The Jam: The Gift - 1982
"I feel we have achieved all we can together as a group. I mean this both musically and commercially" - Paul Weller
Released in March 1982, this album signalled the beginning of the end for The Jam as Paul Weller was no doubt hatching his Style Council project in his mind.
Weller used horn players on this album as his Motown-Stax influences grew stronger. The traditional Bruce Foxton (bass) and Rick Buckler (drums) rhythm section seemed less integral to The Jam's sound on this one, despite some high points - Foxton's bassline on A Town Called Malice's intro for one.
The album also suffered from a modicum of self-importance, presented as it was in a candy-striped paper bag (does anyone still have their copy of that, I wonder?), proclaiming that this was, indeed, a "gift". Somehow it made you feel as if we should be grateful for this offering. All marketing hype, of course, but when an altruistic, honest band like The Jam fell prey to such things...The Northern Soul dancer image on the inner cover was a good choice, though. This album had considerable Northern Soul influence.
Let's check out those disused milk floats and empty milk bottles...
Happy Together started things off. After a brief spoken intro that stated "for those of you watching in black and white, this one is in Technicolor..." a barked out, reverby cry of "babyyy!" launches us, Noddy Holder-style, into a punchy sixties pop-influenced rocker with a more contemporary pounding drum backing. For some reason, it has always reminded me of Madness, for no apparent reason, as there's no ska in it whatsoever.The 'b' side to the A Town Called Malice single, Precious was a worthy first stab at funk that left some early punky fans of the band a bit in two minds. Did they really like this funk stuff? Come on, not really. They would certainly have to learn to like it though, particularly if they stuck with Weller into The Style Council phase of his career. The band convincingly show off their funk chops on the extended instrumental outro. I like the track far more now than I did at the time. I remember with shame throwing a huge sulk at my girlfriend at the time because she preferred this to Malice. How could she, how bloody well could she? Because she was a groovy little funker who liked to dance her God-given ass off, that's why, and this suited her right down to the ground, just as Kid Creole & The Coconuts' Stool Pigeon did too.
....so The Jam asked, and talking of funk, a catchy little drum intro leads into this retro-sounding rant against "that Prince Philip" who "tells us we've got to work harder". Basically it is a succinct and melodic gripe against privilege and snobbery and failure to recognise the dignity of labour.
Trans-Global Express was a punchy stomper that continued the funk experimentation, its hook directly lifted from the Northern Soul obscurity So Is The Sun by World Column. Its vocals are, unfortunately, so low down in the mix as to be almost buried. If it is was deliberate, and one can only presume it was, or it would have been changed, it was an odd move. Pertinently, when it was played live, the vocals came across loud and clear, turning it into a much punchier song, so there you go.Running On The Spot is lively enough, a bit similar to Happy Together, and suitably breathless to match its title, but to be brutally honest, it is nothing special.
It was fashionable to record slightly ska-like brassy instrumentals like Circus - I'm thinking of Pigbag's Papa's Got A Brand New Pigbag. It's ok as a brief, bouncy interlude, I guess, but its presence also hints at a lack of other material or a wilful refusal to use it - A Solid Bond In Your Heart or Tales From The Riverbank, anyone?
The Planner's Dream Goes Wrong was an aberration that was a bit of a calypso-influenced mess, let's be honest here shall we - not one of The Jam's better efforts, and a genuine candidate for their worst-ever song. even the "ai-ai" whoop after the line "coitus interruption 'cos of next door's rows" adds to the general level of embarrassment the song generates. In case you're wondering, the song is about sixties/early seventies high-rise housing projects. All very laudable, but listen to it and you'll probably agree with me, it is a naff song best forgotten.
Carnation was another of Weller's delightfully simple love songs, but one that this time was laced with a Lennon-esque cynicism - "if you gave me a fresh carnation, I would only crush its tender petals, with me you'll have no escape, and at the same time there'll be nowhere to settle...". Charming. It was a pointer to Weller's state of mind at the time, however, as he no doubt struggled with his personal and musical relationships. It was no surprise that he split with his girlfriend and The Jam around the same time. Just when the album was getting into a bit of a rut, along comes this piece of Motown bassline-driven Jam glory.
Town Called Malice was, of course, a huge chart topping single. Its infectious beat slightly masked the fact that it was a dark song that dealt with the daily grind of urban working-class life in graphic, depressing detail. Other tracks with a similar bassline were Hall & Oates' Maneater, The Clash's Hitsville UK, Phil Collins' Two Hearts and the Motown original that inspired them all, Diana Ross & The Supremes' You Can't Hurry Love.The Gift was the last track on the Jam's last album, and the last song they ever played live, at Brighton in December 1982, is a sort of energetic rock meets Northern Soul dense rock-soul groove. It features some fine Rick Buckler drumming and similarly impressive organ from guest musician Pete Wilson. Other than that, though, as a kiss-off from such a seminal band, it was just a tad underwhelming. Maybe Malice should have been a worthier final track?
Anyway, that was it, after a couple more great singles in The Bitterest Pill (I Ever Had To Swallow) and Beat Surrender Paul Weller pulled the plug on The Jam, leaving poor old Bruce Foxton and Rick Buckler high and dry. Buckler took it the hardest, it is said.
One could see which direction Paul Weller was going here, with the music on this final album. What was amazing, however, was that he called the whole thing to a halt virtually overnight. Five great years. Maybe, like The Beatles, The Clash, Fawlty Towers and The Office, he was right. The Jam left a great musical legacy. We will never know what would have become of them. Would they have become The Style Council anyway?
What is clear was that Weller wanted to diversify considerably in ways that the other two did not. He was still comparatively young and his life was just growing in a a different direction. It happens to all of us.
On that single were some ill-considered soul covers in Edwin Starr's War (two versions exist, the "first version", which is twice as long, is much better), Curtis Mayfield's Move On Up and The Chi-Lites' Stoned Out Of My Mind (with a pretty dreadful Weller falsetto vocal), together with an odd, short, plodding but weirdly atmospheric number called Shopping, about just that, going shopping "with clothes at the top of my list...". The soul material gave a huge hint as to what was floating Weller's boat at the time, along with the non-album rarity, the afore-mentioned Jam version of A Solid Bond In Your Heart. Another noteworthy thing is the cover of that single which prototyped what would be the instantly recognisable Style Council artwork and graphic style.
The 'b' side of Just Who Is The 5 O' Clock Hero? was the underrated, catchy mid-pace rock/soul of The Great Depression.
The Bitterest Pill had a great 'b' side too in Pity Poor Alfie/Fever - the latter was a cover of the Peggy Lee number that is better than you would have imagined it to be, and there was also a "swing version" of Pity Poor Alfie, full of brass breaks, which is superb.
Also knocking around from the time were covers of Ben E. King's Stand By Me and Brenda Holloway's Every Little Bit Hurts as Weller's soul obsession burgeoned. They are both ok, but somehow not what one felt The Jam were meant to be. The latter actually dated from August 1981 and was one of the first signs of a change in direction. I have mentioned it here along with the rest of the soul covers, however. Interestingly, it was also covered by The Clash.
Also presumed from the sessions for The Gift was Weller's brassy, upbeat Walking In Heaven's Sunshine, a track that certainly should have made the album at the expense of either Circus or The Planner's Dream Gone Wrong or if not just added anyway. It is a song typical of The Jam's soully, horn-powered direction of the era,
