The Durutti Column: LC

This second album from Vini Reilly's The Durutti Column takes its name from Lotta Continua (Continuous Struggle), a far right-wing organization in late 1960s Italy and which is a sort of analog to the band name, which is a misspelling of an anarchist group from 1930s Spain.

Recorded on four-track tape at Reilly's home, the album is a stellar one, featuring Reilly's superb guitar and piano, the first appearance of long-time drummer and manager Bruce Reilly, and a slew of great songs.

These start with the relatively up-tempo "Sketch for Dawn (I)," which has a driving drum beat from Mitchell and rhythm guitar from Reilly to anchor this excellent song.  There are many who don't like Reilly's monotonal vocalizations, but this listener finds it better to have the creator sing his own songs, even if his abilities are, technically speaking, lacking.

"Portrait for Frazer" highlights Reilly's uncanny way with achingly beautiful melodies and atmospheric playing, while Mitchell, who is a master at this, plays with great sensitivity and understatement.

"Jacqueline" has one of Reilly's most memorable melodic lines and is another fine example of his playing exactly what needs to be played without overdoing it or relying on flashy solos to show that his gift for simple, spare, but compelling composition is balanced by his talent with the guitar.  Again, Mitchell provides the right time of percussive accompaniment.

"Messidor" has a more aggressive percussive element and Reilly multi-tracks guitars to great effect, with another one of his recognizable melodies.  While it has a stronger rhythmic element and a faster tempo, it contains a contemplative feeling that is typical of so much of what makes The Durutti Column's music compelling.

"Sketch for Dawn (II)" is a darker and more somber affair.  Part of this is Reilly's vocal, but there is a rare bass line, played by him, and a particular percussive feel that contribute to the feeling.  Reilly's piano sounds like it is played on an old, beat-up upright, but it may be the 4-track recording process that is much of the reason why.

"Never Known" uses drum machine percussion, a ghostly atmospheric electronic effect, and one of Reilly's most heart-breaking melodies to create another downcast, but achingly beautiful pieces.  That peculiar flat vocal, which sounds like he recorded it in an echo chamber, again seems perfectly suited to the emotional content of the piece.  That melodic line on the guitar is something else.

"The Act Committed" is brighter and more upbeat, backed by Mitchell's low-key drumming and by a drum machine, with Reilly's bass and more fine multi-tracked guitar, with another excellent set of melodic shapes generated.

"Detail for Paul" has more multi-tracked guitar that utilizes echoed effects and a rising main guitar line almost like a continuous solo, backed by drum programming, that is another absorbing tune, though it ends rather abruptly.

The original album ends with what is undoubtedly Reilly's masterpiece.  The astounding "The Missing Boy" has another excellent melodic guitar line, with accompaniment utilizing Reilly's bass and piano, as well as Mitchell's exemplay drumming and propulsive guitar and piano rhythmic accenting.  The lyric is said to be about the recent death of Ian Curtis, the troubled and tormented singer from Joy Division, the great band that was, like The Durutti Column, one of the early groups to record for Factory Records.  Again, that odd flat, nasally vocal recorded low in the mix seems perfectly suited for the song, which closes out a remarkable record.

Under the Factory Once imprint of remixed and expanded releases from the catalog, the 1996 reissue has several bonus tracks, including the brooding piano piece, "The Sweet Cheat Gone"; the whimsical and strangely affecting "For Mimi" with an angular guitar and Mitchell's simple drumming used to fine effect; "Belgian Friends" which has another strong melody on guitar and piano in a very lo-fi setting, which is only amplified by Mitchell's basic, but perfect, drumming and Reilly's bass, but which makes for a great song; and "Danny," which has another of those great guitar melodic lines that seemed endless in Reilly's long catalog of recordings--this being another exceptional piece.

Rather than throw-aways, the eight additional pieces seem truly more like the "Related Works" that they are described as in the liner notes, with all but one being from the period (1980-81)--the other is "One Christmas for Your Thoughts" from 1988, which is more of the era of The Guitar and Other Machines, which was highlighted here before.

Vini Reilly is truly a remarkable talent and one who doesn't fit the "alternative" "post-punk" environment that surrounded the other groups signed to Factory in 1978.  Label owner Anthony Wilson was a devoted champion of Reilly's music, even as he worked in obscurity for so many years, and remained so even when Factory and its successor labels shut down.

