CHR-007: Parallax Pier

Two years ago, when Kayli was staying at the Parallax Room, I put together this little mix in the spirit of the moment. Summer was dawning, the heat was rising and the palms was swaying, so the time seemed right for a little Compass Point action. Parallax Pier was born, and it became the seventh Cheap Hotel release, seeming as it did to flow naturally from The Clash At The Edge Of Forever compilation. I was all set to upload this mix way back in December but there seemed to be something wrong with the idea of putting such sunny music out there in the dead of winter! This is summertime music, pure and simple, post-disco music with gulf stream tendencies (linking New York to the Caribbean, the Black Ark to the Paradise Garage). This is music born from the place where the ocean meets the shore, hence the compilation's central theme.

Over the last decade or so, there's been lots of ink spilled on the yacht phenomenon - put crudely, canyon folk and jazz artists getting down with a light disco groove in the mid-seventies onward (see Crosby, Stills & Nash's Dark Star, Pablo Cruise's Love Will Find A Way, Steely Dan's Hey Nineteen, etc.). There's even a yacht cover band making the rounds locally! Of course there's loads of great music that's been mined from this seam, but the sound I'm discussing at the moment is a very different phenomenon.

If yacht is muted pastel shades, sports jackets and boat shoes (think Carly Simon at Martha's Vineyard), this music is all vibrant colors, Hawaiian shirts and worn sneakers (inna Club Paradise stylee). This is the sound of post punk new wave going to the beach, the vibes and production techniques of Jamaican dub and Afrobeat creeping their way into the pop charts, the post-disco wave breaking on the shore and pulling back into the sunset to reveal all manner of ocean life dancing in the sand. This compilation captures this very select strain of tropical boogie that just so happens to encompass some of the greatest music of its era. Its spiritual home was Compass Point Studios in the Bahamas and on the dancefloor at the Paradise Garage, and its spectre lived on in the output of leftfield house labels like Nu Groove, Warriors Dance and Jumpin' & Pumpin'.

Slye and I have mixed the original compilation into a non-stop excursion through the coastal vibrations of the Parallax Pier. Apologies for a few of the more ramshackle transitions... please bear in mind that the original compilation's sequencing was planned without the mix in mind! Simply click the play button below to listen...

... and we're off!


  1. Burning Sensations Belly Of The Whale (Capitol, 1983)
  2. Pushing off with this slab of calypso-inflected new wave from LA, we find that the Parallax Pier is not a million miles removed from Club Paradise. Discovered this only recently thanks to a Pops-initiated endeavor in which we were scouring the 91x Top 91 songs by year, looking for forgotten gems that he'd dug back in the day. At first you think it's just another zany new wave trifle but then that gorgeous climax hits you like a wave crashing on the shore. Apparently lead singer Tim McGovern re-recorded the song very recently, which is available for download...

  3. Eddy Grant Electric Avenue (ICE, 1982)
  4. Surely everyone knows Eddy Grant's electro-tinged post-disco evergreen? Gloriously warped sonix prevail and yet that beat is locked down inna grid Devo-stylee. I've long had a fascination with Grant and his whole ICE setup, the Coach House Rhythm Section, Time Warp and so on. His records predict the spirit of Compass Point more explicitly than just about anything else I can think of (with certain exceptions to follow!).

    The original plan was to include Walking On Sunshine - the opening track to his 1978 album of the same name (which also features the excellent Living On The Frontline/The Frontline Symphony suite) - instead, but ultimately figured that Electric Avenue's production was a tighter fit with the rest of the music here. Still, it's something to consider for the inevitable second volume...

  5. Cloud One Flying High (Heavenly Star, 1982)
  6. Crisp, immaculately arranged electronic post-disco action from the great Patrick Adams and Peter Brown. Five years on from Atmosphere Strut, this takes that record's gaussian-blurred psychedelia into the eighties with those same trademark synths writhing against an electroid bassline and geometric percussion patterns while an uncredited vocalist intones the title over and over and over. I've always wanted a copy of Don't Let This Rainbow Pass Me By - the midpoint between both records - but have yet to come across it in the field.

