Disc 2 — Metamatic (B-sides, remixes, extended, etc)
(Metal Beat, 2018)

THE PROLOGUE

This disc is almost entirely the b-sides of the singles, remixed or early versions of some songs, and three “new” extended mixes of the original versions made decades after the original album for a 2007 2CD reissue of the album. The sleeve, as seen and mentioned when discussing Disc 1, bears the “artwork” of a master reel tape (Reel 2, as it happens), recorded in June 1979 and engineered by Gareth Jones, with Foxx himself acting as producer.

One’s esteem for the artist grows even more when one recognises that yes, Foxx did almost everything here himself except for a few musical touches and a technical job he couldn’t do, primarily because he’s only one (new kind of) man. The first 10 tracks on Disc 2 comprises most of the second CD of the 2007 DLX RM, a mix of non-LP a-sides and b-sides for the singles.

Following those 10 tracks, we are treated a radio edit and single version of two a-sides that weren’t present on the 2007 box. This is followed by three “alternative versions” (not demo tracks, but probably home studio recordings still much more in the Ultravox! style – including one very special one), and then the aforementioned reworks of three album tracks, two of which are again from the 2007 2CD second disc.

THE MUSIC

The disc leads off with “Film One,” which I first heard as the b-side of the single “Underpass.” One first hearing all those years ago, I wasn’t very big on it. It was dark and heavy and dour compared to the A-side, but I’m glad I revisited it when this box set came out (and again when writing this review).

Now to my ears it sounds more like a symphonic expression of the whole “industrial” music genre. You want heavy metal? This is more like the sonic expression of heavy metals.

“This City” ended up being the third a-side track for the 12-inch “Burning Car” maxi-single, when it should have been the b-side for “Underpass” in my view. Similar to “No-One Driving,” “This City” has an urgency to it that I think would have paired nicely with the a-side.

Instead we got six songs on the 12-inch in total: “Burning Car,” “20th Century” and “This City” on the a-side, and “Miles Away” (another future album track), “A Long Time” (not included on this box set, because it appeared on The Garden), and “Mr. No,” an almost-jazzy instrumentalwith an undercurrent of discord and menace. The periodic “singing” from R2-D2* on the track ties it in nicely to the at the time just-released film The Empire Strikes Back.

*not really, but the same synth used for the film’s famous bot-voice.

The fourth track “CinemaScope,” uses a basic Foxx-ian music bed, adding in his speaking/singing voice and bleeping synths set against a shimmering audio backdrop.

Next up is the non-LP a-side “Burning Car,” a Ballardian masterpiece that should have been a hit single. Deceptively simple due to it’s short chorus (“It’s a burning car!”), the song unfolds its story in the verses.

I played this once in a middle of DJ set at a club called Visage a great long time ago, and although the crowd thinned a bit since it wasn’t a familiar ‘New Wave’ song to them, the people who were really there to dance embraced it with their tribal dance moves. One passionate dancer of my acquaintance in particular seemed thrilled that something “obscure” — compared to the reliable 80s dance favourites — had made it into the set list.

This was followed with “Glimmer,” the first hint we’ve had thus far of Foxx’s growing interest in ambient music. “Glimmer” doesn’t really qualify per se, but it casts a serenity spell with its backing curtain of sound. The simple but building melody and the lack of vocals proved, very satisfactorily, that Foxx doesn’t need his vocals to take you to another place.

Speaking of which, the next track, “Mr. No,” is also an instrumental — a curious choice to bunch them together a third of the way through this disc, but I’ll take it. This one was very different, with kind of an “electronic jazz” feel (another “new” sound style at the time), with Foxx’s reliable undercurrent of discord and menace.

The periodic “singing” from R2-D2 on the track (not really, but the same synth used for that bot’s “voice”) ties it nicely to the concurrently-released The Empire Strikes Back.

