I first heard Novatron’s ‘new rising sun’ in my flat in lochend, which puts it squarely between 1994 and 2006.
My mate 2ea3 brought it up. I’d never heard of them – and he was a lot more impressed with the copy of Psychic TV’s ‘those who do not’ that’d arrived with it.
PTV have never been a massive favourite of mine, but the Novatron LP just grabbed me by the scruff of the face and still hasn’t let go.
It’s guitars, jim – but not as we know it. Massed and roaring guitars, like being hauled through a housefire.
It’s an album I still go back to, several times a year. One of my desert island discs, if you like.
Years later, sharing a house with a feline supremacist in fife, the first time she heard it, she freaked. Hissing at the speakers, snarling and looking daggers at me (hey, any really savage music’s generally my fault!)
After that, she didn’t seem to mind so much.
As far as I’m concerned, it’s a work of genius. Out of print for years now, I believe. (Go on – contradict me!)
It’s been a regular soundtrack to my writing for well over a decade now. It just seems to pulse away in the background when I’m hammering the keyboard into submission, then grab my attention when my mind drifts in search of new ideas.
Why not use your face to read the novel that started it all? 1919 (inside)
If Scottish literature can be thought of as an elderly, overweight gentleman with savage diarrhea, 1919 (inside) is the land-mine he just stepped on.
Do it – do it NOW – for Diana.