Christopher OwensOnce dismissed as a poor man’s Joy Division/Public Image Ltd, Section 25 have proved to be a quietly enduring act.

 
Undoubtedly, the links to Factory have helped foster this affection (being produced by Ian Curtis and Bernard Sumner, respectively) but it has also been a hindrance. One thinks that, had they been on a label like Mute or 4AD, their profile and influence would be much more widespread.

Named after a clause in the Mental Health Act allowing for compulsory detention, Section 25 began in Blackpool in 1978. Quickly forging links with Factory Records, they supported the likes of Talking Heads, The Stranglers, Killing Joke, Joy Division and The Cure on the live circuit.


Regardless, when they entered the studio to record this album, few people were seemingly expecting much from them. Although their debut LP (Always Now) had sold well (and would later have a track sampled by Kanye West), Their previous record, (The Key of Dreams), had been received lukewarmly and the subsequent tour saw guitarist Paul Wiggin fall out with the rest of the band after refusing to fly to the US. This led to a long period where the band re-evaluated the direction their music was going in. After all, if your previous record had been comprised of edited jams, do you carry on in that vein or do you start afresh?

On the evidence of the ‘Back to Wonder/Beating Heart’ 7’ that preceded the album, it was obvious that the answer was the latter. Crucially, the band missed a trick in not releasing the single as a 12’. Why? Because ‘Beating Heart’ made use of that infamous “squelching” sound that would later become a trademark of acid house later on in the decade. History might very well have been changed, with the band regarded as pioneers the same way New Order are. But it was not to be.



Nonetheless, From the Hip managed to continue in this new direction, with great success.

Opening with the hazy, ambient bliss of ‘The Process’ does a perfect job of setting the mood for the rest of the LP. The whispered, questioning vocals from newly recruited Jenny Ross (wife of bassist/vocalist Larry Cassidy) and Angela Flowers (sister of Larry and keyboard player/drummer Vincent Cassidy) inform us that “There's a voice there, inside/You can hear it/Like a pinpoint/As if passing through you/Are you what I think you are/Do you know I'm listening” compliment the floaty, breathy and idyllic music, making the listener envisage being lifted to the top of a mountain by the air, with the synthesized trumpets indicating that the journey is complete. 


Segueing into club favourite ‘Looking from a Hilltop’, the driving, insistent loop, yearning keyboard lines and delicately delivered vocals help distinguish it as one of the finest singles of the 1980’s. The themes of questioning, awareness of nature and self as well as the power that love can have to elate and depress at the same time find their way into the lyrics, all delivered by Ross’ delivery that alternates between robotic and emotional.

Carrying on with these themes, ‘Reflection’ features a primitive sounding, arpeggiated synth background and a pulsating bassline. Ross’s exuberant declarations of “Standing in an empty space/No one here but you/Touching you I'm spinning round…” are contrasted with Cassidy’s simple, but punctuating delivery of the line “It’s not real.” This makes the listener wonder if they’re listening to someone day-dreaming (maybe even dying) and gives the record a sinister undertone that belies the polished, joyous music.


Once described as an “apocalyptic waltz”, ‘Prepare to Live’ tells us that now is the time “A time to taste the fruit/The jewels twinkle in your hand/You stand still and gaze/Almost hypnotised” and that we must embrace the moment because “Clarity is no actor/Fact is you are here/Wanting pictures and flowers…” Once again, the music veers from being cheerful to brooding, creating the idea that a storm is coming.

That arrives on ‘Program for Life’, which is a barrage of 808 drums and sequencers going in and out of sync alongside keyboard lines that plink and plonk to give a finesse to the torrent of drums. Apparently, a favourite with the discerning b-boys for breakdancing back in the day, it manages to sound both dated and timeless. The fact that the instruments go in and out of sync create this feeling of reality ripping apart (complimented by the crashing sound at the very end).

‘Desert’ reinforces this impression. A minimal piano line and a vocal sounding like it was recorded in a vacuum, it feels like the listener is drifting to the bottom of the sea. The lyrics seem to reinforce this: “Pillar to post you drag me/Screaming to be, released/I cannot die, in peace/Oh let me be.” Just as hazy and ambient as ‘The Process’, it nonetheless ups the dread factor.

Closing with the one-two punch of ‘Beneath the Blade’ and ‘Inspiration’, we get a four-note bassline from Larry hammered into the ground (a kind of burial metaphor for their old, bass driven post punk) while it segueways into fluffier, arpeggiated synth lines. The lyrics can be seen to reflect the re-birth of the band, as he sings about the light shining on and a mythical hero taking a step forward. However, closing with the rumble of the 808 bass drum indicates an upcoming battle yet to be fought, ending the LP on a sinister note.



On release, the record was seemingly ignored by the music press, save for a review in Sounds where Dave Henderson (unfairly) remarked that “From the Hip never remotely hints of pulling itself together. It's tortuously programmed, predictable and pretentious. Some of you out there will love it.” Retrospective reviews have been much more positive, with The Wire magazine proclaiming that it “Sounds resolutely modern even now, like the precursor of house and techno…the group's masterpiece", while Mojo described it as a “…massively influential album…” Even Melody Maker (who had ignored it at the time) conceded in 1992 that it “…Unveils the band as a spiked synthetic pop unit of considerable merit.”