    I'm often intrigued by Brown's Heavenly Star imprint, which dealt not only in excellent post-disco boogie but also the sounds of early hip hop. Catching my eye as I was thumbing through Freddy Fresh's The Rap Records1 some time ago, I only recently noticed that the label put out a remix 12" of Spoonie Gee's Spoonie Rap, my absolute favorite first-wave seventies rap record.

  7. The Police Voices Inside My Head (A&M, 1980)
  8. Big chant! Sting echoes the track's title (and not much more) over his own twisting bassline while Andy Sumners cloaks everything in chiming guitars, Stewart Copeland holding everything down with his inimitable presence behind the drum kit. This was big on dancefloors of the era (along with the Common Sense cover version), indeed its gulf stream vibes seem to epitomize the sort of freewheeling exotic moods and grooves you might find at the Paradise Garage at the time. The track's durable rhythm managed to weave itself into the very fabric of post-disco music in the ensuing years, from hip hop (Chill Rob G) to house (KC Flightt) and even r&b (702 featuring Missy "Misdemeanor" Elliott).

  9. Grace Jones Pull Up To The Bumper (Island, 1981)
  10. The Compass Point All Stars are all over Grace Jones' Island trilogy. This peerlessly engineered rubberband post-punk disco is from Nightclubbing, the second record in the trilogy and a documented Parallax favorite. I've gone on at great length about the Compass Point All Stars before - what I really ought to do is gather all of this content into a feature - but suffice it to say that they are the The Funk Brothers of this whole sound (that is, the key element in this story).

    Only recently discovered the ultra-vibey music video, featuring a be-suited Jones doing her thing as Blade Runner-esque cityscapes cycle past in the background. Needless to say, Ms. Jones is a thoroughly fascinating character. I've been looking forward to reading her recently-published autobiography, I'll Never Write My Memoirs, as soon as I get my hands on it.

  11. Madonna La Isla Bonita (Sire, 1986)
  12. Along with the Jellybean Benitez-helmed Holiday and Into The Groove, my favorite Madonna tune. Maybe the first hint of her later direction, heralded by the conceptual Like A Prayer LP, which marked her out as a permanent institution in the pop marketplace. The production maybe not quite as fabulous as its surroundings here, it's nevertheless a sumptuous, wistful reverie.

  13. Nu Shooz I Can't Wait (Atlantic, 1986)
  14. Killer electro pop. I remember loving this one at the time - it dropped not long before my second trip to Puerto Rico as a kid - and I'll forever associate it with what was a very special time in my life. Nu Shooz were a husband/wife duo from Portland, Oregon. Nevertheless, they managed to capture perfectly the hot fun in the summertime atmosphere: palm trees swaying in the breeze as seagulls circle above, swimming pool reflections dancing off every surface (appropriately, the album is titled Poolside) as the sun settles on the horizon.

  15. Big Audio Dynamite A Party (Columbia, 1985)
  16. More dawn of sampling bizzness from Mick Jones and co. Curiously in thrall to the nascent digital dancehall. I've always loved the drum sound throughout this album, but especially in both the electroid Sudden Impact! and this track, which are from it's under-explored second side (all the hits are from the first). Especially cool how Jones chants the lyrics for the first 3/4 of the song's running time before Don Letts drops in to reiterate the selfsame story in rapid-fire ragga chat, squeezing it all into the last fourth before Leo Williams emerges with the baritone response.

    Note the presence of Paul "Groucho" Smykle behind the boards, in the midst of his excellent eighties run engineering everything from reggae slates like Gregory Isaacs' Night Nurse (Discomix) and Derrick Harriott's Dub Whip to the post punk disco three-way of Jah Wobble/The Edge/Holger Czukay's Snake Charmer 12", a killer remix of Ja Funmi by juju icon King Sunny Adé and Wally Badarou's sterling mid-eighties work.