For this blogger, discovering The Durutti Column in 1986, wanting to know who one of New Order's opening acts was, remains one of the most memorable discoveries of an unsung musician of them all.  Reilly, who was always of delicate health, has been inactive in recent years, but his music over thirty-five years remains inspiring and affecting.

The Durutti Column: The Guitar and Other Machines

This was an album bought new on cassette when issued in 1987 and it was striking how different much of the sound was compared to earlier records.

For one thing, even though drum machines had been used on the first Durutti Column record, The Return of the Durutti Column (1979), there was an increasing use of electronics for The Guitar and Other Machines, as discussed in the liner notes of the expanded album version released under the Factory Once iteration of Anthony Wilson's Factory Records label.

In his typically breezy and idiosyncratic style of writing, Wilson observed that "Vini had some new technology thrust upon him" in the form of a Yamaha sequencer and a DMX drum machine.  With these new tools, the guitarist created a recording that featured much of his gorgeous guitar, as well as keyboards (he was first a pianist) and which was augmented with drums, xylophone and the drum machine by longtime compatriot and manager Bruce Mitchell, violist John Metcalfe and guests Stephen Street, who played bass on one track as well as produced the album, Rob Gray, provider of mouth organ on two tracks, and vocalists Stanton Miranda and Pol.  Tim Kellet, who had been in the band but left to join Simply Red, contributes a good trumpet solo on "When the World."

The other major change was that, while there was plenty of the precise and atmospheric guitar playing that has distinguised Reilly from anyone else emerging from the postpunk era, The Guitar and Other Machines features some examples of performance that are more "rock" like.  The most amazing result was the absolutely scorching guitar solo from "When the World."  There are similar sounds on "Arpeggiator," as well.

Finally, there is Stephen Street's production.  He had produced Morrissey's Viva Hate, which Reilly, who had been in a short-lived punk band with Morrissey in the late 1970s, performed on, so the partnership here appears to have meant a more direct and, perhaps, accessible sound.  This is a good thing, actually, as the opening up of the sound takes Reilly out of a more confined environment without sacrificing any of his aesthetic.

What is rather typical, though fantastically so, is the way that Reilly and his collaborators blend instrumentation, creates evocative emotional sounds, and makes his work so personalized.  A beautiful piece like "Jongleur Gray" with Reilly's guitar and piano juxtaposed with Gray's harmonica is then followed by :When the World" which begins with drum machines, Reilly's rhythm guitar, and a distant harmonica before the vocals from Miranda come in.  Suddenly, the uncharacteristically searing guitar blasts through the piece, changing the atmosphere substantially and in a thrilling way.

After that is the sublime "U.S.P." which is a feature for Reilly's fantastic acoustic guitar playing--something that hasn't been heard often enough for this admirer.  Then, on the excellent "Bordeaux Sequence" more drum machines and electronic keyboards lead into some plucked viola from Metcalfe before Pol's beguiling vocals take the piece somewhere else.

Following is the beautiful "Pol in B," following a long tradition of Reilly's in naming pieces for those close to him.  The extraordinary lead is echoed by pretty acoustic flourishes and keyboard touches--yet another example of his unique penchant for creating some of the most striking mood music.

These examples show how the diversity and the sequencing of the pieces make The Guitar and Other Machines a highlight in the long and extraordinary career of one of the most interesting musicians around.

There are four bonus pieces known as "Related Works" in the Factory Once reissue series, including "Don't Think Your Funny" which provides Vini's oft-maligned vocals with a backing vocal layered behind and is another simple and effective little piece at under two minutes.  The unusual use of bongos and sampled audio make "Dream Topping" and "You Won't Feel Out of Place" distinctive for the DC discography.  "28 Oldham Street" has a rhythmic keyboard pattern under Reilly's trebly work on his guitar, while drum machines come a bit in to the piece, making for a nice piece.

On the CD insert, there is reference to four other pieces from a performance at Peter Gabriel's WOMAD festival in 1989, but this must've been for a UK version, because the one discussed here lacks these tracks.  These can be heard elsewhere, notably on the 1989 album Vini Reilly, as well as 1991's Dry collection, and include the incredible "Otis," a sampling of soul singer Otis Redding's voice with one of Reilly's most memorable guitar lines.

