FEATURE:
Oh Yeah
Ash’s 1977 at Thirty
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ONE of the biggest albums…
IN THIS PHOTO: Ash circa 1996
of the mid-1990s turns thirty on 6th May. Ash’s debut album, 1977, contains huge songs like Girl from Mars and Oh Yeah. I remember it coming out and the buzz around this terrific new band. Led by Tim Wheeler, the Northern Ireland trio put out one of the best debuts of the ‘90s. With critics comparting 1977 to the best work from bands like Sonic Youth and Buzzcocks, I want to shine a light on the album ahead of its anniversary. I am going to lead in with a feature from Guitar.com that was published around the thirty-fifth anniversary of 1977 in 2021. Mere months after leaving school, “Ash released a classic power-pop debut teeming with naive teenage romanticism and soaring guitar moments”:
“There were better, more complete and certainly more sophisticated records made in the mid-90s, but few if any of the albums that arose from the height of the frequently daft Britpop boom evoke a more complete sense of misty-eyed nostalgia for the era than 1977. It feels scarcely believable that it’s already a quarter of a century old.
Ash formed in 1989 at school in Downpatrick, Northern Ireland, initially as Iron Maiden covers band Vietnam. Singer and guitarist Tim Wheeler, drummer Rick McMurray and Hamilton followed the breathless grunge-pop promise of 1994 mini-album Trailer by heading into the studio with Oasis producer Owen Morris early in 1995. They emerged with Kung Fu, written in five minutes at Belfast Airport on the way to the sessions, Girl From Mars, penned by Wheeler at the age of 16, and Angel Interceptor. The latter was recorded using The Verve’s equipment, including a drumkit once belonging to John Bonham, with Morris still in the middle of producing A Northern Soul.
A gradual introduction
Suitably impressed by three storming singles lit up by Wheeler’s swashbuckling lead playing, the band’s label, Infectious Records, packed Ash off to Rockfield Studios in South Wales to record the rest of what would become 1977. Kicking off on New Year’s Day 1996, there was one slight problem. The band arrived without nearly enough material and were forced to write the remaining songs in the studio, where Morris was “gradually introducing us to drugs,” recalls Wheeler.
“I wasn’t really ready for it, although it was all I’d ever wanted,” the singer and guitarist told this writer years later. “It was a mad time, those whole couple of years. We meant to finish it in six weeks, but it ended up taking us about two and a half months.”
With the clock ticking and pressure from the label building, work continued as the band enjoyed snowball fights with the Boo Radleys, who were recording C’Mon Kids next door. Morris, meanwhile, was becoming increasingly hedonistic, taking acid, “throwing fire extinguishers through the studio glass and dancing on top of this £500,000 console,” according to Wheeler. On one particularly extra-curricular day, the producer sent the easily-led teenagers to a provincial village charity shop to buy women’s dresses to record in.
“Technically it was our first job out of school, but it didn’t feel like a job at all,” Wheeler told Vice. “It felt more like all of our dreams coming true at once.”
A punch in the face
While the three slightly gawky looking teenagers were becoming unlikely Britpop poster boys, they didn’t subscribe to the prevailing atmosphere of Beatles, Stones and Kinks reverence. Named partly in reference to punk’s landmark year (thankfully drunken working titles Look Girls, Cut The Shit And Suck My Dick and Women & Tits were quickly rejected), 1977 betrays Ash’s love of bands such as Buzzcocks, Ramones and The Undertones. It’s hard, too, to listen to the album without hearing the influence of Dinosaur Jr’s 1988 cult classic Bug and the romantic melodicism of Teenage Fanclub’s Bandwagonesque.
While he would go on to indulge his dual-guitar Thin Lizzy fantasies when Charlotte Hatherley joined the band in 1997 (check out their cover of Weezer’s Only In Dreams for the high point of that partnership), the playing on 1977 is all Wheeler’s. First picking up the instrument at 12, he left behind initial metal tendencies when he was seduced by the quiet-loud dynamics of Nirvana, Pixies and Sonic Youth. Ash’s frontman is a self-confessed Les Paul addict, with a 1960s Les Paul Custom Black Beauty his main studio guitar these days, and his favourite live instrument an early-80s Korina Flying V, but 1977 was surprisingly recorded using a 1995 Grestch Silver Jet bought on the band’s first US tour.
Wheeler doesn’t waste a second once the TIE has disappeared into the distance on opening “punch in the face” Lose Control before unleashing the Jet. He launches into a breakneck tremolo-picked ascending octave riff and returns for a frantic solo soaked in wah and dominated by huge string bends. There’s barely a pause for breath before arguably the best song the band have written – Goldfinger. It’s a universal story of teenage romance, the bittersweet grungey chorus built around the simplest of chord structures (B♭/G♯/B/F♯/B). Wheeler delivers another corking solo, overtaken by the soaring jet engine sound of a dimed phaser, as the rain lashes down outside and he waits for his love to arrive. We never find out whether she does”.
