REVIEWS

INTERVIEWS

LOVE YOUR SELF ABUSE (USA version) - Album
Perhaps you remember Glasgow, Scotland's Baby Chaos when it toured with Elastica back when "Connected" heralded the return of U.K. rock to the American scene. The two made a good pair. Whereas Elastica unapologetically used (and eventually even credited) riffs from Wire and the Stranglers, Baby Chaos takes a more free-form style, but the band is still reminiscent of its predecessors. The band starts a bit of the nasal anger and hooks from Smashing Pumpkins, and adds some of the dextrously choppy guitar made popular by Helmet, mixed with a bit of sensuality; so that its sound is both known and unfamiliar. With their second full-length, Love Your Self Abuse, the four lads continue to carve out their own niche with melodies, passion, loud guitars, and lots of catchy but twisted lyrics about pretty girls. Any of the first three tracks ("She's In Pain", "Hello" and "Kicking Things") will sound great on the radio, but good things come to those who wait: The longish "Mental Bruising" buried in the middle of the CD, is a smoldering fire that builds to a thundering blaze by the end. Other worthwhile cuts include the poppy "Swimming Trunks" and the manic "Rearrange You." Creating a sound that's both varied and focused, Baby Chaos should make more than a few waves this side of the pond with Love Your Self Abuse.

(Tad Hendrickson, April 28 1997)

LOVE YOUR SELF ABUSE (USA version) - Album
By far one of this year’s most clever album titles, Love Your Self Abuse marks Baby Chaos’ debut for Atlantic Records and the bands sophomore release. Sort of a Britpop band with a Generation X attitude and a severe shortage of Prozac, Baby Chaos is one of Scotland’s most talented and boisterous exports. With song titles like Mental Bruising for Beginners, Confessions of a Teenage Pervert and Rearrange You - not to mention the title track - it’s a safe assumption that this isn’t an album of sappy love songs. But don’t be fooled into thinking this is another poor knock-off of every ‘70s punk band to come out of Britain. Not at all. Although the first single, Kicking Things, is every inch an anthem for a genX attitude of apathy, the songs on this album do, in fact, rely heavily on melodies. Of course the sardonic Scottish wit encountered in the lyrics as well as the metal-edged aggression added to the power-pop keeps the ever-dreaded boredom at bay.

(LT, April 1997)

MEAL HAMMER

"Ignoramus" - Reviewed by Bruce Dickinson and Alex Dickson (Skunkworks)
Another cracking tune from one of the most underrated bands on the face of the planet. Britrock, and a fitting single to accompany the delayed appearance of Bruce's Jock guitarist Alex, who actually demoed with Baby Chaos when he was a mere 12 years old!
BRUCE: "This is really rather good! This is the best one so far."
ALEX: "The singer is a complete star if you ever see him live. He was 16 years old when I first saw him. They still have the same energy, they've just slowly perfected their act."

(Squadron Leader Silver - Aug '96)

"Ignoramus" - SINGLE OF THE WEEK
After months of ridicule, Deputy Ed Mike Peake has finally been vindicated. The new Baby Chaos single is, in fact, the dog's bollocks. "Ignoramus" is a breezy blast of Britrock which perfectly complements the current heatwave and would have even your most miserable aged relative skipping around the lounge with excitement. The guitars twist and turn and the chorus is so unbelievably infectious that you'll be singing it in you sleep for the rest of your life. This week's most essential purchase. Don't die of ignorance.

(22 June '96)

LOVE YOUR SELF ABUSE - Album
Up until now, Baby Chaos have chiefly been known for their incendiary live performances. Their debut album, 1994's "Safe Sex, Designer Drugs & The Death Of Rock'n'Roll", though an instantly memorable surge of melody and power, for some unfathomable reason seemed to pass everyone by. Thankfully, the band have conspicuously failed to implode under the weight of media indifference. Thankfully, because "Love Your Self Abuse" surpasses its predecessor in its mastery of the art of the manic pop thrill.

Slightly rougher than before, Baby Chaos maintain their penchant for the sharpest of hooks while matching even The Wildhearts for wide-eyed pop metal abandon. The singles, "Hello" and the forthcoming "Ignoramus", stand out as outrageously infectious pop masking a thoroughly debilitating misery, but it's when Baby Chaos go in deeper, plunge headlong into skull-splitting noise that they really come into their own. "Mental Bruising For Beginners", "The Sensual Art Of Suffocation" and "Confessions Of A Teenage Pervert" - the titles give a fair idea of the band's growing sense of isolation and grim, grim humour. More than a little of what you fancy.

