NME review of Oxford Point gig, 7
Nov 98Melody Maker review of London Upstairs At The Garage gig, 27 May 98
Nightshift review of Oxford Point gig, 25 April 98 (our first gig)
Twee Kitten review of Oxford Point gig, 25 April 98
NME review of Oxford Point, 7 Nov 98
Some people never grow up. Twelve years on from her time in cutie-pop pioneers Talulah Gosh, Marine Research's Amelia Fletcher is still bouncing around the stage like a schoolgirl on her first date. Later ex-Razorcut Greg Webster, now of Sportique, will pine like a lovesick adolescent for the girl he once walked home from school.
Tonight's showcase for bedroom-based label Where It's At Is where You Are is no indie wimp revival, though. It's a reminder of how fresh and innocent pop can still sound. Marine Research will still wear their Pastels badges with price but tonight they're gorgeously kooky, mixing lo-fi electronica with a breathless folky jangle, coming on like Belle & Sebastian's carefree cousins on 'The End Of The Affair'. 'Queen B' is what Blondie might have sounded like if they'd been to Oxford Uni instead of New York's School Of Hard Knocks. It's all deliciously naive, occasionally ramshackle but somehow perfect. Ronan Munro
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Melody Maker review of London Upstairs At The Garage gig, 27 May 98
Marine Research? That be oral sex. Marine Research? That'll be the band formerly known as Heavenly - diet pop punk with hairslides. Now something's changed. Keyboardist Cathy is wearing a badge emblazoned with legend "crap indie band" - the cunning linguist - when they're nothing of the sort. And DJ Downfall, enlisted for drumming duties, comes away with his street cred intact.
They're snapping at the heels of Kenickie in the pop maturity market, all dressed up with keyboards, quietly confident guitar and whispered references to Sixties soul. "Queen B" is an understated gem, the kind of wistful, jazz-tinged tune The Cardigans hide on B-sides.
The giddy joie de vivre of the old Heavenly is still alive in songs like "Parallel Horizontal" which ought to win an Ivor Novello award for handclaps. It's a big, soul stomper that wouldn't be out of place on a Velocette set list, vocalist Amelia singing of sex - and pervy sex at that. Excuse me while I choke on my lollipop.
Two years on from the birth of grrrl power and these cutie veterans are now more "hello, boys" than hymen. Marine Research? Infectious, but well worth investigating. Ben Clancy
Nightshift review of Oxford Point gig, 25 April 98 (our first gig)
A dozen years ago, Talulah Gosh were the reigning monarchs of cutie cool, with their energetic mixture of punk rock and girl group pop, surfing to indie stardom on their own sparkling wave of boy-meets-girl/Ramone-meets-Shirelle enthusiasm. Leaving their plastic shades on the beach for Riot Grrl to pick up, Talulah Gosh split in 1988 - but the pop didn’t stop. They reappeared as Heavenly in 1989, keeping things melodic and stylish throughout the tail-end of baggy, the onset of Nirvana-be and the first stirrings of Brit. Then, in 1996, with their fourth album on the verge of release, tragedy struck with the untimely death of drummer Mathew, whose witty, sardonic presence is still much missed around these parts.
So now Amelia, Peter, Rob and Cathy are back onstage with drummer DJ Downfall and it’s two years later and it all feels a little bit scary to be honest. Not least for them. The new name, nearly as long as their musical pedigree, is not exactly catchy and the publicity has been kept to a whisper. Nerves are in evidence - and that’s just the audience who seem to hold their breath for the first two songs while everybody gets their bearings. Luckily, as Cornershop have proved, pop rebirth can be a big success and we quickly discover that Marine Salvage & Research Limited are not a second, or seventh, Heavenly. Only one song is reminiscent of that earlier incarnation in cheery subject matter and 4/4 guitar-driven feel. Otherwise, DJD and Rob luxuriate in more complex rhythms, taking in Dave Brubeck and Stereolab on the way while Cath’s keyboards now dominate the sound. Her skills, already notable, have broadened considerably: still melodic but also embracing a wealth of atmospherics that add an other-worldly dimension to the songs. Peter’s guitar is mostly low in the mix and understated, even when he activates his new wah-wah pedal - Jimi plays, mm, jazz!
Amelia, now guitar-less is as charismatic as ever, her vocal delivery is even more subtle and more soulful these days and it soon becomes evident that we have been transported to a 60s French disco at midnight with Serge Gainsbourg and Francoise Hardy, cocktails and melancholy, high camp and low lighting. But, just when it seems to be verging on nightclubbing nonchalance and ‘easy’ irony, they show you the way to a small back room off the bar and you realise that the true heart of these songs is a much quieter, more vulnerable place than the trappings might suggest. Belle & Sebastian? Bacharach & David? Whatever, Amelia and band show themselves capable of conjuring an emotional depth that is rare in pop music, especially the last song tonight (thinly disguised, but clearly about Mathew) and I don’t think I’m the only person here with a tear in my eye by the end. Harry Lime
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Twee Kitten review of Oxford Point gig, 25 April 98
Marine Salvage and Research Limited at The Point. Oxford, England. April 25, 1998. by . >Before shoegaze gave us Ride and Chapterhouse; before britpop gave us Supergrass; and long before the million-dollar melancholy of Radiohead; Oxford, England was home to the infamous Talulah Gosh and their shambling pop-punk shenanigans in the mid-80s, then they mutated into the beautiful butterflies that were Heavenly, unwilling monarchs of the international pop scene. Heavenly ended with the death of drummer Matthew Fletcher. All us fans mourned his passing, and then mourned the eventual fall of Heavenly and Matthew's own punk band, Bugbear. But now they're back for a third time, this time as Marine Salvage and Research Limited. Tonight I am here for their "first ever gig." (It even says so on the set list we nicked!)
Everyone's here. But don't think that tonight is the first time they've played in ages. They've all been busy. Cathy's been fronting the McTells and calling themselves Gilroy; Amelia recently sang backing vocals at a Yummy Fur gig; Pete's been playing guitar for a lounge-pop band the Family Way; and Rob has teamed up with ex-Razorcut Gregory Webster in their band Sportique. Even youngblood John, the new drummer, has a single out as alter-ego DJ Downfall.
The first thing I notice is that there isn't as many people here as I expected. Marine Salvage and Research Limited have kept this gig deliberately low-key, even opening for local sound experimentalists Cody. Amelia is noticeably nervous and shy -- she can't even say the entire band name before they launch into the first song fof their eight-song set "End of the Affair." The first thing that hits you is the rhythm -- it's jazzy and funky! More than half the songs are like this. I love it. Amelia gets down with her bad self and plays the melodica (A la Calvin Johnson) on most of the songs. The fourth song, "Parallel Horizontal" sounds a tiny bit like 'Emperor Tomato Ketchup' Stereolab, but with the familiar heaven sent harmonies of Cathy and Amelia. My head's bobbing and I'm smiling. They don't play any of the old Heavenly songs, mind you, though a couple of songs could've easily fit on the last album. This is not Heavenly, get it? This is a brand new band, with a brand new name and brand new music to match. Amelia's even got brand new lyrics printed on sheets of paper at her feet. The band end the set with the wistful ballad "Yes, Yes, Yes." They announce that this is the last song and inside I think "no, no, no!" and "more, more, more!" Needless to say, the show was one of those wish-you-were-here kind of moments.
To top the night off, me and my friend Shannon were talking about all the cool bands that have come out of Oxford on the bus ride home when the bus stopped and picked up Radiohead's Thom Yorke! He got on and sat across from us sending the bus load of post-clubbers into a frenzy of whispers, but that's another story! Raoul De La Cruz
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