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Friday, October 24th, 2003 was a big night.
In a freezing, graffiti-scarred old factory
called Electrowerkz in Islington, north
London, the bonfire of revolution was lit.
A few weeks earlier Kele Okereke had emailed
Alex Kapranos. The Bloc Party singer, ever
on the lookout for interesting thoughts
and like-minds, had noted what Franz Ferdinand’s
lead singer had said in interviews. He admired
their attitude, and appreciated the same
bands. Kapranos wrote back. He liked what
Bloc Party were saying. He knew the London-based
four-piece were new and had yet to release
a single. But would they do them the honour
of supporting Franz Ferdinand?
They would, and they did. Bloc Party were
amazing at Elektrowerkz. They had something.
“She’s Hearing Voices,”
released on the UK’s Trash Aesthetic,
was Bloc Party’s first single. A rumbling,
vaguely sinister song, inspired by a paranoid
schizophrenic friend of Kele’s, propelled
by a voice that was part agitated yelp,
part robot intonation. Disco-punk, without
cowbells on. And they’d only just
begun.
Kele (23) and guitarist Russell Lissack
(23) knew each other vaguely through mutual
friends in Essex where Kele went to school
and Russell lived. They met again at the
Reading Festival in 1999 and resolved to
start a band together.
They wrote together in bedrooms. For months.
And months. Slowly, methodically, they got
better. In early 2000 they met Gordon Moakes
(28). He had escaped the newly constructed
town, Milton Keynes, with dreams of being
in a better place. He saw the ad Kele and
Russell put in the NME, looking
for a bass player. “Sonic Youth, Joy
Division, Pixies, DJ Shadow,” Gordon
knew this wasn’t just “normal
rock.”
In early 2003, via a shared associate, they
met Matt Tong (25). He’d come to London
to study music technology. Toting a community
college diploma, his own basic recording
equipment and an enthusiasm for everything
from Fleetwood Mac to Dead Meadow, he became
Bloc Party’s ninth drummer.
The rest of 2003 was spent building up their
gigging muscles. By the time of the Elektrowerkz
and Metro shows, Bloc Party were a ferocious
live act.
Into 2004 and Bloc Party were on the march.
“She’s Hearing Voices”
was recorded in their cheap, moldy but special
rehearsal space in Acton, west London. Paul
Epworth produced their second single, the
amphetamined ska-pop of “Banquet”
(released in the UK on Moshi Moshi, and
in the US on Dim Mak). He mixed it in a
bedroom on a laptop, then remixed it with
added dancefloor oomph.
Bloc Party soon signed with Wichita UK,
the little East London label with big ideas.
Here was a UK act to go toe-to-toe with
the label’s top-drawer US acts. A
band for all seasons and reasons. They had
a dark, brooding, often ferocious sound
to scare the parents and remind older siblings
of the artier end of New Wave. Melody and
energy to inspire the moshpit. They were
multi-racial and therefore riled up the
spirit of young, multi-cultural Britain.
Meanwhile, in July, as the headlines raged,
the reviews raved and their third single
“Little Thoughts” dived into
the UK’s Top 40, Bloc Party nipped
off to Copenhagen with Paul Epworth. Destination:
Deltalab Studios, home of Junior Senior
(oh yes), retro Sixties/Seventies décor,
and racks of malfunctioning vintage equipment.
Purpose: 22 days to record 15 tracks. Problems:
bare mains cables and a kit that wouldn’t
play ball. As Epworth understates, “while
this added a danger-of-death edge to the
recording, it also added an anything-could-happen
vibe.”
Epworth describes the recording: “We
rattled through it. Bam! Bam! Bam! A false
start with ‘Luno,’ moved on
to ‘Marshalls,’ on to ‘Plans,’
a jump to ‘Like Eating Glass,’
on and on... Matt Tong firing his trademark
machine gun rolls from skin to skin... we
began to build. We set about pouring our
ideas into the vat... doubling basslines
with synths, bleeps, bongos, backwards reverbs,
arpeggiators, glockenspiels, vibraphone,
piano, 2 drumkits, loops, marching through
a whole track with bits of 4x2 gaffer taped
to our feet, cowbells, triangles, ring modulators,
electronic strings, mandolin, MANDOLIN!”
Bloc Party came home with Silent Alarm.
The album title is taken from a New Scientist
article about earthquake morning systems.
The band liked the resonance, felt it fitted
with the music. A warning, but an ambiguous
one. Unrest. Tension. Energy.
“Positive Tension” is a case
in point, a throbbing, techno-flavored epic
with huge, Nirvana-style riffing. “So
Here We Are,” a shimmering hit-in-waiting.
Opening things, “Like Eating Glass,”
a shouty, wire-y clarion call. Rounding
things off, album finale “Compliments,”
a more atmospheric, downbeat, intense track
from this upbeat, agit-funk four-piece.
Let’s go back a bit, to the ideas
and manifestos. Sitting at the heart of
Silent Alarm is “Pioneers.”
So says the band, “it’s a warning
to those who think they can change the world.
Not everyone can, hardly anyone does. It’s
about talking up your own limitations. Trying
to break down the ridiculousness attached
to rock bands. If we’re about anything
we’re about that avoiding cliché,
letting ideas stand for themselves.”
Bloc Party and Silent Alarm: a
vital album from a passionate band for an
honest new year.
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