

A ‘pop’ band who played ‘psychedelia’.ĭespite their ever-increasing popularity (through digital word-of-mouth, YouTube and blogs, etc), Cardiacs have been the recipients of some very strong criticism. As Tim Smith has always maintained: Cardiacs were never punk or prog (or ‘pronk’) – they had always been a ‘pop’ band.

Championed by Radio DJ Gary Davies and being voted as ‘best newcomers’ in a SMASH HITS poll was a testament to actually how enjoyable and accessible the band could be once you scratched the unsettling and ridiculous surface. Their Single ‘Is This The Life’ actually entered the charts in 1988, meaning that an innocent public could glimpse (on TV) this very disturbing collective. You see, there was ‘something’ in the music that was palpably disturbing – so why not, through osmosis, had this element not contaminated their lives? (This was years before Jake and Meg White tried their similar tack.)Įven stranger than the accusations of incest was the never-before-considered-prospect of them selling-out. You could almost have believed the rumours. Metaphysical, existential anguish? Something to do with clowns?Īlthough they were very much industry outsiders, The Sunday Sport – in 1987 –ran a piece on how Tim and Sarah Smith were actually brother and sister…which made the French-kissing and groping on stage seem somewhat suspect. It all seemed to ‘mean’ something, but I couldn’t exactly grasp what. It was childish, psychotic, thrilling and unlike any other gig I’d ever attended. This would all happen to a euphoric sweep of saxophone and keyboards that wouldn’t seem out of place in a 70s cigar advert. At the conclusion to the night, a well-dressed man and his female assistant would come on stage with champagne and flowers.

Their hardcore fans, with their automated, jerky style of dancing would become a strange tableau to behold – turning the moshpit into a sweltering sea of something-near-to-performance art. Their audience (hippies, punks, misfits and students) would plead with their lead singer not to hit unsmiling bassist Jim Smith (because he was “fat and was to die soon anyway”). Back then, they dressed in shabby lift attendant costumes (with badly-applied clown make-up), were incredibly rehearsed and tight, and starred in what seemed like their own therapeutic, surrealist pantomime. As have Radio’s Marc Riley, Napalm Death and, according to rumour, ‘Phil Mitchell’ from Eastenders.ĭespite impressive line-up changes, their most celebrated squad was the one from mid-late 80s. Writers Cathi Unsworth and Steve Aylett have confessed a predilection for them. Faith No More and Supergrass have also gone on record to acknowledge the Cardiacs’ muse.
#Cardiacs jibber full#
Famously, Radiohead and Blur’s respective OK Computer and Modern Life Is Rubbish are full of melodic nods and discordant winks to the trademark sound of Cardiacs. However, a few notable bands have ended up sounding quite like them. It’s a musically bewildering and perplexing cut of cloth, interweaving colours and textures that many would consider unthinkable put together.ĭespite the influences they have worn so clearly on their sleeves, they are like no other band on earth.
#Cardiacs jibber series#
It’s not too hard to understand why Cardiacs provoke such reactions in people.įor starters, we have the fairground tease of the keyboards, the spoilt-boy schizophrenia of Tim Smith’s vocals, sing-song choruses as if from a football match or nursery rhyme and the fact that some songs stop then start, stop-start, and so on – in a series of differing time signatures. Suffice to say, I went through an intense period of unpopularity, and was later banned from playing my music in other people’s houses or cars (including my own). A play-list that I tortured my friends with. The letter served as a syllabus, essentially, for years of future listening. Influences cited were Van Der Graaf Generator, Deaf School, Wire, Gentle Giant, Y Alberto Y Lost Trios Paranoias, and others. The responding letter, now lost, was from the saxophone player Sarah Smith – and in it she extensively explained how the unhinged sound of the Cardiacs came to be. The last time I received any correspondence from the group was 1986, when I wrote to the band asking them what their influences were. Hailing from Kingston upon Thames in Surrey, the Cardiacs could easily have come from outer space – so different were they to anybody else. It got me thinking about the band and what made them previously tick. (The irony did not go unnoticed.) Also distressing was the accompanying news that Cardiacs would not be playing for a long time.

You might have heard the terribly sad news that Tim Smith, founder of Cardiacs, suffered a serious heart attack at a My Bloody Valentine concert not so long ago.
