Review Summary: C86 - II
bIG*fLAME’s “Sink” opens with a dictum so detached and anarchic, it leaves little to wonder about the trio’s aims. ‘Goddamit, a revelation!’ mutters Alan Brown over a spiky riff, as the song takes off into a mutant disco shamble. All of the calling cards of C86 sit front and center. An economic breakdown, relentlessly pliant bass, oddly earnest-sounding cute La-la-la’s slicing through lyrics that otherwise sit snug in the disengaged anger of a Manchester kid who’s only tangible goal in life is to not die of black lung.
Sink was the band’s first outing, a DIY release, less than a year removed from them jumping on the Ron Johnson roster, only the second act on a label that just a year later would come to define the C86 sound, pressing the first, the best and often the only product of indie giants and Peel darlings like Stump, the Shrubs and A Witness.
Even by Ron Johnson’s skewed standards, bIG*fLAME were something of a force, carving out short lean songs that packed a lot of avant-garde punch. Whether deliberately or not, these angular, careening little gems, full of odd turns and barbed rhythms set down the blueprints of how indie punk would sound for generations, all the way to this day. You can feel that wild unhinged sway in everything from Pavement’s first singles to even the jerky spasms of early screamo bands like Saetia.
Like most of their peers in the first wave of C86, bIG*fLAME had an accelerated expiration date, springing forth and dying out in four years-time. And in a king-shit of post-ironic twists, two of them are now architects.