(The Stud Brothers - 25 May 1996)

LOVE YOUR SELF ABUSE - Album
The table is heaving with fag butt vol-au-vents, the stereo is pumping out '70s poonk classics, and the brown ale is flowing like an open wound. Congratulations! Your Britrock party is a success. Camped by the stereo are Terrorvision, while Ginger Wildheart is trying to make off with a six-pack. But where are Baby Chaos? To the kitchen, then, where Baby Chaos are protesting at being lumped in with the aforementioned utterly gruesome musical 'scene', and - if 'Love Your Self Abuse' is anything to go by - where they are preparing for a scrap.

A bouncing thrash racket may be the recipe for chart success, but Baby Chaos are not interested in such populism. The reason? Chris Gordon is not a cheerful fellow. With titles like 'Confessions Of A Teenage Pervert' and 'The Sensual Art Of Suffocation', wherein frontman Gordon bellows, "It's unlikely that you'll like me," he's pretty spot on. Of course, there was a reason for their invite in the first place. Baby Chaos can fraggle and pogo as hard as their fellow partygoers although the spirit of a pre-fiddly Wonder Stuff unwisely hovers over much of the proceedings. But Gordon's after far darker stuff... Song after song oozes self-hatred and alienation and, while it can go somewhat awry ("Leave me be/To wallow in my red wine sea" in the whispered 'Mental Bruising' - NO! NO! NO!), Baby Chaos can be sweet despair. Just don't invite them round your house. (6)

(Mike Goldsmith - 25 May 1996)

London Highbury Garage, Thursday, May 2

MOST ROCKING MOMENT - When not-very-wall drummer Davy joins the band onstage for the last two songs.
LEAST ROCKING MOMENT - The end.
BEST ONSTAGE QUOTE "This one's autobiographical "- Chris Gordon launching into "Confessions Of A Teenage Pervert
VERDICT - The start of something hu-uuge. 5/5

Sometimes your mates at Kerrang! get it absolutely, 100 per cent right. Occasionally, even mad scribbler Jason Arnopp hits the nail on the head - as he did when he described Baby Chaos' second album, 'Love Your Self Abuse" as: "easily capable of propelling them from little-known curios to genre-crossing denizens of the nation's charts". What he means is, Baby Chaos are ace. Here, tonight, in London, three-quarters of the explosive Jock quartet are psyching themselves up for their first English gig in ages. Drummer Davy Greenwood is here but won't be playing tonight, because he's got a medical problem - though this never stops him from grinning like a lunatic. He's probably still chuckling at the fact that their Mums have disowned the boys after they said f**k a lot and talked about wanking in a Kerrang! feature.

It's 10.20pm, the Garage is half full, and Baby Chaos are striding purposefully onstage. Frontman Chris Gordon - all red hair, freckles and daft footie top - kicks into 'Rearrange You' and the stage jumps two feet into the air. It's a fizzy punk/pop thing as Chris, bassist Bobby, guitarist Grant and stand-in drummer Stevo, lurch their way through a honey- coated set-list put together in Heaven by God. 'Sperm', 'Ignoramus', 'Go To Hell', brilliant latest single 'Hello', 'Confessions Of A Teenage Pervert'... we get the lot. When 'Love Your Self Abuse', the title track of that classic second album, is aired, we're on a one-way trip to ecstasy. And when Davy strangles his doctor and rushes onstage to take the drums for encores of 'Superpowered' and a blinding version of The Undertones' 'Teenage Kicks', 200 people go mental. Baby Chaos are the perfect Brit band with the ultimate in cool, pop rock savvy. Buy '...Self Abuse', then see them play. You'll love it.

(Mike Peake - 18 May 1996)

"Love Your Self Abuse" - Album (KKKKK out of 5K's)
Three vital ingredients for the blinding modern rock band: arrogance, endless song-writing creativity and the ability to switch moods like some kind of f**ked-up drug addict. Baby Chaos have them all. And then some. The Scots' 1994 debut, "Safe Sex, Designer Drugs And The Death Of Rock And Roll; didn't quite live up to its ambitious title, and despite the excellence of the odd track, it wasn't difficult to contain our excitement at the time. Baby Chaos, or Baby Wildhearts?

