Despite a lengthy purple patch as critical darlings (including a coveted “SOUNDS” front spread) during their original Cherry Red spell 1981-83, Birmingham’s THE NIGHTINGALES are still far too often derided as tuneless second-rate indie chancers or – worse – some kind of Brummie FALL imitators.
Well, one spin of Cherry Red’s “Pissed And Potless” best of compilation quickly puts such imbecile notions to rest and highlights the fact that Robert Lloyd’s troupe were actually one of the top drawer outfits to stumble groggily from the UK independent bunker during the 1980s.
Admittedly there is something a tad shambolic about their first steps. Debut single “Idiot Strength” (1981) finds them struggling to attain the sound they would excel with (though there is a primitive tension there) and, okay, tinges of THE FALL’s patented “Container Drivers” Northern Rockabilly do permeate “Paraffin Brain”, their first great single from 1982. Having said that, its’ flip, the slippery discipline of “Elvis, The Last Ten Days” sees ‘em really finding their feet with a fluid, rhythmic sound we’d soon here refined versions of.
As someone more familiar with the ‘GALES earlier period, it’s a positive boon to discover the magic only intensified as the band’s career lurched on. The final Cherry Red single, “Urban Ospreys” is a corker, searing away with more than a hint of Zoot Horn Rollo in the string-bending. Always spilling over with lyrical insight from some distant planet, it’s cool the way Robert Lloyd splutters: “I’m worried stupid about the eggs!” Great, just great. By the time we’ve got to the first Ink Records single, 1983’s “Crafty Fag”, they’re a powerhouse, drummer Paul Apperley really coming into his own with a performance of seriously controlled power.
?Remarkably, the frequently changing personnel – usually augmenting the nucleus of Lloyd, Apperley and Andy “The Lid” Lloyd (lead guitar) until 1985 – didn’t diminish the quality control. Indeed, departing bassist John Nestor signs off in fine style with incredible rhythmic motifs on the funky “Insurance” and his replacement Howard Jenner injects fresh life immediately, forcing Apperley to again raise his game on “The Crunch.”
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Happily, even post-Apperley and Lloyd (A), THE NIGHTINGALES continued to impress right up to the finishing line; songs like “Down In The Dumps” revisiting their rockabilly inclinations with power to spare (and now added violin from Maria Smith) and signing off like true champions should with “Coincidence”: hacked from the sort of offbeat pop seam that Rob would continue to mine in his all-too brief spell with his post-‘GALES combo, THE NEW FOUR SEASONS.
Because, despite his cohorts’ (often immense) contributions, THE NIGHTINGALES would never have been quite so special without Robert Lloyd’s scintillating, skewiff lyrical input and that voice that somehow juxtaposed the deadpan with the enthusiastic and came up smiling and ready to demolish the next bottle of Guinness. It’s only sad to think that when he sings “At the end of the day, Brian…what returns can I expect” during “Insurance” that the answer would be, well, diminishing, basically. At least until now.
Because, while Robert may be still “Pissed And Potless” as his collection suggests – and a postman to boot – he’s at least bequeathed a riotous wealth of material that can surely be classified as seminal.
And if that doesn’t merit raising your glass to him, then what the feck does?
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