mr_pearls_brain Feb 15 2019
I saw Basti live in 1991, supporting Curve, with whom they totally wiped the floor. They had 2 drummers, which almost always equals awesome: even 2 drummers playing in unison rock harder than just the one. They had skronking sax and equally skronking guitars and they kicked it up a storm. Twenty five plus years later it occurs to me they had probably heard James Chance and the Contortions. No Wave plus samples is a not unfair description. The album is not perfect but has some really good highlights. It starts strongly with "Culture" based on the quote from Goebbels "When I hear the word culture, I reach for my revolver", sax is prominent, a lot of samples and quite a thick mid-range mix so you really need to turn it up. The next highlight is NYS, with a riff that begins by copping Peter Gunn, but then goes its own way. "Tangle with the caped crusader / lemonade and baked potato" they wurble, nonsensically. Over on side 2 "Buddy" has menacing synthy noises and repeats "He's my buddy / he's my buddy/ he's my buddy with the three box hat" over and over until you'd believe it has meaning (it doesn't). Could be they're saying "boks"? I dunno… One of the other tracks on side 2 (might be "Zombies") has the vocal exchange "I had a dream / You bastard!" while the two drummers and the guitarist treat us to some polyrhythms. The rest of the album isn't quite as good as the above highlights and it fizzles out on side 2, although the closing "Soap Opera" is pretty strong. Well worth it for the highlights if you can seek it out. |
From Last.fm Biography The band was an unwieldy seven-piece. They had two drummers - a form of madness not witnessed since the Glitter Band in 1974 - two guitarists, two singers, one of whom played sax, while the other hit a sampler with his fists, and a bass player. They made a truly head-splitting racket that harnessed a frantic celluloid-inspired faux rage, with songs inspired in part by their favourite films, the rest a by-product of living together in an isolated bungalow on the outskirts of Norwich where they rehearsed, wrote songs, made films and lifted weights. This weird art school/redneck isolation led to songs like New York Seltzer, which would become their first, self-financed, release. Its mangled hard-boiled Peter Gunn riff gave more than one critic the idea that Basti was a product of the ghettos of America. The song was actually about a brand of fizzy drink then being marketed in the UK. Another song sharing this penchant for apparently mundane subject matter was the early live favourite Sticky, a song about things that are sticky, like Sellotape, taco mixture, warm Tarmac and "situations". Further detailing of skewiff domestic minutia came with Soap Opera, a song about a typical day in the Basti household ("…always had to go to the bank first…") The rest were mostly inspired by films: Ro Ro Ro was a paean to Dirty Harry, E.E. was a delirious reading of disaster movies, specifically The Towering Inferno, and Zombies paid homage to George A. Romero's Dawn Of The Dead. Politics and cultural hysteria also provided material for Basti songwriting; Man At CIA concerned itself with American foreign policy (and Arnold Schwarzenegger), while Cub Crush predicted the rise of Islamic fundamentalism and sampled the Islamic call to prayer for good measure. The political insight may have been simplistic ("That mad bastard sees only what he wants to see…" they screamed about Ayatollah Khomeni, going on to ask listeners what would happen if the west came under Shariah law; "…ever wondered what would happen if the lights went out and the advertising stopped?"), but it was delivered with an urgency that gave Basti unstoppable momentum. In 1988, still without a record deal, Basti toured Poland. When they got back to Norwich, they were quickly signed first by a management company, and then by Way Cool Records. All of Basti's mental chaos was thrown into their debut album, enigmatically entitled B. It was recorded in 1989 at Suite 16 in Rochdale, the studio formerly known as Cargo, where The Fall, Joy Division and The Stone Roses had all made records, and Basti were rubbing shoulders with studio owner Peter Hook, buying Joe Bloggs clothes in Manchester and were on the guest list at the Hacienda. In the end, none of it got them anywhere. John Peel played their
records from time to time, they toured relentlessly, first in their
ex-local authority high-top yellow Ford Transit with a tail-lift
for wheelchairs, later in Cambridge United FC's former Ford Transit.