Before moving to some reviews of the magnificent 1977, I am highlighting an interview from 1996. Tim Wheeler in Chicago speaking with Olaf Tyaransen. It must have been an exciting time for Ash, but also one that was quite scary. Going to America and promoting their music must have been quite intense for such a young band:
“Tim's here to discuss the band's current American jaunt. This is their third time touring in rock & roll's spiritual home and although their debut album 1977 (the year of Tim's birth) has now shifted nearly three quarters of a million copies worldwide, they're still far from being household names over here at the moment. If their fame could be graded like their O-Levels then they'd probably get a D. Constant touring is the key to cracking the mainstream and Ash have been doing quite a lot of it in recent months. In fact, they've only managed to spend four days at home in Northern Ireland so far this year, having spent most of '96 living on a tourbus.
"We started touring last spring with a tour of the UK," he recounts wearily, "then we did Europe and then a few Irish dates. After that we spent almost all the summer in America. Then we came back and did a few European festivals like Reading and stuff. We got a few weeks off and then we started this big tour where we did Thailand, Japan, Australia and New Zealand. Then we came straight out here again."
Ash are now five weeks into an exhaustive two-and-a-half month tour of the States. They're not actually playing many headline gigs themselves, sensibly choosing to ride the slipstream of more established bands instead. Next month they're playing a few dates with Weezer and a support slot with Bush is also on the cards for next year. At the moment, however, they're playing with Chicago techno-punksters Stabbing Westward, whose homecoming gig it is tomorrow night.
"They're really cool," says Tim. "They're a band that's really on the up over here. They're pretty big on MTV and stuff so it makes a big difference touring with someone who's really drawing in big crowds and stuff. Like, it's much better than playing our own little club shows.
"The last time we were here was good as well, but we were playing to much smaller audiences. We were sorta selling out really small clubs and getting a really good reaction from everybody who saw us but still it wasn't an awful lot of people, so I think it just takes a lot of time here, touring and building up a fanbase. Once this tour is over we probably won't come back until after the next album's released. And then we'll probably spend a lot of time here."
Have you begun working on the next album yet?
"No, I haven't done anything," he says, shaking his head ruefully. "I haven't written any new stuff because it's just been so hectic with all the touring we've done so far this year. I don't really wanna rush the next record because it's really important. So we'll just take it easy and wait till we've some time off before we start getting into it."
Any ideas about how it'll sound?
"I'd say the music will be pretty different," he avers. "It'll be better, stronger. I think the best thing we've ever done was the 'Goldfinger' song. It's quite different from all our other stuff and I think we'd like to go more in that direction. More dark and mysterious. Not so poppy but still very melodic. I've actually just been asked to write a song for the new film by the guys who made Trainspotting. It's gonna star Ewan McGregor and Cameron Diaz and I'd say it's gonna be huge in America. It's actually set here - it's a gangster movie, a kind of romantic comedy. But it's being made by British people so it'll probably take the piss a bit. It should be pretty cool. So we're gonna write a new song in January for it. We're gonna do a brilliant job on it as well."
Although Ash are a three-piece, Wheeler is still very much the band-leader and driving creative force behind them. "I wrote most of the last album myself but Mark sometimes writes new tunes as well. He's not as into it as me but he's got some good ideas. Rick doesn't bother too much really."
Despite the fact that he hasn't actually written any new material yet, Tim's already moved on from his earlier lyrical concerns. In theory at least.
"I look back on some of the lyrics from the album and they now just seem a little too sickly sweet for me," he admits. "You know, I won't do them like that again. But that was what I was into at the time, I was really into Phil Spector pop songs and Beach Boys kinda stuff. So yeah, it's very important to me that we move on and just get better. But I think that will come naturally anyway. My understanding of music has increased more. I should have kept writing though. I think I was getting really efficient at it by the time we finished the album. But I had to take a break. It was all getting too heavy.
"Songwriting is one thing that I know I can do a lot better than a lot of people. It is my skill really. I don't find anything more rewarding than just finishing a song. I'm so proud of 'Goldfinger', I think it's really good."
Seeing as you're from the North, would you ever think of writing a song about the political situation there?
"No, not really," he says. "None of us ever gave a shit about it while we were there. I mean, we were aware of it but we didn't really care about all of that shit. Really it's such a shame what's going on there because when you get out and see a bit of the world, you realise just how irrelevant it all is. And we've seen some really scummy places while we've been out on tour that just make you realise how much Northern Ireland has got going for it. It just needs people to wise up.
