Cccandy

Heads on Sticks end of decade 2010's playlist!!

”And some people say it’s just rock and roll,

Oh but it gets you right down to your soul

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, ‘Push the Sky Away’, 2013

Music has been my greatest companion. My favourtite drug, a rubber ring in emergency, a tool for surgical introspection. Anyone who loves their music will often struggle to summarise their decade without listing a string of albums or gigs before detailing actual events. The cathartic properties of music are forever intertwined with the narrative of our lives, from our deepest most private battles to the socio-political turmoil stared down by the nation. What this decade means to me is overwhelmingly represented in just 100 songs.

I entered the 2010’s in a fog of uncertainty, as did the country. The financial crisis seemed to coarsen people, the New Labour consensus lay dying, and an emerging appetite for punitive politics reared its head. For many young people, the student protests of 2010 were the seeds of their political awakening. Having had to endure the gleeful relish at further debt for simply wanting an education from pissheads at a bar I worked part-time at, I was well aware that my Media Practice and Film-Making degree would gather scant respect in a new climate of bitter division, and was sure that economic precarity was to follow due to the recession at the time of my graduation.

Right toward the end of my studies, I got hit by the ‘lightning bolt’. One of the greatest experiences is the hit of a fantastic tune when you discover an artist so brilliant it terrifies you that life could have carried on without their songs in your system. As a deep admirer of the original wave of synth artists (Cabaret Voltaire, Kraftwerk, early Human League etc.) I was dissatisfied with the way the synthesizer was being used as a mere indie-toy as opposed to the mysterious beast it was capable of. Stumbling around on YouTube late at night I was exposed to a song called ‘Vigils‘ by Xeno & Oaklander and it was exactly what I wanted to hear. Deep, cold, and analogue, it seized me with its glacial grip and before the song had finished I knew I had heard one of the best electronic acts there had ever been. They opened a door to a plethora of related acts I was totally oblivious to (Sixth June, Daybed, Automelodi) in addition to Veronica Vasicka’s excellent minimal-synth archival project/label Minimal Wave.

The dull, grey thud of intermittent unemployment and bullshit jobs plagued me and many of my friends from the summer of 2011. Despite the camaraderie which comes with living in a house full of struggling artists on the dole and not knowing what the fuck they were doing, anger and disillusionment were never too far from the skint revelry. Cccandy and Youth Code were on repeat during this period, perfectly matching the corrosive effects of austerity breakdown with their volatile and abrasive synth-punk pummel. When we finally got our shit together around 2013 and found some stability and money in our pockets the pop around us seemed brighter and effervescent. ‘s ‘Pilgrim’ and Arcade Fire‘s ‘Reflektor’ were my ‘songs of the summer’, whenever I hear them now I’m taken over with a sense of sunny renewal.

Each year brought more and more fantastic music, and little did I know that I was living in the city which was at the forefront of the ‘new’. Wych Elm, New Haunts, Avon Terror Corps, E B U, Orryx all knocked me sideways and enthused me so much that I finally plucked the courage to start Heads on Sticks. Any resulting success I’ve had I owe to the mosaic of artists, labels, promoters, and radio stations that make up the Bristol music monster invigorating me to want to get stuck in.

There’s an ocean of songs to sift through but I’ve settled for 100, ten per year. 100 good friends that have seen me through the tribulations of the tumultuous decade. No hierarchy, no objective ‘best of’, just simply the story of my 2010’s, and pretty much my twenties.

I approach the 2020’s with uncertainty once again. The devastating defeat of what felt like a once in a lifetime chance of national healing has left me fearing for the future of our country. I take great comfort in knowing that I enter the new decade in a total golden age of challenging, unique, exquisite and fiercely creative music and performing art.

Thanks for the music,

Tom (a fan)

Spit ‘n’ Static! 1020 Radio #1

Was a pleasure to introduce Bristol’s 1020 Radio to Glaciers’s mutated brother! The full gamut of synthpunk, avant-weird jams, garbled voices and fizzy spit in an hour of electronic radiation courtesy of everyone’s favourite Head on a Stick! Catch the alien signal intrusion same time next month, on Thursday 9th! 👌 👽

EXCAVATIONS #1 Cccandy ‘Lonesome Berlin’

If you ever wanted to know what rotting, dead, pop songs sounded like, Cccandy’s Lonesome Berlin would be a good start.

A bedroom DIY synth project conceived by Stefan Sehm (drummer for Berlin punk band Bikes) in 2008, little else is known about the cryptic Cccandy. His self-described ‘morbid pop’ was well evident on his preceding Necrosis 7” and self-titled debut, but its 2010’s Lonesome Berlin, issued on the brilliant Avant! Records, which best realises his acerbic murk.

Lo-fi fog permeates through the album, with choppy drum machines and muffled synths adding to the miasma. Its skeletal minimalism avoids Martin Rev style brittleness, with every bassline and melody feeling thick and turgid. The title track, and arguably Cccandy’s signature song, encapsulates the subterranean dank beautifully. Spooky pitch bends haunt the monotonous arpeggios, all held together by the punch of fuzzy snares.

Despite the pervading dread, he doesn’t let electro-sludge get in the way of a good tune. Each track belies its smoggy shroud with a keen ear for catchy pop sensibilities, albeit a skewed and warped one. The fizzy synthpop of ‘Woman’, or the muffled disco of ‘Teacher of Lust’, adds a smart dimension to the LP which stops the doom becoming dirge. He even gets anthemic on the re-recording of ‘I’m a Punk’, first heard on his 2009 debut.

‘Acid squid, bottomless pit…’ Beefheart surrealism doesn’t dilute the visceral potency, acrid snapshots of violence, paranoia, blood and alienation, this is a worm’s eye view of Berlin. A cool view of humanity made all the more disconcerting by his monotone, sexless, distorted vocals, at times unintelligible within the mire. A gallows sense of humour runs throughout. ‘Bourgeoisie, no thank you’ he pleads in ‘Bourgeoisie Nie’ feeling like an attack on the slow death creep of gentrification, and the final mantra of ‘I need blood and guts’ on ‘Blood and Guts’ perhaps pokes fun at his more earnest post-punk contemporaries, much like Aphex Twin’s mockery of death metal on ‘Come To Daddy’.

Cccandy remains active on Soundcloud, sporadically releasing tracks and various other projects, but never followed up with another significant LP. Lonesome Berlin still stands as a caustic synth-punk gem, and festers in the seamy underbelly of Berlin, waiting to be excavated.