Song of the day – 441: The Sting-Rays (something wonderful from the 80s)

Not one bloody person clicked *like* when I posted this up on Facebook – beyond a band-member – so I have to assume everyone still doesn’t know who they are.

Shame.

As I commented on Facebook, this is a MASSIVE song. I made the 4-track 12-inch EP this song comes from Single of the Week #3 (I believe) in the NME, right behind Bruce Springsteen’s version of “War’ and a flexi-disc of The Clouds. Maybe that made a few folk take notice. Seems unlikely. On reflection, it should have been Single of the Week outright in that company, but I could well have my weeks mixed up. (I made the Boss’ bludgeoning version of the Edwin Starr cut SOTW? What was I thinking? Was I even listening to the same record, etc etc. I was probably on a momentary crusade to prove that I wasn’t just this anaemic asexual astringent, exclamation mark-loving, rock-hating, naive social retard that I’d been painted. Who was I kidding?)

Whatever. I still love this song. Reminds me of The Turncoats and The Wolfhounds and some of the 80s Flying Nun output. The riff is monstrous, the way it keeps threatening to change. The aura of menace is palpable, all the better for being kept on a tight leash. This was one of the few times the U.K. psychobilly scene of the early 80s realised its potential. Great live, but rarely realised on record. Not that The Sting-Rays were particularly psychobilly, having more in common with early Billy Childish forays like Thee Milkshakes than the brutish swagger of post-Meteors bands. Restraint, that’s what it’s about.

The Sting-Rays LPs are well worth checking out as well.

Sigh. This is shaping up to be the least-read post on Collapse Board this year. Shame.

by Everett True

My name is Everett True. I am a music critic. This is what I do. I criticise music. The clue is in my job description – music critic. I do not consider myself a journalist, as I do not research or report hard news. I do not consider myself a commentator as I believe that everyone should be a participant. I criticise people and in return I am not surprised if other people criticise me. It is part of the whole deal of being in the public arena. I am Everett True. Believe in me and I have power like a God. Quit believing in me and I no longer exist.