They shared bills with the likes of Richie-era Manic Street Preachers,
The Shamen, Mudhoney, The Prodigy and then-darlings of the indie
scene Curve. The NME and Melody Maker pretended to like them and
various major labels threatened to sign them for a while, having
mistakenly imagined them to be another cute Brit pop group in the
mould of Jesus Jones and EMF (two UK bands then enjoying the Number
1 and 2 spots in the US charts). But after four years or so, Basti
ground to a halt. With Way Cool Records folding, and no major label
coming in to pick up the pieces, morale collapsed. Despite Radio
1 airing an entire 30 minutes of Basti live the night before, three
members unspectacularly quit the band one Saturday in April, 1992.
A four-piece incarnation of Basti hobbled on for another year,
recording some demos for Island Records and touring with Meat Beat
Manifesto, but the band they called Basti was finished. |
dokka.chapman 8 Nov 2020 Edited 2 years ago Forming in Norwich in the late 80's as something of a local indie
supergroup Basti's sole album 'B' is a cacophony of styles that
ultimately walk the fine line between the US Alt. Rock scene and
the Grebo sound that was prevalent around the Midlands. Leaning
on the experimental roots of the Indie genre the band were able
to create a record that where each song offers something different,
weaving their way around both pop & underground vibes with
extraordinary ease.
|
189 CURVE, Basti, Oxford Venue, Saturday 1 June 1991 My first and hopefully last time at this horrendously dilapidated venue, packed to the gills with the converted and the curious (i.e me, and also Richard Branson who was here tonight!). A dank wooden firetrap of a place doesn't inspire confidence at the best of times, but it certainly gives you a bad feeling when you're crammed in with sweaty punters. Also, had an interminably long wait for the support band! However, when they arrived, Basti were worth the wait; an aggressive, "in your face" style of guitar funk rock made for a loud, chunky and enjoyable set enhanced by an energetic frontman. Ady reckoned they were like, "the Poppies with a slapper." So much better than that sounds, though! Curve kept us waiting until 11.30. They are the media "press darlings" at the moment, but honestly sound like Lush cast-offs with a heavier, funkier base. Vocalist Toni Halliday projected an untouchable "ice maiden" image no doubt borrowed from Siouxsie Sioux, as the band played the same song 10 times. I actually quite enjoyed it, in a perverse way, but new? Groundbreaking? Give me a break, people... Posted by David Rose at 20:29 |
Norwich Music Wiki Biography Personnel Discography Spongey Bleach / Basti - Wipe It Away / Man At C.I.A. B BSPEP New York Seltzer Basti Records 1989:
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The
above is a lovely quote
from Karen Reilly of the Neutrinos taken from
Robin Fullers brilliant 'Hatching
Crows' podcast
Join The Singles Club essential advice on pressing your own record You've written a song to guarantee mega-stardom, but the record
companies won't listen to your demo. Adam Green explains how to
beat the majors at their own game, and release your own single. No-one can deny that the idea of having something that you can
stick on your stereo and play to your friends is still appealing,
but first you've got to decide what you want the record for, and
crucially how much you can afford to spend. If you want to sell
it at gigs or end up with something a bit like a souvenir, think
about whether the cheaper options of a flexi-disc or a decently
recorded tape would do. If you want to promote yourself amongst
the A&R barons of the majors, you might still get away with
a (brilliant) tape and a lot of hustling, although it's widely
accepted that some record companies will pay more attention to
a band who are committed enough to splash the cash on some vinyl
product. If you genuinely want to flog some copies, then it looks
as though the 12" single is your best bet — distributors won't
settle for anything less. Whatever you decide to do, it's a long
journey from having the idea in the pub to finally getting the
