September 23, 2002 by A.S. Van Dorston

The Flaming Stars, Ginmill Perfume: The Story So Far 1995-2000 (Alternative Tentacles)

The Flaming Stars has been one of the best kept musical secrets of the past seven years. Until now, their four albums, singles compilation and Peel Sessions have been unavailable in the U.S. Thanks to Alternative Tentacles, Ginmill Perfume collects highlights from throughout their career in a fifteen song compilation. Early singles “Like Trash” and “Ten Feet Tall” put imaginative spins on trash garage rock, with stomping saloon pianos in the former, and whizzing organs and Lou Reed-ish vocals in the latter. “Who’s Out There?” takes surf rock and boils it down to it’s thick, black, creepy essence. Many of the songs employ sixties melodies to an echoey, Spectorish production that recalls The Jesus & Mary Chain. No matter how chaotic a noise the band blasts out, former Gallon Drunkard Max Décharné is the ultra-cool, deadpan eye of the storm, crooning like a mix of Elvis, Lou Reed and Lawrence of Felt.

The Flaming Stars, A Walk On The Wired Side (Vinyl Japan, 2001)

Ironically their most recent work has progressed in a parallel path to Decharne’s former band. While The flaming Stars have retained some of the rough, garagey quality on many songs (like the Man Or Astroman meets the Munsters surf-basher “Grabber George”), others are more impressionist, cinematic efforts, with Decharne, like Gallon Drunk’s Johnston, cooling down his vocals to a rough whisper on songs like the delicately Latin-flavored “Absent Without Leave” and the Velvety “She Says She Says.” “Over & Gone” is a slow-builder that climaxes in a fantastic din of drums and guitars, ending far too soon. The droney, noisy tunes that don’t delve as deeply into the usual menacing minor chords often recall Yo La Tengo, such as “Sleepless Nights” and “More Than Enough.” Yet instead of pacing the rockers with ballads, The Flaming Stars offers funereal dirges like “The Dead Don’t Care.” With eighteen songs, A Walk On The Wired Side is an embarrassment of riches. The closest thing to filler are a handful of instrumentals which are short and add to the overall feel. Two of the strongest cuts, “You Don’t Always Want What You Get” and “Some Things You Don’t Forget” are included on the domestic compilation. But once you hear some, you’ll be so hooked, and finding yourself hunting down all the imports on the Internet. This kind of attitude can’t be manufactured. The Flaming Stars are the real deal.

The Flaming Stars – Sunset & Void (Alternative Tentacles, 2002)

The Flaming Stars are a real garage band. Not in the sense of that generic, vaguely post-mod, Nuggets style that is so popular right now. We’re talking garage steeped in the Americana of 50s Elvis, western soundtracks, surf rock, The Velvet Underground and The Cramps. On their fifth album, former Gallon Drunk Max Décharné charn has taken tighter reigns on the songwriting after the somewhat slicker experiments on Walk on the Wired Side (2001). There’s still plenty of noirish gloom and romantic tragedy, but the overall sound is more stripped down. Sunset & Void features two particularly delicate ballads in “Mansion House Blues” and “Five For The Road.” But even the rockers are fairly low key. “Midnight Train” and “Killer In The Rain” simmer like Elvis with a dose of gothic dread. The maracas, marimba and harpsichord on “Mexican Roulette” recall the desert-baked mariachis of Calexico. The band takes the opportunity to rave on their surfabilly chops on “Baby Steps,” which favors a shreddingly distorted guitar amidst tinkling ivories and acoustic accompaniment, and “Killjoy.” “The Long Walk Home” is particularly impressive mood piece, with pounding bass and drums, menacing piano and handclaps. More mannered than their Songs from the Bar Room Floor (1996) and two singles collections, Sunset & Void is an enjoyably dark, gritty mood piece. Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds fans who are impatient waiting for the band to get back to rocking are well advised to check out The Flaming Stars.

Gallon Drunk, Fire Music (Sweet Nothing, 2002)

Fire Music marks the welcome return of Gallon Drunk’s first proper studio album in six years. In the early 90s, in a scene that was dominated by flowery “Madchester” post-rave pop and gauzy shoegazers, Gallon Drunk was one of the few remaining garage noir British bands that still walked the walk with the swagger of gunfighters — slinging a dangerous-sounding blend of The Cramps, Gun Club and The Birthday Party. In the meantime, the band dropped its Birthday Party-isms, lost Max Décharné to The Flaming Stars, and recorded a soundtrack for Black Milk (1999), a Greek black comedy. In doing their homework for the film, they absorbed plenty of soundtrack music, including the classic 70s Blaxploitation work of Curtis Mayfield, James Brown and Willie Hutch. Fire Music introduces additional elements, from gospel (“Things Will Change”) to a slower, more studied Euro-blues of Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds (“Outside Love”). Gallon Drunk has never been known for quick tempos, but now the songs unfold like silk sheets and flow like fine cognac. The 7:16 long “In This Moment” is a good example of their new sound — low-range, nearly whispered vocals, pianos and horns not unlike Tindersticks, but with the funk-soul edge of later Afghan Whigs. “Everything’s Alright” brings together the best of Big Chief’s Funkadelic/Blaxploitation-inspired Mack Avenue Skullgame with the psychedelic guitars of The Screaming Trees. “Forget All That You Know” is the album’s centerpiece. The instrumental intro swings with jazzy drums, bass and Ellingtonian piano. Gradually a guitar enters the picture, along with the most eerie, atmospheric use of a harmonica since The Dirty Three. Four minutes into the song, James Johnston sings the first verses, the best evocation of the grey area between dreamstate and nightmare since Steve Wynn and The Dream Syndicate in “When You Smile.” “And as you fall into a dream,” he sings, “Your pulse it races in it’s stream/And in your wild imagining/Your heart and mind are both swept clean.” “Fire Music (Part One)” is a melancholic, noirish downbeat instrumental, while “Part Two” is another soul-funk workout with waka-waka guitars and a heavy horn section. Last but not least is the stunning cover of Bob Dylan’s “Series Of Dreams.” Possibly their best album, Fire Music is perfect for those who think the new balladeering Nick Cave is under-using The Bad Seeds. And for those who miss the early garage noir sound, there’s still The Flaming Stars.