 Perhaps the saddest thing in a long list of sad things about the untimely demise of vastly underrated Derby noise kings Cable is the fact that, for those who choose to remember, it will be for an advert not an album that they will be most famous. However, with three albums of noticeable quality in existence and the effect that this music had on a loyal group of fans, it is of some contentment that they are most certainly destined for far greater than not being remembered at all. Of the three major releases for record label Infectious, perhaps second album 'When Animals Attack' stands alone as an album that really did deserve to have been to indie-rock what Refused's, 'The Shape Of Punk To Come', was to hardcore music, i.e. genre defining. Of course it wasn't but what is for sure is that this album, amongst myriad merits, leaks individuality and creativity from every pore. There is an almost hypnotic feel to the quiet loud dynamic done to death so many times before but here it feels altogether fresh. Certainly the two-guitar aesthetic, rarely used to such effect in other bands of the time, is a massive part of that. The intertwined guitar lines of Matt Bagguely and Darius Hinks, one often angular and punchy set against the other all treble led and discordant, is a mish-mash born from great originality. However, as 'God Gave Me Gravity' exemplifies, just as you have them pinned down for an above average twist on the Pavement formulae, they explode into rock out sections resembling more the sound of a rusty nail on a tin roof than any regular college sounding indie band.
There is a definite air of experimentation permeating the overall sound of this album but this is no art noise for art noise sake. Songs that may on first listen appear experimental and awkward soon reveal themselves to be melodic gifts from the gods because at the heart of all of the noise lies a pop sensibility of Beatles-esque proportions and a soul the size of a small planet. The fractured rolling riff attack of album opener 'Souvenir' soon transforms into a melodic tidal wave of a song, with tsunami vocals to match, "get your figurine souvenir" howls Baguley whose delivery, although not the most technically gifted, only adds to the individual feel of the album.
Perhaps most comparable to the indie noise of American bands such as Sonic Youth or Fugazi this is, however, a very British sounding album. What it does share with those bands, though, is the characteristic that is so vital to making noisy albums work: the tightness of the band is astonishing. This is something that can no doubt be attributed in no small part to the precision tight rhythm section with the furious yet very controlled drumming of Richie Mills most potent on 'Bluebirds Are Blue' while bass player Pete Darrington takes centre stage on 'Signature Tune.' The two combining to greatest effect on 'Freeze The Atlantic' (the aforementioned advertisement tune.)
In an ideal world this band should have defined a generation, this album up there with the likes of 'Goo' or 'Slanted and Encanted' but it never quite happened. Perhaps because they were from Derby and not New York but more than likely because they had no real interest in pandering to major label demands or musical trends. So as it came to pass, the band were forced to call it quits days after the release of their final album 'Sublingual' sued by their own management in an apparent breach of contract for agreeing to forgo payment for the advertisement (for the soft drink Sprite) in the hope it would help to spark mainstream interest. Rumours of a 2002 reformation came and went and the Cable story seems for now resigned to the past. However, there is a definite feeling of unfinished business within the fan base that still exists some seven years later and it is such great testament to the music and to those men that there are still fans eagerly awaiting a reformation all these years later.
Chris Hidden |
| Coding: Darren Burrows