New wave

Introduction

New wave is an extremely multifaceted cultural and musical movement, rich in ideas, directions and trends that carried rock music through the inescapable upheaval triggered by punk, from the uniform yet many-hued rainbow of the Sixties and Seventies to today's sprawling kaleidoscope of sounds and moods.

New wave is not, then, a single well-defined genre, but a crowd of countless streams (sometimes mere trickles, sometimes raging rivers) whose only common denominator is a direct descent from punk and its defining trait: the synthetic simplification of the musical approach.

The first half of the Seventies was marked by the exhilarating season of progressive rock, which, however, after its initial burst of creative drive, was by then settling into baroque arrangements and displays of pure technical skill, dragging rock further and further away from its primal spontaneity.

Punk, with iconoclastic fury, wipes the slate (more or less) clean, calling into question the social, cultural and artistic approach of rock music: now everything must be rebuilt on the new foundations laid down by the revolution of '77 and its aftermath.

But what in punk is often a crude, approximate synthesis (however fascinating) becomes, in new wave, a conscious and deliberate stylistic approach: the recovery, analysis and assembly of the most disparate musical genres (from progressive to garage, from rock'n'roll to soul, from psychedelia to rhythm and blues, from hard rock to funk) reworked into a synthesis that is something new compared to the past in terms of taste, sensibility and historical perspective.

To sketch out a rough chronology, we can place new wave in a period running roughly from 1977 to 1984: its first stirrings intersect and overlap with the explosion of the punk phenomenon, while its final breaths coincide, on one hand, with the emergence of R.E.M. and the Smiths (excellent proponents of a more marked return to certain Sixties-derived, guitar-oriented pop sounds), and, on the other, with the increasingly evident use of electronic methods in recording and production - a development that would strip new wave of its spontaneity and give even much of its more dignified output a somewhat "plastic" sound. Yet the spirit of new wave would live on in the decades that followed, influencing a myriad of new styles and trends (just think of the recent breakthrough of Interpol).

Since new wave is a remarkably multifaceted movement, for ease of approach and understanding we have divided it into three broad areas (by no means to be understood as watertight compartments): post-punk, dark, and electronic music.

1. Post-punk

Before setting off on this musical journey, we can't help mentioning the insights of those who, between the late Sixties and the first half of the Seventies, paved the way for punk and its immediate offshoots: the first two albums by the Velvet Underground, the first two by Iggy Pop's Stooges, and the devastating debuts of the MC5 and the New York Dolls.

Having also paid tribute to the Heartbreakers, Richard Hell, the Ramones, the Clash and the Sex Pistols (whose respective debut albums, all released in '77, are milestones of punk as it's commonly understood), we must nonetheless stress how punk, by its very nature (the elementary quality of its stylistic approach and its technical-compositional means), tends to evolve toward more complex structures, or at any rate to blend with different, more elaborate compositional mechanisms and expressive tensions.

The term "post-punk" is deliberately vague, since it takes in expressive forms that, while traceable back to the punk revolution, evolve along the most varied and fragmented of lines.

Right after the "rebellious" explosion of 1976-77, many of those bands set off down a path that freed them from a certain expressive monotony inherent to punk, forging new routes - expressed both in the not-always-orthodox blending of "base" musical genres and in the clear recovery of the "song form" - while still respecting those stylistic coordinates.

The godmother of new wave is the woman who would soon become rock's best-known "poetess": Patti Smith, a nervy, feverish singer-songwriter from Chicago who was active on New York's underground circuit. It's her very first single, "Hey Joe/Piss Factory", that is historically credited with blazing the trail for the new American music scene that would evolve into new wave.

Mindful of the astonishing lyrical and sonic lesson of Patti Smith's first two albums - "Horses" (1975) and "Radio Ethiopia" (1976), both poised between the Velvet Underground and Leonard Cohen - two New York bands laid the groundwork for this transatlantic nouvelle vague. These were the Talking Heads and Television, who both debuted with excellent records in '77 (the Talking Heads' album is titled with that very release year).

With the Talking Heads, the early punk velocity (think of the frenetic "Psycho Killer") quickly merges with funky rhythms, experimental guitar work and a measured use of electronics: it all pours into a stunning crescendo with the albums "More Songs About Buildings and Food" ('78), "Fear of Music" ('79) and "Remain in Light" ('80). On the latter, David Byrne and co. (with crucial help from Brian Eno) unleash unprecedented creativity, producing an epoch-making record that was at least 15 years ahead of the sounds of its time, with its blend of funky dynamics, lopsided rhythms and disorienting vocals. Over the years this formula would be developed further, above all by band leader David Byrne, in an increasingly ethnic-percussive direction, though along the way it would lose much of its original appeal. The Talking Heads also spawned the Tom Tom Club, purveyors of a funky-dance sound distilled into the single "Wordy Rappinghood".

Tom Verlaine's Television, meanwhile, recorded "Marquee Moon", a masterpiece of guitar work at once forceful and delicate, rooted in the sixties, which confirms - through the leader's excellent technical skill - how post-punk was gradually distancing itself from the crude superficiality of early punk. The following year came another fine record, "Adventure", essentially following in its predecessor's footsteps. Elaborate, dreamlike and hypnotic, Television's songs probably represent the artistic peak of this new transatlantic rock outpost.

The temple of new wave is a New York venue, CBGB's (traditionally known for its focus on genres such as Country, Bluegrass and Blues, hence the acronym). Also performing here were Blondie, fronted by the enchanting Debbie Harry, who churned out instant knockout hits like "Heart Of Glass" and "Call Me", giving rise to so-called "disco-punk". What launches them into rock's pantheon above all is the album "Parallel Lines" (1978). Still on the pop side, but with more experimental intentions, were the Boston-based Cars, led by Ric Ocasek, whose formula - built on intelligent electronics and a refined balance between pop-rock exuberance and romanticism - would culminate in the huge worldwide success of "Heartbeat City" (1984).