"Some of the things we've done have been pretty cool though. That show we did in Belfast - 2,500 people, kids of both religions and sides just out enjoying themselves together. I know I've said this before but that's more than a lot of politicians have done. At least we're bringing people together. And look at our road crew. We're a Proddy band and all of our crew are Fenians! So I reckon we do enough already without writing a song about the whole thing"
The songwriters Wheeler admires include Van Morrisson, Lennon, McCartney, Bowie and, of course, the late Kurt Cobain. In fact, he reckons that things just haven't been the same Stateside since Kurt killed himself.
"I think most American music these days is just really bland," he opines. "It's all very commercial. There hasn't really been anyone much good since Nirvana."
How about British bands? What do you think of Oasis?
"I think Oasis are amazing," he grins. "They're really entertaining. You know, they're proper rock stars - they get busted for drugs and stuff like that."
Speaking of proper rock stars and their lovable antics, over the last two years Ash have garnered a bit of a reputation for themselves as decadent, hotel trashing, full on rock & roll hooligans. It's not something that Wheeler denies (though I've yet to see any evidence of it with my own eyes).
"Well I suppose we are still quite reckless sometimes," he grins, "but really a lot of that stems from the excitement of being in all of these new places for the first time. Sometimes the urge just takes us."
And when was the last time you gave into these, em, urges?
"Nothing too serious has happened since Australia," he admits. "You know, the odd champagne bottle has been thrown across a hotel lobby and some furniture has gone out of hotel windows into swimming pools and that kind of thing."
Do you get billed for those kind of shenanigans?
"Yeah," he laughs. "The first time we were in Japan it cost a fortune. Whatever anything cost the hotel management multiplied it by 4 or 5 times when they were getting us to pay for it. One paper lampshade that we trashed cost about #200! At least that's what they charged us - it probably only actually cost about #40. They just rip you off all the time. So we don't trash things in Japan anymore."
Although Ash have a reputation for wanton destruction and excess, Tim insists that they're not really into drugs in a big way. They might smoke a bit of dope and Mark Hamilton's past problems with acid have been widely reported (he was hospitalised for a short period last year when he failed to come down from a particularly nasty trip), but at the end of the day, alcohol is what floats their collective boats.
Is honesty important to the band?
"Yeah," he nods. "We're real about everything."
A rare breeze of cold sobriety passes through the room and the three old schoolmates look at each other seriously for a moment. "Christ, we've really been through a lot in the last two years," mutters Tim and the other two nod their heads smiling. They appreciate how lucky they've been. And still are. Flying nonstop around the world playing music. And getting very well paid for it as well.
Back when you were just a Downpatrick schoolkid, did you ever think you'd be sitting in an American hotel room midway through an extensive tour discussing your band and their antics with a music magazine?
"Yeah, I did," he affirms. "We kinda had this vision which we followed blindly for some reason and it has all gone pretty much according to plan. It feels like fate or something. We didn't know how to get a record deal, we didn't even know how we were ever gonna get out of Downpatrick. But somehow everything just fell into place."
"I think we're pretty realistic about what we have to do now anyway," adds Mark. "Particularly over here. We're starting to understand America a bit more now. Like, everybody's saying that Oasis are huge in America but they're not. They're pretty big but they're not gigantic. Bands like Bush are much bigger.
"So we're aware that we're probably gonna have to tour our asses off over here. If you look at the English bands that come over here, most of them play a couple of short tours and then realise how much hard work it's gonna take so they give up and come home. Suede, Blur, Manic Street Preachers, Pulp - none of them have really tried hard to establish themselves. The only British band really pushing themselves are Radiohead. They're getting pretty big over here as well. So our plan is to really tour our asses off next year when we've done the second album."
Of course, not everything always goes according to plan. One thing that isn't helping the band in their efforts to conquer America is MTV's reluctance to air any of their videos. Truth be told, though, they've really only got themselves to blame”.
I do want to round things off with some reviews. Drowned in Sound provided their thoughts on an album which I think should be talked about alongside the best of the 1990s. Although some feel there were better albums than 1977, there is no denying that Ash’s debut made an impact and is important. Reaching number one in the U.K. upon its release, it was a huge moment for the Downpatrick three-piece:
“And it starts well. Very well. Lose Control's rawkus, quiet/loud punk action almost smells of packed out youth clubs with Tim Wheeler at the mic, losing his heart to teenage love and its naïve charm. He even then, in a whirl of sexual frustration, gives us sensational wanky-lead and wah pedal action to volcanic effect. Put up the parasol...I'm in heaven...
