| Product: |
Back In The D.H.S.S. - Half Man Half Biscuit |
| Date: |
08/03/06 (1074 review reads) |
| Rating: |
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Advantages: Energetic, catchy tunes, funny lyrics,
Disadvantages: Some tracks don't have great sound quality
It's twenty one years since the quaintly whimsical Merseyside band Half Man Half Biscuit, whom I shall from now on refer to as HMHB, released their debut album - Back in the DHSS. The title refers to a ditty by that slightly more well known Liverpool band The Beatles. For the information of readers under the age of thirty and those who have never hit hard times, the DHSS used to be the place to go and sign on the dole, (now known as jobseekers allowance), which has gone through a few attempted image revamps and name changes since then. Unlike the first release which was on vinyl and cassette, the CD contains tracks from the Trumpton Riots 7" and E.P. and the Dickie Davies Eyes 12". It originally cost around thirty pounds to record and went to the top of the independent charts.
Attempting to describe the HMHB sound puts me in a state of mild quandary. It would seem to have it's roots in punk but is also decribed as indie/rock and as their output has proliferated, elements of folk, blues and even country could be said to have entered the HMHB musical canon. However this, their first release has the most raw sound and could probably best be described as indie punk. It doesn't really matter how the sound is defined anyway, what's more important is the energy and enthusiasm of the whole shebang and the wit of lyricist and vocalist Nigel Blackwell. Blackwell has a unique vocal style which is often described as deadpan, but in fact he often seems full of sincere emotion particularly when venting spleen against minor celebrities in songs such as I Hate Nerys Hughes (from the heart).
The album begins in a typically unexpected manner with a jolly little instrumental based on the tv series Trumpton, remember this was back in 1985 when references to Trumpton were not fashionable. There are a couple more Trumpton inspired tracks; Time Flies By (When You're the Driver of a Train) and The Trumpton Riots; which tend to concentrate on the seedier districts of the busy little market town. Unfortunately the sound quality isn't great on The Trumpton Riots but at least you can still feel the exuberance and hear the lyrics such as, "Tell PC McGarry to get himself a mate and arm themselves with C.S gas - they're going to be out late".
The second track, God Gave Us Life, is another that begins in a catchy happy manner but descends into gentle despair as Nigel wonders why God also gave us Little and Large, Keith Harris and Thora Hird. HMHB delight in mocking the mediocre, the talentless and the pointless, correspondingly their songs are awash with obscure references many of which on this album you will need to be over thirty to understand. A skidoo and Ali Bongo are just two. But you don't necessarily need to understand the references in order to get the humour and it's amusing when you're familiar with a track and you read or hear something that throws light on a reference made. One of their most celebrated songs is 'Fuckin' 'Ell It's Fred Titmus', apparently inspired by Nigel's desire to hear people shouting ridiculous requests at him on stage; anyone who's ever been to a HMHB gig will be able to confirm that his wish has been more than granted.
Blackwell's lyrics are full of sharp observations which chronicle the sheer pettiness of much of everyday life. If you can imagine Alan Bennett on amphetamines you might begin to get the picture. He writes from a seemingly bleak outlook that is strongly imbued with a sense of the absurd. A few examples from this album; 'A million housewives every day pick up a tin of beans and say: "What an amazing example of synchronisation", (Venus in Flares); 'the nauseating bashfulness of early Diana, makes me want to set fire to commemorative tea towels', ( Architecture and Morality, Ted and Alice); 'I was walking around my local store, searching for the ten pence off Lenor, suddenly I bumped into this guy, On seeing who it was I gave a cry - Fuckin' ell it's Fred Titmuss, (Fuckin' ell it's Fred Titmuss).
One of my favourites has to be the final track; 'All I want for Christmas is a Dukla Prague Away Kit' - a poignant tale of adolescent rivalry concerning Scalextric and Subbuteo in which floodlights get smashed and a travelling army of synthetic supporters are thrown in the bin. Childhood hurts and injustices are replayed against a background of jaunty 'I don't Care' jangly guitars, but we can hear the frustration in Nigels voice and we know deep down that he still cares, he still hates the kid who beat him and we can surmise that he never really had the balls to smash up those floodlights - he just wishes he had. Perhaps. Football is a theme that recurs often in HMHB songs and when you hear that the band have turned down TV appearances in order to watch Tranmere Rovers play, their negative outlook and warped attitudes become more understandable.
HMHB have released ten albums and I find they can be a bit hit and miss, but when they do hit the spot it's with a bloody big hammer and some lyrics make me grin no matter how many times I hear them. This is one of their more consistent albums although it's a shame about the recording quality on some of the tracks, particularly towards the end of the CD - I left my heart in Papworth General; Architecture and Morality, Ted and Alice; and The Trumpton Riots.
All in all Back in the DHSS is a joyous romp through British culture, pointing out much that is crap along the way. I've listened to it many many times and it still makes me laugh. There's a really good website on which you can look up all lyrics and many of the references in the songs. It's at www.hmhb.co.uk. You can buy the CD here through the label Probe Plus, (HMHB have stayed with their first label despite being offered more lucrative deals), for £10.00 plus 0.75p postage, which is cheaper than any online stores I've found. Amazon sell it for £10.99/used from £8.20.
Summary: Energetic, enjoyable and deeply, deeply cynical.
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