Among the American pioneers of new wave, mention must go to Pere Ubu, a band from Cleveland, Ohio devoted to challenging, fascinating works rooted in an art-rock poised between Captain Beefheart and the Velvet Underground. Their masterpiece "The Modern Dance" (1978) is a sort of apocalyptic piece on post-industrial society, unfolding nervously through hysterical rhythms, noise, harmonic disfigurement and hallucinated vocals (courtesy of singer David Thomas).

But it's above all San Francisco, California that proves the most fertile laboratory for this new sonic scene, a forerunner of new wave. It's here, in fact, that the experiments of three bands as cryptic as they were revolutionary took place: The Residents, Chrome and Tuxedomoon.

The mysterious Residents (their very faces hidden behind masks) built grotesque, parodic collages in the vein of Frank Zappa ("Not Available", "Meet The Residents"), marked by an avant-garde use of noise and new electronic machinery. Chrome, on the other hand, favored a destructive, chaotic sound, a kind of "requiem for the machine age", which would culminate in the unsettling "Half Machine Lips Move" (1979), an original blend of punk, Dadaism, electronics and noise. Closer to the avant-garde than to traditional rock, finally, Steve Brown's Tuxedomoon achieved one of the most ambitious feats of the era with the multifaceted "Half-Mute" (1980), which moves effortlessly from pop to chamber music.

A wholly distinct season would then be that of New York's "no wave" scene of the late '70s, whose standard-bearers were James White's Contortions, Lydia Lunch's Teenage Jesus And The Jerks, Mars, and Arto Lindsay's DNA. An extreme, short-lived movement, marked by a nihilistic, iconoclastic attitude that translated musically into an impetuous reliance on free-jazz-style improvisation and the violent, noise-driven deformation of rock's traditional idioms. This current would also feed, in some way, into the undisputed masters of noise-rock still to come, Sonic Youth.

But it's in Britain that new wave flourished even more abundantly, with groups that, stylistically starting out from punk, gradually broke away from it to craft a sound that could encompass and rework the endless ideas produced by the rock of the '60s and '70s.

This is the case, for instance, with XTC, who, after churning out their first two albums in full pop-punk style in '78 ("White Music" and "Go 2"), strung together an extraordinary trio of records - "Drums and Wires" ('79), "Black Sea" ('80) and "English Settlement" ('82) - in which punk is merely a memory, overshadowed by guitar work forever balanced between pop and experimentation, by an intelligent, never-nostalgic recovery of sixties psychedelic textures, and by a distinctly Beatlesque mood, all wrapped in sophisticated, melancholy arrangements underpinned by cleverly witty, ironic lyrics.

Or take the case of the Stranglers, skilled instrumentalists and songwriters unlike so many punk bands: their trajectory unfolds, starting from that pivotal year 1977, through their first two albums ("Rattus Norvegicus" and "No More Heroes"), punk in appearance but already threaded with nervous psychedelic patterns traced by the keyboards, and continues with the subsequent "Black and White" (78), "The Raven" (79), "The Men in Black" (81) and "La Folie" (81), where technical and compositional mastery reconciles the last flickers of punk with well-crafted progressive structures and melodies.

Having already mentioned in passing the Fall - suffice it to recall, from their vast discography, "Live at the Witch Trials" (79), "Grotesque" (80), "Hex Enduction Hour" (82) and "Perverted by Language" (83) - whose rhythmic and harmonic explorations immediately surpass punk simplicity in complexity and inventiveness while still stemming from it, we must also mention a band whose stylistic attitude, though rooted in punk idioms, evolves along an intelligent sonic trajectory that leads it to establish melodic cornerstones essential to new wave: the Buzzcocks, who showcase their post-punk vitality across just three albums: "Another Music in a Different Kitchen" (78), "Love Bites" (78) and "A Different Kind of Tension" (79).

Linked to the Buzzcocks are Magazine (frontman Howard Devoto having been part of the Buzzcocks' first, strictly punk incarnation, traces of which survive on the 1978 'bootleg' "Time's Up", later reissued as an official record in '91): here punk frenzy blends indelibly (through the predominant use of keyboards) with the glam-experimental intuitions of Roxy Music (specifically their first two albums, which feature Brian Eno's brilliantly unorthodox sonic touches).

Of Magazine (about whom we should note a certain depth of lyrics not always found within new wave) we recall the first three impeccably arranged albums: "Real Life" (78), "Secondhand Daylight" (79) and "The Correct Use of Soap" (80).

Contemporaries of Magazine, both in terms of timing and stylistic approach, are Japan, led by David Sylvian, and Ultravox, led by John Foxx.

The former, after their debut releases - "Adolescent Sex" (78) and "Obscure Alternatives" (78) - which slavishly imitated Bryan Ferry and the more glam, commercial side of Roxy Music, go on to produce, in a thrilling crescendo of originality, "Quiet Life" (79), "Gentlemen Take Polaroids" (80) and "Tin Drum" (81), where new wave takes on a hazy electronic tinge along with small but decisive ethnic (especially Eastern) and ambient touches.

These latter traits, taken up by Ryuichi Sakamoto (already leader of a Japanese techno-pop band, Yellow Magic Orchestra, and a collaborator of Sylvian's) in the soundtrack to the film "Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence" (83) (which features an evocative, haunting track with spine-tingling vocals, "Forbidden Colours", co-written by both), would go on to underpin all of David Sylvian's subsequent work once Japan disbanded, and in particular two of the great masterpieces of new wave - and of rock as a whole - namely his 1984 solo debut, "Brilliant Trees", and its follow-up "Secrets of the Beehive" (87), to be remembered alongside the e.p. "Words with the Shaman" (85), a worthy companion to Peter Gabriel's own ethnic explorations.

