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Dragnet can be overwhelmingly dense, folding in viola-like guitar like John Cale’s queasiest recursion (“Muzorewi’s Daughter”) and then Krautrock-leaning funk spiked with garbled demands and harsh glossolalia (“Put Away”). But the heavy hand lightens by “Choc-Stock,” a singsong slice of feral nonsense akin to Syd Barrett with a head cold and a hangover. There’s an answer to Witch Trials’ “Music Scene” in the form of “Spectre vs. Rector,” but it’s nothing like its predecessor; its sludge and subliminal menace practically invented post-rock as an afterthought. The track is visceral, reeking of spilled pints and machine oil, evoking the industrial scum-scape that incubated it.
His inimitable drawl moan and general vision of the universe idiots are everywhere and idiotic things are rampant similarly sprawl all over the music -- there s no question who this is or whose band it is, either. By the time the eight-minute closer Music Scene crawls its way into oblivion en route, beating Public Image Ltd s similarly distended Theme and Fodderstompf to the punch by months the Fall had already established themselves as something far more wobbly and toxic than the emerging post-punk mass.
This allows you to listen to their station live through the internet. Simply visit their website and look for a "listen live" or "streaming" link. Finally, some radio stations may have their own mobile app that allows users to listen to their broadcasts on their smartphones or tablets.
Live at the Witch Trials
New reissues of the Fall’s first two albums find the band hungry, angry, and taking switchblades to a grim future.
Featured Tracks:
“Industrial Estate” — The Fall Via SoundCloudWhen the Fall’s “Industrial Estate” plays during the closing credits of High-Rise–Ben Wheatley’s new big-screen adaptation of J. G. Ballard’s classic novel–it’s more than a case of similar subject matter. True, the film is about urban malaise, and so is the song. But Ballard’s vision of a tower block turned hermetic, ingrown, incestuous, and cannibalistic unfolds with a clinical exactitude. On the other hand, “Industrial Estate” is a spew of dissonant chaos, fugue-state chants, and malfunctioning carnival organs that inhabits the liminal space between punk and post-punk–just like the rest of album it appears on, the Fall’s 1979 debut Live at the Witch Trials. At the time, the first wave of post-punks were taking Johnny Rotten’s “no future” rant and parsing it like surgeons, laying it bare and reducing it to its components like Ballard. The Fall were no exception but, where many of their contemporaries used anesthetic and scalpels, they packed switchblades.
Witch Trials came out in the spring of 1979, Dragnet in the autumn of 1979. Accordingly, these albums (newly reissued) are very much spring and autumn records, inasmuch as such acutely urban records can have ties to nature. The Fall came together in Manchester in 1976, the year punk conflagrated across England. Its working-class founder Mark E. Smith and his crew immediately hopscotched over punk, delivering an EP in 1978 (Bingo-Master’s Break-Out!) that tapped into everything from the Seeds’ keyboard-slathered garage rock to Can’s elemental clatter.
Witch Trials was both a step ahead and a step back with true punk bangers like “Futures and Pasts,” two-and-a-half minutes of eye-gouging and haranguing that unravels in hyperventilating gasps. That deconstruction quickly morphs from cheeky to sinister. “Rebellious Jukebox”—one of the first self-aware Fall anthems—churns and stutters, thrown into each successive moment by a serpentine bassline that coils like inside-out dub. Smith is all sneers and snarls, delirious as he struggles against and succumbs to rock’n’roll entropy. “We are The Fall/Northern white crap that talks back,” he taunts, chewing the microphone on “Crap Rap 2/Like to Blow.” Soon after, he takes a leap into the cosmic void: “We are frigid stars.” By the time the eight-minute closer “Music Scene” crawls its way into oblivion—en route, beating Public Image Ltd’s similarly distended “Theme” and “Fodderstompf” to the punch by months—the Fall had already established themselves as something far more wobbly and toxic than the emerging post-punk mass.
You can pogo to Witch Trials; you can’t to Dragnet. Where Witch Trials is wiry, Dragnet is weighty. The eight months separating the release of the two albums saw a huge lineup change, setting the pattern of perpetual upheaval that would become the Fall’s constant. Most notably, guitarist Martin Bramah left, and his empty space was filled by existing bassist Marc Riley and new recruit Craig Scanlon. On Dragnet, Riley and Scanlon echo each other just out of sync, rezoning the rhythmic domain of the songs. “Before the Moon Falls”—an eerie track that hints at such contemporaries as Pere Ubu and Swell Maps—jangles with urgency and decay. “I must create a new scheme,” Smith vows, a dirtbag urchin with a brain too big for his skull.
