tracks on LP: Girl On The Phone / Thick As Thieves / Private Hell / Little Boy Soldiers / Wasteland / Burning Sky / Smithers-Jones / Saturday’s Kids / The Eton Rifles / Heatwave
Record Label: Polydor POLD 5028
Producer: Vic Coppersmith-Heaven
Released: 17/11/79
Purchased: 11/10/80
Change. It’s something Paul Weller wrote about on “To Be Someone”, that sour story on ‘All Mod Cons’ about the kid who wanted to be famous then wasted it all away. There was a typical air of inevitability in the song, capped perfectly with the characteristic twisted sneer of “But didn’t we have a nice time?”.
Of course Weller is unlikely to self-destruct because he’s too clever by far. He has always adapted to change and rarely taken risks.
Three years ago The Jam started with a tried and tested formula of early ’60s Who, Weller so besotted with Townshend that imitating the grandfather’s style bordered on monomania. But he added a quality of his own: just enough aggressive belligerence to stand to the right of the original punk storm of indignance and insolence.
Weller created for himself a cosy, comfortable position. With their sharp suits, laundered looks and unthreatening demeanour, The Jam’s image segregated them from ‘subversive’ punk. They were middle class entertainment, seemingly going for mass, and not cult, acceptance. And it took three albums to find their own identity and step out of the warm security of imitation.
‘All Mod Cons’ was a brilliant album where Weller discovered his artistic focus. It had followed their debut ‘In The City’, which was vibrant but erratic, contrived and too much of a ’60s Who appreciation society, and ‘This Is The Modern World’, which was one-dimensional with the slogans and catch-phrases for a youth movement, also musically shoddy with Weller all too conscious of the significance of imperfection.
‘All Mod Cons’ took the best of both and dumped the conceit of the rest. It was adapted to the prevalent musical climate and has since brought about a change in modern rock ‘n’ roll. It was a classic, musically mature and lyrically a broad description of its time: the emotions and characters and lifestyles; the classes and the fashions; the escapism and the blunt realities.
On those terms there probably isn’t another ’70s album to match it. But Weller knows all about change. While ‘All Mod Cons’ became a celebrated masterpiece (and Mod celebration) that allowed The Jam to leave behind that surrogate Who stigma and establish Weller as one of Britain’s few great writing talents, its critical acclaim became an impediment.
Just how do they top that? Write the fourth chapter of the Mod manifesto and invite even stronger comparisons between Weller and Ray Davies and Townshend?
No, ‘Setting Sons’ is a major development and something of a departure. Basically The Jam are disassociating themselves from Mod before they’re buried with it.
Musically the style is familiar, if more measured and weightier than before, and there isn’t one dubious song among the nine originals. Lyrically it’s characteristically Weller involving social scenarios and observations on class and fashion. Even so the album is still the greatest risk they’ve taken in their careers.
Apart from “Saturday’s Kids” – a brilliant piece of reportage:
“Saturdays kids live in council houses
Wear v-necked shirts and baggy trousers
Drive Cortinas fur trimmed dash boards
Stains on the seats – in the back of course.”
‘Setting Sons’ doesn’t possess the easily recognisable youth tribalism of ‘All Mod Cons’. It’s scope has wider connotations but, paradoxically its subjects are narrower and less easy to identify.
It’s not a ‘concept’ album in terms of a story but ‘Sons’ has a recurrent theme, dealing primarily with change: growing old, growing apart, growing whimsical, growing cynical . . .
“No it wasn’t enough – and now we’ve gone and spoiled everything.
Now we’re no longer as thick as thieves.”
“Thick As Thieves” is possibly the best song Weller has ever written and the key to the album’s theme. Second track in on side one following the ridiculously superficial “Girl On The Phone”, it’s the long detailed story of a friendship and the closeness of that relationship:
“We stole from the schools and their libraries
We stole from the drugs that sent us to sleep
We stole from the drink that made us sick
We stole anything that we couldn’t keep
And it was enough – we didn’t have to spoil anything
And always be as thick as thieves.”
Then comes the eventual breakup:
“But something came along that changed our minds
I don’t know what and I don’t know why.
But we seemed to grow up in a flash of time
While we watched our ideals helplessly unwind.”
The song puts the others into perspective, each one explaining why the group split up: “Burning Sky”, the busy businessman’s letter of excuses. “The Eton Rifles”, a tale of a misguided, impotent revolutionary challenging the establishment:
“Thought you were smart when you took them on
But you didn’t take a peep in their artillery room
All that rugby puts hairs on your chest
What chance have you got against a tie and a crest.”
“Wasteland”, a bleak grey landscape, Weller’s metaphor of life. “Private Hell”, the tale of unfilled dreams as a woman goes into depressing middle age. And even the opening of “Little Boy Soldiers” slots briefly into the theme before becoming an anti-war song, with Weller finally resigning himself to the futility of protest (in much the same way as he does on “The Eton Rifles”)
“These days I find that I can’t be bothered
To argue with them well what’s the point.”
“Girl On The Phone”, the somewhat misplaced “Heat Wave” (about as interpretive as “In The Midnight Hour” on ‘Modern World’) and Bruce Foxton’s “Smithers-Jones” are the only contrasts to the bleak, distraught and depressing theme. And the latter – the ironic story of the conscientious toff who gets sacked by a sun-tanned boss, thus reinforcing the general impression that life’s a tragedy, no matter what – is the major stylistic departure, sweet vocals over a curtain of strings.
