30th anniversary review: The Wedding Present – “Seamonsters”

This review is part of a series looking back at significant albums on their anniversaries. Through the benefit of hindsight we will be viewing the album not just as it was released, but how it stands the test of time, as well as its place in the band’s discography and the genre in general.

RCA – 27 May 2021

Likely the best of early The Wedding Present, except for the sound

The Wedding Present has a long and storied history, mostly notable by its frequent lineup changes since their reformation in 2004 and the idea that, nowadays, it really is solely the David Gedge Show. But Seamonsters came at a time when the band’s lineup was still relatively stable (guitarist Peter Solowka would be unceremoniously “let go” between the recording and release). The album is known for its change in tone from previous releases, as well as the work of Steve Albini on the production end (more on that later).

Seamonsters was a bit of a change from the cheery, clean sound of their previous albums George Best and, in their major label debut, Bizarro. The tracks are often much slower than the style of “fastest band not playing metal” that they were known for before, and often feature a darker tone that TWP hadn’t really shown previously. While some fans saw this as a turn off, it wasn’t such a difference that there was a mass exodus of the band’s fanbase. From what I’ve seen and heard, most people consider everything up to their 1992 singles project (now known as The Hit Parade) as quintessential The Wedding Present (despite putting out two more albums before a brief hiatus from 1997 to 2004).

Seamonsters was actually the first TWP album I had ever heard. At a time when I was young and really, really into 80s punk and metal (and The Dead Milkmen, of course), I was as surprised as anyone at how the album, and band, were able to pull me into what would end up being a life-long fan. Who would’ve thought that this band from the UK with the distinctive crooner would be so musically attractive to little 16-year-old punk Jeff? But it was, and still is to this day.

With that in mind, in retrospect the first, gentle strums of album opener “Dalliance” makes me think a lot about Superchunk‘s album Foolish, and how that album’s opener “Like a Fool” seemed miles different from what the band had come before. But at the time, it was just so… narrative in the style of which Gedge relays the broken and tortured relationships of the song’s narrator. The listener can sense the song is building to something big, but it is still a surprise and shock how loud and powerful it is once that transition hits like a train, enhanced but the bass on the kick almost overpowering in its pounding thud. Simply stellar.

“Dare” follows up with a slightly more upbeat sound, but once again continues the almost omnipresent theme of heartbreak, loneliness, sadness, and loneliness. Here, however, our two persons find themselves with the chance to take advantage of their attractions to each other, cheating on their significant others, if only for a brief moment. The song is played and sung with such passion and conviction, and attention to lyrics, that the listener maybe even finds themselves rooting for these two despite, well, how awful it seems.

If “Dare” is about the dissatisfaction of your current relationship, “Suck” takes the opposite approach, channeling that infatuation of another that one can find themselves entrenched in and how, in many ways, it can be just as unhealthy (if not more so). A lower tempo song heightened by drum rolls and a droning guitar, and makes you feel like you are spiraling into that unbridled infatuation, as well.

I won’t tackle every song individually, but would just like to say that, through it all, Seamonsters basically break down into one theme: love is hard and emotions are really tricky to process, let alone justify, and that sometimes lust is enough. However, usually this ends with one of two outcomes: either the characters get together, or one of them has ended up with someone else. Its a simple premise to make a career out of but, generally The Wedding Present has done it and done it fairly successfully.

Of special note is the penultimate song on the album (more on that later, too), “Heather.” Of all the tracks on the album, I find this one to be the most operatic and cinematic. With a rolling drum throughout the song as it slowly builds, the narrator laments his lost love, but is also shows his anger in the question “What makes you want to take him there? / What makes you think I wouldn’t care? / And did you walk from the town into the heather? / To where we used to lie down when we were together.” It is one of the few songs where Gedge rapidly changes between bellows and whispers often in such quick succession, expressing the pain and frustration over what had once been a special place between two lovers now seemingly usurped by an intruder. For my money, the best song on the album.

“Octopussy” closes it all out as the longest track on the album. A meandering song about how the experience of love (again, right?) can grow in someone that is summed up by the lines in the chorus “I don’t want to understand why I need you / You’ve just become my family.”

I often vacillate a bit, but I find myself regularly coming to the conclusion that this may be The Wedding Present’s best album. The band was really firing on all cylinders at the time and, along with Gedge, Solowka (despite what was said during and after his dismissal), Keith Gregory on bass, and Simon Smith’s rapid fire drumming put together an excellent package of songs. What’s the downside?

Well, I am… not… really a fan of Steve Albini when he is wearing his producer/engineer hat. I find his handling of music to be heavy-handed and, yes, amateurish. Often some of a band’s best work ever is marred by the bludgeoning wall of noise and the lack of any atmosphere or finesse that Albini ends up shoveling out. If a band wanted their album to sound like they recorded it on an 8-track in a garage, they could save a lot of money by doing that instead of flying across the country, or even the world, to pay Steve Albini to do it. Thankfully this album isn’t the most egregious of his products, but there are points where he hurts a lot more than he helps. Transitions between quiet and loud usually come off as noise and lack nuance. Albini’s one general saving grace is that he treats percussion as it should be: full bodied and robust. Something he continues here with aplomb. But the dynamic sound these songs possess (I’ve heard most of them live enough times by now to hear the difference ) is lost in the very 2D world that Albini’s work sonically ends up as. As with many albums he has been a part of on the production side, it survives and succeeds despite his involvement.

Truly a classic, though. If you’re a fan but haven’t thought of it in a while, throw Seamonsters on again. If you’ve never heard, I highly recommend. Check it out.

BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE!!!

US fans and, later, just about everyone else, got three bonus songs tacked onto the end. While the songs are good, they don’t fit the “story” of Seamonsters and I often wonder what purpose they serve other than to pad out the album for the North American audience. The noticeable difference is in the sound. Apparently recorded by Albini at the same session as the rest of the album, their status as not part of the original, final track list may have lead them down a different post-production route. Most noticeable is the semi-instrumental “Dan Dare,” a poppy, rollicking tune that is much crisper and clean than anything else on the album. It may not fit that album’s tone, but is is such a fun song that you can’t not love it.