Ultravox are an extraordinarily original band, led by a multifaceted artist like John Foxx. The three albums of their first incarnation - "Ultravox!" (77), "Ha! Ha! Ha!" (77) and "Systems of Romance" (78) - formally distance themselves from early punk through the use of violin and keyboards, which recall the sonic richness of the early '70s; but what ultimately makes them masterpieces is the band's astonishing creative ability (initially aided by the production of Brian Eno) to fuse, with magical fluidity, the most melodic impulses with a rich, darkly avant-garde tension, alongside an enviable gift for synthesis. Foxx's subsequent solo career, as well as the band's second incarnation, will be dealt with specifically in the section on electronic music.

Let us now turn to two fundamental groups of punk aesthetics, the Clash and the Jam, who, having intelligently evolved and reshaped their sound in a further and highly commendable act of synthesis, stand out as among the most interesting and original standard-bearers of new wave.

The former, led by Joe Strummer and Mick Jones, after debuting with a punk masterpiece - "The Clash" (77) - and following it with a transitional second album, "Give 'Em Enough Rope" (78), poised between still rawly punk instincts and early wave leanings, produced between '79 and '80 a flood of songs that would go on to form two monuments: the double album "London Calling" and the triple "Sandinista!": both, while still working within the "song format" and with an eye on the new dance rhythms in vogue at the time, deliver an extraordinary exploration and reworking of rock's white roots (rock'n'roll and country) and black roots (blues, funk, reggae), setting the stage - a full ten years ahead of its time - for the "crossover" sound that dominates today and is so often abused. The following "Combat Rock" (82) (albeit released as a single album) stands as the summation of the Clash's forward-looking drive.

The Jam, almost the exclusive property of Paul Weller, spent their first two albums ("In the City" and "This Is the Modern World", both from '77) caught between punk's surface-level speed and a love of the Who (the references to 'mod' epics and the mod era are unmistakable). In the albums that followed – "All Mod Cons" ('78), "Setting Sons" ('79) and "Sound Affects" ('80) – they delved deeper into their love of certain sixties sounds and rhythm and blues, alongside an increasingly marked (left-wing) political stance in the lyrics, picking up the social protest and anti-establishment rebellion (ever more self-aware) of the Clash, who had been politicised from the very start. Their final studio album before splitting, "The Gift" ('82), makes clear that Weller's tastes had by then shifted decisively towards a black sound: the seeds of the Style Council were already being sown, his new outfit steeped in jazz, soul, funk and blues, which, after several teaser singles – among them the gorgeously evocative "Long Hot Summer" ('83) – would produce in '84 a classic of the most "commercially experimental" new wave, "Café Bleu".

Staying within "black" territory musically and "red" territory politically, we can't overlook two shooting stars of English post-punk (openly opposed to the Thatcherite conservative establishment of the late '70s and early '80s) who, brief as their run was, left an indelible mark on the development of certain new wave paths: the Pop Group (punk violence, funky frenzy and creative noise on their '79 debut "Y" and its follow-up "For How Much Longer Do We Tolerate Mass Murder?" from '80) and Gang of Four, an extraordinary cross between punk minimalism, funky rhythms and uncompromisingly sharp guitar work on their explosive debut "Entertainment!" ('79) and the following "Solid Gold" ('81).

Another shooting star were Dexys Midnight Runners, responsible for two albums ("Searching for the Young Soul Rebels" from '80 and "Too-Rye-Ay" from '82) that borrow punk's frenzy but are essentially steeped in soul, folk and rhythm and blues.

The early records of two of the most famous rock bands of the last 20 years can also be traced back to new wave: the Police, fronted by Sting, and U2.

The Police debuted in '77 with a single of unmistakably punk stamp, "Fall Out", but their subsequent steps were already marked by a clever blend of styles, foregrounding a punk-meets-sixties guitar sound, catchy pop melodies and a rock-reggae rhythm section brilliantly reworked through Stewart Copeland's drumming: the result was 1978's "Outlandos d'Amour" (which contains that masterpiece of lyrical and sonic delicacy, "Roxanne"), the excellent "Reggatta de Blanc" ('79) and "Zenyattà Mondatta" ('80), before sophisticated, top-of-the-charts pop (however finely crafted) became their overriding goal.

The early recordings of Irish outfit U2 fit perfectly within post-punk, marked as they are by psychedelic-tinged guitar work and an enviable freshness of composition and arrangement. Their first three albums trace the evolution of Bono's band, charting – from "Boy" ('80), through "October" ('81), to the tightness of "War" ('83) – the growth of a sound that becomes gradually more epic and gripping, thanks to the frontman's ever-improving vocal range and Larry Mullen Jr.'s powerful drumming. Lyrically, meanwhile, they range from naive but pointed accounts of youthful unease confronting the world's bitter realities to a brave pacifist stand amid the long-running Catholic-Protestant conflict in Ireland. Having recorded an excellent live album ("Under a Blood Red Sky", 1983) that closed out this first phase, U2, with the indispensable help of Brian Eno, produced in '84 "The Unforgettable Fire", a pivotal album in laying down the blueprint needed to bridge new wave with Eno's ambient insights.

Irish like U2 and hailing from the same musical scene, Virgin Prunes, though scattered across their releases, produced in '82 a brilliant album, "...If I Die, I Die", poised between folk, noise and an almost tribal rhythmic experimentation. Also from the Emerald Isle came Bob Geldof's Boomtown Rats (who would later become famous chiefly for masterminding "Live Aid"). Their "anthem" remains "I Don't Like Mondays", found on "The Fine Art of Surfacing" (1979).

Simple Minds, on the other hand, hail from Scotland, and like other bands discussed earlier they favour the use of keyboards (their first two albums, "Life in a Day" and "Real to Real Cacophony", both from '79, show an evident, none-too-original attempt to emulate Roxy Music). The turning point came in '80 with their third album, "Empires and Dance", and took full shape with the two records that followed: "Sons and Fascination" from '81 (bundled with the mini-album drawn from the same sessions, "Sister Feelings Call") and "New Gold Dream (81-82-83-84)" ('82) are two genuine masterpieces, dominated by driving, at times almost dance-like rhythms and majestic interplay between guitar and keyboards, all held together by Jim Kerr's increasingly assured voice. The following "Sparkle in the Rain" ('84), while still appealing, suffers from an attempt to mimic the grandiose, epic sound of U2's "War" (partly due to sharing the same producer, Steve Lillywhite).