Strings? Is this the modern world or not?
The rest of the album Weller carries alone with his stunning vocals, chopping, abrupt and propulsive guitar, and a batch of melodies and arrangements that put many of the songs on ‘All Mod Cons’ into the shade.
There’s the power of ‘Thieves’, the ragged anger of “Private Hell”, the mellow prettiness of “Wasteland”, the theatrical drama of the three movements in “Little Boy Soldiers”, the staccato, slashing guitar on “Burning Sky” . . .
And the hooks and harmonies – the commercialism – are all there , with drummer Rick Buckler and bassist Foxton following Weller’s order implicitly. More than ever, it’s a one man band, away now from fashion and transient fads. ‘Setting Sons’ is Weller’s own personal statement.
Unlike ‘All Mod Cons’, Weller is setting himself a daring test, the success of this album doesn’t rely on familiarity and identification, but on his talent alone.
It’s Paul’s best album yet. Almost his first solo album too. (NME, 10/11/79)
The Jam | Setting Sons | Polydor | 1979
When THE JAM first crashed the scene four albums ago in a blaze of Union Jacks and Carnaby Street haute coutre, it was inconceivable that they would become our most peculiarly British of bands.
Like Ray Davies of The Kinks, Paul Weller is obsessed with England, its traditions and the way of life of its people. In the past this has caused him to write specifically about London (“In The City”, “This Is The Modern World”, “Strange Town”). the violence of the city (“Tube Station”, “In The Street Today”) and even the haplessness of its inhabitants (“Mr Clean”).
On ‘Setting Sons’ he takes a broader sweep all round. One number is even about The Empire and indirectly provides the album with its title. Others paint portraits of typically English characters, often with ruthless precision. Elsewhere there are songs about loss of innocence, the injustices of the system and even a couple of throwaways, just to remind us that we are being entertained, after all.
The result is a set of tunes of emotional depth and maturity. In fact, it would be easy to fall into the trap of thinking in terms of this being a Weller solo album. If the powerful playing on each of the 10 songs weren’t a reminder of the crucial importance of The Jam’s rhythm section.
Bruce Foxton also co-wrote “Smithers-Jones”, a song about one of society’s classic victims. A pin-striped commuter, he arrives at work one morning, on time, as usual, only to be told that having worked his “arse off”, he is now to be made redundant.
If “Saturday’s Kids” is not the next single, the chances are that it will be “Thick As Thieves”. An elegy to an exhausted childhood friendship. One of the few songs on the album to use a hook-line. It is one of nostalgic poignancy:
“Thich as thieves us, we’d stick together for all time
And we meant it – but it turns out just for a while.”
At the same time, Rick Buckler‘s resonant drums and Weller’s brisk power-chords give the song a tough edge which prevent it from sinking into maudlin pathos.
The other number concerning loss of innocence is “Burning Sky”, seemingly a metaphor for money, or at least the material world. It takes the form of an apologetic letter to an old mate explaining why old values are obsolete and excusing himself for not having the time to see him any more.
As on most of his compositions, here Weller is pointing his finger at the protagonist whilst accepting that he is merely a pawn in society’s game. This idea is fully realised in “Little Boy Soldiers”, a song about a “blessed son of the British Empire” and ultimately one of resignation:
“These days I find that I can’t be bothered to argue with them – well, what’s the point.
Better to take your shots and drop down dead,
Then they send you home in a pine overcoat.”
On the other hand the fact that the album is called ‘Setting Sons’ is perhaps a suggestion that such a system is on the decline. Working hand in hand with “Little Boy Soldiers” is the excellent “The Eton Rifles”, another crack at both the military and the establishment, combined to focus on the public school’s cadet corps.
Of the remaining songs “Wasteland” is an elegantly wistful love song which would have slotted neatly into either of the last two albums and “Girl On The Phone” is the record’s tongue-in-cheek introduction, showing Weller in an unusually flippant mood.
So far, there hasn’t been a reference to mod or an indication of whether the disc measures up to last year’s exceptional ‘All Mod Cons’. Well, to deal with the first problem. The Jam show allegiance to the movement they are thought to be responsible for reviving by closing the album with a rousing version of Martha Reeves’ “Heatwave” and by including a painting of Brighton Pier on the inner sleeve.
As far as being a worthy follow-up to its predecessor is concerned, let’s just say ‘Setting Sons’ is a far more ambitious and adventurous project in every respect. Weller is a fine, ever improving song-writer and, yes, to be someone must now be an even more wonderful thing.
‘Setting Sons’ is a masterpiece of a milestone in the increasingly star-spangled path of the nation’s top trio and quite appropriately, the last great album of the seventies. ***** (Record Mirror, 17/11/79)
The Jam | Setting Sons | Polydor | 1979
In a word: brilliant. Paul Weller has always tried to be good and different, but this time he’s excelled himself. Excellent lyrics (as always), stronger melodies this time (eg. “The Eton Rifles”, included here), superbly executed – power, precision and imagination all round. It’s all dynamite stuff that gets mightier with every play. Simply amazing.
Best tracks: “Private Hell”, “Girl On The Phone”. (9 out of 10) (Smash Hits, November 1979)
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