I don't know where this was published, if it was published anywhere, but I will tell you the file is dated 2 December 2005, so, 15 years ago.
MINIMUM CHIPS
Kitchen tea thank you
Trifekta
THE BITES
This is a full stop
Dusky Sounds
Coming as I do from a
broken home, I am probably attracted to the band dynamic in which a man and a
woman are the bosses of the group through thick and thin. Now, I staunchly
refute the notion that the family is the building block of society – class and
power are and if you won’t acknowledge that, you’re part of the problem – but
it’s nevertheless a convincing and appealing dynamic in a band.
Julian Patterson and
Nicole Thibault have been helming Min Chips for half their lives. Ian Wadley,
the man-child of the equation (I’m going to stop drawing parallels now) has
apparently left for good, if you can typify touring the world with the Bird
Blobs as doing something ‘for good’, rather than ‘for sick evil’. Over the last
three years they have had a very excellent bass player in Ellen Turner (before
that they had one in Guy Blackman).
Minimum Chips’
approaches to establishing themselves as an albums act (and therefore suited to
EON-FM) up to this point have been a bit like that joke from Monkey Business – where Chico, disguised
as an aviator, explains how they crossed the Atlantic and were just about to
land when they ran out of fuel, so they had to go back. Min Chips did comps and
monster EPs and every other kind of record imaginable but never quite made an album.
Precious! Until now. Kitchen Tea Thank
You is by far their best work ever. ‘Alaska’ is a swampy, bluesy number.
Ian Moss should cover it. ‘Nic nax’ reminds me of Robert Wyatt’s ‘Alfie’, but
with much better drumming. ‘Snow Peas’ is the kind of song that would come
third last track side two on a mid-70s LP released on Virgin by a Swedish
progressive rock band called Silmarillion. ‘Treats’ is psychedelic in an Os-Mutantes-meets-Hatfield-and-the-North
way. ‘Trouble free’ is their answer to ‘(I’m) Stranded’. ‘Hong Kong’ is tops.
Like MC, The Bites
always had this stentorian, gothic couple up front, Rene and Kirsty. They had
very strict rules, like no-bass-on-stage and no-Rene-sing. They had many
talented accoutrements to their group, and Simon – who precipitated their
demise as a group by leaving to join Doug Parkinson In Focus – was the best
drummer for them though they did have
amazing good taste in drummers. But ultimately it was Kirsty and Rene to the
fore and dedicated entirely to bitedom. The only disappointing thing about This is a full stop is that it’s so
freakin’ short and it’s so freakin’ their epitaph.
And that’s sad also
because with Simon, and having reconvened after losing members following the
first album, they were moving into a very interesting and unique space, a
first-two-Pretenders-albums (eg ‘Precious’!), mid-60s-Stones, X-Ray Spex, rocky
Versus, Angels, Sleater-Kinney or for that matter 99, Lakes, Tactics kind of
space. If it had visuals it would be like the back part of the upstairs room at
the Pony but with the ceiling of the Capitol Theatre. ‘I’m Not Coming Down’ is
pop; ‘This is a False Alarm’ is very dirgey with apparently no bass (according
to the sleeve) but bass everywhere (must be something wrong with our stereo or
the neighbours are rabbit bombing). ‘One Million Miles’ would go on The Fall’s Slates, if Mark Smith sang it instead of
Kirsty. In fact, this is kind of The Bites’ Slates:
their best, most succinct, work, just angsty enough, but funny enough too,
a lot like Prince really. The last two tracks, by the way, don’t add much –
unlike the first five brilliants, they’re like the extender cheap wine you
start on after you’ve drunk the quality stuff. But nevertheless…
Both of these records
are magnificent in their varying ways and you need to own them.
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