Jimmy Coultas looks back on Primal Scream's masterpiece as it marks a quarter of a century of influence.
Jimmy Coultas
Last updated: 22nd Sep 2016
The 90s was a curious time for pop. The first post war decade to be truly bereft of it's own musical revolution, it nevertheless threw up some interesting developments. Dance music experienced epochal fragmentations within genres, trance and drum & bass two such examples, grunge briefly flickered as a global dominating sound, whilst hip-hop’s appeal hardened beyond it’s wildly exciting but occasionally primitive past.
The best music though came when disparate worlds collided. Much like the start of its preceding decade, a lack of singular musical identity managed to create a number of gloriously wide ranging releases. 1991 seemed stuffed with them, Massive Attack’s Blue Lines one such example, built on a palette of funk, reggae, hip-hop and post punk.
The year also boasted Primal Scream’s Screamadelica. Like Blue Lines the musical collage was extensive, a rock band flirting with the nascent rave scene with blues, gospel and dub all battling to be heard amongst the alchemy. There was a distinct difference though; Massive Attack looked at the world with an insular worry, the stench of weed coursing through every groove, whereas Primal Scream were powered by an altogether different drug; ecstasy.
The Scream's introduction to dance music was a little later than many of their peers, so much so that when the genre was first starting to dominate music they were in a completely different place, aping the Stooges on their 1989 released self titled album. It saw them hit critical failure like no other, derided as being deeply unfashionable whilst trying too hard.
It did eventually find one fan - Andrew Weatherall. Whilst the group had yet to be convinced by acid house, two key people in their lives were completely sold. Creation Records boss Alan McGee and the label's press officer Jeff Barrett (who would later start Heavenly Records) were fully enamoured with the sound, and in their attempts to nudge the group towards this burgeoning scene they thrust a copy of Primal Scream to the DJ later that year.
He started remix work on one of the album tracks 'I’m Losing More Than I’ll Ever Have', which disfigured beyond it's original state ended up becoming 'Loaded'. A dancefloor smash and the group's first genuine taste of chart success, it helped crystallise their ascent into club culture, paving the way for the majesty that would follow.
It then took another eighteen months for Screamadelica to appear, an extended time-frame that meant it could quite easily have been a failure. In the spring of 1990 when 'Loaded' was released, Madchester and the baggy scene was in full flow. By September 1991, whilst it wasn' dead, the movement was well past its best. But what prevented the group from releasing a past it release was the way in which the ecstasy experience was augmented not just by electronic music, but by so much more.
Opener 'Movin On Up' is a Rolling Stones love in of epic proportions, the enlisting of rogue Stones producer Jimmy Miller and its raucous blues and gospel fusion ensuring a swaggering punch of pure euphoria. That's followed by the 13th Floor Elevators cover 'Slip Inside This House', the psychedelic rock sound just one of many influences the group riff on throughout.
'Damaged', derided by many as the album's weak link, is genuinely a joy as it morphs from a folksy comedown track into a killer guitar riff; a record the Gallaghers were certainly listening too. The theme of introspection is continued with 'I'm Comin' Down', whilst the soaring sonics of 'Inner Flight' have an almost Beach Boys esque quality to the arrangement.
There are moments, like on 'Loaded', when the group seem peripheral - the wild italo house grooves of 'Don't Fight It, Feel It' one such example. That's coupled with points where the guests or producers seem more prominent, particularly Jah Wobble's star turn on and The Orb's production on 'Higher Than the Sun (A Dub Symphony in Two Parts)'. But this simply adds to the group's aplomb in cultivating the bigger picture, a huge precursor to the era of curation alongside creation.
The ten minute opus 'Come Together' is where the album's influences coalesce together in thrilling glory, summarising the risk-taking creativity on offer. The single was very much in the mould of the album and the era, lead singer Bobby Gillespie's vocals taking centre stage over a house/dub hybrid replete with choir for an obvious radio smash ahead of release. Of course the album version tore that focus up.
A Reverend Jesse Jackson sample kick-starts proceedings, latching onto acid house's penchant for allaying the civil rights movement with their own for a genuine sense of musical empowerment. A strident, morphing dubby groove holds courts whilst every sound and texture of the original is immersed in an aquatic fog, Gillespie's vocals completely eschewed as the choir is paradoxically made prominent and muddled in echo at the same time.
Weatherall commanded the boards for the job, alongside Junior Boys Own partner Terry Farley, but it's clearly an idea the band invested in heavily, a resounding triumph and high point of an album that is simply flawless. That idea of the greater good, an almost momentary sacrifice of ego, encapsulates the purity of what rave culture was supposed to be about - however fleeting it may last.
The album went on to win the inaugural Mercury music prize amongst its litany of critical plaudits, and it's quarter of a century life cycle has become a cornerstone of many music fans collections and listening curves. The band would ditch these sonics in favour of a rootsier approach on 1994's Give Out But Don't Give Up, occasionally toying with various strains of dance music over the rest of their career. 2000's Xtrmntr has gone on to become equally as well regarded, but the group have never truly captured the swaggering joy of Screamadelica - but then who else has?
The influence of the LP transcends rock and dance music. Although with little if any sonic similarity, Dr. Dre's The Chronic followed in 1992 and further established the idea of an album as the thought process of a musical central force as opposed to completely about a singular band or artist - a creative pattern Kanye West has since taken to newer heights.
Primal Scream were and have always been a group who combine a multitude of influences in with their sound, chameleons of genres. Screamadelica saw them essentially allowing that template to bask in an almost DJ mix like state, their sounds remixed. 25 years on nothing sounds anything quite like it.
Primal Scream play the British Sound Project in Manchester Saturday 24th September. Find British Sound Project tickets via the box below.
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