The Durutti Column: Circuses and Bread

This fifth album by the fantastically underappreciated Vini Reilly and his cohorts Bruce Mitchell on drums, trumpeter Tim Kellet and violist John Metcalfe appeared in 1985 and this listener's first experience hearing The Durutti Column came with an EP highlighting one of the best pieces in all the group's long history, the wonderful "Tomorrow," which is the second track on this great album.

As mentioned before, the reason for buying that shorter vinyl release in summer 1986 was because, in buying tickets for a New Order show at what was then the Irvine Amphitheater, it was learned that the two opening acts were the almost-unknown The Fall and The Durutti Column.  Having the latter walk quietly on stage, with Mitchell's extraordinarily basic kit and Kellet and Metcalfe's unassuming instruments and then, finally, Reilly perched on the floor for much of the performance, the show was totally out of proportion to the environment and would have been far better suited to a small club, as, presumably, was the usual type of venue for this sublime band.  The Fall and New Order were good, but TDC was a revelation, even in the freakishly wrong setting.

In any case, this is a very strong album from start to finish with the gorgeous "Pauline" opening the proceedings beautifully, followed by the aforementioned "Tomorrow."   Even the drum machines are programmed nicely in "Dance II," which highlights Reilly's ability to play rapid, delicate lines overdubbed with another rhythm guitar line. 

"Hilary" is another wrenching ballad, its simplicity highlighted by the deeply echoed trumpet of Kellet.  "Street Fight" is an intriguing context of Reilly's searching piano theme performed along the viola and the sounds of gunfire, perhaps reflecting the violence then ravaging Northern Ireland--this being a rare instance of politics (even, if vaguely and subtly expressed) on a TDC record. 

Reilly seems to easily create memorable and delicate melodies and "Royal Infirmary" has a fine one with excellent guitar and piano playing by the leader.  For those turned off by Reilly's rather tuneless (and, yet, for this leader beguiling and artlessly compelling) vocals, "Black Horses" might be a stumbling block and it does last nearly 9 minutes, but it has more of the finely layered, carefully crafted subtle dynamics that makes this band such a strong one.

"Dance I" has synthesizers, drum programming, and a marimba-like percussion element that almost seems to prefigure the largely-electronic sound highlighted in Obey The Time, which came out about five years later.  Then comes the strong closer, "Blind Elevator Girl—Osaka," which starts with plucked viola, a repeating and light melodic line from the keyboard and Mitchell's rhythmic cymbal work before it moves into a punchier (well, for this band) section that worked well in live settings, including an abbreviated form in the Live at the Bottom Line, New York record and the Domo Arigato album recorded in Japan, and which highlights Kellet's soaring trumpet.

Circuses and Bread is a highlight in a stellar catalog by a performer and a band whose work was so far under the mainstream radar it was a bit surprising.  The Durutti Column and Vini Reilly definitely have operated their own narrowly confined worlds, but that might be part of the attraction for those fortunate few who have been devoted fans--enjoying their music seems like an experience only you and a select number of others can enjoy, though it would be nice to see Reilly get more credit and financial reward for his thirty-five years of consistently excellent music.

Why, though, this is the only TDC album to not get the deluxe remixing and extra tracks reworking in the later 1990s under the Factory Too imprint is a bit of a mystery!

The Durutti Column:  Circuses and Bread (Factory, 1985)

1.  Pauline
2.  Tomorrow
3.  Dance II
4.  Hilary
5.  Street Fight
6.  Royal Infirmary
7.  Black Horses
8.  Dance I
9.  Blind Elevator Girl—Osaka

The Durutti Column: The Return of the Durutti Column

It was 1986 and YHB was going to see New Order play at what was then called the Irvine Meadows (now the Verizon Wireless) Amphitheater, an outdoor venue in southern Orange County.  New Order was at its synth-driven pop peak, but the two opening acts were virtually unknown in these parts.  These were The Fall and The Durutti Column and, curious to know what they might sound like on stage, YHB purchased recent releases from the groups, including an album from the former and an EP from the latter.  The second had an immediate impact, including the gorgeous song, "Tomorrow," which became a mainstay of The Durutti Column's discography.