Australian by birth but English by adoption were the Birthday Party, led by the magnificent Nick Cave: their sound was a wildly original mix of ragged punk velocity, experimental German cabaret, a desperate love of the great American bluesmen (including the tuneless blues of Captain Beefheart's seminal early albums) and searing, obsessive noise, all rounded off by the frontman's cavernous, pitch-black yet extraordinarily compelling voice.

In their brief lifespan, marred by serious drug problems, they produced three albums – "The Birthday Party" ('80), "Prayers on Fire" ('81), the strongest for cohesion and focus, and "Junkyard" ('82) – plus two mini-LPs ("Bad Seed" and "Mutiny!", both from '83).

Having launched his solo career, Nick Cave debuted in '84 with "From Her to Eternity", a tuneless yet brilliant reworking of the American rock, blues and country tradition, before continuing on to stake out an original and stirring place for himself within the singer-songwriter realm. A journey that would likely reach its peak in 1990, with the majestic "The Good Son".

In Italy, the standard-bearers of new wave were two Florentine bands, Litfiba (who would later renounce those sounds in favour of blatantly commercial power-pop) and Diaframma. More "punk" in spirit were Giovanni Lindo Ferretti's CCCP, who later morphed into the new outfit CSI, again with fine results.

Let's close this journey through post-punk by looking at a few bands who count sixties English psychedelia among their key touchstones.

Let's start with the Psychedelic Furs, purveyors of a sound often psychedelic (lovely interplay of sax and guitar), hard-edged yet fluid, recalling the glam-rock of Roxy Music and Marc Bolan's T. Rex. Their self-titled debut from '80 and its follow-up, "Talk Talk Talk", from the year after, are outstanding, while later records would betray an excessive fondness for catchiness. Presiding over it all, though, is Richard Butler's monotone yet captivating voice, often owing more than a little to Bowie's tonal palette.

Also worth noting are Echo & the Bunnymen, whose guitar cuts through the songs sharply but never obsessively, lending a decisive touch of psychedelic rock that often recalls Television and (in part) U2. Their first two albums – "Crocodiles" ('80) and "Heaven Up Here" ('81) – are the most genuine, while the third and fourth – "Porcupine" ('83) and "Ocean Rain" ('84) – though enjoyable, flirt too heavily with pop.

In Adrian Borland's Sound (Borland would die tragically in 1999, throwing himself in front of a train), the love for psychedelia is underscored not by guitars but by decidedly sixties-style keyboards: here too, the first two records – "Jeopardy" (80) and "From the Lions Mouth" (81) – are the best.

Finally, let's talk about Teardrop Explodes, the extraordinary outfit led by Julian Cope, who released two studio albums – "Kilimanjaro" (80), a masterpiece of modern, darting psychedelia, and the slightly lesser "Wilder" (81) – on which psychedelic keyboards recalling Pink Floyd and Soft Machine mix with bizarre echoes of the troubled genius of Syd Barrett. Once he went solo, Cope produced two new masterpieces of updated psychedelia in the same year (84) – "World Shut Your Mouth" and, above all, "Fried" – both splendidly evocative of the ghost of the former Floyd leader.

2. Dark-gothic

Dark music – which, in fact, in its native England goes by the far more evocative (from a literary standpoint) name of gothic music – is one of the most fertile strands of the entire English new wave scene: through the catharsis of punk, it too recovers, metabolizes and reworks certain musical languages from the past. The putative fathers of dark can be traced back to the hard rock streaked with spectral landscapes of early Black Sabbath, courtesy of Tony Iommi and Ozzy Osbourne, to the shadowy, spacey psychedelia of "A Saucerful of Secrets" by Roger Waters' Pink Floyd, to the bleak, macabre progressive of Van Der Graaf Generator led by Peter Hammill, to the desperate sonic and lyrical malaise of Velvet Underground with Lou Reed and John Cale, to the gloomy litanies of the sepulchral Nico, and finally to the shadowy David Bowie of the so-called "Berlin trilogy". Musically we're dealing with dark, obsessive, gloomy sounds, while lyrically the focus is on funereal or otherwise oppressive, melancholy, sorrowful atmospheres: in a word, dark's stylistic signature is a romanticism that is minimal and shadowy, yet never lacking in emotional tension.

At the end of the '70s, while bands like the Clash and the Jam reaffirmed, in their lyrics and attitudes, their social and political commitment, other bands and artists deliberately chose a total withdrawal into themselves and their own miniature world, giving voice to minimal lyrics and sounds, now melancholy, now desperate, but wholly steeped in a romanticism that brought back to the fore the suffering sensitivity of contemporary man – no longer master of the world, but out of step with himself and with others. The symbol of this outlook on life, and the progenitor-catalyst of all the traits of the dark "mood" we've outlined so far, is undoubtedly Ian Curtis, leader of the unforgettable Joy Division, who took his own life at just 23. The band's only two studio albums, "Unknown Pleasures" ('79) and "Closer" (80), are, both musically and lyrically, a one-way journey into the abyss of incommunicability and inner solitude, a cold, senseless plunge into a kind of "cupio dissolvi". Curtis's lyrics, even as they seem to photograph and describe a state of mind with detachment, actually dissect it, analyzing every hidden and painful facet in a sort of metaphorical cry for help to the outside world that, as we already know, will go unanswered.

The music evolves from the post-punk rawness of the debut album, through a wealth of singles – among which one cannot fail to mention the tender, desperate "Love Will Tear Us Apart" (80) – all the way to an almost perfect essentiality of sound on "Closer": the guitar is stark and cutting, drums and bass lock into obsessive rhythms, and Curtis's voice, monotone yet deep, is the connecting thread of a memorable crescendo, showcasing gems like "Atrocity Exhibition", "Isolation", "Decades" and "Heart and Soul".

