"Marian (Version)" by The Sisters of Mercy
TITLE: "Marian (Version)"
ARTIST: The Sisters of Mercy
ALBUM: First And Last And Always
RELEASE DATE: March, 1985
When I first heard the Sisters of Mercy sometime in early 1985, I don't believe I'd even heard the word "Gothic" outstide of discussions about architecture and a famous painting by Grant Wood. As far as I was concerned, this black-clad gaggle of hirsute, weedily pale Brits in shades looked like the bastard offspring of the Velvet Underground and the Ramones and played a sort've punkily Baroque-tinged take on what people were casually calling "gloom rock" at the time. Courtesy of MTV, I caught a glimpse of the Sisters' video for "Walk Away" off their debut LP, First And Last And Always, and was instantly hooked. I remember reading a not-so-generous review of the album in SPIN wherein they lambasted the band for their penchant for sonic murk and likened the album to Bowie's Low being played at the wrong speed (remember turntables?). I decided to fetch it at once and was pleasantly not let down (after all, even in their glory days --- what the hell did SPIN know?)
Ten tracks of brooding angst, throaty murmuring and contemptuous despair, First And Last And Always swiftly became one of my all-time favorites, alongside similarly inclined albums of the era like Night Time by Killing Joke, Ocean Rain by Echo & the Bunnymen, Love by the Cult and Psychocandy by the Jesus & Mary Chain. Flanking Andrew Eldritch's implausibly deep vocals with Craig Adams' boomily dominant bass lines, the mechanized rhythms of Doktor Avalanche (the Sisters' long-time drum machine) and the dueling guitars of Gary Marx and Wayne Hussey (the latter bringing some chimingly plucked acoustic twelve-string action to the proceedings, a stately Rococo touch absent from the band's earlier singles), First And Last And Always become inexorably synonymous with all things "Goth" (initially a pejorative tag coined by dismissive journalists), but at the time, it still sounded deliciously dark and doomy. Still does.
While it had been the hook-friendly "Walk Away" that had led me to the band (which I'd later learn to be a bitter kiss-off to the shortly-to-depart Gary Marx), it was track number five on side one that really sealed the deal for me. "Marian (Version)" starts with a deceptive guitar plucking before Craig's bass and the good Doktor thump in like the metronome of death. The song arrives like an ominous murder of crows that gradually blackens the sky before Andrew assumes the microphone. A Poe-ish lament about desperation and drowning, "Marian (Version)" is ostensibly a cry for help, but sounds more like a warning, especially when Andrew abandons his native tongue for a final verse coldly recited in gruff German -- inarguably the language of persecution. It's perfect in virtually every way.
Steeped in intra-band acrimony, shady narcotic doings and a haughty disdain for both the British music press and even their own fan base (the Sisters took no prisoners), the line-up of the band which recorded this black gem was not to last. The ensuing "Great Goth Schism" found Wayne and Craig departing to form their own band, initially dubbed The Sisterhood before Andrew beat them to the punch and released an arguably unlistenable e.p. -- titled Gift (German for "poison") -- under said moniker to stymie the pilferage. Re-christened as The Mission, Wayne's band went onto fleeting success in the late 80's (I counted myself as a ardent fan), while Andrew re-invented the Sisters of Mercy a couple of years later as a relatively different sounding beast entirely. Later records by the band were comparatively slick, expansive and faultlessly well-produced.
As I mentioned in this post, the first three full albums by the Sisters have recently been re-mastered and re-released. Floodland and Vision Thing, while both entirely fine albums, hardly needed re-mastering (let alone re-releasing), but the new version of First And Last And Always (inarguably the finest album of the three) has been touched up by relative leaps and bounds (this is actually the second time it's been improved upon, after a re-mastered edition surfaced in 1992). Along with some extra tracks (b-sides, demos, the usual), the new versions come with lovingly appended album artwork and some authoritative liner notes that are well worth checking out if you're a fan.
I'm not the only person who adores this track. In 2004, stylish Euro-pop collective, Nouvelle Vague released a bossa nova (Gotha Nova?) rendition of "Marian (Version)" on their eponymous debut that is surprisingly faithful in tone to the original while still being dinner-party-friendly.
TRIVIAL FOOTNOTE: Many are confused as to why this track is referred to as "Marian (Version)". According to the band's entirely infrequently updated website, there is no other version of 'Marian'. Traditionally, reggae instrumentals were called 'Songname - version', to denote the fact that there's no singing. 'Marian (version)' is simply a reference to the record company's complaint that the vocals on 'Marian' were far too quiet.
TRIVIAL FOOTNOTE - Part Deux: To this day, Andrew Eldritch strenuously rejects the "Gothic" label, insisting that the band's early aesthetic was an entirely wry joke, lampooning the over-the-top idiocy of rock'n'roll. To his credit, the Sisters of Mercy have covered some pretty incongruous material in their day -- from Dolly Parton to Abba -- that lends his claim some creedence. And the band are not entirely without a sense of humor (the video for "Black Planet," the lead track off First And Last And Always, finds the band driving around Los Angeles freeway clovers -- in the same hot rod used in the television series, "The Monkees"). The last few times I caught the band, Andrew appeared wearing lots of bold colors, but still the black-clad hordes claim the band as their own. For what it's worth, in this appearance on "The Old Grey Whistle Test" -- performing "Marian (Version)" -- Craig is wearing orange.
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