Swansea, Wales’ Pooh Sticks are one of my favorite bands, this despite the fact that they’re not really a band at all. They’re a collaborative enterprise between producer/svengali Steve Gregory and singer and instrumentalist Hue (or Huw) Williams aka, Hue Pooh-Stick, along with some “members” the duo invented (Trudi Tangerine, Paul, Stephanie Bass-Drum, and Alison) out of whole cloth. Together, the Pooh Sticks—with some real life vocal assistance from Amelia Fletcher of Talulah Gosh, Heavenly, etc.—started out as a lo-fi outfit but went power pop big time on 1991’s brilliant The Great White Wonder.
But it’s worth going back to 1988 and their “Alan McGee” EP, both because it’s a lo-fi lark and includes some great numbers besides. On “Alan McGee” Gregory and Williams—who have made a career of appropriating other peoples’ songs, song titles, album titles, you name it, filching whatever they find shiny in rock’s past like so many musical magpies—send up twee pop and its fanatical fans, bands, and producers, but it’s all in good, non-snarky fun.
“Indiepop Ain’t Noise Pollution” is typical, as are the hilarious female fans out to get their paws on Hue that open and close the EP. As for the Alan McGee of the title, he founded Creation Records and the Poptones label, and the winsome “I Know Someone Who Knows Someone Who Knows Alan McGee Quite Well” is the perfect parody of twee Scottish bands looking for a chance to finagle their way into the legendary career maker’s good graces.
Opener “How to Get to Hue Pooh-Stick” is a lark, with a girl talking about how she planned to get to Williams by spending all her money on “this knock ‘em dead wardrobe,” only to trade it all in for an Orange Juice t-shirt and an anorak. Obviously a non-Scot, the word “anorak” totally cracks her up, as she says, “I never heard that before.” Much hilarity and repetition of the word “anorak” ensues, before the girl finally asks, “Can I just say sweatshirt?”
From there the band segues into “Heroes and Villains,” a lo-fi power pop tune with big guitar riffs and a title stolen (guess they thought nobody would notice) straight from The Beach Boys. The melody is transcendently lovely, the chorus divine, and I don’t know who’s singing if it isn’t Amelia Fletcher and some female compatriots. “Indiepop Ain’t Noise Pollution” is a fast-paced and jangly number big on tambourine and shared vocals between Williams and, uh, Fletcher I suppose. “Your smiling face and you know why,” sing Williams and company, “These were the best days of my life.”
“1-2-3 Red Light” is a catchy cover of the hit by sixties’ bubblegum band 1910 Fruitgum Company, and goes by in a rush. Once again the vocals are handled by a bevy of female vocalists, adding mystery to who exactly was at the sessions. The pulsating and echo-heavy “Heart Break” is hilarious, with Williams singing, “I know heart break is just around the corner/Somebody fetch me a doctor” only to be ordered to “take your clothes off,” or “baby, drop your pants.”
“I Know Someone Who Knows Someone Who Knows Alan McGee Quite Well” features Williams singing, “There’s talk of a deal with Creation/With expensive Lenny McKaye production” and “Now that the Smiths have split/I heard he thinks we’re going to be it!” The song ends with Williams saying, at what sounds like but probably isn’t the end of a live show, “We’re the Pooh Sticks and we do acid,” along with some other stuff I can’t make out but is probably pretty funny.
“On Tape” is a classic about a rabid collector who has everything, and who says, “You want it, I’ve got it/I’m talking about everything/I’ve got the Monkees’ Head soundtrack/On tape/On tape.” The guitar riff is infectious as are Williams’ opening lines, “I’ve got ‘Falling and Laughing’ (an Orange Juice tune) “the original postcard version/I’ve got the Pastels’ Songs for Children/Sky Saxon solo albums”—on tape! Along with everything by the Ronettes! And you get the idea.
Closer “Please Hue, Please” is a total crack-up, purporting to be a phone message left by Hue to callers when he’s not at home. With Hendrix playing in the background he says, “Hello this is Hue Pooh-Stick/Sorry I’m not here/Gone down the road to get Jimi Hendrix’s bagel/Just leave your name and number/Especially if you’re a chick,” followed by a beep and then a comically overheated girl who gushes sexily, “Oh Hue you sound so sexy on your machine/I love when you talk rough like that/Oh, you were so masterful last night,” and so on, before concluding, “I’ll do anything you tell me to do” and then breaking into a fit of the giggles.
If you’re looking for some self-serious rock ‘n’ roll, this is not the EP for you. The Pooh Sticks were out for a bit of a larf, and they succeed spectacularly on “Alan McGee.” It’s hard to beat such an infectious demonstration of pure good cheer. “Property is theft” could be their motto, which makes them Marxists, but they lean towards Groucho rather than Karl. They’re having clever good fun and it’s infectious; they’ve looted the pop candy shop because they can, and because, like Redd Kross, to whom they’ve been compared, they absolutely refuse to take their pop music too seriously. As someone who has listened to thousands of sanctimonious sumnumbitches (Patti Smith, ELP, Lou Reed, etc.) try to turn rock into high art, the Pooh Sticks are a breath of fresh air, and I can’t listen to them without smiling.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A
