****** - Verified Buyer
4.5
Moments before everyone thought the world would end, circa 1999, the now almost vanished UK band XTC seemed on the brink of an explosive Renaissance. Having wriggled free from a stranglehold recording contract, "Apple Venus, Vol.1" burst forth and coated the brains of happy fans pent up from years of forced abstinence. The band had a new liberating record label, gave numerous interviews suggesting that they now felt unchained from the musical equivalent of Hades and optimism and a new millennium awaited. Onward musical soldiers!But wait. Long time member Dave Gregory then ejected. Apparently it was personal. The new CD only pictured two members and demoted Gregory to the "additional musicians" list. The bane of all optimism is reality. Things suddenly seemed to wobble and crack. And, of course, the world was obviously ending since a year terminating in three noughts approached ominously. It was written. Well, it was written in the collective human psyche fascinated and somewhat deluded by the certainty sometimes promised by numbers.Right around this very moment a curious relic appeared called "A School Guide To XTC." What? School? Wasn't lead singer and songwriter Andy Partridge the self-proclaimed "Mayor of Simpleton" possessing no academic credentials of any kind? It turns out that the school theme did not denote any deconstructionist, phenomenologist, structuralist, existentialist or platypusologistic agenda. No degrees required here. All are welcome. School merely provided an outline for an extended essay on XTC written by Italian critic Massimiano Bucchi for the 21st installment of an Italian series known as "Sonic Books." This series had previously featured Don Van Vliet ("Captain Beefheart") reading poetry, pre-Pink Floyd Syd Barret, Sex Pistols demos and other interesting miscellany untouched by vast distribution. XTC had joined the ranks, complete with a CD containing six tracks recorded by a somewhat primordial XTC under the name "Star Park" dating from 1972. Six years would pass before "White Music" introduced XTC to the world's aural canals. This CD represents some very deep archeology. Think pre-Neolithic.Star Park, as a listen to the CD reveals, had a ways to go. Perhaps that six year gap makes sense. Though by no means wretched, these recordings don't really represent a soon to emerge XTC on the brink of "Making Plans For Nigel" or "Senses Working Overtime." Many more adjustments, tweaks and tightenings would happen before fans and record labels took notice. Though many fans will doubtlessly see some glimmerings of the future in these obscure English basement tapes. Not to mention that such historical dives reveal that brilliance usually doesn't appear instantaneously. Though luck definitely plays a part, knowing that the members of XTC had jammed and fiddled for almost a decade prior to their initial public offering should serve as a dose of reality to those seeking quick success schemes. Still, the performances actually contain enough energy and playfulness to make them worthwhile for XTC fanatics and completists. Most noteworthy, an early rough "Neon Shuffle" appears, showing just how long some of the "White Music" material had incubated in the troposphere. The final song, "Do You Really," with its Who-like power chord intro, includes a hilariously repetitive and desperate plea to a loved one: "Do you really really really really really really love me?" Flawed and slightly awkward, but nonetheless enjoyable.Though the CD may only serve as an enjoyable curiosity, the parallel English-Italian booklet contains the real treasures. Apart from a compact and interesting XTC biography (with some typos), it includes a fascinating 1999 interview with Andy Partridge that ends with his personal album-by-album reflections. Looking back on "White Music," Partridge says, "I now see it as naked baby photographs." He also muses at length on his breakdown that ended XTC's frenetic touring schedule, to the eternal dismay of fans, managers and other band members. "Mummer" was written in the aftermath, with Partridge strumming his guitar in his garden accompanied by sips of beer. The outside world apparently terrified him for some time after. At the nanosecond of the pre-millennial interview, Gregory had left but things still remained chummy with Colin Moulding. "Apple Venus, Vol. 2" was in the works and XTC seemed solid as steel reinforced with reinforced steel, assuming the world survived the coming numeral flop-over apocalypse, of course.This little book and CD set captures a moment of brief optimism in XTC's late period as well as revealing some of the band's deep roots. Soon after, "Wasp Star" appeared in 2000 and things fell apart quickly. Partridge and Moulding experienced a "friendship divorce" and any hopes of an XTC reunion were dashed like baubles on concrete. Some fifteen years later, things haven't changed, though the intervening years have seen Partidge's extensive "Fuzzy Warbles" series and APE records (which occupies itself with XTC reissues on CD and vinyl) and a few extended interviews that bobble with tiny potential of new XTC projects. But sadly all evidence points to nil. As John Lennon said on his first solo album, "the dream is over." The XTC dream seems in a similar state. But perhaps they quit at the right time? Pushing on for the sake of pushing on rarely results in creative, innovative music. So though aging fans may bemoan the dearth of new material, perhaps XTC called it quits before any signs of real decline. Or, as a drop of deluded optimism shimmers, perhaps they just needed a long break? If we knew the future, we'd be bored stiff. In the case of XTC, we can at least enjoy the past.
