Pale Fountains

The bounciness of the Pale Fountains went penalized in the days of Echo and the Bunnymen and the Smiths. “Optimism—yuck.” Michael Head’s stylistic hopscotch and wide-eyed sunnyness might have translated better in the late ’90s, had he stuck with that program for his later band, Shack. If the band had set their sights on one or two areas of their record collections for inspiration instead of darn near everything, Pacific Street might not have been so out of place when it was released.

Collected and released when Head was on the verge of a new level of appreciation via Shack, Longshot for Your Love – compiling radio sessions, unreleased tracks, and various other obscurities – made for an appreciative peek back at his early-'80s days with the Pale Fountains. The opening liner notes in the booklet from Yasuharu Konishi of Pizzicato Five are perfectly appropriate. There's a clear sense throughout this enjoyable disc how Head's first outfit provided a bridge between swinging '60s pop and the efforts of a later generation, not merely with Pizzicato Five but Belle & Sebastian or any number of Burt Bacharach-loving acts of the '90s.

Three years after the enervated Here’s Tom with the Weather, Shack return with only their fifth album in an 18-year career. (And that doesn’t even count leader Mick Head’s former band, the Pale Fountains.) The title may name-check Gil Evans and Miles Davis, whose collaborations were the pinnacle of 1950s cool jazz, but On the Corner of Miles and Gil is no more jazz-influenced than any of Head’s previous albums. This is to say, the occasional stray muted trumpet figure or Wes Montgomery-style guitar line floats through these songs, but overall, the late Arthur Lee is a much bigger influence. Love’s trademark commingling of ominous, slightly paranoid lyrics and deceptively pretty melodies has always been Head’s primary starting point, but this album is Shack’s most vital and musically impassioned album in at least a decade.

At first glance, this otherwise grand career-spanner seems frustratingly incomplete: What a logistically fastidious, but regrettable decision to ignore leader Michael Head's lone "solo" LP as Michael Head & the Strands, 1997's incomparable The Magic World of the Strands. All longtime fans know that it is 1) really no different from the other Shack LPs, in style or in personnel since both crucial Head brothers were present, and 2) universally regarded as their best record. And Shack have released only five LPs otherwise over their two decades, one of which, the 1988's debut Zilch, was all but disowned as it's banished from here.

Michael Head, former frontman of the Pale Fountains and current co-leader along with his brother John – who is also a Strand – of Brit pop outfit Shack, turns in a stellar chamber pop performance with Magical World of the Strands. Head, who is no stranger to either classy, baroque pop or neo-psychedelia, has composed an album of gorgeously illustrated songs that are lushly orchestrated by a standard rock quartet augmented by a flutist (Leslie Roberts) and a string quartet. The result is an album that, while little known, is a classic, a masterpiece of modern chamber pop.

The genesis of Waterpistol is one of the most convoluted in all of indie pop, and it's one of the genre's most legendary stories. The album was recorded in 1991, but (shades of Tater Totz's Alien Sleestacks from Brazil) the master tapes were destroyed when the studio caught fire. All was not lost, however, as producer Chris Allison had made a DAT safety copy before he left for an American vacation. Unfortunately, not knowing about the fire, Allison inadvertently left his DAT in his rental car. Amazingly, he was able to track it down with the help of the car rental company, but given that Shack's record company had gone under and the band had split up in the interim, the album didn't come out until the German label Marina Records rescued it in 1995.