Larry’s caustic remarks about how “It got boring after three years with the same guys in raincoats coming to your gigs…You're not as likely to feel suicidal when you hear us now" greatly undersells the album. Forward thinking without ever being obtuse, it deserves to be reappraised in the way that an album like Dazzle Ships by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark has been. I’m still surprised no one has sampled ‘Looking from a Hilltop’ in recent years, as that beat would sound killer on anything from Skepta to Actress or even Lizzo. 

 
As for the band’s influence on acid house, James Nice has written that although:

…it might seem unlikely that audience members in Chicago or Detroit were inspired by Section 25 to further refine house and techno styles, the fact remains that a full year before these sounds reached Europe, an underdog group from Blackpool toured it across most of the major cities in the United States.

One show at the legendary Danceteria was attended by Sasha Frere-Jones, who recalls that:

I…saw Section 25 playing to fledgling B-boys in the downstairs space. I'd never heard drum machines through a PA and had no idea how punishing they could be. I couldn't hear a single word but I couldn't get their weird sound out of my head. The next day I brought the only Section 25 12-inch I could find, ‘Looking from A Hilltop (Megamix)’. Backwards drum machines flew out like sparks, but crazy funky, like someone here had programmed them, not some... some foreigner. The whole thing floated in the fjord between the icy Factory scene in England and up-tempo NYC edit tracks by Big Apple Productions and The Latin Rascals. Charging and droning, Hilltop blowing my tiny mind.

Unsurprisingly, Section 25 would fall apart after this tour. Reduced to Larry and Jenny, their next record would sit on Factory’s shelves for two years, before being released to universal indifference in 1988. This led to the couple putting the band on ice until 2001, although Jenny’s death in 2004 put the brakes on matters for a while. Well received shows (headlining and supporting New Order) would eventually lead to new recordings, which meant that even Larry’s death in 2010 couldn’t stop the group, who continue to this day.

Although none of this would be possible without From the Hip.

Not bad for a bunch of so called “Joy Division/Public Image Ltd copyists.”

⏩ Christopher Owens was a reviewer for Metal Ireland and finds time to study the history and inherent contradictions of Ireland. He is currently the TPQ Friday columnist. 

From the Vaults ➖ Section 25 ‘From the Hip’

Christopher OwensOnce dismissed as a poor man’s Joy Division/Public Image Ltd, Section 25 have proved to be a quietly enduring act.

 
Undoubtedly, the links to Factory have helped foster this affection (being produced by Ian Curtis and Bernard Sumner, respectively) but it has also been a hindrance. One thinks that, had they been on a label like Mute or 4AD, their profile and influence would be much more widespread.

Named after a clause in the Mental Health Act allowing for compulsory detention, Section 25 began in Blackpool in 1978. Quickly forging links with Factory Records, they supported the likes of Talking Heads, The Stranglers, Killing Joke, Joy Division and The Cure on the live circuit.


Regardless, when they entered the studio to record this album, few people were seemingly expecting much from them. Although their debut LP (Always Now) had sold well (and would later have a track sampled by Kanye West), Their previous record, (The Key of Dreams), had been received lukewarmly and the subsequent tour saw guitarist Paul Wiggin fall out with the rest of the band after refusing to fly to the US. This led to a long period where the band re-evaluated the direction their music was going in. After all, if your previous record had been comprised of edited jams, do you carry on in that vein or do you start afresh?

On the evidence of the ‘Back to Wonder/Beating Heart’ 7’ that preceded the album, it was obvious that the answer was the latter. Crucially, the band missed a trick in not releasing the single as a 12’. Why? Because ‘Beating Heart’ made use of that infamous “squelching” sound that would later become a trademark of acid house later on in the decade. History might very well have been changed, with the band regarded as pioneers the same way New Order are. But it was not to be.



Nonetheless, From the Hip managed to continue in this new direction, with great success.

Opening with the hazy, ambient bliss of ‘The Process’ does a perfect job of setting the mood for the rest of the LP. The whispered, questioning vocals from newly recruited Jenny Ross (wife of bassist/vocalist Larry Cassidy) and Angela Flowers (sister of Larry and keyboard player/drummer Vincent Cassidy) inform us that “There's a voice there, inside/You can hear it/Like a pinpoint/As if passing through you/Are you what I think you are/Do you know I'm listening” compliment the floaty, breathy and idyllic music, making the listener envisage being lifted to the top of a mountain by the air, with the synthesized trumpets indicating that the journey is complete. 


Segueing into club favourite ‘Looking from a Hilltop’, the driving, insistent loop, yearning keyboard lines and delicately delivered vocals help distinguish it as one of the finest singles of the 1980’s. The themes of questioning, awareness of nature and self as well as the power that love can have to elate and depress at the same time find their way into the lyrics, all delivered by Ross’ delivery that alternates between robotic and emotional.