record on your hi-fi... Whether you decide to use a four track portastudio or opt for the full power of a 24-track commercial set-up will depend on what sort of sound you're looking for and how your band is made up. Broadly speaking, bands who have standard acoustic drums tend to use studios providing at least 24 tracks when they record a single. It is difficult to get a decent drum sound unless each piece of the kit (hi-hat, crash and ride cymbals, kick, floor, snare and tom tom drums) is given its own track. Going to an eight track studio would leave three channels for the rest of the band! If you're in a band that uses an electronic kit or drum machine/sequencer, it is quite possible to get away with using less tracks. Each drum sound can be pre-mixed and a signal fed through one channel (two if the equipment has a stereo output). Having said that, most successful engineers prefer to record keyboards in mono because the sound is invariably cleaner. Similarly, rappers using record decks can often take advantage of this configuration; the most celebrated example being Bomb The Bass who recorded their chart hit 'Beat Dis' on four track. Before you go into the studio, decide generally what sort of sound you want. Perhaps you'll need to record "live" and just overdub the vocals. Some bands prefer to record each element completely separately at different times. A compromise between two approaches does exist: the band plays each song together, but only selected elements are actually recorded while the other parts merely act as "guides". Although many bands will have experience of some recording through doing demo tapes, it is often tempting to try and use all of the extra equipment offered by a larger studio. Basti, a Norwich seven-piece who have recently released a debut 12" single, warn against this. "Unless you've got endless time in the studio, don't start using the technology for the sake of it. I don't think anyone's got enough time to learn how to master it in two or three days. Although it's worth checking out a studio's range of effects, don't inadvertently end up paying for gear you don't need through higher studio rates." While you are in the studio, it's often difficult to distance yourself and be able to tell whether something genuinely sounds good or not. It is often a good idea to bring someone sympathetic along to lend a pair of unbiased ears. Failing that, you can also spread the recording and mixing sessions over different days. A studio is really only as good as its engineer. Spend a fair bit of time asking around, and if possible, listen to samples of previous work. It is fairly standard for bands to expect two or three days' recording
to yield enough material for a four-song EP. How much it'll cost
all depends on which route you take. Budget on £250-£350 for 16-track,
and in excess of £400 for a 24-track studio. "Bands often come and see us when it's too late", Derek Chapman, of Backs Distribution explains. "They turn up with something complete, that doesn't fit our requirements. If you aren't bothered about having a thousand copies of your record sitting under the bed, then fine, but if you are, come and see us first." Distributors come in two main varieties; ones that are linked to major record companies, and others — like Backs — who operate independently but group themselves into a national network called The Cartel. Very basically, without the help of a distributor, you're unlikely to get your record stocked anywhere outside your town and it definitely won't find its way into the likes of HMV and Our Price. As Basti put it: "getting a distribution deal is the next best thing to getting a record deal," and to a certain extent, distributors have the same outlook as record companies. "Ultimately, you've got to sell your record to retailers", Derek continues. "And if you turn up with something that looks awful or sounds terrible, we're wasting our time." Generally, distributors will want to hear a tape and see at least some rough artwork to gain an idea of what your record's going to look like, before they'll consider doing anything. They won't distribute cassettes or flexi-discs, and the poor old 7" single seems to have fallen from favour. Derek Chapman: "As distributors, we get virtually nothing back from seven inchers. We sell the record to retailers for a fixed price and they'll charge whatever they can for it, but we only get 35% of the price we charge the dealer in the first place. For a 7", after we've taken off our costs we'll be lucky to see 5p profit. We also can't export 7" singles to the Continent, where there's a demand for them, because we'll lose even that 5p in export tax." Independent distributors prefer to deal with established record labels. One way unknown bands have managed to overcome that particular hurdle has been to set up or get involved with a local label (Subway in Bristol, and Bite Back in Portsmouth are good examples) who consistently put out records and have built up a sort of brand loyalty. There are six distributors associated with The Cartel across the
country (and that doesn't include specialists who deal in jazz,
world music, and the like) so how do you know which ones to approach?