  17. Wally Badarou Chief Inspector (4th & Broadway, 1984)
  18. Case in point this sublime bit of low key, rolling synth-boogie. Just casually brilliant post-disco magic brought to you by Compass Point's key(board) man, taken from his excellent Echoes LP (which also features Mambo, the basis for Massive Attack's Daydreaming. The 12" version - which I reckon is one of the key records of the decade - is even better (but runs just a bit too long for the purposes of this compilation), featuring Groucho himself behind the boards yet again.

  19. Gwen Guthrie Padlock (Garage, 1983)
  20. More Compass Point magic from post-disco chanteuse Gwen Guthrie, this EP of the same name came out on Garage Records (Larry Levan's label associated with the Paradise Garage) alongside N.Y.C. Peech Boys and the Black Mamba record. Levan stretches out five of Guthrie's tracks and dubs them to abstraction, Gwen's voice resplendent throughout, inhabiting her environment like a queen in a crystal palace. One of the great kiss-off tracks, I always love it when Gwen sings You blew it, you blew it, you blew it! just before the chorus hits.

  21. Tom Tom Club Under The Boardwalk (Island, 1981)
  22. With Tina on holiday from the Talking Heads, the Weymouth sisters - with Chris Frantz in tow - get down at Compass Point with the All Stars and turn out one of the great girl group records of the era2 (the self-titled debut). This single, a cover of The Drifters' perennial favorite, followed hot on its heels and wrought the same magic from all parties involved.

  23. Billy Idol Congo Man (Chrysalis, 1982)
  24. Offbeat coda to the original version of Billy Idol's solo debut, which was replaced by Generation X's Dancing With Myself for the US release. Maybe not as earth-shattering as that hit new wave record, but with Idol chanting nonsense over a dubbed-out conga rhythm for about a minute - bringing to mind Iggy Pop's awesome Jungle Man - it's certainly a strange bit of something special.

  25. The English Beat Ackee 1 2 3 (Go-Feet, 1982)
  26. The group's debut, I Just Can't Stop It, was so exceedingly brilliant that their follow up albums couldn't help but pale in comparison. This track, however - from their swansong Special Beat Service - is the equal of anything on the debut, seemingly drawing from soca, highlife and South African jive to work up an utterly infectious slice of new wave dance pop. A great song to dance to.

  27. Orchestra Makassy Mambo Bado (Virgin, 1982)
  28. Sparkling soukous from Tanzania. From their excellent Agwaya LP, which was among the first African records that I ever owned. The band shifts and turns like clockwork over a wonderful 4/4 pulse, liquid bass propelling from within and driving the whole thing relentlessly forward. Apparently this track also had a 12" release at the time. Band leader Remmy Ongala went on to have a solo career later in the decade, hooking up with Real World for a couple albums.

  29. Haircut One Hundred Favourite Shirts (Boy Meets Girl) (Arista, 1982)
  30. This was another one that came to light in the Pops-helmed excavation of 91x's old yearly charts. I'd always heard the name and assumed they were synth pop in the vein of Heaven 17, rather than the glittering indie-pop contemporaries of Aztec Camera and Orange Juice that they turned out to be. I djed and my old room mate's wedding a few years back and when my set was over I threw this album on and everyone jumped into the hotel pool, still dressed to the nines. It's A Wonderful Life at The Pearl!

  31. Third World Now That We Found Love (Island, 1978)
  32. Incredibly lush and verdant disco-inflected reggae. Like much of Eddy Grant's seventies output, this sounds just preposterously, stupidly ahead of its time. If you played this for me in the late-nineties, I would have guessed it had come out something like five years earlier in the decade. Of course, it's from 1978. A shimmering reggae cover version of The O'Jays' standard, stretched out to nearly eight minutes, its pulsing 4/4 beat and liquid organ-tinged groove is effortlessly propulsive.

  33. Crashers Flight To Jamaica (Cool Runings) (Capo Disco, 1981)
  34. Bringing it all back home is Crashers' island-tinged post-disco chestnut Flight To Jamaica (Cool Runings). Like nearly everything else here, that central groove is just exquisite, rolling along at a lazy mid-tempo as the uncredited vocalists moonwalk across its surface with their soaring refrain. Those sun-glazed ARP strings and shimmering melodica stylings are just the icing on the cake. Features the immortal line, I'm so cool, I'm about to... freeze! Which, come to think of it, just about sums up this whole affair to a T...


