New Wave for the New Week #110

"Lawnchairs are everywhere
They're everywhere
And my mind describes them to me..."

That particular bit of paranoid nonsense is the chorus of one of the most wonderful one-hit New Wave obscurities in the genre's history, the 1980 single "Lawnchairs" by Our Daughters Wedding.  ODW was among that early batch of synthesizer bands who had not succumbed to the Europop glossiness of the New Romantics, but instead were plinking away robotically and winking ironically at those listening to their off-kilter lyrics and skittish melodies.

Keith Silva, Layne Rico and Scott Simon started playing together in San Francisco in the late seventies, trying their hand at guitar-based Punk, but found little success.  By 1979 the three had reunited in New York City and agreed to get the band back together, but this time they replaced the guitars and drums with synths and rhythm machines.  They built a following among fans of like-minded bands such as Mi-Sex, The Units and Silicon Teens, and in 1980 had their first two singles out on the independent Design label; first "Nightlife," then their cult favorite, "Lawnchairs."

In 1981 they were picked up by the EMI label and released an ep, Digital Cowboys, which, in typical major-label fashion, contained a re-recorded version of "Lawnchairs." This new, far more polished and far less appealing version of their "hit" was quickly issued as a single to replace the earlier version.  EMI was moving the band toward a more commercial sound, smoothing the rough edges and making their music more accessible to the MOR crowd. The track "Target For Life" showed promise, though.

ODW's first and only full-length album, Moving Windows, soon followed, showing even more potential.  They found themselves on tour with Orchestral Manouevres in the Dark, The Psychedelic Furs, and other such MTV-approved New Wave bands, and they might have found similar success had they not had a severe falling out with the bigwigs at EMI.  The label pulled support for the record, which quickly sank into obscurity, and that was the end of Our Daughters Wedding

All of ODW's records fell out of print, but in 2006 very nearly all of their recordings, including both versions of "Lawnchairs," were collected for a CD release, Nightlife: The Collection.  Missing only one album track and a few b-sides and obscurities, it is as complete a discography of ODW as you could hope for.  Unfortunately it, too, is now out of print and fetches high dollars if you can find it.  You'll have better luck tracking down the vinyl - just be sure when you find the "Lawnchairs" single you have the 1980 Design records version, not the EMI re-release from a year later!

There is no video clip for "Lawnchairs," just the audio-only clip below. Enjoy this obscure New Wave gem!

New Wave for the New Week #24

Image via Wikipedia

Quickly - how many bands can you name who feature a classically trained oboist? If you said "Icehouse!" give yourself a hand.

Iva Davies, known for his mega-mullet and for crooning some for the schlockiest Top Forty drivel this side of John Oates (who co-wrote one of Icehouse's biggest American hits, 1987's "Electric Blue"), was pretty much single-handedly Icehouse. Singer, songwriter, producer, keyboardist - and, yes, able to rock an oboe - Davies took his band from Australian obscurity to worldwide MOR radio success in the late '80s. So why am I writing about a band who made their fortune peddling mainstream fluff? Because of one album and, more specifically, one fantastic song which remains one of the catchiest, most wonderful blasts of synth-pop from the New Wave era.

Icehouse began life in the late '70s under the name Flowers. Based out of Sydney, Australia, Flowers originally was a fairly straightforward bar band. Synthesizers were becoming more and more accessible at the time, and Davies took to the plinky electronic sound quickly. Flower's debut album, 1980's Icehouse, was a bright, shiny slab of synth-based, hook-filled delights, and with the major record labels searching the world over for their piece of the New Wave pie, it wasn't long before Chrysalis Records came calling with an international record deal.

One catch: the band had to change their name. Seems there was also a British band at the time calling themselves The Flowers, and Chrysalis did not want any confusion. So, in 1981, Davies and his band were introduced to the world as Icehouse, with the album of the same name remixed and re-released, with all references to the previous band name gone.

Some seeds of Icehouse's eventual wimp-rock sound are evident in a few of the album's tracks, but the strength of the three singles released from Icehouse make this album, a must-have for fans of early synth-pop: the eerily ethereal "Icehouse" (yes, they seemed to really like that word...), the shimmering "Can't Help Myself," and this week's NW4NW entry, the exuberant "We Can Get Together."

Sporting a nifty "real life vs. animation" video years before everyone oohed and ahhed over A-Ha riffing on that visual theme, and loaded with some of the catchiest hooks around, "We Can Get Together" remains one of those songs that leaves most folks scratching their heads wondering why it wasn't a massive hit. But it was roundly ignored by commercial radio, and saw minimal airplay on MTV. Icehouse seemed destined to fade from the map.

Six years later, Davies reinvented his band, grew his hair out to Michael Bolton-esque extremes, and ratcheted up the "sensitive guy" factor, and finally hit the big time with songs like "Crazy" and "Electric Blue." For those of us who knew Icehouse back when, this new Icehouse was a great disappointment. Thankfully, we can pull out that one wonderful album and remember the good version of the band.

So here is this week's New Wave for the New Week entry, Icehouse's "We Can Get Together." Enjoy!