In The Hall Of The Meltdown King
by Wrongtom
Sometime in the early 00s, at the behest of absolutely no one, I decided it was time to name what I saw as an overlooked and misjudged genre. It might sound callous to spotlight the likes of Lighthouse Family, China Black and mid 90s Roachford, and dub their chart-friendly take on modern RnB as “90s Mum Soul” but, as snarky as it might sound to the artists involved (and any mums of the 1990s), I assure you I genuinely liked these records.
There was no reason for my revision of history. At the time I’m sure no one cared whether I saw merit in tracks like ‘Ocean Drive’ or ‘Searching’, and some of you probably think nothing has changed in this regard. The difference now is I’m here crafting an exhaustive piece about it with accompanying Spotify playlist, while back in the day it would’ve been a casual conversation down the pub, or maybe in the small hours with a drunk flatmate living a similarly trite and fruitless life. The important thing was, dismissive genre name aside, I understood the significance of these records, and I would happily die on this hill while searching for the hero inside myself.
This week I spotted an article by Andrew Male about the return of Eddie Chacon years after the death of his writing/recording partner Charles Pettigrew, and the dissolution of their act Charles & Eddie. The journey to his debut solo LP Pleasure, Joy & Happiness has been arduous, having been dropped by Capitol when they couldn’t replicate the success of their breakout single ‘Would I Lie To You’, and then the shock of Charles’ death from cancer in 2001 — “he never told me he was sick” a sombre Chacon admits to Male — he turned his back on music in the 00s to take up photography, and I now feel awful for perhaps making light of Chacon’s hit, despite my unabashed fandom for both C&E albums.
I really didn’t know what to expect from Chacon’s new record, but in a heartbeat I was settling into the rhythm box led ballad ‘Trouble’ and I haven’t looked back. Chacon’s falsetto sounds better than ever, and the album teems with invention, thanks in part to producer John Carrol Kirby who’s own album My Garden dropped a few months back on Stones Throw, fresh off the back of collaborations with the likes of Bat For Lashes and Solange. Together Chacon and Kirby have delivered an LP which somehow conjures Songs To Remember era Scritti Politti while keeping a foot in the modern soul movement. It’s self-referential and existential, but by no means a throwback to his earlier work, or as the ever astute Andrew Male puts it “Krapp’s Last Tape via Channel Orange”.
My love of Chacon’s work dates back before Charles & Eddie topped the charts, though it was only a few years ago that I realised the man with the flowing raven locks who sang “you can read my diary, you’re in every line” was the same guy who once recorded a Prince-esque electro-funk cover of The Beatles’ ‘All You Need Is Love’. Who’d have imagined it’d take over 30 years for a full Chacon LP?
With ‘Would I Lie To You?’ Chacon crafted a soul belter which transcended RnB radio, finding its way onto daytime playlists. It may have owed a debt to the hip hop and street soul of the age, but it’s opening drum roll — a carbon copy of Benny Benjamin’s classic fill, as heard on ‘My Girl’ — reminded us that they all owed so much to Motown and all the great soul hits of the 60s. Marvin & Tammi singing ‘You’re All I Need To Get By’ might have as much in common with easy listening hits by the likes of The Carpenters as it does Method Man & Mary J Blige. ‘Would I Lie To You?’ straddles the fence between the two, creating a blueprint, and identifying a wider audience for a new style of high-sheen soul, un-fussed about it’s street credentials, or, as I callously once put it, mums. I’m not proud of this.
But far from a slur, not only did I go about listing key tracks from the 90s Mum Soul genre, I also spun yarns about hosting a day dedicated to them in the unlikely event that I’d be invited to curate one of Southbank Centre’s hallowed Meltdowns.
The Southbank is something of a spiritual home for me. Though I grew up in the suburbs, I spent much of my formative years on that stretch of river. My mum took us there a lot, perhaps because she was born across the road at St Thomas’ lying in hospital (now a Premier Inn) and felt an affinity herself. She still reminisces about visiting the Festival Of Britain in ’51. My dad was there too, though they wouldn’t meet til the end of the decade. She was present at a Trad Jazz and Modern Jazz festival, held in the Royal Festival Hall in ’55 and described the fights in the foyer between posing modernists and aggy trad boys. Such was their dedication to their chosen sub-genres, the lines were drawn in blood across the venue’s infamous Net & Ball carpets.