With all apologies to the artists that were ultimately excluded, not due to quality but CD running time constraints and the very particular vibe that coalesced around the selection:
Thomas Leer, Dinosaur L, Billy Ocean, Sheila E., Rockers Revenge, Affinity, Ian Dury, Talking Heads, Liquid Liquid, FSOL, Sam Mangwana, Happy Mondays, King Sunny Adé & His African Beats, Open House, Joe Gibbs, Men At Work, Bobby Konders, Ashford & Simpson, Bang The Party, Lola, The Clash, Central Line, No Smoke & The Mali Singers, Carlton, Arthur Russell, Marianne Faithfull, Robert Palmer, Lizzy Mercier Descloux and The Teardrop Explodes.
Some of which will most likely be making an appearance when the inevitable Volume Two rolls around...

1. Freddy Fresh, The Rap Records (1st Edition) (Howlin', 2004), 97.
2. No mean feat, considering the likes of the Bangles, the Go-Go's, Klymaxx, The Pointer Sisters, Bananarama, the Mary Jane Girls, Vanity 6, ESG and The Slits were all plying their trade around the same time.

Click Click (Chrome .45)

I've already gone on record about The English Beat's debut album, I Just Can't Stop It, ensconced as it comfortably in The Parallax 100. It's an LP that I have no qualms about calling one of the great pop records of all time, right up there with The Beatles. This is a band that I grew up on in the eighties, with splinter groups like General Public, Fine Young Cannibals and the Ranking Roger solo records peppering my listening habits through the nineties well into the present day. Even when I was plumbing the depths of electronic music, subsisting on a strict diet of beats and beats alone, the 2 Men A Drum Machine And A Trumpet 12" (with that crucial Derrick May remix on the flip) was never far from the turntable.

Last Saturday found Sari and I cruising up the 5 as the sun settled on the horizon, a special English Beat mix (that I'd made earlier that week as a sort of primer) pulsing out the soundsystem, just the two of us heading up the coast to catch The Beat live at The Belly Up Tavern. On arrival in Solana Beach, just as dusk began to fall, we pulled into a Mexican joint down the street from the venue in order to hook up with Kayli and LeValley and grab a bite to eat.

A half hour later we walked through the doors of The Belly Up, where the opening DJ was spinning a selection of reggae cuts to nice up the dance. Tunes like Horace Andy's I Feel Good All Over and Dandy Livingstone's Rudy, A Message To You (foundational sixties ska later covered by The Specials) filled the room and made it clear that this was the perfect venue for this music. The Belly Up is like some fantasy collision of all the best Pablo Cruise record sleeves and those gorgeous sets from Robert Altman's Popeye motion picture (speaking of Altman, the first show that I caught at the Belly Up was King Sunny Adé & His African Beats some years back). Neon lights illuminate the building's vaulted celings, exposed rafters stretch out rustic and warm over a loose assortment of rooms centered around the main stage. Put simply, it's like the nightclub in Club Paradise. We made our way through the main room, grabbing some drinks along the way, and found a spot more or less at the center of the room where we waited for the opening act to take the stage.

I hadn't yet heard Viernes 13 before the band began to play, but was instantly won over by their blazing ska moves that seemed to recall nothing so much as Sublime's Paddle Out shot through a Chicano prism (think Once Upon A Time In Mexico as much as Los Lobos), sounding like Byron Lee & The Dragonaires' Frankenstein Ska if it were played by The Plugz circa the Repo Man soundtrack. It was all incredibly vibey, and very L.A.

