By the mid-’70s, Michael Moorcock was accustomed to inventing the future. A prolific, anarchistic author deeply in touch with the counterculture, he crafted countless short stories and novels throughout the ’60s, edited New Worlds magazine and led the ‘New Wave’ of science fiction, concentrating on literary experimentation, allegories and fantastical visions rather than hard technology. He’d influenced the realm of music too, most notably collaborating with Hawkwind in the early ’70s as they moved from Ladbroke Grove stoners to glorious, intergalactic drone-rockers.
By the mid-’70s, Michael Moorcock was accustomed to inventing the future. A prolific, anarchistic author deeply in touch with the counterculture, he crafted countless short stories and novels throughout the ’60s, edited New Worlds magazine and led the ‘New Wave’ of science fiction, concentrating on literary experimentation, allegories and fantastical visions rather than hard technology. He’d influenced the realm of music too, most notably collaborating with Hawkwind in the early ’70s as they moved from Ladbroke Grove stoners to glorious, intergalactic drone-rockers.
How much Moorcock’s work had an impact on Bowie is hard to discern – though the two certainly knew each other – but years before Ziggy Stardust first touched down in Aylesbury, the author had created Jerry Cornelius, a charismatic and androgynous hipster being, hero of The Final Programme, which finally appeared in 1969 after being deemed too out-there for publication.
Moorcock can be forgiven, then, for being behind the times just this once. In May 1975, aged 35, he finally released his debut album with his band The Deep Fix, an apocalyptic space-boogie record that hit just as glam was changing into something else entirely – Bowie was deep in plastic soul, Roxy were busy turning into a pop group, Cockney Rebel had disintegrated and T.Rex were faltering as a commercial proposition.
Those contemporary currents seem less important a half century on, however, and heard on its own merits, The New Worlds Fair is a fascinating snapshot of Moorcock’s blazing, untameable genius. Anchored around the trio of Moorcock on guitar and usually lead vocals, bassist Steve Gilmore and guitarist Graham Charnock, plus a host of guests, the record is woven together by a spoken-word narrative involving a dystopian, sinister fairground and the Dude – a charismatic, doomed hipster in the line of Jerry Cornelius and Ziggy Stardust, a cooler version of Moorcock’s usual Eternal Champion archetype.
This 50th-anniversary edition tacks a single and its B-side at the beginning of the record, and it’s a wise move, with “Dodgem Dude” introducing the Dude with rugged garage-glam and Mick Ronson-esque lead guitar, and “Starcruiser” (featuring Hawkwind’s Nik Turner) getting a little further out in funkily propulsive fashion. Then we hear the fine demo of “Candy Floss Cowboy”, which opened the original album in a shorter, more abstract form. That comes next, followed by the near-six-minute ballad “Fair Dealer”, strafed with Simon House’s multitracked violin drones and Moorcock on mandolin. A distant cousin of Bowie’s “Cygnet Committee”, it works much better here within the album rather than as its bona fide opener.
Moorcock’s collaborators also get a shot at writing, with Gilmore’s savage, glittering “Octopus” rippling with future echoes of Ty Segall and Charnock’s “In The Name Of Rock & Roll” reminiscent of Ray Davies’ work around this time. His “You’re A Hero”, a slice of drawling rock’n’roll boogie, suggests Lou Reed, in his glam Transformer guise, naturally. “Come To The Fair”, also Charnock’s, finds the missing link between John Cale and Steeleye Span: “Will you dance with me on the edge of the dark?/Until the darkness falls…”
Gilmore’s epic “Ferris Wheel” is one of The New Worlds Fair’s highlights, a narcotically slow ballad with massed backing vocals, elegant lead guitar and swathes of House’s Mellotron strings. “The fair’s nearly over, Dude, your soul is the entrance fee,” whispers Moorcock at its close. As the record reaches its climax, the author takes back the reins and the tale reaches its – admittedly obscure – conclusion. The swinging proto-punk of “Last Merry Go Round”, with Hawkwind’s Dave Brock soloing wildly, careens into some kind of detonation and then the passionate closing ballad “Dude’s Dream (Rolling In The Ruins)”, country rock kitted out in glam threads. Finally, the bell tolls for the Dude, quite literally.
This edition tacks on three 1981 recordings that veer into Numan-esque synth-pop, plus three demos, including the thrilling “Kings Of Speed”. To be fair, though, every track on The New Worlds Fair shares this demo-ish recording quality anyway, an exciting sense of a band roughly sticking down their creations in one or two takes. 50 years on, this singular, strange and charmingly gauche album is still brimming with life and a savage vigour, just like Moorcock himself.
The post Michael Moorcock & The Deep Fix’s The New World’s Fair reviewed: savage sci-fi glam/country from the cult author and sometime Hawkwind collaborator appeared first on UNCUT.