I had my free-jazz awakening at the Queen Elizabeth Hall in the late 80s, I’ve witnessed my friend get married on the Festival Hall stage with 19 other couples, and once successfully bullshitted my way into watch the Yeah Yeah Yeahs debut UK show when, as a last minute edition to his Meltdown lineup, Bowie booked them to play under the merciless lights of the Clore Ballroom. I’ve sat writing there alone, and spent a few birthdays with family and friends at the South Asian Alchemy festival. The one thing I’ve never done is perform there (discounting the private party I played for a law firm who’d hired out Spiritland beneath the Festival Hall. It didn’t go well).
I’m far from the first underperforming artist to dream up their ultimate Meltdown lineup, but seeing as that kind of notoriety still eludes me, and it’ll almost definitely never happen, here’s my current revised version.
Wrongtom’s Meltdown
As this is an unmitigated pipedream, I’m not constrained by anything as crass as having to sell tickets, which means I don’t have to worry about big headliners, yet don’t expect this to be an exercise in the needlessly obscure. For starters Roberta Flack will be performing her debut album First Take in full, with as many of the original lineup as can be gathered. Ron Carter will be there of course, and aside performing with Flack, he’ll be teaming up with Herbie Hancock for a set of classics they’ve both played on, and rumour has it Q-Tip will be dropping in for a rendition of ‘Verses From The Abstract’.
Tip’s joining Busta Rhymes on the Friday for a one off dub-influenced set, while Busta will be holding court earlier in the day in the level 5 function room where you can catch him reminiscing about his teens spent with his aunt in Morecambe, Lancashire. He’ll also be reading passages from John Osborne’s play ‘Look Back In Anger’ which the original angry young man wrote on Morecambe pier (though it’s inspired by his upbringing in Stoneleigh where I grew up, fact fans).
Speaking of dub collaborations, for one night only on the Saturday, you can catch me at the Queen Elizabeth Hall with a bank of tape echo and spring reverb, where I’ll be joined by Django Django for a psychedelic-dub workout, springboarding from our Marble Dubs EP which you probably had no idea I produced a couple of years back.
In the Poetry Library you can catch a spoken word session from the cream of 00s UK dancehall, with the likes of Tippa Irie, Macka B and Asher Senator. Macka B will be running an ital food stall in the market too.
The big draw on Saturday night will no doubt be Haim who I’ve somehow convinced to delve deeper into the jazzier moments from their latest LP Women In Music Part III. Aside their own sax collaborator Henry Solomon, Shabaka Hutchings and Theon Cross said they were up for joining the Haim sisters, but only if Ron Carter agrees to perform too, which of course he will because who better to play double bass on the extended 40 minute space-jazz version of ‘Summer Girl’ we have planned? Also, he hasn’t confirmed yet but I’m hoping Paul Thomas Anderson will be supplying visuals for the show.
While we’re talking films, over at the BFI I’ll be screening Leslie Harris’ unsung 1992 masterpiece Just Another Girl On The IRT, with the director in conversation with Ariyan A. Johnson. Following the film, feel free to join us in the bar where I’m going back to back with KC Flight for a dedicated set of Hip-House. If we’re lucky, maybe Ariyan will do her dance from the party scene.
As far as current artists go, I couldn’t not invite Angelica Garcia who’s album Cha Cha Palace soundtracked my recent and hellish house move in the thick of Covid. Note to self, I really need to finish my remix of her track ‘Jicama’ which I started back in March before getting distracted by the apocalypse.
Of course there will be a night of Spiky Dread, with some of my favourite punky-reggae artists meeting Dennis Bovell on the boards, dubbing the likes of Ruts DC, Family Fodder and Glaxo Babies. I don’t wanna get your hopes up but there’s a chance Lee Perry will team up with the godfathers of post-rock, Dif Juz, to recreate their never heard mini album which they made with Scratch in the early 80s, and has since remained under lock and key at 4AD, apparently.
Wrapping up the event on Sunday night, I give you the gathering of the century. Lighthouse Family, Lisa Stansfield and China Black will be delving deep into their joyfully mellow pop-soul of the 1990s, with Heather Small performing strictly down beat numbers from her M People catalogue. Don’t tell anyone but Lenny Kravitz will be donning his best leather trousers for the big finale when they all team up for a rousing version of ‘It Aint Over Til It’s Over’ before Eddie Chacon shows up to tear the house down with a full live rendition of Pleasure, Joy & Happiness, assuming he’s not offended by all this. Honestly, I love the new album, go and have a listen, and when you’re done, give my latest playlist a blast…
