If anyone is ever up for a ‘best ever self-titled debut LP’ conversation, then The Raincoats have to be in it…
Formed in 1977 in the vibrant West London arts (squat) scene, The Raincoats were right in the thick of the Punk movement, but always at odds with it. Firstly they were (by the time the album was recorded, anyway) all female, and in that world that had previously been a rare thing. Formed by Ana da Silva and Gina Birch as a guitar-and-bass duo, after two years of personnel changes, they were joined by Palmolive from The Slits on drums (who would then leave and be replaced by Ingrid Weiss) and Vicky Aspinall on violin. But also importantly, their sound is so peculiar. Like punk, their songs are raw, primal, sometimes primitive and driven by social and political climates, but the timbres they incorporated - especially the more classical leaning tones of the violin - and the immediacy and imperfect nature of the performances are just so thrillingly impulsive. The Raincoats album is one the most off-kilter and beautifully human records of the period.
Their landmark self-titled debut was released by the pioneering Rough Trade Records in November 1979, one of the label’s earliest album releases in fact. No Side to Fall In opens the album with fractured guitar lines and deadpan delivery, like the centre can’t quite hold — which is entirely the point. Off Duty Trip takes aim at privilege and hypocrisy with a steady, almost sarcastic bounce (and an amazing change of pace for the chorus), while Adventures Close to Home winds personal moments into political ones with a wry smile. The addition of Lora Logic’s saxophone on Black and White and Aspinall’s ever-present violin keeps the whole thing unpredictable, constantly tugging away from rock tradition. Even the production feels anarchic: instruments bleed into each other, vocals weave in and out, the mix leaves rough edges visible. In the very best possible way, it always sounds like they’re about to fall apart but never quite do. The album gets progressively more experimental, they bash out a ripping cover of Lola and when it ends with a bang, you just want to start all over again.
"I don't really know anything about the Raincoats except that they recorded some music that has affected me so much that, whenever I hear it I'm reminded of a particular time in my life when I was (shall we say) extremely unhappy, lonely, and bored. If it weren't for the luxury of putting that scratchy copy of the Raincoats' first record, I would have had very few moments of peace. I suppose I could have researched a bit of history about the band but I feel it's more important to delineate the way I feel and how they sound. When I listen to the Raincoats I feel as if I'm a stowaway in an attic, violating and in the dark. Rather than listening to them I feel like I'm listening in on them. We're together in the same old house and I have to be completely still or they will hear me spying from above and, if I get caught – everything will be ruined because it's their thing."
- Kurt Cobain
Like so many Sunday Classics, The Raincoats didn’t exactly set the world alight on release (in their defence, 1979 is often regarded as one of the most celebrated years in recorded music history), but the album was certainly revered for its idiosyncrasies and quietly radical approach. That said, again like many Sunday Classics, the album has continued to find new audiences and inspire for pushing fifty years, considered a touchstone for indie music, the Riot Grrrl scene and experimental production as an act of liberation rather than limitation.
It’s music made on the fly, messy and human, and so much more powerful because of it. An album of possibility, twisting rhythms, cracks and pops, and charm personified. 