Television Personalities – ‘Mummy You’re Not Watching Me’
TELEVISION PERSONALITIES
… AND DON’T THE KIDS JUST LOVE IT MUMMY YOU’RE NOT WATCHING ME
THE PAINTED WORD FIRE
Another band celebrating their jubilee so now seems as good a time as any for Fire to reissue the TVPs first three albums. The Television Personalities have always been the vehicle for the enigmatic, bizarre and quintessentially English Dan Treacy. By English, think Ray Davies, Screaming Lord Sutch, Andy Partridge, Paul Weller and David Hockney. Periodically an artist will appear with a unique slant on what it means (or doesn’t mean) to be a part (or apart) of society. Their interpretation will provide a genesis of ideas for the architects of future creativity. Dan Treacy was one such figure. Influenced by the D.I.Y. ethic, self-releasing his debut single at just 18, starting his own label to help other bands, promoting non-profit making gigs, encouraging the zine culture and being probably the biggest single influence on the C86 movement.
So to the albums. ‘…And Don’t The Kids Just Love It’, their 1980 debut, has recurring themes of teen angst, of love lost and of solitude, but it’s not all gloom, ‘Geoffrey Ingram’ shows respect to the local face whilst ‘Silly Girl’, is a pure pop song about the local eccentric that only Dan understands and admires. The 60s influence is apparent in the art that draws heavily from Pop-Art and in song titles such as ‘Look Back In Anger’ and ‘I Know Where Syd Barrett Lives’. Music for mods this is not, music for indie-popsters it is.
‘Mummy You’re Not Watching Me’ recorded a year later in 1981 continues where the previous album left off. If anything the 60s fixation had become stronger in tracks such as ‘Lichenstein Painting’ and the artwork is once again a Pop-Art pastiche. It’s lyrically bleaker and the production is starker. It is no surprise that no singles were taken from it. It feels like an incomplete work, of an artist struggling to achieve what he believes he can.
Recorded during 1982 and 1983 ‘The Painted Word’ is the album that Dan was striving to achieve. Gone is the 60s art, the sleeve is a black and white solemn band photo which sets the tone for the album. The influence of LSD and tranquilisers is everywhere. The songs are as dark and potent as any Leonard Cohen or Tom Waits composition, yet by this time Dan had defined his own unique style of poetic story telling.
That some of these songs could have been poems is further testament to Dan’s talent. It’s un-easy listening, but well worth the endeavour. No other album from that era portrays the hurt and humour of emotion and no other writer displays his inner turmoil as starkly as Dan Treacy. A truly essential work. 8/10
Evol Knevol