A few days, Marilyn took on the herculean task of writing about Mancunian post-punk legends The Fall. Now, I’m going to go a bit south and write about one of Britain’s most criminally underrated bands: Leicester’s Cornershop.
Cornershop are nowhere near as known and influential as Serge Gainsbourg or The Fall, but in my opinion, they fully deserve to be. In the interest of full disclosure, I must admit that their three classic albums from the mid-90s resonate with me on a personal level. Written from the point-of-view of a bookish British Asian with a schizophrenic record collection making his way in post-industrial Britain, it appears, at the risk of sounding a bit precious, almost as if they were made for me. I was introduced to their music as an eight-year-old when “Brimful of Asha” went to #1 in the charts. I got When I Was Born For the 7th Time and it became one of the first records I ever owned (I started my collection the previous year with Blur’s self-titled album, The Spice Girls’ Spice and The Verve’s Urban Hymns). In the decade since, I’ve discovered the rest of their discography and I must say, few bands have been as consistently rewarding to me as Cornershop.
However, they happen to be good enough to appeal to people without ridiculously convoluted ethnic and nationality issues. The first album, Hold On It Hurts, is pure amateurish pop heaven, the sound of a 60s garage-band bashing their instruments until achieving nirvana, then adding Indian touches such as sitar, dholaki and the odd Punjabi phrase to the mix for colour. Later on, the band would learn their instruments a bit better and experiment with electronic instruments but they always retained that basic child-like joy in their music. This is not gloomy grunge and it’s not really in tune with the Britpop thing either, though there are a few shared influences. No, Cornershop are more of a mutt with no natural bloodline and no descendants to speak of. And with a body of work like theirs, that’s really quite alright.

Videos:


“England’s Dreaming” (1993 single)

“Wog” (from 1995’s Woman’s Gotta Have It)




“Sleep On The Left Side” (from 1997’s When I Was Born For The 7th Time)

Where to start: With the exception of When I Was Born For the 7th Time, all of the band’s albums are out of print in the US, so I’ve ripped the band’s excellent first two albums at 192kbps and posted them as zip files on Mediafire for your listening pleasure. The links precede the reviews.

Hold On It Hurts: The band’s debut. It’s got a charmingly amateur, ramshackle feel about it. Imagine if Pavement’s Slanted and Enchanted had included Indian influences and you’re not far off this album. “Kalluri’s Radio” starts off with a muezzin, then goes into a melodic pop-punk song with 60s organ at the end, while “Where D’u Get Your Information?” sounds like Anoushka Shankar sat in on a Sonic Youth rehearsal. It’s the definition of culture clash, really. I’ve ripped the US edition, which appends the Lock, Stock & Double-Barrel EP.

Woman’s Gotta Have It: The band’s second and best album. It includes “Wog,” the best pop single ever built around a racial slur*, “6am Jullandar Shere,” a solemn Punjabi hymn and a set of guitar-based tunes more fully formed than the material from Hold On. A particular highlight is “Jansimram King,” which lifts into transcendence during the chorus, with some well-placed bongos. It’s still very different from 7th Time, with only “Camp Orange” foreshadowing the band’s future direction.

When I Was Born For the 7th Time: Or the album with “Brimful of Asha.” Actually, this album had three hit singles and was a pretty solid full-length in its own right, but most people only remember “Asha,” which is a shame. There are dubby instrumentals, light dance-pop, experimental hip-hop, experiments with Indian percussion and a Punjabi cover of the Beatles’ “Norwegian Wood.” It sounds like a weed-head record, but I can’t confirm that until it’s legalised. Right. Anyway, my pet peeve about this record: due to his heavy Midlands accent, Tjinder bludgeons Asha’s name. It’s pronounced AH-shuh, not “Asher.”

Handcream for a Generation: I didn’t like this one at all. I actually sold my copy of it back. If you’re interested in hearing it, I’m sure a quick Google search will find it. Most of the songs run overlong, but the main offence of this record is the fact that Noel Gallagher makes a cameo. That should tell you all you need to know about this record.

Also, be sure to check out the free download section of the band’s website, where you can download a Cavemen remix of “Topknot,” their 2004 single with Bubbley Kaur that features a cameo from M.I.A.

Associated acts: Asian Dub Foundation have a similar aesthetic and are certainly worth checking out. Stereolab may also appeal to you. If you liked the alternate version of “Topknot,” then M.I.A.’s first album, Arular, is right up your alley. If you’d like to explore Punjabi music, check out Beware by Panjabi MC and the Bend It Like Beckham soundtrack. If you liked the guitar-based style of the debut album, I’d point you to Unrest, as well as Blur’s “Advert,” which I’ve always thought of as a tidied-up version of “England’s Dreaming.”

Reading: Amardeep Singh wrote an article around the release of Handcream for a Generation called “Norwegian Lakri: Thoughts on Cornershop” that is worth reading. He discusses Cornershop’s hybridity, and though he’s considerably more cynical about it that I am, he is fluent in Punjabi (as opposed to knowing a few phrases of it) and certainly that provides another perspective.

* and a few years later, they did a song called “Wop The Groove.” Really, I’m waiting for “Paki” to come out.

NOTE ON TRANSLITERATION: You might have noticed I used both Punjabi and Panjabi in this article. The actual sound falls somewhere between ‘a’ and ‘u,’ so it can be put into English script as either. As a rule of thumb, Panjabi is more often used in the UK, whereas Punjabi is used in the US.