Carrying on with these themes, ‘Reflection’ features a primitive sounding, arpeggiated synth background and a pulsating bassline. Ross’s exuberant declarations of “Standing in an empty space/No one here but you/Touching you I'm spinning round…” are contrasted with Cassidy’s simple, but punctuating delivery of the line “It’s not real.” This makes the listener wonder if they’re listening to someone day-dreaming (maybe even dying) and gives the record a sinister undertone that belies the polished, joyous music.


Once described as an “apocalyptic waltz”, ‘Prepare to Live’ tells us that now is the time “A time to taste the fruit/The jewels twinkle in your hand/You stand still and gaze/Almost hypnotised” and that we must embrace the moment because “Clarity is no actor/Fact is you are here/Wanting pictures and flowers…” Once again, the music veers from being cheerful to brooding, creating the idea that a storm is coming.

That arrives on ‘Program for Life’, which is a barrage of 808 drums and sequencers going in and out of sync alongside keyboard lines that plink and plonk to give a finesse to the torrent of drums. Apparently, a favourite with the discerning b-boys for breakdancing back in the day, it manages to sound both dated and timeless. The fact that the instruments go in and out of sync create this feeling of reality ripping apart (complimented by the crashing sound at the very end).

‘Desert’ reinforces this impression. A minimal piano line and a vocal sounding like it was recorded in a vacuum, it feels like the listener is drifting to the bottom of the sea. The lyrics seem to reinforce this: “Pillar to post you drag me/Screaming to be, released/I cannot die, in peace/Oh let me be.” Just as hazy and ambient as ‘The Process’, it nonetheless ups the dread factor.

Closing with the one-two punch of ‘Beneath the Blade’ and ‘Inspiration’, we get a four-note bassline from Larry hammered into the ground (a kind of burial metaphor for their old, bass driven post punk) while it segueways into fluffier, arpeggiated synth lines. The lyrics can be seen to reflect the re-birth of the band, as he sings about the light shining on and a mythical hero taking a step forward. However, closing with the rumble of the 808 bass drum indicates an upcoming battle yet to be fought, ending the LP on a sinister note.



On release, the record was seemingly ignored by the music press, save for a review in Sounds where Dave Henderson (unfairly) remarked that “From the Hip never remotely hints of pulling itself together. It's tortuously programmed, predictable and pretentious. Some of you out there will love it.” Retrospective reviews have been much more positive, with The Wire magazine proclaiming that it “Sounds resolutely modern even now, like the precursor of house and techno…the group's masterpiece", while Mojo described it as a “…massively influential album…” Even Melody Maker (who had ignored it at the time) conceded in 1992 that it “…Unveils the band as a spiked synthetic pop unit of considerable merit.”

Larry’s caustic remarks about how “It got boring after three years with the same guys in raincoats coming to your gigs…You're not as likely to feel suicidal when you hear us now" greatly undersells the album. Forward thinking without ever being obtuse, it deserves to be reappraised in the way that an album like Dazzle Ships by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark has been. I’m still surprised no one has sampled ‘Looking from a Hilltop’ in recent years, as that beat would sound killer on anything from Skepta to Actress or even Lizzo. 

 
As for the band’s influence on acid house, James Nice has written that although:

…it might seem unlikely that audience members in Chicago or Detroit were inspired by Section 25 to further refine house and techno styles, the fact remains that a full year before these sounds reached Europe, an underdog group from Blackpool toured it across most of the major cities in the United States.

One show at the legendary Danceteria was attended by Sasha Frere-Jones, who recalls that:

I…saw Section 25 playing to fledgling B-boys in the downstairs space. I'd never heard drum machines through a PA and had no idea how punishing they could be. I couldn't hear a single word but I couldn't get their weird sound out of my head. The next day I brought the only Section 25 12-inch I could find, ‘Looking from A Hilltop (Megamix)’. Backwards drum machines flew out like sparks, but crazy funky, like someone here had programmed them, not some... some foreigner. The whole thing floated in the fjord between the icy Factory scene in England and up-tempo NYC edit tracks by Big Apple Productions and The Latin Rascals. Charging and droning, Hilltop blowing my tiny mind.

Unsurprisingly, Section 25 would fall apart after this tour. Reduced to Larry and Jenny, their next record would sit on Factory’s shelves for two years, before being released to universal indifference in 1988. This led to the couple putting the band on ice until 2001, although Jenny’s death in 2004 put the brakes on matters for a while. Well received shows (headlining and supporting New Order) would eventually lead to new recordings, which meant that even Larry’s death in 2010 couldn’t stop the group, who continue to this day.

Although none of this would be possible without From the Hip.

Not bad for a bunch of so called “Joy Division/Public Image Ltd copyists.”

⏩ Christopher Owens was a reviewer for Metal Ireland and finds time to study the history and inherent contradictions of Ireland. He is currently the TPQ Friday columnist. 

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