High on the list of unlikely reunions is The Pop Group. Known for boundary smashing fierceness shortening their initial existence while simultaneously enshrining them as one of the defining outfits of the post-punk-era, they were also rigorously ideological and by extension highly divisive. Therefore, any recommencement of activity would require continued commitment to prior ideals while displaying favorable musical growth in line with past accomplishments; Citizen Zombie, out now on LP/CD/digital, does a surprisingly good job.
Formed in Bristol UK in 1977, three founding members of The Pop Group are involved in this return to active business; vocalist Mark Stewart, drummer Bruce Smith, and guitarist Gareth Sager, the trio joined by longtime cohort Dan Catsis, who replaced Simon Underwood on bass in ’79. Amongst the first and most vociferous in critiquing the squandered possibilities of the punk uprising, they looked upon the Ramones/Pistols model not as the realization of a goal but as a springboard for a diligent and cross-stylistic approach married to lyrics, spoken words, and song titles of an unapologetically leftist bent.
It’s difficult enough for traditionally-inclined bands to pick up the pieces and rebuild an engine long dormant; the situation grows increasingly problematic when substantial ground was broken. Then again, maybe these observations are simply off target, the impulse to reunite deserving to be considered on an individual basis and minus the burden of living up to history. After all, The Pop Group rekindled for live shows roughly half a decade ago; had the gigs went dismally, it’s doubtful Citizen Zombie would’ve been made.
35 years have passed since For How Much Longer Do We Tolerate Mass Murder? emerged on Rough Trade, and a huge aspect of the unit’s standing as groundbreakers, specifically the manic absorption of punk, dub, funk, free jazz, Afrobeat, and avant-experimentation, has become, if not the norm, than perfectly acceptable and not unusual; in fact, contemporaneously specializing in a style utilizing one hyphen or less actually courts being belittled as retrograde.
In drafting chart-blazing producer Paul Epworth (Adele, Cee Lo Green, Coldplay, Bruno Mars) for Citizen Zombie’s recording, The Pop Group seem to be acknowledging that times have changed, or better said that the sonic landscape has somewhat caught up to them. This isn’t really a new circumstance however, and longtime fan Epworth doesn’t attempt to navigate mass sales potential. Instead, he crafts an environment reminiscent of an era that saw the band’s (no longer) posthumous impact begin to strongly assert itself, namely the early 1990s.
Appropriately, Citizen Zombie opens with a bang. More aptly, the title track is a bruising mixture of abrasion (the first sound we hear is a processed human scream), pounding rhythms, and catchier motifs via keyboard; so, not far afield from where they left off, a Simon and Garfunkel lyric getting tossed in for good measure.
“Citizen Zombie” does display a sense of control reminding me of the rock-derived, industrial-informed, and often funky racket that was shifting respectable units and filling mid-sized clubs across the ‘90s Alternative scene; given Stewart’s profile post-Pop Group (New Age Steppers, Mark Stewart & the Maffia, collabs with Trent Reznor, Tricky, and Massive Attack) this is not a surprise.
“Mad Truth” relaxes the harshness and ups the funk quotient for a little liberation through body shake; where The Pop Group once hijacked various dance genres toward an objective of disruption, this cut’s biggest detour from generally accessible byways journeys into the edgy, distinctly non-pop neighborhood of Stewart’s vocals.
The song does accumulate an agreeably powerful horn-accented thrust and leads into standout “Nowhere Girl,” its expert use of dub technique, meticulous layering, and melodious atmosphere making it one of the few Citizen Zombie selections to strike the ear as of the nonce rather than steeped in the aforementioned (and not-unpleasant) older milieu.
Indeed, “Shadow Child” is quite early-‘90s in execution, brandishing the sort of stressed-out techno-funk that reminds me a bit of US act Consolidated, or more accurately how I remember them sounding; they were undeniably one of the select exponents to fully engage with The Pop Group’s social-political agenda and not just their musical qualities. But in a nice twist, “Shadow Child” is ultimately too eccentric to stumble into merely imitating those they influenced.
And in a further positive development “The Immaculate Deception” retains the band’s occasional undercurrent of resemblance to countrymen XTC, the results here perhaps comparable to a fictitious side-project Andy Partridge might’ve cut for Wax Trax Records around ’90 or so with co-production by Luc Van Acker and Al Jourgensen.
“S.O.P.H.I.A.” starts with low end rumble followed by feedback, the setting again turning temperately funky as the recurrence of Catsis’ ‘80s/‘90s slap bass can’t help but reinforce the datedness. But from another angle, hardly anybody is currently investigating an agitprop groove-thing so forthrightly, and “S.O.P.H.I.A.” also works as a loose if more streamlined sibling to “She is Beyond Good and Evil.”
Citizen Zombie isn’t a bunch of geezers playing at being young, though they do sensibly remain in touch with their former selves; along with its angular and unruly nature, “Box 9” adds in a hearty and welcome dose of horn skronk, and “Nations” employs the familiar combination of recitation and musical backdrop.
As expected it’s socially concerned and strident to varying degrees, and the words eschew the wearyingly didactic for the climes of the pointed rant. It leads to “St Outrageous,” which couples well with the title track, providing additional contrast to the runaway train flying off the rails-mode of the early stuff. The Pop Group clearly have a firm handle on life in 2015, though to their credit they’re still legitimately pissed and plainly grasp the characteristics that make their prime work so effective.
Returning to the fount of dub is “Age of Miracles.” If pop oriented, it has its post-punk roots showing and is less of a beauty move than “Nowhere Girl.” “Echelon” ends the record with a plunge into vocal melodramatics spiked by synth, keys, and pizzicato strings; rhythmic momentum (accented by what sounds like pennywhistles!) does set in for the final minute.
Saving the boldest deviation for last is a well-established tactic in album assembly, and it serves The Pop Group well here, leaving the listener to ruminate over as many differences as similarities after the passage of three and a half decades. Citizen Zombie may not reach the heights of their heyday, but the 2015 incarnation of the band has nothing to be ashamed of.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
B+
