Michael aka Mick Head (not sure why he’s down as “Mike” here) first made waves in Liverpool with the Pale Fountains in the early 1980s. Neither they or Shack quite got the success they should have done, despite being highly thought of in their hometown. But Mick’s stature seems to be growing over the years and he’s finally getting the recognition he deserves.
I assume the reference in my review to town planners is based on the song Who Killed Clayton Square.
And you might recognise the name of Victor the barber. He also featured in Echo and the Bunnymen’s Crystal Day event in 1984.
The Bluecoat Chambers, now known as just The Bluecoat, is a fab arts centre in an amazing building. I think it was around this time that Jayne Casey (ex Big in Japan) was booking the bands there.
Shack
Bluecoat, Chambers, Liverpool
Melody Maker, May 28, 1988
SHACK play a small and perfectly performed set of perfectly formed and not so small songs. Not that there's anything superfluous in these sweetly burning vignettes of inner city reality and regret, but there's plenty of power.
Flashback to early Eighties: a local radio programme runs a competition for a Pale Fountains record. Choose an adjective that describes the band. The word "wet" mischievously comes to mind. A not-quite-accurate pun and you couldn't help liking them anyway, but this is something different.
Among the faintly arty ambience of an arts centre turned populist, Shack (denims and hat) look more like real people than some of the audience. The most severe haircuts are downstairs where Victor the hippest barber in town has been turned into the support act and is turning in a nifty line in flattops.
Meanwhile, on stage, Mike Head is thrashing a 12 string as though it were a town planner. All that's left of his pale past is a continuing abundance of pretty melodies, and Sixties echoes that come from a slightly different angle, with a fierce mesh of guitars—the word jangly is unavoidable—and even a country air. The words though are pure Eighties, and not giving in.
And the music is kept simple, and strong and spirited. Suddenly, unlike the debut gig mere months ago, Shack are almost ideal. There's nearly everything you want—tunes, meaning, nice noise, and matter of fact poetry—and nothing you don't want. It's very pleasing, very pop, and, this time, cutting too.
Listen to Shack
Here’s a track from Shack’s 1988 album Zilch. Good, isn’t it?