"Love Your Self Abuse" is guaranteed to alter that situation. Baby Chaos are now very much their own men. They've broken out of the cot and plunged straight into the knickers of the girl who lives down the road. This is apparent right from the crash-bang-wallop initiation of "She's In Pain", which is quite simply a stunner. Aggressive, touching, disturbing and uplifting, all in two minutes and 20 seconds. "Hello" is better still. Recently released as a single, it easily holds its head up against tough Britrock competition from The Wildhearts' "Sick Of Drugs" and 3 Colours Red's "This Is My Hollywood".

A textbook example of the razor-edged pop song, it features one of the most infectious backing vocals ever to be committed to plastic. "Try Hard To Be Psychic" opens with a quirky tribal stomp not a million miles away from Soundgarden, then spins off on a wholly different plane. The big difference is that where the latter band have arguably lost their drive over the years, Baby Chaos have it dribbling out of their ears. And then there's "Ignoramus". Breathtakingly original and utterly psyched, "Ignoramus" has "brilliant" daubed all aver it in 10-foot-high day-glo capitals. "I'm the last-born ignoramus," sneers Chris Gordon, "I'm the runt that made the A-list.." He sounds pretty self-assured for a simpleton. In contrast, "Re-Arrange" has no sense of balance whatsoever. A joyously psychotic thrash from start to finish, much like Therapy?'s "Knives" it's so in-your-face that it comes close to ripping it clean off.

At the other end of the scale lie subtler moments like "The Penny Dropped", "The Sensual Art Of Suffocation" and the closing mega-epic, "Loud & Clear", three songs where Baby Chaos have everything - music, vibe, whatever - completely under control)l. Indeed, it's the impression Baby Chaos give of being effortlessly in control that makes them so special right now. Many songs - "Hello" included - revive memories of the Manic Street Preachers' classic "Gold Against The Soul" album, or even the same hints of Nirvana's "Nevermind" that lurk in most modern rock music. Like all the best bands, Baby Chaos actually seem to mean something. With the right push, "Love Your Self Abuse" could easily become their "Troublegum", propelling them from little-known curios to genre- crossing denizens of the nation's charts. The ball's in your court.

(Jason Arnopp - April 27 '96)

Q

"Love Your Self Abuse" - Album ***
A neat composition of Therapy?'s guitar rifferama and Terrorvision's sub-metal loony tunes, Scotland's Baby Chaos are the musical equivalent of a quick session on a funfair bouncy castle. Taking a sideways step on from their 1994 debut, Safe Sex, Designer Drugs and the Death of Rock'n'Roll, here they offer even more bursts of inexhaustible energy and an almost staggering capacity for inane hedonism, which they exert over bug-eyed tunes that race frantically to an imaginary finish line. To wit: the equally frenzied Hello and Ignoramus are both stellar examples of turbo-charged, refreshingly daft pop. Where they impress most however, is on Mental Bruising for Beginners, the sole meditative track here, which hints at deeper layers and more complex personalities.

(Nick Duerden - May '96)

"Hello"
Gloriously infectious jagged pop from the Scottish quartet's fabulous forthcoming album "Love Your Self Abuse", "Hello" boasts shiny stop-start guitars, a great chorus and a very fine 'doo doo do doo' backing vocals. A hit, hopefully.

(Paul Brannigan - April '96)

"Love Your Self Abuse" - Album
It's hardly surprising that the significant bands this Scottish quartet have toured with have been Terrorvision and the Wildhearts : Packings post-punk '90s punkish attitude in one pocket and a flair for a great tune and a cracking chorus in the other, when drawn and fired together the combined retort is a musically astute and very palatable mixture of the Wildhearts' snottiness and Terrorvision's pop sensibilities. "Punky, discordant yet melodic as anything you'll ever hear" (that's the press blurb talking, and for a change it's pretty accurate), Baby Chaos are seemingly able to come up with arresting, sharp-edged riffs at the drop of a hat, drape them with classy melodies that imprint themselves in your brain after only one listen, and overall possess a songwriting style that will have countless bands turning green with envy. Add to that the band's considerable performances skills - apart from being good instrumentalists and a drum-tight unit, they also know just when to hit a head-turning chord; their exemplary sense of dynamics, taking the mood from high to low and using the levels in between with real skill - and you're looking at a deserving band with most of the attributes it takes to justifiably label them as having terrific potential. Whether they also have the all important luck remains to be seen.