Most of them retain a bias towards their own regional area, but
not to the exclusion of others. You'll also find that certain distributors
will tend to deal with certain styles of music. Check these out
in a magazine called The Catalogue (available from independent
record shops) which lists the sort of material each company is
dealing with at the moment. Basti's 12" sleeve consists of one extra colour (blue) printed on black and white, and seems to be the option that most bands doing their first single go for. It's up to you whether you pay someone to design it for you, but even if you don't, you'll find yourself shelling out for typesetting (a commercial version of "Letrasetting"). Finally, the finished artwork has to be assembled so that it can be printed. If you manage to get it right, you'll be looking at about £180 plus VAT (Indie Pressing Service in London) for printing outer sleeves and labels, and providing inner sleeves for a 12" single. Basti, though, have no hesitation in recommending a graphic designer. "Designers are expensive (about £150), but you can really tell the difference between something a professional has done and something your mate has. We had a problem with the company who were doing our sleeves. They basically made a mess of it and were trying to make out our artwork was to blame. So we got our designer to give them a ring; a bit of chat in designer language and it was sorted." Most record pressing companies will accept cassettes, but the industry standard remains a quarter inch open reel tape, and this should be what you're aiming to provide them with. Very briefly, your recording will go through the following stages en route to becoming a record. Approximate costs provided by Vinyl Cuts, London, are indicated. i) Your recording is transferred from your tape, electro-mechanically, by creating grooves in a piece of plastic called a "lacquer" (the "cutting stage") — £120 plus VAT. ii) The records are physically produced, via stamping, at a cost of 40p each. At this stage, the labels are put on. Once the original recording reaches the first stage, there is not much you can do to change its sound. It is possible to opt for a loud cut that increases the volume the record will play at, and a small amount of tonal adjustment can be performed at the cutting stage. Paying less doesn't necessarily reflect itself in reduced sound quality. Instead, you might find the quality of service is lower. Darren Murphy of Vinyl Cuts identifies three areas where bands tend to go wrong: "Sometimes tapes aren't of sufficient quality to get a good cut, but more often than not, we have problems with getting the tracks in the right order, making sure there's the right gap between them and so on. The thing that holds us up the most though, is the late arrival of artwork for the label and the sleeves themselves. Sometimes people even forget about the labels entirely." Although it is perfectly possible to negotiate separate deals with pressing and cutting plants, sleeve printers, etc, there are quite a few firms who specialise in arranging everything for you. For example, the Indie Pressing Service offer 1,000 12" singles with black and white plus one colour covers, labels and inner sleeves for about £950 plus VAT. If you're after a flexi-disc (remember most only give you six minutes and thirty seconds in which to get yourself across) it'll cost you about £270 plus VAT from the Flexi-Disc Company in London, including polythene record sleeves. It's possible to do photocopied black and white paper covers for around £70-£80. When your singles are finally winging their way from the pressing plant, you can't sit around and wait for them to sell themselves. Some distribution companies will even insist that you play gigs around the time of your record release. Again, the knack is to get everything that needs to happen happening at the right time. Make sure all the relevant media (radio, newspapers, music press, etc) get copies and prepare for stardom. Well, it worked for the Wedding Present, didn't it? |
HEADSHOT. One to the body and one to the head, BREAKDOWN. Worldwide global and it’s over to you But the B experience goes on from here, Breakdown, it’s alright Better, stonger, leaner, faster To be in the picture is my responsibility So read my lips, yeh, just for fun, ONWARD. It’s easy to fly Onwards. It’s easy to rise Onwards. You gotta fight, you gotta roll, you gotta go ARE YOU WITH US? Too much money not much sense Come and get us My man Chris, he might be right CITY GIRL She’s got the suntan, she couldn’t be sweeter, City girl Super structure rich and treasured I AM AMERICAN BULLSHIT MAN. Security one and much more than that Yo, Oh no This is not a fine time these are not good days, Fuck it up bad, you know you can TOGETHER: LEAGUE. We’ve got to get ourselves together. Let’s all, Yeh now, Business empire misinformation lies |
