Orange Juice
Lovelorn, naive and vibrant, these foppish lads from the
middle-class Glasgow suburb of Bearsden fashioned post-Byrds
jangle and skinny white soul into their own nervy, lo-fi brand of
romantic pop, paving the way for The Smiths,
Belle & Sebastian and Teenage
Fanclub.
Orange Juice heralded the demise of post-punk, proposing a
life-affirming mindset in which 'pop' wasn't a dirty word and it
was cool to sing love songs. As much as they worshipped Lou
Reed and his Gretsch guitar, there was no room for heroin or methedrine
in their world; they barely even touched alcohol.

Edwyn Collins wore plastic sandals and a Davy Crockett hat.
Guitarist and co-singer James Kirk sported a Barbour wax jacket.
Bassist David McClymont's trousers and hair appeared to date from
the Spanish Civil War, and drummer Steven Daly looked like the
neat, bookish civil servant he was. It was a rebellion against
rock's macho wardrobe, and it wound their rivals up a treat.
What Orange Juice had over the majority of Glasgow bands was
their record label buddy Alan Horne. 50% neurotic weirdo and 50%
genius pop aesthetician (0% business strategist) he had founded
Postcard Records to release Orange Juice's Falling and
Laughing (1980). Crushed by his latest crush, the
humiliated and heartbroken Edwyn Collins concludes: "What can
I do but learn to laugh at myself?"
Hot on its heels came the galloping Blue Boy (1980)
- a boisterous gallop that added a touch of Dylan and Neil
Young, with discrete swells of keyboard and a
verging-on-psychedelic guitar solo.
The American sound of the single inaugurated a whole tradition
of Scottish outfits, from Lloyd Cole &
The Commotions to Teenage Fanclub, who looked admiringly
across the Atlantic - their gaze, ironically, often falling on
Anglophiles like Big Star.
Suddenly - thanks to bravura notices in the press - Orange
Juice were a hip item.
Simply Thrilled Honey (1980) was gorgeously fey
and wondrously eccentric in structure, climbing a hill at the end
just to rush down in a breathless tumble, while the fourth single,
Poor Old Soul (1981), reverted to the disco-punk of Falling
and Laughing - all flustered rhythm guitar and a walking bass line.
But it was far better produced.
This was Orange Juice's most concerted attempt at a mainstream
hit, but while it topped the independent chart effortlessly it
stopped short at number 80 in the "real" chart.
The group's sound was still too ramshackle for mainstream
radio, and Postcard lacked the muscle to get the hits Alan Horne
craved.
With album tracks already in the can, Orange Juice Mk
I were already falling apart anyway; Attention had made Horne
insufferable. Collins wanted commercial success. Daly did too, but
the band would oust him anyway.
Kirk resisted a switch to Polydor and sabotaged an
A&R-attended show by turning up in an undertaker's coat and
playing without his guitar plugged in. But Orange Juice did sign
to Polydor and released the album You Can't Hide Your Love
Forever (1982).
Immediately Daly and Kirk were gone and Collins' brief chart
pop moment beckoned, while the volatile Horner released great
records by Aztec Camera before
securing a cadet label - Swamplands - with Polygram.
Orange Juice went on to inspire a flotilla of limp-wristed
indie bands from The Wedding Present
to Belle & Sebastian -
some actively courting the adjective "twee".
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