An irrepressible determine round Liverpool for many years, Geoff Davies’ demise in September 2023 left a major void. Within the early ’70s, Davies had co-founded Probe Data – catalyst for the town’s punk scene, the place the likes of Pete Burns, Julian Cope and Pete Wylie labored behind the counter – earlier than beginning up his personal Probe Plus label in 1981. He signed quite a few native bands, none extra impactful than Half Man Half Biscuit.
The shock indie success of 1985’s Again In The DHSS (price range £40; gross sales 50,000) opened the door to a profession HMHB by no means anticipated, largely on account of Davies’ tenacity in spreading the phrase. So it’s completely apposite, 30 years on and one other 15 albums later, that All Asimov And No Recent Air is devoted to his reminiscence.
It might probably make Davies chuckle, rammed as it’s with the sort of poetic ingenuity, absurd fiction and savage wit that makes chief Nigel Blackwell such a novel satirist. Blackwell’s MO has basically remained unchanged. Per being a gatekeeper of cultural sanity and style – calling out pomposity, pretension, lack of manners and rampant mediocrity wherever he sees match – there’s one thing warmly reassuring a couple of HMHB track. And whereas there’s heaps of humour, there’s additionally a profound love of language, syntax and metrical mischief.
After all, none of this could fly with out killer tunes. Singer-guitarist Blackwell and bassist Neil Crossley have been collectively from the off, offering HMHB with a lot of its melody and post-punk vigour, with drummer Carl Henry in situ for the reason that mid-’90s. These three make up the majority of All Asimov…, which readily switches gear between clamorous people, stroppy alt.pop anthems and, in additional measured moments, a sort of gleefully seditious balladry. Power ranges dip to swimsuit: the reflective “The Bliss Of The Hereafter” seems like a confession, with Blackwell singing of darkish days and a waning artistic urge for food, underpinned by the notion (as a eager bicycle owner) of surreptitiously pedalling out of sight. However then the entire temper is out of the blue lifted by the strains: “Making an attempt to get a trestle desk/Again off Beth Tweddle/Such a ache within the arse.”
British gymnasts however, different references embrace Edgar Allan Poe, George Mallory and a sure ITV’s This Morning presenter, who’s unceremoniously allotted with within the opening bars of “Potential Facet Results”: “Every time I hear a information report of an avalanche involving British skiers/I pay attention in with curiosity within the hope that I’d catch the identify Ben Shephard.”
“Potential Facet Results” would possibly seem like all jocular bile and surreal digression – involving an acid-imbibed go to to Legoland and a proposal to exchange a lacking tile on Alan Sugar’s roof – but it surely’s a spidery break-up ballad with desperation at its root. It finds a companion (in track, that’s) in “Don’t Get Me Incorrect Yvonne”, whose upbeat manner masks an unsettling story of stalker-ish obsession. “Goodbye Sam, Good day Samaritans” is equally subversive, managing to offset Blackwell’s knack for frolicsome rhyme – “I noticed Badly Drawn Boy in a badly parked automotive/With a badly grazed elbow” – with creeping despair. As with a lot of his songwriting, there’s depth, nuance and a sheltered humanity at work right here.
Additional proof that All Asimov… isn’t simply enjoying for laughs arrives with “Birmos In The Cowshed”. Set to a intentionally nostalgic Pistols groove, it’s narrated by a pensioner with a tenuous grasp of the current who takes solace from vivid recollections of his youthful days, hanging out with mates on the soccer, silk scarves on the wrist. ‘Birmos’, by the way, refers to Birmingham baggage, the high-waisted trouser popularised within the ’70s.
Elsewhere although, there’s untrammelled mirth. “Report Retailer Day” takes a swipe on the business’s flag day: “Extortion on a levеl you’ll be able to hardly conceive/Tarted up in a fibreglass sleeve”. “No-One Likes A Polymath” finds Isaac Asimov nurturing a prize allotment someplace within the North Downs, his unbearable smugness (“Heated gilet and the assertion scarf”) necessitating a go to from a vengeful mob. And precisely what sparked “McCalliog And His Hens” – a couple of poultryman and his telepathic leghorns who crack instances for the Devon CID – is anyone’s guess.
However nothing fairly prepares you for doom-folk saga “Falmouth Electrics”. Its newly redundant chronicler buys a ventriloquist dummy, provides ear-piercings and eyeliner, then notices its resemblance to Pete Murphy. Parading down Falmouth excessive road in the direction of HMV, and unable to pronounce the letter ‘B’, the doll invents its catchphrase: “Have you ever acquired any Gauhaus?” For sure, issues don’t end up effectively. It’s sensible. If this report doesn’t transfer you on any degree, you actually do have a wood coronary heart.
