First Person
Laughing Stock (Polydor)
I remember joking once that Talk Talk was “the poor man’s Simple Minds.” 1991’s Laughing Stock, however, blew away my prejudices about the band and became a resident of my list of favorite albums. Mark Hollis (vocals, guitar, keyboards), Tim Friese-Greene (keyboards, production) and Lee Harris (drums) labored on Laughing Stock for seven months with a cast of violinists, cellists, horn players and one harmonica player. Their work produced a masterful album of improvisation, spontaneity and subtle artistry. Its spacious sound and rich feel doesn’t come from digital or studio effects, but from natural echo and reverb nurtured by judicious mic placement in London’s mammoth Wessex Studios. The jazz-influenced drumming of Harris (who later formed O’rang with ex-Talk Talk bassist Paul Webb) provides ample freedom for the fluttering keyboard, guitar and strings to wander and create atmosphere. The drumming also wanders to make its own magic, as on the opener “Myrrhman” where the sounds of sticks and skins scatter about. Hollis said he wanted it to feel like Coltrane’s “In A Sentimental Mood” in which he thought it sounded like ‘Trane drummer Elvin Jones was setting up his kit. The ambling, open-ended feel of “Myrrhman” prepares you for “Ascension Day” in which Hollis spills out elegant, phonetic phrasings (“Double deal a season wrapt too lax to laps so soon”), his voice barely rising above the instruments. The lyrics may make little sense, but the words are paramount, as Hollis shapes consonants and vowels into art. The album bubbles to a peak on “After The Flood” where Hollis and Friese-Greene bleat for a minute on saxes a half note apart. That brash, unnerving solo reveals the free-jazz aesthetic that Talk Talk must’ve had in mind for those seven months. I’d be surprised if the spontaneous aesthetic of Laughing Stock wasn’t behind some work by Portishead, Spacemen 3, Laika and others in this decade. I’d be even more surprised if the album didn’t continue to inspire innovators in the next 10 years. — Steve Ciabattoni
**********************************
First Person is a weekly column in which individual CMJ editors sound off about music and artists, both new and old, that are near and dear to their hearts.