I ducked into the back where their people had set up a merchandise table and grabbed a shirt immediately - taking note of the CDs for sale - and threw it on over the shirt I was already wearing. Consider me a fan! I later grabbed both of their CDs on my way out - you don't want to have to keep track of media on the dancefloor - and the man was even nice enough to throw a split EP into the deal. I've been rocking all three this week. I couldn't find an image of the shirt I bought (there were three to choose from) anywhere on the net, so I snapped a picture here. I thought it was a really lovely design:

I'd like to return to this crew in the near future, once I've fully absorbed their records and lived with their music awhile, as I think they're truly on to something special here. In the meantime, Viernes 13 will be back in San Diego on Friday, May 29th, playing at The Hideout, so you know where I'll be. Don't sleep!

This show brought back memories of going to ska parties back in the late nineties, when a friend's older brother was in a band (the name of which escapes me at the moment). Our crew would be chilling in the back, fish out of water more in tune with breakbeats and 303s than the sort of sounds taking place on stage, but it was a lot of fun nonetheless. Come to think of it, another friend of mine was actually in that same band as well, and he was heavy into third wave ska and the swing revival. I remember one time we bonded over a mutual love for Artie Shaw, Duke Ellington and the OG two-tone bands.

Which brings us to The English Beat. Dave Wakeling is the only original member in the current touring lineup of the group (hasn't he lived in Southern California since the late nineties?), so I was curious how they would sound in the 21st century. Certain questions were running through my mind in the weeks leading up to the show. Who would be toasting Ranking Roger's parts? Would they play any General Public material? How would the new drummer handle Everett Morton's phenomenal work on the original records (the debut LP has some of my favorite drumming ever)? Would it all be too much to live up to?

After the MC hyped and teased the crowd for the better part of an hour, The Beat took the stage, opening with Rough Rider, and any doubts I may have had just drifted off into the ether on the back of its mellow, churning groove. This is one of my favorite moments from one of my favorite albums of all time, so hearing it live in good form was a bit of a rush. The band was tight and seemed to be having a blast while King Schascha strut his way around the stage, toasting on the mic in fine style.

Twist & Crawl was a definite highlight, submerging the club deep into the darkness after opening with some of the group's brightest numbers. New drummer Nucci Cantrell turned in solid work on the kit, even slipping into a breakbeat from time to time. The drumming wasn't quite as meticulous as Everett Morton's clockwork precision (the very foundation of the twisting rhythmic engine deep within the heart of The Beat), but it was no slouch either (and keep in mind that I'm comparing him to one of my favorite drummers of all time here), providing ample propulsion for the band's infectious loose-limbed riddims.

Needless to say, we danced like maniacs throughout the whole show. They even lit up the disco ball for I Confess and Too Nice To Talk To! I was surprised that they didn't play Doors Of Your Heart (in fact, nothing at all from Wha'ppen), but the songs from Special Beat Service were some of the biggest moments of the night. Save It For Later got a huge response from the crowd, while Ackee 1 2 3 might have been my favorite tune of the evening, its off-kilter (and seemingly sped-up) rhythms super fun to dance to (their label wasn't called Go-Feet for nothing)!

I'd somehow never noticed before that Soul Salvation seems to be the blueprint for large swathes of the Fine Young Cannibals sound. On the other hand, I've often wondered whether Steele and Cox were listening closely to Elvis Costello's Get Happy when mapping out their new group's trajectory. Maybe it's just the similar approach of new wave cats tackling Northern soul, who knows? At any rate, the other group to come out of The English Beat's breakup, General Public, got checked not once but twice. Early on in the show, The Beat did a rendition of The Staple Singers' I'll Take You There, which was covered by the newly reformed (at the time) GP for the Threesome soundtrack. Later, toward the end of the show, the band broke into Tenderness to a rapturous response from the crowd.

Dave even took lead vocals for Ranking Full Stop, and I could have imagined this, but I thought I saw him shake his head when he sang my name is ranking full stop. That was funny. I almost wasn't expecting the band to play that one, but it came off really well... before they slipped seamlessly into Mirror In The Bathroom! It was a serious double-take moment and definitely the climax of the whole night as that deep, chugging bassline seemed to cause the whole room to sink into the floor, dancing figures etched in neon as the band played on and on.