Classic Album Review: The Associates - Sulk (1982)

Craig Stephen on a Scottish indie masterclass …

In 1981 The Associates were an eclectic taste, a semi-experimental group known only to a select clique.

But by 1982 the Scottish act had become commercial property, with top 10 hits, magazine covers and appearances on Top of the Pops.

The reason for this incredible turnaround in fortunes was the album Sulk, which remains to this reviewer’s ears the best Scottish album of all time (yes, even better than the Bay City Rollers’ debut) if not one of the finest albums with geographical limitations removed.

It was adventurous, brazen, brilliantly written and musically magnificent while retaining the independent streak of the immense talents of Billy MacKenzie and Alan Rankine. The duo were The Associates although at the time it was officially a four-piece. Sulk was glamorous enough to pique the interest of the New Romantics and DJs on Radio Happy, and dark and esoteric enough for those with more eclectic tastes.

It included the poignant and emotionally charged ‘Party Fears Two’, which was good enough for the British top 10 and the spur for the success that was Sulk. It was written some years before its release and was apparently inspired by the sight of a couple of obnoxious teenage girls at a party, hence the title. It could explain the line: “The alcohol loves you while turning you blue.”

 MacKenzie, who hailed from Dundee, and Rankine, of Edinburgh, met in 1976, just as punk was about to kick off. They formed two proto bands before landing at The Associates. Their initial foray into the world was an under-produced and unauthorised version of Bowie’s ‘Boys Keep Swinging’, which certainly got them noticed. The Affectionate Punch (1980) and the semi-compilation Fourth Drawer Down (1981) followed on independent labels. They were warmly welcomed in the music press but just a little too esoteric for the general listener.

Through a complex “big brother” hierarchical record label system, The Associates found themselves a deal with Warner Brothers, and a large advance, some of which was used to house MacKenzie’s beloved whippet dogs in their own hotel room and feed them smoked salmon.

Nevertheless, they recorded in what has been described as a “drab, workmanlike space” in a grey, industrial location. Still, they were able to utilise what they had and this resulted in densely layered keyboards, echo effects and expansive reverbs. Listen closely and you’ll hear sheet metal shaking, canisters being rolled, and other studio tricks. Over the years compilations have been released containing demo versions of some of the songs that appeared on the album, and you can see what monied production techniques and ambition can do to transform tracks from raw and unpolished to soaring, epochal cacophonies.

As well as MacKenzie and Rankine, this line-up consisted of Michael Dempsey and John Murphy on bass and drums respectively. Both had been with the band for around two years, but were generally kept at the back of the bus as the duo hogged all the photo and interview opportunities that came their way. Canadian Martha Ladly, of new wave act Martha and the Muffins, was a prominent guest, supplying vocals and keyboards and her photogenic appearance ensured she shared some of the publicity.

The curious recording style extended to the track listing: ‘Party Fears Two’ and the other hit single ‘Club Country’ were kept to the second side. Listeners began their aural adventure with the three-minute instrumental ‘Arrogance Gave Him Up’. It ends with an instrumental too, which would become the single ‘18 Carat Love Affair’. These two instrumentals seem somewhat peculiar as it’s MacKenzie’s magnificent voice that is the money shot.

MacKenzie possessed a vocal range that defied description, ranging from deep to the soaring high-pitched tenor that was very individualistic. It was beguiling, enthralling and beautiful. Later, MacKenzie would develop his vocal talents, and bested Shirley Bassey when both sang ‘The Rhythm Divine’ for Yello in separate versions. Songs such as ‘Bap De La Bap’ and ‘Skipping’ are created around MacKenzie, whose ambiguous and oblique lyrics gave them a neo-gothic feel. Bravely, the band tackled ‘Gloomy Sunday’, a song with Hungarian roots and considered to contain a hex over those who sang it. That didn’t deter Billie Holiday, nor did it put off MacKenzie who gave it his own unique sound.

Several tracks engage the listener before we reach ‘Party Fears Two’, one of the most perfect songs ever, and ‘Club Country’ which seemingly condemns elitist structures if the chorus is to be read correctly: “Alive and kicking at the Country Club/ We're always sickening at the Country Club/ A drive from nowhere leaves you in the cold/ Refrigeration keeps you young I'm told.”  

They had their moment in the sun, and Sulk should’ve led to regular appearances on television and stadium gigs. But it all turned to custard rather quickly. Even before the year was out Rankine was gone, frustrated beyond belief that MacKenzie wouldn’t tour the album.

Rankine went out on his own, MacKenzie carried The Associates flag with Perhaps released in 1985. While it has some magnificent moments such as ‘Waiting For the Love Boat’ and ‘Those First Impressions’, it lacks Rankine’s instrumental genius and is for all intents and purposes a MacKenzie solo album.

Sulk, meanwhile, has been reissued several times over the years. As I write this I’m listening to the blue-coloured vinyl version. In 2016 an additional seven tracks were added to the CD version which included ‘18 Carat Love Affair’ and The Supremes’ ‘Love Hangover’ which combined became a medium-level hit in the UK and elsewhere. Most recently there was a special deluxe format with outtakes, Peel sessions, a live gig and even a disk containing five different versions of ‘Party Fears Two’. As The Associates rarely put a foot wrong, there is nothing here that is weak or profligate.