“Young Love” ends the instrumental break with a roaring return to the Ultravox! days, and it is a glorious return to form. Maybe it’s the phrase “rockwrok” and the rhyming couplets, maybe it’s the full-throated singing we very rarely get here among this album’s many associated tracks, but at a guess I’d say this was a song from his notebook they didn’t get to before his departure from the band, and … well, why waste it? It might well have benefitted further from a proper band treatment, but I think it’s perfect just as it is.

Then, “20th Century” goes in a different direction — John Foxx does a John Lydon (!!) style vocal on a track that had an “underdeveloped demo” feel, given the minimal lyrics — essentially just the title, with an occasional “It’s the” thrown in before it from time to time. It’s got a great hammering bass line, an urgent beat, and a nice mix of what I’ll call SynthFarts™. If “Young Love” had been a single, this probably would have been the b-side.

Speaking of underdeveloped demos, “My Face” is a song that later got reworked into the superior “No-One Driving.” This version is obviously rougher, but we finally get what seems like some uncredited Robin Simon treated guitar in another number that could have ended up with Ultravox! in an alternate reality. Lyrically it’s quite thin, but the beat and guitar are great to hear.

This moves us along into another small but notable “room” in this exhibition — single and radio edit versions.
The radio edit of “Underpass” gets an entire minute shaved off, which seems like vandalism but makes it even more urgent. The melody for this dystopian hymn is so simple a child with any level of harmonic understanding could play it on a toy piano, and yet 43 years later, the haunting effect of the synth wash and performance combine to give it an aura that never leaves you.

For the single version of “No-One Driving,” there’s been some work done on it that amounts to a notable variation, so I’m very glad it’s here. Compared to the album version, the single sports doubled vocals for harmony, and a synthetic female wail matched to the synth sounds in spots.

There’s also a more treated use of the “handclap” sounds here, and some more-prominent piano in places. Overall, it’s considerably clearer and brighter than the album version — perfect for AM radio.

This version also uses the more radio-acceptable line “Someone’s gone missing in the sheets,” rather than “liquid.” It’s an overall improvement in most areas, retaining that relentless beat, apart from the ending.

Both the album and single version end with a piano effect like a bell tolling, but the single version finale is sparser and slower; Foxx beefed it up with more echo, sped it up a little, and added some treated “drone” effect to the end for the album version. This means the “single” is three seconds shorter.

We now move into the “alternative version” room for the final third of the disc. For me, noting that this CD set had the “alternative” (read “early”) version of “Like a Miracle” was the most exciting single entry apart from the third disc’s considerable list of previously-unheard songs.

Foxx later turned this into quite a masterpiece a couple of albums after this one, in 1983’s The Golden Section, and this “rough sketch” of it isn’t a patch on the finished version. For starters, Foxx speaks it more than sings it except for the chorus, and the vocal seems very pulled back compared to the passion of the future album version.

It also has a different “oh-ho-ho” call, and the arrangement heard here wouldn’t have been past Jona Lewie to create if Lewie’d had more and better synth gear. It’s still clearly a great song, so I’m glad it got held back and polished for later release. I should mention that the version heard here is identical to the “demo version” I first heard many years ago, but considerably cleaned up for this CD release!

“A New Kind of Man (Alternative Version)” was another treat. You get more of a “spy” vibe from this thanks to the “Peter Gunn” riff, and honestly had it existed at the time, it would have made a good theme tune for the late-60s Patrick Magoohan equally-brilliant TV series “The Prisoner.” This also has a fully different vocal performance, with more urgency and darkness to it.

The last of the “Alternative Versions” on this disc is “He’s a Liquid,” which starts identically to the released version, and its not until the end of the first verse that we hear a significant difference: ethereal background vocals (from John) following the melody line, along with a somewhat different lead performance, not to mention a brighter EQ setting.

The last three tracks are marginally “extended” mixes of the songs “Plaza,” “Underpass,” and an “extended fade” version of “Blurred Girl,” the latter of which is appearing here for the very first time, as far as I’m aware. More of any of these great tracks is welcome, but I think “Underpass” benefits the most, because it’s just a song I don’t want to end, ever.

Next time: NOW how much would you pay? But wait, there’s more!