From Duncan's Parcel of Pop (Part 3)

Among the many treasures Duncan sent me was this four-song EP from the Claim that's sometimes referred to as the "Mrs. Shepherd" 7" (shown above). It's an unusual release for a few reasons. First, it came out in 1993, the year after the lads called it quits. Second, all four songs were released five years earlier on their much celebrated album 'Boomy Tella,' via Esurient Communications. Third, and perhaps most bizarre on first glance, this small retrospective of sorts was the brainchild of one Brian Kirk, founder of the Bus Stop Label in Iowa City, Iowa, USA. I say on first glance because Kirk had a passion for this kind of indie pop coming out of the UK, and he helped Americans like me hear acts like the Mayfields and St. Christopher during this same time period. I want to get to Duncan's words about the Claim straightaway. This is one of his most beloved bands, and his passion can be felt all over the page. I think you'll agree today's scribe has a future in this business. Take it away, Duncan...

"Just now, a lot of people seem to be giving up on pop (as in the real stuff, the pure!), or giving time to people who have given in, but I stick by my dreams and ideals." -- Kevin Pearce, 1989

In the autumn of 1988 I left home and moved south to study in Birmingham. In many ways, the timing could not have been worse, for this was the beginning of a long fallow period for the UK underground music scene. The previous 12 months had witnessed a whole golden generation of Manchester bands (Laugh!, Bodines, James, Stockholm Monsters, Happy Mondays, A Certain Ratio, Big Flame...) falling apart, losing their way or blowing it big style. A similar malaise had struck many of the bands to emerge from the Living Room/Creation inspired explosion of two years previously. The newer independent pop combos seemed hellbent on conservatism, insularity and compromise. More worryingly was the return of a most unwelcome strain of rockism, infecting and disfiguring some of the brightest lights of the '80s (Hurrah!, Primal Scream, REM, Julian Cope), and running rampant amongst the highly touted new bands like House of Love and MBV. Other heroes (Kevin Rowland, Vic Godard, Martin Bramah) had simply disappeared from view.

True, there remained enough of those fiercely independent. wildhearted outsiders out there to keep things alive and interesting. But the vital and visionary sounds of McCarthy, Wolfhounds, Last Party, Felt, Benny Profane, Shack et al were being marginalised and ignored. I was an 18 year old desperately in need of a new soul vision.

And then, in early 1989, something very special arrived in the post to reignite my dreams; a shiny 7" EP ("Wait and See") by a band called the Claim. Accompanying it was a typically fiery and impassioned letter from label supremo Kevin Pearce. For the next two years, the Claim and the other Esurient bands became my new obsessions.

I searched out the Claim's earlier releases. Very soon the 'Boomy Tella' LP became the record of choice for me and my flatmate Mark. It's the record that became the soundtrack of our time at university. It's a record I still listen to and love to this day. These words Kevin Pearce penned at the time say it much better than I could:

"Few LPs ever seem as though they are meant to be. They tend to be gawky, uneven, unnatural, insufficient. 'Boomy Tella' is an exception. There's nothing there to taint, or detract from its unique beauty. I love it! I love the way it's finely balanced. The way it's sinewy and substantial but understated and light on its feet. The way there's something to get your teeth into but something you can't quite put your finger on. The way it's so English like Ray Davies, Vic Godard but altogether strange somehow. The way I keep coming back to it like a tongue comes back to a loose tooth. Most of all I love the way 'Not So Simple Sharon Says' starts as much as I love the way 'Waterloo Sunset' starts."

Kinks, Vic Godard. These were the common reference points for the Claim. But for me, the 'Boomy Tella' sound was a natural successor to the June Brides. Not in any obvious "spiky guitars and violas" kind of way. Rather, think of how the slightly unusual rhythms on songs like 'Down By the Chimney' or 'On My Way' can unsettle and knock you off balance. Or how there is something strange going on just beneath the surface of the seemingly humdrum everyday worlds of Not So Simple Sharon or Mrs Shepherd. Something going on that's not quite right. And then go and listen to the June Brides' 'Cold', 'Comfort' or 'Heard You Call'. THAT'S what I mean. There's an attention to detail and a stubborn individuality on display that sets these two bands firmly apart.

Mark and I started taking every opportunity to travel down to London to attend a series of Esurient showcase events. Small upstairs rooms in pubs dotted around the West End. Maybe 50 or 60 like minded souls for company. Three button jackets, button-down shirts, black levis, Dr Marten shoes, short back and sides. Two bands playing 30-minute sets of revolutionary, intense expressions of the deepest soul. And then a mad rush back across to the city to King's Cross for the 11:35PM coach home to Birmingham.

I saw the Claim five times between 1989 and 1992, playing alongside fellow travellers Emily, Hellfire Sermons, Jasmine Minks, Jactars, Last Party. I would rate at least three of these as being amongst the best 10 live shows I have ever witnessed.

By 1992 it was all over. Esurient released its last salvo of explosive singles, A Turntable Friend put out one final Claim 7" and then they were gone.

But a year later, this EP appeared on the US Bus Stop label. Four tracks taken from the then five years old 'Boomy Tella' LP. I've never really understood why, but it's a lovely item to own. A particular delight are the sleeve notes on the back. Four short pen pictures of the band members. An answer to the question of why David Arnold "holds his guitar like a machine gun". A chance to ponder whether David Read is "mean and moody poet or happy-go-lucky playboy". The chance to discover that bassist John was once a member of the "Devon Contingent"; a "notorious gang of Claim fans famed for their dedication and support". I saw the first show John played with the Claim -- I recall it was also the night they premiered "Sporting Life," one of my favourite Claim songs. I also seem to remember Kevin telling me John was once a member of the Visitors, or am I imagining all this?

Hopefully everyone who reads this article already has the reissue of 'Boomy Tella'. If not, get on to it right now. And for anyone interested in the Claim's story, I highly recommend Dan William's excellent 'A Jumped-Up Pantry Boy' blog. Finally a big thank you to Mr Mark Stratford Baker for the use of his Claim photos taken at the King and Queen, Foley Street, W1 in the summer of 1990, and to Kevin Pearce for introducing me in the first place to the wonderful world of the Claim.

What I tell 'ya? Good stuff, eh? The big news on the Claim is they are back. As Duncan mentioned, 'Boomy Tella' was reissued last year, amd there was a new album in 2019 as well. Of course, you already knew this as both of these were rated hightly on my favorite albums and reissues lists back in December. The Claim has popped up on these pages a few times through the years, but this post is the one I like the most. Oh, and Duncan, I have a collection of songs by the Visitors called 'Miss' that lists a "Jon Cleary" as a memeber on the liner notes. Same guy? Was the first name misspelled? Is anyone out there who can shed some more light? Here are two songs that appeared on the 1993 four-song EP...

Mrs. Shepherd
Down By the Chimney