In the same year as Joy Division's debut, another band born of punk – recall the debut albums "Pink Flag" (77) and "Chairs Missing" (78), steeped in minimalist exploration – released a record that would prove seminal in shaping a certain kind of new wave, and specifically dark, sound: it's Wire, and the album is called "154". On this record, experimental minimalism reigns supreme in both sound and lyrics: fragments of music and words that reach their peak on the dark "I Should Have Known Better".

On "154", punk's raw harshness and crude speed slowly give way to a slower, more evocative kind of music – a stylistic signature that, alongside a fierce, raw existential torment, would mark the artistic triumph of the so-called "dark trilogy" by Robert Smith and his Cure. After a debut blending pop and punk in intriguing fashion, "Three Imaginary Boys" ('79), the band plunged for three years into searing darkness. The world had become a desolate, incomprehensible wasteland, where cold nature entangles with ever more skeletal emotions, and there's no way out – nor has there ever been: that's "A Forest", the true masterpiece of a career and the lead track of "Seventeen Seconds" ('80), the first album of the trilogy. Here and on "Faith" ('81), the guitar twists into cutting, chillingly morbid riffs, the keyboards – rather than embroidering in the foreground as in progressive and glam – weave an underlying thread of constant tension, the drumming is obsessively metronomic, and the bass transforms from an essentially rhythmic instrument into a melodic support of melancholy effectiveness, while the lyrics whisper or scream a fearfully aware consciousness of an existence suspended in an absurd, meaningless world. All these traits are sublimated to the nth degree on the trilogy's final album, "Pornography" ('82), a true dark masterpiece "for all time" and a record capable of expressing a genuine rock poetics, freed from any more or less slavish imitation of others' models. From first track to last (worth mentioning at least "One Hundred Years", "The Hanging Garden", "The Figurehead", "A Strange Day" and the title track), it's a dreamlike ride, at times dramatic, at times resigned, toward the nothingness of existence.

Having drifted away from dark in the years that followed, Smith would return to it to deliver a kind of testament on the opening track of the album "Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me" ('87) (a record oriented more toward pop-psychedelia): on "The Kiss" (an almost instrumental, spine-chilling track with searing, obsessive guitar digressions), the kiss is evoked as a bringer of both love and death: humanity's two strongest impulses are served, and the circle can close.

Robert Smith's dark "sister" is Susan Dallion (aka Siouxsie Sioux), the charismatic and striking leader of Siouxsie and the Banshees. The band, whose ranks would repeatedly include Robert Smith himself on guitar and songwriting, moved through the English new wave scene along a coherent, clear-eyed path that took it from a less immediate, more sophisticated strain of punk to a brilliant, never banal psychedelia, all anchored by Siouxsie's powerful, dark voice, capable of plunging the listener into the deepest, murkiest depths of the dark sound: in this regard, we should note the first five albums, "The Scream" ('78), "Join Hands" ('79), "Kaleidoscope" ('80), "Ju-Ju" ('81) – an exemplary summation of the Banshees' art – and "A Kiss in the Dreamhouse" ('82).

An early deference to the instrumental and vocal sound of Siouxsie Sioux can be heard in the magical Cocteau Twins, the leading band of so-called dream-pop. Worth noting are the albums "Garlands" (82) and "Head Over Heels" (83), along with the delicate EPs "Lullabies" (82), "Peppermint Pig" (83) and "Sunburst and Snowblind" (83), which also feature hushed but elaborate electronic orchestrations. The band led by Elizabeth Fraser would later find a compositional originality of its own that moved it away from gothic and, more broadly, from new wave, but that would allow the singer's vocal potential to shine through fully. The dreamlike, spectral "Treasure" (1984) remains the absolute pinnacle of both this band and this genre, as well as one of the most evocative records in rock history. Similar in approach are Dead Can Dance, an Australian band recording for an English label: gothic, sepulchral atmospheres, a skillfully measured use of acoustic and electronic instrumentation, all alongside a delicate vocal style that at times rises to spine-tingling peaks courtesy of vocalist Lisa Gerrard, are the hallmarks of their debut – the EP "The Garden of the Arcane Delights" ('83) – of their first, self-titled album (84), and of their second, "Spleen and Ideal" ('85), whose very title perfectly marries dark leanings with a more sensitively romantic-decadent sensibility. Starting with "The Serpent's Egg" (1988), the Australian band would introduce the first elements of an ethnic, ancestral sound that would become their trademark. A wholly distinctive project is This Mortal Coil (a supergroup featuring, among others, members of the Cocteau Twins and Dead Can Dance), an offshoot of 4AD – the very label behind the aforementioned bands – responsible for an exquisitely delicate first album, "It'll End in Tears" (84), poised between experimentation and ethereal, melancholy gothic atmospheres.

Contemporary with Joy Division and the Cure are the early recordings of Bauhaus and Killing Joke, two other cornerstone bands in defining the gothic sound and beyond. Both add to the icily melodic approach of the bands mentioned earlier a fundamentally punk background, a subtle taste for a certain intellectualized hard rock and for a certain guitar- and electronics-driven noise, alongside the unsettling voices of, respectively, Peter Murphy and Jaz Coleman.

Of Bauhaus (whose technical caliber and stylistic eclecticism led them to fuse into a single "unicum" all the splendid dark qualities of their sound), we should recall the shadowy 1979 single "Bela Lugosi's Dead" (its references to English gothic literature are clear, with bass and guitar tracing livid sonic paths), as well as the albums "In the Flat Field" from 1980 (striking for its devastating impact and sonic compactness), "Mask" from 1981, and the melancholy "The Sky's Gone Out" ('82); of Killing Joke, the first, seminal, self-titled album from 1980 (a trailblazer for countless sounds to come, especially on the industrial side) and the following "What's THIS For...!" ('81).