(Paul Henderson - May '96)

KERRANG

The Splash Club, London - 14 Dec '95
Quite how Baby Chaos acquired a reputation as shoegazing indie types is a mystery, because tonight they rock magnificently. The Scottish quartet got rather swallowed up in the recent race to find Britrock's 'Next Big Thing'. but they've certainly got the song writing class to re-emerge as shining stars for '96. The band have a neat and nasty line in song titles - 'Confessions Of A Teenage Pervert' and 'The Sensual Art Of Suffocation' being personal faves - and the tunes themselves are every bit as wonderful, oozing brash melodies and guitars which are just spoiling for a good scrap. Frontman Chris Gordon is low key, but endearing, spitting out honeyed harmonies on 'Saliva' and 'Go To Hell' as the guitar riffs wrap themselves around your head for fun. 'Golden Tooth' crashes in on adrenaline waves and 'Superpowered' is everything the title suggests and more. Debut single 'Sperm' - a potent reminder of why you should clasp this band to your racing heart - is still a fantastic, uncontrollable spurt of pure joy. Let them wreck your soul in '96.

"Hello Victim"/"Rotten to the Core"
It's dangerous in these dark days to tag any Brit band the next great hope of whatever's going on over there, but a straight line drawn between S*M*A*S*H and Radiohead would so neatly bisect Scotland's Baby Chaos that there's no reason whatsoever why they shouldn't rise above everything else clogging the New Wave of New Wave, and set the next wave awashing while we're still coming to terms with the old one. Manic power pop with enough post-punk reference points to make you feel comfortable, but a thunderous edge which hauls it way above simple retro-viability. Baby Chaos are quite simply the best thing Britain has produced this year. You have been warned.

(Dave Thompson, Jun '95)

Bucketfull of Bands, Barrowlands, Glasgow - 8 May '95
Hanging around seemed like a chore, with an underlying feeling of something Mg should happen. When it did - around the time Travis came on - it was a regular three-courser. ,7ravis provided a mouth- watering taster of Lennon/McCartney harmonies and soft-rock melodies. Our appetites were whetted. Finally, something to chew on. But teeth really started to grind when Baby Chaos graced the hall with their delicious presence. The Baby Chaos Show - that's what it should have been called. They rock, they shock, they wear beige socks. My kisses are not worthy of their feet. How unsatisfying that they were not headlining. The official top of the bill Thrum, with Monica "I'm from Motherwell in the US of A" McQueen fronting, were a mere wafer-thin mint to the Babies' t-bone steak of a main dish.

(Carmen Rosenberg)

SKY

Safe Sex, Designer Drugs and the Death of Rock'n'Roll ****
Thank fuck for this album! Having had to wade through the EEC dull music mountain this month (not reviewed here, of course), the pleasure of finding a record that is not only alive and kicking, but punching and spitting too, is almost indescribable. A four-piece from Stewarton, Scotland, Baby Chaos make a pensive, whiny indie sound that invariably bursts into a balls-to-the-wall, rockblasting sound: part Manic Street Preachers, part Motorhead, part churning hypno-grunge. The playing is tight, the production is imaculate bringing the band's energy into crystalline focus, and the lyrics doubtless provide food for thought for anyone who can sit still long enough to listen to them. The appeal of BC's musical release is best described by frontman Chris Gordon: "It's not violent or angry, it's just screaming with a huge smile on your face."

(Dec '94)

VOX

Safe Sex, Designer Drugs and the Death of Rock'n'Roll
Great title, greater songs. From the start, the sinister sibilance of Chris Gordon's "I am a healthy white boy... ", via 'Go To Hell's' vocoded primal scream, the Glam racket of 'Buzz' and the weird ballad 'Camel', to the final declamatory up-yours that is 'Superpowered', everything about Baby Chaos's debut says: Biff, bang, pow! This - the energy, the attitude - is undoubtedly the product of a year of rigorous touring with the likes of Elastica, Shed 7, Terrorvision and The Wildhearts. Their choice of gigging partners is instructive, too: Baby Chaos have the jugular brawn of Metal and the visceral glee of indie-pop-a-go-go. These they've rammed together with the aid of a production and mixing team of, says Gordon, "a total thrash" pedigree. Grabbing three weeks off last summer, Safe Sex was battered out with the minimum of fuss and the maximum of rock'n'roll. The result is a record of unstinting pogo joy, with the added attraction of baffiingly elliptical lyrics.

