Simple Minds: Early Stuff that Won't Make You Wretch

Simple Minds: Early Stuff that Won't Make You Wretch

"Don't You (Forget About Me)" made Simple Minds a boat load of money. And while band members can’t be bummed out about that or being internationally famous, it’d be an easy bet that the group is well aware that most of its music is nonsense and only a slim portion of its catalog is worth examining at this late date.

That’s a pretty pervasive view of most eighties, one off groups. Raking in a profit for some inane pop song must have been worth the time – and even if touring didn’t wind up being something of modernity’s orgy, no one would be complaining.

But forgetting Simple Minds’ historical import when considering the grand trajectory of popular musics from the last few decades, it’s the group’s first few albums and a clutch of demos which present themselves as something more than musical wallpaper.

On May 11th and 12th, 1978, Simple Minds wasn’t a buncha rich dudes crooning about spandex wearing, vacuous sweethearts. It was a revved up punky ensemble – most likely with a taste for amphetamines. Of course, there’s a reason the band didn’t pursue this particular avenue of music making for too long.

It’s plain that Simple Minds enjoyed this sort of punk fair, but just as evident that it wasn’t all that well equipped to compete in a cluttered market place. Hearing “Tonight,” sporting verses in which the guitar sounds disastrously close to the Velvet Undergrounds “Guess I’m Falling in Love,” presents a adroit clutch of musicians cranking out tunes jiving perfectly with then acceptable punk standards. The thing is, Jim Kerr’s singing doesn’t fill up enough space, or possess enough attitude to get the group over. And after taking in the entirety of the demos, it’s no great loss Simple Minds moved on to other pursuits.

A year, the group would issue two long playing records which possessed very little similarity. The second of those two recordings Reel to Real Cacophony is something of a minor, new wave classic. Thing is, no one would ever admit that in public. The proper songs on the disc aren’t all that tremendous – Kerr still not being the best front man one could hope for. But musically, Simple Minds hit some weird stride as evidenced by all the odd guitar sounds soldered together for the all too short “Cacophony.” Just following that track comes “Veidt” – presumably about the German actor Conrad who stared in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Surprisingly, the effort could have been included on any of Pere Ubu’s albums from the seventies. It’s that good. Too bad, it was pretty much all down hill for Simple Minds after this. Bummer.