Annonce : Vivien Goldman – Resolutionary (Songs 1979-1982)
Sortie en Mai, on en reparle forcement
There’s a myth about music critics that says we are frustrated, wannabe performers. Evidence to the contrary: Vivien Goldman. Ever since she migrated from pitching editors on the little-known music of Robert Nesta Marley to becoming one of the foremost chroniclers of the perfect storm of reggae, punk, hiphop and Afro-Beat, the London-born, New York-based Goldman has made documenting music her primary life work. But between 1979-82, Goldman was also a working musician, creating songs that, years later, would be sampled by The Roots and Madlib. These rare girl grooves are now collected for the first time on Resolutionary, courtesy of Staubgold Records.
Resolutionary takes us through Vivien’s first three musical formations: first as a member of experimental British New Wavers The Flying Lizards; next as a solo artist, with her single “Launderette,” featuring postpunk luminaries; and then as half of the Parisian duo Chantage, with Afro-Parisian chanteuse Eve Blouin. Goldman’s synthesis of post-colonial rhythms and experimental sounds are threaded together by her canary vocal tones and womanist themes. Her eclectic musical crew included PiL’s John Lydon, Keith Levene and Bruce Smith; avant- gardists Steve Beresford and David Toop; The Raincoats’ Vicky Aspinall; the mighty Robert Wyatt; Zaire’s Jerry Malekani; Manu Dibango’s guitarist; and Viv Albertine, then of her good friends, the Slits. The majority of the tracks were produced by dubmaster Adrian Sherwood, and Resolutionary channels the history of a time when the bon-vivant voice of music was in the air, and Vivien Goldman was its eyes, ears, and mouth.
When she wasn’t writing, broadcasting or filming – or even when she was – Vivien always sang. She sang in a lilting, clear-toned soprano honed during childhood, when she and her two sisters would harmonize with their violinist father. Spend even a little time with Vivien, and she is likely to burst into song. “People knew I sang if they were around me, because I was always doing it,” she says cheerfully. “It’s just inside you. I hadn’t thought of singing as a career; I was always doing it as family.” Goldman’s talent did not go unnoticed by the many musicians with whom she was surrounded, particularly in the late 1970s bohemian enclave of Ladbroke Grove, where punk had loosened tongues and dub was freeing body and soul.