(Craig McLean, Dec '94)

THE SUNDAY TELEGRAPH

Safe Sex, Designer Drugs of the Death of Rock 'N' Roll
If Scotland's Baby Chaos were American, they'd be huge by now. They write unpretentious, infectious songs with titles like Sperm, Saliva and Go To Hell; they play chunky, in-your-face guitar and bass riffs; and, as Beavis and Butthead would say, they rock. Over here, unfortunately, we tend to be quite sniffy about honest, home-grown bass/guitar/drums outfits. We want either the sophistication of Suede, the gorblimey parochialism of Blur, or the laddishness of Oasis. For my money, Baby Chaos provide more unashamed fun than any of the above. They're the Pulp Fiction of rock music.

(James Delingpole, 13 Nov '94)

EXCESS, Exeter

"Hello Victim"
It's really quite nice when you get sent a promo of a band like Baby Chaos to listen to. It lets you know that despite a total lack of musical talent, if you have the desire to make it big, there will always be a record label somewhere out there who'll happily sign you up. "But Damian, they wouldn't be signed up if they were crap.", I hear you say. Wigfield was.

(DP, Oct '94)

KERRANG

"Buzz"
YUCK! WHAT a sickly little opus! It sounds like weak tea with about 10 sugars in it! Baby Chaos have already been described a "four cute kids", which unfortunately does quite accurately sum up their weedy sound. Somebody get me a coffee, black, no f**king sugar!

(Feb 26 '94)

NEW MUSICAL EXPRESS

London Islington Smashed!
A couple of decades ago, the televisual ambition of the nuclear family would have been to wrap their brains around Ask The Family. In the bloody 1990s, Mr. and Mrs. Twopointfour's idea of intellectual stimulation is to sit their fat arses on the Telly Addicts sofa. From Robert Robinson to Noel Edmonds in one fell swoop... culture, where art thou? Don't ask Baby Chaos. To them, time is simply there to be kicked around and mugged silly, a disposable concept that deserves bugger all more than a bit of violent pillaging. All delivered with a loving touch, of course. That's why the four Scotsmen of the aural apocalypse abuse so many Ask The Family era sounds without being crippled by the need to reactivate the crap clothes or molly haircuts. If The New Wave Of British New Wave is going to flourish into generic life, Baby Chaos could do worse than represent the Baby Bio in the equation. Already snapped up by East West records, they're the kind of bratty, half-beaten-up gang that isn't afraid to toss out a crazed axe solo IN THE SECOND SONG! Imagine a combination between The Milltown Brothers and Motorhead (An Important Onlooker argues that it's Aztec Camera meeting Therapy?), and don't put the paper down in disgust: there's cherubic singer Chris Gordon and his dancing dungarees; then there's guitarist Grant McFarlane and bassist Bobby Dunn powergrunging around, follicles flying and bodies consistently bent double. This is Beauty and the Beast, a manic menage a trois of harmonies and ideals which result in the kind of kinetic strop pop of new single 'Sperm' and its superior B-side, 'Superpowered'. Of course, the first three songs are great, gripping blasts from whatever past they worship, and the rest of the set haplessly fails to maintain the tension, despite the momentum. But even that imbalance is comforting in its own berserk way, as it proves that The Man has yet to take total control of their testosterone levels. Which just about says it all. Watch your jumper, Noel Tidybeard - cultural Chaos this way comes...

(Simon Williams, 13 Nov '93)

MELODY MAKER

Powerhaus, London - Nov 13 '93
"I am a healthy white boy / With 10 fingers and toes / This way no one ever knows..." Baby Chaos's singer does indeed do justice to his lyrics. He's wearing a nice purple T-shirt underneath a pair of wholesome blue denim dungarees. His guitar is the colour of dried apricots and fresh blood. He massages it like a tense infant. He's got that Robert Redford colouring and a mouth that spurts caramelised testosterone. The sounds are exquisite, uncooked enough to be refreshing, shiny enough to sound like heaven on a hot day. "Sperm" starts big and just keeps on growing, a roaring toothache of a song that then lunges at you like a tiger with a grudge. "Superpowered" unfurls with a soft gurgle then smashes through its own mesh with huge dirty power chords. The rest is fire and honey, the kind of music that everyone with balls in their soul should want to make. I like this band. A whole lot.

(Holly Barringer,)