The blending of sounds now dark, now noisy, now even psychedelic finds its fullest realization in the Public Image Ltd. project, the brainchild of Johnny Lydon (Rotten, back when he was frontman of the Sex Pistols). Against the, all told, simplifying approach to rock taken by the Pistols, P.I.L. set a sonic complexity, the fruit of a simultaneous assimilation and reworking of the punk message on more self-aware terms, which effectively makes them the ideal "proof positive" of the intrinsic bond linking, in a kind of Darwinian evolution, the sound and "mood" of punk with the more elaborate atmospheres of new wave.

This band's first three albums are essential and rock-solid, with an obsessive, claustrophobic sound: "First Issue" ('78), "Metal Box – Second Edition" ('79) and "The Flowers of Romance" ('81).

Lastly, we should mention Theatre of Hate, Sisters of Mercy, Cult and Mission, whose respective debut albums – “Westworld” (’82), “First And Last And Always” (’85), “Dreamtime” (’84) and “God’s Own Medicine” (’86) – showcase a mature and captivating goth approach, though at times (particularly with Cult and Mission) tipping into excessive bombast, a kind of “rhetorical inflation” of the dark sound. Sisters Of Mercy would also give us one of the goth movement’s “anthems”, that “Temple Of Love” which, years on, still retains all its gloomy allure intact.

The insights of the British dark-gothic movement would be picked up across the Atlantic by California’s Christian Death, led by Rozz Williams (with the unforgettable “Only Theatre Of Pain” from 1982 and “Catastrophe Ballet” from 1984), as well as by towering names of the industrial and hardcore scene such as Nine Inch Nails, Ministry and Swans (the latter responsible for an album, “Children Of God”, which can be considered the absolute masterpiece of dark music from across the pond). And starting in the Nineties, dark tones would also seep into electronic music through ambient-gothic masters such as Lycia and Black Tape For A Blue Girl. 

3. Electronics and synth-pop

One of punk's fundamental lessons is that you don't need to be a virtuoso on an instrument to be able to play it.

If we combine this premise with the disruptive technological development of this period (with the refinement of synthesizers, the birth of electronic drums – famously the one used by Sisters Of Mercy, which was even given a name, Doctor Avalanche – and the first samplers), it's easy to understand how wave electronics too (and its approach to the instrument) is a child of punk.

But there were other parents too: in the early 1970s, in Germany — an ideal experimental laboratory — the so-called "kosmische musik" was born, an experimental strain of electronic music, ethereal and obsessive at once, whose brightest representatives included Tangerine Dream, Faust, Can with Holger Czukay (later a collaborator of David Sylvian) and Cluster (later working with Brian Eno). Also in Germany came Kraftwerk, who moved from avant-garde sonorities to an almost pop approach to electronics, positioning themselves (with the 1974 masterpiece "Autobahn" and their subsequent records) as the ideal fathers of the union between avant-garde electronics and electronic pop.

Equally fundamental are the sonic studies of Brian Eno, both in his albums with Roxy Music and in his solo projects (including his ambient digressions), just as seminal — and of the highest artistic value — is the "Berlin trilogy" by David Bowie, which, not by chance, sees Eno as a close collaborator.

Although it was England that would go on to produce the most striking stars of the electro field, it was once again the USA that got there first, or at least dictated the new rules.

Between 1977 and 1978, two devastating albums came out, remarkable for their sonic intensity, avant-garde bite and pioneering timing: the vinyl debuts of Suicide and Devo (the latter, not coincidentally, produced by Eno).

The self-titled album by Suicide, featuring Alan Vega (vocals) and Martin Rev (synth), is a wall of electronics like nothing heard before — hypnotic and claustrophobic, brutally impactful and utterly unconcerned with danceable rhythms: it's all rounded out by perverse urban poetry in the vein of Lou Reed ("Cheree", "Ghost Rider" and, above all, the terrifying "Frankie Teardrop").

On "Q. Are we not men? A. We are Devo!", Devo juggle frantic rhythms and robotic keyboards, throwing 60s rock, Kraftwerk, a certain funky mood and the punk urges of their era into a melting pot that was, for its time, thoroughly innovative. Their second album — "Duty Now for the Future" (79) — would deepen these traits before Devo succumbed to the lure of techno-pop.

In England, avant-garde electronic experimentation began with the research of Throbbing Gristle: their theme was the alienation of man within industrial civilization, and their sound was a mix of pre-recorded and reversed tapes, noise, and metallic, abrasive textures that were utterly harsh and hypnotic (worth noting is their debut album "Second Annual Report" from '77, for which the term "industrial scene" was coined). Once they disbanded, leader Genesis P-Orridge founded Psychic TV, whose debut ("Force the Hand of Chance", '82) championed a sound poised between avant-garde electronics, noise and experimental techno-pop.

Within the industrial field, however, it was Cabaret Voltaire who produced true masterpieces. Their sound is a chaotic yet captivating spiral, constantly drawing you in and pushing you away from its center, in an obsessive game that is (apparently) an end in itself (the band's name comes from a venue in Zurich where, in the early 1900s, the Dadaist movement was born). Synthetic sounds and electronic noise, all filtered through an experimental, dark and visionary sensibility that reaches its peak on their debut ("Mix-Up", '79) but runs through all their subsequent records: "Live at the Y.M.C.A. 27.10.1979" (80), "The Voice of America" (80), "Three Mantras" (80) and "Red Mecca" (81), where, incidentally, there's an attempt to soften their proverbial harshness.

Following in the footsteps of Cabaret Voltaire came Clock DVA, another outfit with a difficult, hard-to-digest sound, industrial and noise-driven, though favoring a more punk approach interspersed with free-jazz leanings. Worth remembering are the albums "White Souls in Black Suits" (80) and "Thirst" (81).

