled above a screeching, crashing 
electronic wall of sound. No melodies. No harmonies. In fact, Killing Joke 
sounded rather like a synthesized equivalent of a chain saw.

The four musicians exuded a kind of manic charm, casting anguished glances 
and militant poses at the frenzied crowd. While these were no doubt intended

to heighten the effect of the music, the result was nonetheless hilarious. 
And the music -- well, it was in the finest rock-for-shock tradition, with 
blaring, amateurish riffing and screaming singers trying to purge some sort 
of demons from their souls. It was so bad that it was supposed to be good --

except it never got past being bad.

Killing Joke. The joke is on the group as well as its listeners. And it 
isn't very amusing.

ENDS




1980 The New York Times Company
December 27, 1980, Saturday
COST OF A NEW YEAR'S EVE SOARS UP AND AWAY
By ENID NEMY


Stand in line with money, because New Year's Eve may be fun, frolic and good

will, but it is also a bundle of cash - in most cases, anywhere from 10 to 
33 percent higher than last year
The Rock Lounge at West Broadway and Canal Street is charging $25 a person 
to dance and listen to the New York debut of Killing Joke, a New Wave group 
from England....

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