Dragnet can be overwhelmingly dense, folding in viola-like guitar like John Cale’s queasiest recursion (“Muzorewi’s Daughter”) and then Krautrock-leaning funk spiked with garbled demands and harsh glossolalia (“Put Away”). But the heavy hand lightens by “Choc-Stock,” a singsong slice of feral nonsense akin to Syd Barrett with a head cold and a hangover. There’s an answer to Witch Trials’ “Music Scene” in the form of “Spectre vs. Rector,” but it’s nothing like its predecessor; its sludge and subliminal menace practically invented post-rock as an afterthought. The track is visceral, reeking of spilled pints and machine oil, evoking the industrial scum-scape that incubated it.
In a 2011 interview, Smith said that Ballard’s 1962 post-apocalyptic novel The Drowned World was the only book by the author that he liked. Even then, he referred to it only as “that one where the world’s underwater.” Erudition in the formal sense is never what Smith or the Fall were about, and that’s made plain on Witch Trials and Dragnet, where Smith’s loathing of cultured, mannered learning oozes from every fracture. Instead, the albums are celebrations–if not exhortations–of working-class precocity and street-smart intellectualism cobbled together from thrift stores bookshelves and stolen snatches of philosophy. Hungry, angry, and ugly: that’s the post-punk proclamation of the Fall’s first two albums, a flag that would fully unfurl with the release of band’s masterpiece, Hex Enduction Hour, three years later. But for a fleeting few seasons in 1979, in the hands of Smith and his gang of urban mutant malingerers, all that mattered was feeding the future to itself and seeing what got puked back up.
That the first Fall album in a near endless stream would not only not sound very punk at all but would be a downright pleasant listen (thanks to Yvonne Pawlett's electric piano on "Frightened") seems perfectly in keeping with Mark E. Smith's endlessly contrary mind. His inimitable drawl/moan and general vision of the universe (idiots are everywhere and idiotic things are rampant) similarly sprawl all over the music -- there's no question who this is or whose band it is, either. That said, most of Live at the Witch Trials is co-written with Martin Bramah, whose guitar work here is noticeably much more inclined to chime and ring instead of brutally scratch away like Craig Scanlon's awesome work would soon do. Bramah's not just here to sound tuneful, though, and the killer Marc Riley/Karl Burns rhythm section both keeps up the energy and provides surprising grooves. On chugging tracks like "Two Steps Back," it's not hard to tell that Smith's Krautrock fandom is coming into play. With Pawlett's keyboards providing a pretty garage kick on top of it all, the result is an all-around treat. Brilliantly scabrous tracks are everywhere, one of the most memorable being "Rebellious Jukebox," simultaneously one of the most tuneful and aggressive songs from the early lineup, Smith pouring it on along with the band. The driving funk of "Music Scene," meanwhile, redefines misanthropy (and more) with a particularly central Smith target in mind. "No Xmas for John Quays," meanwhile, almost establishes the Fall formula on its own: Smith chanting and yelling over a quick, semi-rockabilly shamble and attack punctuated by unexpected stops and starts.
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Reviews for "Enjoy the hottest tracks with the live signal streaming of Magic 103.1."
1. Mary Johnson - 2 stars
I was really disappointed with the live signal of magic 103.1. The sound quality was extremely poor and I could barely make out the lyrics of the songs. It felt like I was listening to a radio station from the 80s. The reception was also very spotty, with frequent periods of static and interference. Overall, it was a frustrating and unpleasant listening experience.
2. Mark Anderson - 1 star
I can't believe how terrible the live signal of magic 103.1 is. I was expecting a high-quality streaming experience, but instead, all I got was constant buffering and lag. It was impossible to enjoy the music because it kept cutting out every few seconds. It's a shame because I've heard great things about this radio station, but it was a complete letdown.
3. Emily Thompson - 2 stars
The live signal of magic 103.1 was a huge disappointment. The audio was distorted and inconsistent, with random drops in volume and clarity. I also experienced frequent interruptions in the stream, which made it impossible to listen to a full song without being interrupted by loading screens. The technical issues with this signal are unacceptable, and I would not recommend it to anyone looking for a reliable and enjoyable radio experience.