To wrap up this section on industrial electronics, we move to Germany, birthplace of Einsturzende Neubauten, led by Blixa Bargeld (later a key figure in the Bad Seeds, the band backing Nick Cave). Here too the approach is essentially noise-based: post-punk and avant-garde electronics merge at their best on "Die Zeichnungen des Patienten O.T." (83), recorded in England, as well as in the unsettling industrial symphony of "Halber Mensch".

In the section on post-punk we mentioned we'd come back to John Foxx and the renewed Ultravox, proof of just how fluid and interchangeable the boundaries within new wave really are: what matters most is a new historical and cultural sensibility, expressed through a remarkable synthesis of prior musical languages.

John Foxx, having left Ultravox, threw himself body and soul into the new electronic machines (a direction already hinted at on the band's third album): his debut solo record, "Metamatic" (80), is entirely devoted to cold, robotic, cerebral sonorities, yet never loses sight of a genuinely compelling melodic core. His masterpiece, however, is undoubtedly the following album, "The Garden" (81), which brings to fruition and full maturity the ideas hinted at on its predecessor: the sound, while fundamentally synthetic, opens up into majestic, deeply emotional passages, disproving anyone who claims electronic music is inherently cold.

The following two albums — "The Golden Section" (83) and "In Mysterious Ways" (85) — attempt, with mixed but always intense results, to blend electronic textures with a renewed use of classic rock instrumentation.

Ultravox, left behind by Foxx, found a new leader in Midge Ure, who steered them toward synthetic sonorities with a slightly more pop-oriented sensibility than John Foxx's, though no less compelling for it.

The first two albums of this new era are without doubt the most successful: on "Vienna" (80), the band's techno-pop merges with more intellectual sonic choices (the use of piano and violin), showcased to full effect on the title track, steeped in aching romanticism.

The follow-up, the excellent "Rage in Eden" (81), is more radical in its electronic approach and darker in tone, almost gothic in its stylistic choices, underscored by the obsessive presence of keyboards and the rhythmically innovative beat of the electronic drums.

On the following "Quartet" (82) and "Lament" (84), the techno-pop leaning prevails - not unworthy, and indeed very pleasant listening, but dominant nonetheless.

Also worth remembering is the debut album by Steve Strange's Visage ("Visage", 1980), a supergroup featuring the likes of Midge Ure and Billy Currie of Ultravox, alongside several members of Magazine. Their formula is an extremely elegant synth-pop, tinged with "darkish" shades, which would influence the entire "New Romantic" movement to come. The phenomenal single "Fade To Grey" would also become a dancefloor sensation.

Similar in artistic outlook is Gary Numan, one of the forerunners in England of the electro and techno-pop path. His beginnings, however, were strictly punk, as documented by the album "The Plan" (84), which collects songs from 1977-78, before he devoted himself entirely to synthetic sounds, influenced by Kraftwerk and Bowie. His new wave albums - "Tubeway Army" (78), initially the name of the band behind which Numan hid, "Replicas" (79), "The Pleasure Principle" (79), his first album under his own name, "Telekon" (80) and "Dance" (81) - alternate icy, robotic sounds with warmer, more melodic moments, all governed by the attempt (successful, though not always) to combine experimentation with techno-pop.

Also worth noting in England is the work of Thomas Dolby, an experimental keyboardist inspired by the Brian Eno school. "Blinded By Science" (1983) would remain the manifesto of his eccentric electronics.

On the more commercial front of "romantic" synth-pop sit bands like Duran Duran and Culture Club, who would dominate the charts and teenage trends, even if the former, in particular, produced a few interesting tracks especially in their early work ("Planet Earth", "New Religion", "The Chauffeur", "New Moon On Monday"). As for Germany's Alphaville, their hit album "Forever Young" (featuring the hits "Big In Japan" and "Sounds Like A Melody") deserves a mention.

Two bands born out of the most seminal punk and post-punk are instead Wire and New Order. The former (already mentioned earlier) run like a common thread through all of new wave, making intellectual minimalism their banner.

Having split up after "154" (79), they reappeared in '86, seemingly too late for new wave - yet their return is so significant that it cannot go unmentioned. The spirit of exploration of the band's individual members (never truly extinguished during the split, as shown by the various members' experimental solo work) resurfaces as a group through the electronic direction of the EP "Snakedrill" (86) and the album that immediately follows it, "The Ideal Copy" (87).

What might, at a superficial glance, look like banal techno-pop (mostly a few years behind the originals) is in fact something else entirely: pop structures are hollowed out from within, and form is overwhelmed by the experimental, innovative substance of the rhythmic and harmonic approach, with the electronics entirely at the service of brilliant compositional ideas.

New Order are the second incarnation of Joy Division, formed once Ian Curtis was gone. The first album of the new era, "Movement" (81), is astonishing both for how coherently it continues the musical discourse opened by Curtis and for the apparent ease with which it manages to combine that sound's dark tendencies with the new electronic direction. The following album, "Power, Corruption And Lies" (83), continues the march towards techno-pop.

Another band tied to techno-pop (albeit with experimental ambitions early on) are Eurythmics. Their first album, "In The Garden" (81), tries to draw on German electronic experiences, but comes across as immature. The following one, "Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)" (83), wavers between electro flashes of insight and techno-pop temptations, which become dominant on "Touch" (84) (which nonetheless contains a fine track like "Here Comes The Rain Again"). Towering over it all is the powerful bluesy voice of Annie Lennox.

The Eurythmics' formula (synthesizers plus female voice) is echoed by another duo, Yazoo (made up of Vince Clarke, founder of Depeche Mode and later a defector from the band, and Alison Moyet). The band produced two albums - "Upstairs At Eric's" (82) and "You And Me Both" (83) - in which the essentially techno-pop sound is enlivened by Moyet's extraordinary performances, a white singer with vocal sensibilities black to the core.