When the concert started, an exceptionally thin and frail looking guitarist, Vini Reilly, ambled on stage and sat down on the floor, which was a strange sight in a place that seated thousands, and there he remained for the entirety of the set.  A viola player, a trumpeter and a drummer, the exceptional Bruce Mitchell playing on a small kit, followed.  In the large open-air environment, the band played songs characterized by exquisite guitar playing with viola and trumpet accompaniment and occasional solos and Mitchell's polyrhythmic touch, often using brushes.  The performance was excellent, though entirely out of place, and this blogger was hooked.  Then, The Fall appeared with its steady backbeat, driving guitar, and sarcastic poetic and political utterances from the irascible and irrepressible Mark E. Smith.  During these unusual opening acts, the mainly young audience generally ignored the proceedings, but roared when New Order took the stage to perform their staggeringly popular danceable anthems like "Blue Monday" and "Bizarre Love Triangle."

There are many great albums by The Durutti Column, the sole mainstay of which is Reilly, though Mitchell has been a part of most recordings.  Classically trained on piano, Reilly turned to guitar in his teens (he was briefly in a punk band with Stephen Morrissey, later known simply and famously as Morrissey from The Smiths and his long solo career) and is an phenomenal player, though hardly given to pyrotechnics, with a few exceptions.  Instead, he plays with extraordinary facility, grace and precision, using gorgeous melodies and phrases rather than power chords or extremely rapid runs to make his mark.

It all started in Manchester, England, when impresario Anthony Wilson created the legendary Factory Records label and made The Durutti Column his first signing, just ahead of famed groups like Joy Division and Cabaret Voltaire.  There was actually a band involved, but, before too much studio work could be attempted, two songs appeared on the label's initial release, A Factory Sampler from 1978, the unit disintegrated.  Wilson reconfigured things so that the debut record, recorded in late 1979 and cheekily titled The Return of the Durutti Column (which, internally within Factory, it was, though publicly it was not) was Reilly accompanied on some pieces by a drummer and bass player, but on others by drum machines and synths manipulated by producer Martin Hannett.  Both were notoriously idiosyncratic and uncompromising in their vision, but the combination worked.

The Return of the Durutti Column, which came out in January 1980, is entirely instrumental, with Reilly's lyrical and understated guitar playing taking center stage, but Hannett's production and atmospherics a perfect complement.  The entire album is great and songs move pretty seamlessly from one to the next.  The opening "Sketch for Summer" and its kindred "Sketch for Winter" are excellent embodiments of the Durutti sound, the latter featuring Reilly's gorgeous work alone.  The shorter "Jazz," probably named for the drum machine cymbals utilized in it, and one of the longer pieces, "Conduct," are also very noteworthy.

Wilson and Factory were notable for unusual promotional and marketing ideas and one of them was the printing of the 2,000 copy run of the album on sandpaper, these being assembled by the members of Joy Division, soon to become legendary "post-punk" figures.  These initial vinyl copies included a flexidisk with two electronic pieces by Hannett.  In the 1990s, after Wilson resurrected Factory with a distribution deal through major label London Records, he reissued the back catalog of The Durutti Column in his "Factory once" series.  The Return of the Durutti Column like other band albums features those Hannett pieces and four other songs recorded in 1980, two produced by Hannett.  The cover shown here is from that 1996 reissue.  YHB's initial copy of the album was actually a cassette housed in a burgundy clamshell box with a piece of sandpaper as a liner, one of several such clamshell editions of TDC albums obtained from a Tower Records store in Brea.

The 2002 film 24 Hour Party People a loosely-based biopic about Wilson, Factory and the Manchester music scene has a scene of Reilly playing to an empty house at the famed Hacienda Club owned by Wilson and Factory.  While Wilson worked hard to champion the group and Reilly, The Durutti Column did have a small following in Manchester and a larger one overseas, being particularly popular in Portugal and Japan.  Despite the failure of Factory, versions one and two, Reilly has continued a regular recording schedule of uniformly excellent records, which will be covered here subsequently.  It is amazing that, nearly 35 years along, this criminally underrecognized musician is still steadily working to a small, but loyal, following.

The Durutti Column: The Return of the Durutti Column (Factory Records, 1980)

1.  Sketch for Summer
2.  Requiem for a Father
3.  Katharine
4.  Conduct
5.  Beginning
6.  Jazz
7.  Sketch for Winter
8.  Collette
9.  In D

1996 CD bonus tracks on Factory once:

10.  Lips That Would Kiss
11.  Madeleine
12.  First Aspect of the Same Thing
13.  Second Aspect of the Same Thing
14.  Sleep Will Come
15.  Experiment in Fifth