Mummer (1983)

Mummer (1983)

This could very well be the most controversial placement of any album on this list. Seen by many as a huge stumble after the relative greatness that was English Settlement, this is, by my reckoning, an overlooked classic in the XTC discography.

The first person to disagree with me might be former drummer Terry Chambers. He appears on only two tracks — opening cuts “Beating Of Hearts” and “Wonderland” — because he decided early on in the recording and rehearsal process that he wanted out. Speculation abounds on what tipped him over: being in England while his wife was in Australia; frustration that the band refused to tour again; the jazzy, pastoral shift in the music.

Whatever the reason, his absence is palpable on Mummer, even though it might have been the best thing for the album. I’m willing to be proven wrong here, but I don’t think he could have pulled off the brush stroke shuffle beat of “Ladybird” or the auxiliary percussion tangle on “Love On A Farmboy’s Wages” with the grace that stand-in Peter Phipps does. Even at his most textural — as with his pleasurable hi-hat rolls of Settlement’s “Yacht Dance” — he stays tied to a more rockish approach to his instrument via those cracking drum fills that interrupt the swirling mood.

Partridge has referred to this album as being “bright sky blue,” which is a great approximation of the summery, arms akimbo essence that swells from so many of these songs. You can almost hear the smile on his face as he sings “Beating Of Hearts,” “Human Alchemy,” and “Ladybird.” Moulding must have been feeling much the same, as his contributions are wistful, ruminative, and, on “Deliver Us From The Elements,” worshipful of the natural world.

Yet with all the straightforward sentiments of the lyrics, nothing else about these songs (save the album closer “Funk Pop A Roll”) moves as you would expect them to. They open the album with a Middle Eastern-inspired beat, the “one” slapping down in the middle of each measure. “Wonderland” threatens to take off, but instead hovers in front of you, fluttering and teasing. For such a light song, “Human Alchemy” lurches and groans, Frankenstein’s monster-style. And “Me And The Wind” never does settle on a time signature for very long. By the time “Funk Pop A Roll” swoops in at the end, the straight 4/4 beat and Byrds-ian guitars feel almost revelatory in the wake of what came before.

For all the struggles that XTC had with Virgin Records over the years, we should extend them some congratulations for this album. The band turned Mummer in, and the A&R department scoffed at the lack of singles on it. Dutifully, Partridge went back to the drawing table and sketched out one of his most indelible combinations of melody and lyrics, “Great Fire.”

The label rejoicing at this new tune is a surprise considering how unusual it really is, with the verses in 3/4, the choruses in 4/4, and Partridge’s free-jazz sax playing that is folded just so into the mix. Still, the album was saved, and the single … well, it got played a single time on BBC Radio and never charted. “Great Fire,” though, works very well on the album, cutting directly between the Pentangle-like maypole dance of “Love On A Farmboy’s Wages” and Moulding’s hypnotic “Deliver Us From The Elements.”

The disappointment fans and critics felt towards Mummer at the time does make sense, as they were likely hoping for English Settlement II. Looked at today, this album was really setting the table for the work they would do on Skylarking. It took the trenchant slog of The Big Express and the mischievous diversion of the first Dukes Of Stratosphear release to get there, but it was the meandering and thoughtful Mummer that lit the fuse.