Pioneers of electronic music are Human League. True to the "do it yourself" motto typical of punk aesthetics, their debut, the EP "The Dignity Of Labour" (78), is a typical punk product with one crucial difference: in place of electric guitars and human drumming there are synthesizers and a drum machine. The two albums that follow, "Reproduction" (79) and "Travelogue" (80), are genuine masterpieces of electronic pop: the sound and voice are icy and immersed in a dark future, yet they still manage to convey a mysterious, enveloping charm - there is no concession whatsoever to the more commercial side of techno-pop, and even the seemingly easiest moments conceal a subtle sonic exploration with little inclination to compromise. "Don't You Want Me", from the album "Dare" (1981), would remain their biggest hit.

From a splinter of Human League came Heaven 17/B.E.F.: two different projects sharing the same masterminds. The first name is responsible for a decent techno-pop album, "Penthouse And Pavement" (82), tinged with funk and soul. The second produced an album straddling experimentalism and techno-pop, "Music Of Quality And Distinction Vol. 1" (82).

Following in the wake of the icy, (apparently) aseptic rhythms and sounds of Gary Numan and Human League are Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark (O.M.D.), the duo of Paul Humphreys and Andy McCluskey, whose self-titled debut album from '80 seems to echo certain Kraftwerk-like synthetic atmospheres. On the following "Organisation" from 1980 (which features that techno-pop anthem known as "Enola Gay"), commercial instincts become predominant and decisive for their sound.

Pleasantly electronic atmospheres would also mark the work of Australia's Icehouse, who became especially popular with the single “Hey Little Girl”.

Let's move on to Soft Cell, a duo (voice and electronic keyboards) modeled on America's Suicide. After an extraordinary single like “Memorabilia” (1980), the group recorded one of the most seminal and compelling records of the entire electro-new wave scene, “Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret” (1981), which would get a dance-oriented follow-up with “Non-Stop Ecstatic Dancing” ('82). What appears on the surface to be simple synth-pop reveals itself, on closer listening, to be a melting pot in which electro flashes of inspiration, richly distinctive arrangements and an underlying emotional coldness — brought to life, though, by the warm, deeply invested voice of Marc Almond — blend together into something singular and cohesive, giving the sense of a landmark record.

After “The Art Of Falling Apart” ('83), an interesting album whose sound is at times excessive and baroque, Soft Cell split up, but not before releasing “This Last Night In Sodom” ('84), another masterpiece in which a more measured, leaner electronic sound confronts and mirrors a dark, suffocating gloom that is nonetheless extraordinarily enveloping. Almond would go on to a solo career that was uneven, but at times exhilarating.

The The is a name that refers less to a band than to a musical project, since behind that moniker lies only Matt Johnson. On the debut album, “Burning Blue Soul” ('81), there's an intriguing blend of modern psychedelia and gently electronic sounds. The following “Soul Mining” ('83) has all the hallmarks of a true masterpiece: techno-pop suggestions with no leaning towards commercial compromise, enlivened by razor-sharp electro, tribal, soul and even folk flourishes, forming an utterly innovative sonic blend.

Starting out with pleasant synth-pop sounds (“It's My Life”, “Such A Shame”, “Tomorrow Started”), Mark Hollis's Talk Talk would go on to reach new frontiers of instrumental rock, venturing into solutions bordering on jazz and foreshadowing the slowcore and post-rock that would follow (the celestial “Spirit Of Eden”).

In those years, several record labels devoted specifically to new wave sounds sprang up in England: worth mentioning are Rough Trade, 4AD (already mentioned), Fiction (home to the Cure), Factory (home to Joy Division) and, more inclined towards electronic sounds, Mute (which also released records by Nick Cave).

This label was also home to the last two acts we'll examine, Fad Gadget and Depeche Mode. The former is actually a moniker behind which stands a single figure, Frank Tovey, responsible for a handful of records — “Fireside Favourites” ('80), “Incontinent” ('81), “Under The Flag” ('82) and “Gag” ('84) — that offer an intriguing, if little-known, cross-section of new wave, poised between experimental minimalism, electronics and theatrical impulses.

Finally, Depeche Mode, the leading act of the English electronic wave, capable of a superb artistic evolution over the years and of a remarkable influence on the sounds to come.

Having started out with two rather unremarkable albums of the most predictable, dance-leaning techno-pop — “Speak And Spell” (1981) and “A Broken Frame” (1982), on which Martin Gore permanently took over songwriting duties from departing member Vince Clarke — by the following “Construction Time Again” (1983) they were already showing off more complex arrangements and harmonic structures alongside more pronounced electro leanings. The next move was even bolder: “Some Great Reward” ('84) heads down the road of harsh, experimental electronics, a kind of techno-punk in which relentless, entirely sampled noise is skilfully bent to the needs of a sound that's nonetheless made accessible by more pop-oriented touches.

The following album, from '86, is their true masterpiece: even as other “sonic waves” were already pressing forward, in England as in the USA, Depeche Mode distilled into “Black Celebration” (the fruit of Gore's crystalline creativity and Dave Gahan's increasingly charismatic voice) a kind of pop “summa” of all the moods that had run through the most creative new wave, the clearest synthesising instincts of post-punk, the darkest rides of goth, and an electronic exploration in which technique and humanity finally join hands. In a sense, this is the record beyond which lies the point of no return: we're around the mid-1980s, and rock was already tracing out other patterns — new ones, or at any rate far removed from the historical importance, cultural refinement and artistic sensitivity of new wave.

There remain a few groups worth mentioning that would take the lesson of new wave to heart and develop it in other directions, starting with the British shoegazers (Jesus & Mary Chain, still tied above all to dark-wave sounds, My Bloody Valentine, Slowdive), continuing on through a certain strand of American hardcore (Fear, Pixies, Husker Du, Smashing Pumpkins, Blonde Redhead) and on to the sophisticated pop-rock of bands like Stereolab, Portishead and Radiohead).

It's inevitable, then, to conclude that new wave was not only one of the most fertile movements in rock, but also one of the most enduring and influential.

Ride the wave of great music

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17/02/2026