THE POP GROUP? (Melody Maker, page 30, October 21, 1978) Disorder by juxtaposition. Subversion by paradox. Nothing is as simple as we're told. New feelings. "Truth is a feeling not a sound / We don't need words / Throw them away" ("Words Disobey Me") Wishful thinking, of course. The Pop Group are more concerned than most to ensure that their words are heard. But wouldn't it be nice if...? Their bright, clean, hard, brilliant sound is arresting. So were the visuals (theatrics, momentarily overplayed, underlined by thoughtfully cued lights: a strobe flickers, underplayed; backlighting creates ambiguous shadows) at their Amnesty International benefit in London's Electric Ballroom last Thursday. A lot of cerebral activity is evident, in the counterplay of borrowed styles and in the cut-up literacy of the words. They are, though, immediately exciting, too; you'll want to hear the chopping triplet twin-guitar figure which punctuates the chorus of "She's Beyond Good and Evil" again and again; so they play it twice. It's also their first single. Bright. The way they play together is rare. They don't often lock into a groove and work it hard, but when they do there's a sense of striving in unison which lifts the music very high indeed. Most of the grooves struck me as coming from James Brown, from the period which produced "Cold Sweat" and "Money Won't Change You (But Time Can Take You Out...)". Two trebly guitarists, Jon Waddinton and Gareth Sager, sharing snickering rhythm figures with plenty of space; a warm bass, Simon Underwood; and harshly chattering drums, Bruce Smith. "Can I take it to the bridge? Can I take it to the bridge?" That kind of tension, way up, dramatised in the gestures of Mark Stewart (singer). Sometimes, indeed, over-dramatised: they may discover that the fabric of, say, "Please Don't Sell Your Dreams" is too flimsy to hold against such a frenetic delivery. But that doesn't happen often: "Words Disobey Me" (also played twice), "Trap" and "Kiss The Book" are resilient structures. Of course, the structures are often subverted, usually by the guitarists -- and by the extraordinarily imaginative Sager in particular. Like the singer, he has a well-developed combative stage presence; what he does is more important, by slicing across the prevalent mood or direction. He also played interesting clarinet noises (shades of Beefheart, which often occurred without overpowering). The evening started with Maelstrom (Male Strom?) and the Beargarden (Bare Garden?): invisible keyboard, guitar, tenor saxophone, and clarinet -- again. The clarinettist played only in socks and plimsolls; once this had attracted a crowd to the stage, they stopped their parody of free improvisation and disappeared. Cabaret Voltaire were second, an "electronic garage band" from Sheffield: guitar, bass, keyboards. Treated vocals hissing and distorting. I'm glad there are bands interesting in starting from this position, but they'll be better when they come to terms with the fact that they don't come from Dusseldorf. Briefly, someone played a clarinet (the same one?) Linton Kwesi Johnson's poems were delivered, some unaccompanied and some against reggae rhythm tracks, with a dark power and a swaying rhythmic undertow which really seemed to move the largely white audience. He was joined for one piece by Vivian Weathers, a singer with a gorgeous Curtis Mayfield-like falsetto. In this context, Nico seemed like a prophet returned. She sang some of her new songs, from a sequence dedicated to "heroes": I heard "Genghis Khan" and a song about Andreas Baader ("Must the Killer Die?"). She is, surely, the world's most consistent performer. There is no such thing as a poor Nico performance; only the audience can effect modifications. She seemed to be singing with more ardour, and this sometimes affected her pitching, but her playing of the harmonium grows more adept and she was well received. An EXCELLENT concert. -- Richard Williams

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Thanks, Tom Smith, for the scan.