Wedding Present

David Gedge was one of the few true geniuses of British pop of the 1990s during it boom. While he never composed a true masterpiece, he contributed to redefining the meaning of the word “pop,” just as the Beatles did in the 1960s, ABBA in the 1970s, and the Smiths immediately before him.

Formed in 1985 in Leeds, his Wedding Present became one of the institutions of melodic English rock and are destined to remain among the few truly important bands. Not only are their songs as catchy as the genre demands, but they also boast an almost punkish drive and eccentric arrangements that their Brit-pop successors could only dream of.

The band began with an effervescent and frenetic boogie, propelled by Peter Solowka’s feverish guitar work, with early singles like Go Out And Get 'Em Boy (1985), Once More (February 1986), This Boy Can Wait (July 1986), and especially My Favourite Dress (February 1987) and Anyone Can Make A Mistake (September 1987), yet their songs already demonstrated a melodic talent far above the average. Gedge’s vocal delivery suggested a more assertive version of the Smiths’ guitar-driven pop.

The band’s melodic personality came decisively to the fore on the album George Best (Reception, 1987), despite the sarcasm of the punk era and the nervous energy of new wave. What was truly innovative—the way a song is constructed from minimally melodic elements—remains in the background; the way, for example, in Everyone Thinks He Looks Daft (perhaps the masterpiece), Gedge’s sermon rides over Solowka’s strumming before opening into the choral chorus; or the way the elegant air of Don't Be So Hard is propelled by a syncopated rhythm and a rolling guitar; or how the interplay of guitars (an obsessive strumming that comes and goes, a background distortion, and a dominant bass figure) ignites It's What You Want That Matters.
The schizoid epilepsy of All This And More and the simple melodies of Shatner are the legacy of punk rock, while I'm Not Always So Stupid and A Million Miles anticipate the crystalline pop of the future. Energy, passion, and good-natured charm make these songs little anthems for young bourgeois who do not identify with the melodramatic psalms of the Smiths.

Tommy (Reception, 1988) collects the best of the first two years.

Nobody's Twisting Your Arm (February 1988) and Why Are You Being So Reasonable Now (September 1988) continued their series of singles, and the band even indulged in the interlude of an album of Ukrainian folk songs. Bizarro (RCA, 1989), on the other hand, presented them as experimenters—catchy in Kennedy and Brassneck, but also capable of stretching out over the nine minutes of Take Me, a trenody in the style of the Velvet Underground.

Seamonsters (RCA, 1991), produced by Steve Albini, returns to the introspective, anguished pop of the Smiths, but with an almost manic energy (by their standards). Dalliance opens with the tired, dark tolls of guitar and bass, like a Lou Reed even more lethargic, gradually revealing a soaring melody and a hopping rhythm (almost Rolling Stones-like), and when it erupts into collective cacophony, the effect is utterly shocking. From then on, the pattern remains the same: the singer emphatically declaims his existential torments, the drums drive a frenzied pace, and the guitar executes deafening incursions. Dare is perhaps the best manifestation of this. An almost dark-punk anguish (almost Cure-like) tears through Blonde and Heather.
Breathing space returns with the subdued ballad Rotterdam, once again in the understated Lou Reed boogie style. Lovenest and Corduroy release rock energy, yet within tempestuous atmospheres, and their choruses sound chilling rather than cheerful. The album marks the darkest and most subdued phase of their career.

Having lost Solowka and recruited Paul Dorrington on guitar, in 1992 the Wedding Present embarked on the ambitious project of releasing a single every month, all regularly hurled to the top of the UK charts (and all more or less mediocre). Blue Eyes, Three, California (perhaps the best, an immersion in the sounds of the 1960s), Silver Shorts, Boing, and the others, later collected in the two Hit Parade (BMG, 1992 & 1993), define a new style that is at once thunderous, languid, and catchy.

Watusi (Island, 1994), with Darren Belk on bass and producer Steve Fisk on keyboards, is a work far more optimistic than Seamonsters. Gedge is at the peak of his abilities as a performer, and his histrionic performances lead the quartet, which sticks to a minimal essential of arrangement, through a labyrinth of styles and genres. Aside from the tribute to the more carefree 1960s in the driving rave-up of Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah, this is an album that thrives on subtle ambiguity. The schizophrenic blend in So Long Baby, which first embodies the humorous folk of the Violent Femmes and then erupts into machine-gun punk rock, and in Click Click, which weaves Buzzcocks-like choruses with Velvet Underground-style interludes, is the same ensemble that, over the seven minutes of Catwoman, shifts from a faint Syd Barrett-style humming to an almost gypsy-like crescendo.
The songs seemingly rely on simple structures, but in reality they display harmonies far from trivial, as demonstrated by the aberrant levels of funky frenzy in Let Him Have It (worthy of the early Talking Heads) and the antiquated sounds of Spangle (for scratched vinyl and street organ). At the core of their sound remain three fundamental components: a deafening strum, borrowed from the Velvet Underground and the Fall, expressed in its purest form in Shake It and the instrumental Hot Pants; a typically British melodicism, eccentric yet dark (which Swimming Pools would credit to a cross between Fall and Cure); and the folk-like lilt (an influence revealed in the acoustic ballads Gazebo and especially Big Rat).
All in all, it could be the best-crafted Wedding Present album, the one that most successfully synthesizes their eclectic fusion.

Having lost Dorrington (whose spot on guitar was taken by bassist Darren Belk after Jane Lockey joined), that almost bubblegum melodicism nonetheless shows its limits on Mini (Cooking Vinyl, 1996), despite some of their best melodies: Jet Girl, Convertible, Mercury, Sucker, Drive.

Montreal is the only gem from Saturnalia (Cooking Vinyl, 1996).

The singles were anthologized on Singles 1989-91, Singles 1992-94, and Singles 1995-97 (SpinArt, 1999).

Gedge would later form the Cinerama.

The Wedding Present were resurrected for Take Fountain (Manifesto, 2005). The songs are not not dated: they are just trivial. However, Gedge does try to reform himself, as visible in tracks such as the lengthy Interstate 5.

Search For Paradise (Manifesto, 2006) collects the 2004-05 singles.

El Rey (2008) is slightly more muscular but the melodies are still trite and only hardcore fans of Gedge find his lyrics interesting.

Valentina (2012) simply marked one of Wedding Present's all-time lows.