Nick Lowe—Jesus of Cool

Nick Lowe—Jesus of Cool

Jesus of Cool—Pub rock was dying, and so would Rockpile. Co-leader Dave Edmunds would continue in the traditionalist rock and roll strain for a number of years, while principal songwriter Nick Lowe would make more adjustments to his approach. But in Rockpile's '70s heyday, the band's output would already exemplify these differences. Edmunds' albums featured some Edmunds/Lowe or Billy Bremner compositions but mostly consisted of rock and roll or country covers; Lowe's were almost all originals or written by contemporary musicians. Jesus of Cool, known in its U.S. incarnation as Pure Pop for Now People, lives up to its tongue-in-cheek title, delivering a litany of sarcastic but utterly joyful could-be, would-be hits.

Radar Records, a subsidiary of Warner, was founded in 1978; Nick Lowe had its first single, "(I Love the Sound of) Breaking Glass"/"They Called It Rock." He and his manager had jumped ship from Stiff, where Lowe had recorded that label's first single, "So It Goes"/"Heart of the City," and EP, Bowi. If it sounds like the confusion among labels and legal stipulations are petty, Lowe probably agreed. "Music for Money" explicitly attacks the commercialism in rock music of the time, as well as the excessive drug use and promiscuous sex in the scene. At first glance Lowe and his song appear to herald straight edge culture, but the tone suggests more of a simple observation. "(I Love the Sound of) Breaking Glass" is a delightful pop tune that is perhaps another nod to Low, after Bowi had already referenced David Bowie the previous year—though the booklets to The Doings (1999) and the 2008 reissue of Jesus of Cool stipulate respectively that Bowi title may have been the label's doing and that Lowe's "Breaking Glass" is "an ode to a trashed dressing room."

"Little Hitler" is a nuanced criticism that could be directed at any number of people or groups, but beyond that is quintessential Rockpile. Dave Edmunds delivers excellent backing vocals and country-inflected acoustic guitar underscored by Lowe's melodic bass lines. Friend, label mate, and frequent collaborator Elvis Costello would record "Two Little Hitlers" on the Lowe-produced Armed Forces later the same year. "Shake and Pop" is another criticism of the money-making aspects of the music scene, not technically included on the U.S. release but it does appear in the cleaner form of "They Called It Rock," which is done more in Edmunds' style than Lowe's. "Shake and Pop" ends up being the more effective of the two because the ragged instrumentation better paints the picture of Lowe's vision of music hell. "Tonight" is one of Lowe's trademark impish serenades and goes hand-in-hand with non-album single "American Squirm," which can be considered the bridge between Jesus of Cool and Labour of Lust (1979). That single would also feature Elvis Costello and (most of) the Attractions as his backing band; the B-side was Costello's "What's So Funny 'Bout (Peace, Love and Understanding", written by Lowe and originally recorded by Lowe's first band, Brinsley Schwarz.

"So It Goes" is the killer app here, a four-chord attack performed with such fire by Lowe and Rockpile that it's strange to think "Reelin' in the Years" by Steely Dan was its likely basis. Lyrically it is one of his most cerebral, based in the themes of Slaughterhouse-Five, while performance-wise he shows just how good he can be on the electric bass. "No Reason" is its low-key cousin, probably the plainest song on the album but still welcome for its organ-twinged groove. The influence of Jim Ford can be heard when compared to the following "36 Inches High." Lowe partially makes Ford's country original his own, presenting it as more of a peculiar, distorted march, which does seem to fit the subject matter. "Marie Provost" is the partially true story of silent film actress Marie Prevost and her death. It suffices to say that only Nick Lowe could turn a lurid, sorrowful account into an uplifting three-minute jewel.

Lowe seems to sum up his feelings on "Nutted by Reality," a good companion to "So It Goes" that reads like a quaint allegory. A live version of "Heart of the City" ends the original LP, which is probably not superior to its studio version but is by no means offensive. The U.S. release instead featured the latter, as well as "Rollers Show," seen variously as either a partial tribute to or a shot at the Bay City Rollers. It was a sequel of sorts to "Bay City Rollers, We Love You," Lowe's attempt to distance himself from his then-label.¹ Ironically, it became popular in Japan where the Rollers were held in high regard; "Rollers Show" was probably included on Pure Pop for Now People with similar hopes of it being a paradoxical hit.

"The Japanese kids who were all Rollers fans, they had no idea I was taking a rather sort of jaundiced view of their heroes, you know." —Nick Lowe, 2007 interview

A hit but not a hit, Jesus of Cool spent thirty years without a reissue outside the U.K. along with much of Nick Lowe's catalog. It was the crossroads between time-honored rock and roll, U.K. punk, and new wave, with Lowe being the central figure in much of what spawned these movements. But more importantly, the music is just plain terrific, and if there's a message to be heard here, it's a plain one—beyond the posturing and excess, the contracts and legal issues, the music itself is the important thing.

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1 http://dangerousminds.net/comments/bay_city_rollers_we_love_you_nick_lowes_secret_musical_love_letter^↩