Oh but there's more...Goldfinger's majestic and almost Stone Roses (well...the beginning reminds me of them...) like pop swagger jumps into your arms like the lovely 16 year old damsel you always dreamed of. The sappy imagery of "Listening to the rain" is just fantastic. Never has music sounded so damn young and with the prospect of sex always looming. When Girl From Mars comes in, the question must be; Could these boys ever survive out of the sixth form college? Could their little hearts really handle it? Angel Interceptor is the icing on the already heavily tiered cake. Sweet and seducing cute-punk as only Ash seem to deliver. Teenage girls everywhere are swooning to the pop screwing sensitive types and the boys are just rocking along with their invisible low slung Flying-V's (especially to Kung Fu).
This album still does have its faults. For a man who lusts after The Pixies sometimes the album just is too... soft. "Always on my mind" totting Lost In You is like a tear stained Shed 7 in slow motion. Gone The Dream's polite indie is just a space filler along with Let It Flow's samey pop rotation and Innocent Smile's slow build-up frankly is too slow for me. Harder tracks like Darkside Lightside and I'd Give You Anything are fine but are not what Ash do so well.
This album is an album by the young for the young. And as that it is almost out on its own. Though it is by no means perfect or complete, the severe hooks of the best of the Brut smothered tunes will always get 1977's name mentioned. This the perfect album to bring back all those memories of early Moshing experience, crop tops and countless cold showers”.
I am going to end with the BBC and their review of 1977. Eventually being certified Platinum in the U.K., many publications – including Kerrang! and NME – included NME on their best-of-the—year lists for 1996. I do hope that something is done to mark thirty years of Ash’s debut, as it is a remarkable album:
“There are albums that define generations, and then there are those that will forever soundtrack a flash rather than a lingering resonance heard across the years. Ash’s debut LP, named in honour of the year Star Wars hit cinema screens and "opened" by the scream of a TIE Fighter (unless you had a CD copy with two hidden tracks at the beginning – this writer did), falls face-first into the latter category, sauce from last night’s takeaway still sticky on its chin and with a less-than-faint whiff of booze about it.
1977 is perhaps best remembered by those who shared in its sentiments – written by a trio of teenagers, for an audience of the same, it preoccupied itself with chugging alcohol, chasing after girls and messing about with martial arts. Frontman Tim Wheeler was just 19 at the time of its release and, like most 19-year-olds, was likely enjoying legal drinking age status; but his songs recall a time just previous to chucking away the fake ID, where park benches were bar stools and a bottle of flavoured wine drink was the choice of the get-drunk-quick teen on their way to a parents-away party.
For this writer, who sold a games console to pick up this record (amongst others, in a since-closed-down-local-indie-shop binge), singles like Angel Interceptor, Girl From Mars and Kung Fu will forever soundtrack foggy memories of spilling out of houses that weren’t home, at a time when bed should have been reached some hours earlier. And this writer is certain he’s not alone in feeling that way.
But listening today, almost 16 years after its release, 1977 isn’t all pop-punk knock-abouts in the vein of its mini-LP predecessor Trailer (one of its tracks, Jack Names the Planets, is one of the pre-Lose Control hidden gems). Goldfinger has stood up to the test of time mightily well, roaring into life with a maturity that wouldn’t fully compose itself until Ash’s third album, 2001’s Free All Angels. Here, bespectacled drummer Rick McMurray sounds as if he’s pounding mountains while lanky bassist Mark Hamilton’s pulling off Jedi mind tracks with his four-string; at the time of writing, the toes can’t help but tap along to something of a Britpop-period classic.
Hamilton’s sole solo composition, Innocent Smile, is amongst the simpler arrangements, in debt to stateside grunge bands and replete with delinquent lyrics – but its raw energy remains as infectious in 2012 as it’s ever been. Best-known cut Oh Yeah helped shift its share of albums, peaking at 6 on the singles chart in the June of 1996, and Wheeler’s imperfect vocal makes its tale of teenage infatuation all the more believable. He’d become a better singer, but has never quite conveyed emotion as perfectly as he did so here. And to the ears of a 16-year-old, his words were gospel: this was the way to rule.
And rule Ash certainly did: every single from 1977, 95's Girl From Mars onwards, went top 20, and their between-LPs effort A Life Less Ordinary (from the film of the same name) was also a top 10 hit. Their stock may have fallen in recent years, but to listeners of a certain vintage Ash will forever be summer holidays and half-inched hooch, stained into the grey like a spilled alcopop”.
For anyone who might be unfamiliar with Ash’s 1977, go and play the album. You will be familiar with a few of the songs at least. Turning thirty on 6th May, I wanted to spend some time with 1977. It is an album that makes an impact and elicits reactions…
TO this day.