The Cravats: In Toytown

Weirdoes seem more pervasive in secluded areas. Yeah, bums you’ll encounter in major cities, roving in crews and drinking in your favorite park are gonna be way more nutty than bucolic people. But the seclusion that out of the way places offer up works as a sort of crock pot, simmering the craziness until it reaches a perfect balance of outsidery goodness and insular intellect. There’re probably hundreds of bands that never got to put down tracks for a record – and there might be a ‘punk’ band  of the snotty, not the garagey variety, that predates anything that ‘scholars’ have been able to hunt down.

The Cravats are the lost link to anything, but they were certainly working with some source material that wasn’t as widely spread as it should have been. The Redditch, UK based group isn’t the Contortions or Pere Ubu, but elements of both those groups are pretty prevalent. Of course, the fact that Redditch is apparently a rather outta the way place might make those American bands all but useless to mention. The likelihood of the Cravats getting an ear full of that stuff isn’t too likely, but possible, of course.

Either way, when the band began in 1977 the Sex Pistols were basically what Brit punk was based upon. Certainly there were other, more skewed ensembles out there, but again, being removed from a major media center probably made it difficult for the Cravats to be exposed to a great deal of the second tier scene. By 1979, the group had secured a deal with Small Wonder Records. That, though, was only after sending a single to Rough Trade found the band holding said recording, smashed up in its hands, alongside a rejection letter from the better known imprint. Classy stuff all the way.

The reticence to offer up support from what passed for the underground label cognoscenti didn’t detour the band at all. And when its debut album, In Toytown, was released all involved were aware of the caliber of the recording. Even today, the disc possesses a bit of futuristic charm. It’s not a perfect effort – part of that owing to the fact that vocalist Robin Dallaway grunts in a fashion befitting Oi! bands on occasion. Despite that lone transgression, though, the combination of bleating horns and an esoteric electric keyboard being plyed by a chap with an interesting take on the instrument rendered the disc something of an outlying success.

Being removed from the center of punkish activities didn’t bode well for the group. Even with songs as strong and thoughtful as “Pressure Sellers,” the Cravats didn’t wind up hitting the big time. That song, though, sports a pretty knotty horn line along a few sparse, ringing guitar chords. It’s not the most artful thing in the world, but could probably pass for a Mekons track from the era.

The Cravats would go on to issue another long player during the mid ‘80s, but it all kinda petered out after that. The principals remain close, so it wouldn’t be beyond the realm of possibility to find the group reforming at some point. Who knows?