Around the time that punks stopped being angry and started being miserable, a band called the Comsat Angels released three seminal albums that no one bought. Originally released between 1980 and 1982, all three have finally been reissued on CD (with neat bonus tracks). After a dubious mid-'80s foray into Flock of Seagulls-type synthesizing, the still-intact Comsats have returned to form with last year's Glamour and their earlier Caroline release My Mind's Eye, released under the name C.S. Angels.
The problem with being an angst-rock band is that you can get pretty silly sometimes. The Comsats never got silly. There are excesses, but where Ian Curtis of Joy Division would scream about his anomie, and the Cure's Robert Smith would moan about it, Comsats lead singer Stephen Fellows is ashamed of it. He hides behind the music, resigned and paralyzed. These albums made me feel dislocated, like I was completely alone and misplaced in the world. It may be an artificial feeling, but the Comsats did instill it. That counts for something.
The Comsats skewered their mixes so heavily toward bass that they achieved an overwhelmingly oppressive sound. Lumbering basslines and echoing, intricately patterned drums drag down whatever joviality might be lurking in the song structures. Guitars either fill or solo, but rarely carry each track. Strident, amelodic keyboards shadow everything else.
With more drive than their subsequent albums, their debut, Waiting for a Miracle, is the place to start. The bass carries most of the melodies, and the songs are accessible and energetic. The rolling title track features a boring town, a boring party, heaps of ennui over a hypnotic bassline, and not much else. The title of the vehement "Total War" says it all. Other songs follow in similarly distinctive fashion, making for a brilliant debut.
Sleep No More is much, much darker. All poppy hooks have been surgically extracted, the bass doesn't pound so much as mope, and this gap is filled by harsh, droning guitars and subtle but ever-present keyboards. Lyrics are impressionistic and disorienting; melodies are jagged and dissonant. This one is no picnic, but in a way, it is their finest achievement. It's not something to listen to every day, especially if you're depression-prone, but the album firmly establishes a mood that few others have. The bonus tracks are much more accessible, including "The Eye of the Lens" and "At Sea," where Fellows does indeed sound like he's being engulfed.
Fiction eases up on the depression factor a lot, allowing for traces of optimism and even humor. Often veering toward pop, the songs are brighter, the keyboards are more prominent, and the guitars are gentler. "After the Rain" is nearly synth-pop, and "Ju Ju Money" is strangely dreamy, although it features the biggest drum sound my cheap stereo has ever managed to make. Of course, "Now I Know" returns to booming bass-land and "What Else!?" is as much of a downer as the title suggests, so it's not quite a Human League album. Still, Fiction draws a line between drama and whimsy that is both surprising and effective.
Each of these albums has its own character and is easily better than all but one or two albums of the past few years. Fans of Joy Division, the Chameleons, Echo and the Bunnymen, and Magazine will love the Comsats' albums from the first note; others may find them difficult but rewarding.
-- David Auerbach
Copyright 1995, The Yale Herald, Inc. All rights reserved.
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