Wire -- Pink Flag: Throwback Track-by-Track

Wire -- Pink Flag

[Harvest]

The most popular song by classic British punk band Wire according to Apple Music is “1 2 X U” and it is rightfully so. The song is a self-contained pub punk epic with explosive riffs, inhumanly fast drums, and beer-quenched vocals that angrily command the attention of anyone listening. It’s a classic of punk rock, going on to influence hundreds of punk bands down the line and perfectly display the inherent anger of punk music to millions in only 1 minute and 55 seconds.

Brevity has always been a central tenet of punk, and it’s been woven into the very fabric of the genre’s origins because it was exactly what rock music wasn’t. The increasingly bloated structures and kitsch lyrical concepts of mainstream prog rock meant songs in the 70s were getting to be 6-7 minutes long, indulging in fantastically, whitewashed concepts that were overly dramatic and over-produced (See Tales from Topographical Oceans by Yes). Or at least, that’s how punk saw it.

And on the other side of the musical spectrum, the race to see how fast and short you could make your song was started, and each year of the 70s a new band came forth to push the needle farther. One could say it all started with Patti Smith, then the Ramones, and then the Clash, and I’m sure some long-winded cultural analysis could find you the exact lineage. But I assure you, no one was prepared for the ferocity and cut-and-dry anger on Wire’s 1977 debut record Pink Flag.

Along with “1 2 X U”, Pink Flag set a blueprint for the kind of speed and ferocity that would be a staple of 80s hardcore music. With its impervious political vigor, blistering speed, and thrilling sonic diversity, the album delivers an iconic originality that persists in every single one of the album’s 21 tracks. Yeah that’s right. 21 freaking songs on this thing. And for your entertainment, I will do my best to break down all of them.

“Reuters”

The creeping opening guitar strumming that enters Pink Flag is a slow build into a heavy chugging one note dirge that perfectly sets the stage for the kinds of sounds you’ll hear on this album. The guitar tones are heavy, the drums are hefty, and lead singer Colin Newman’s vocals are like the barking commands of a British drill sergeant. As the song marches through its outro, haunting chants begin, referring to the apocalyptic brutality of Southeast Asian proxy wars and the marches of soldiers. Despite the song’s deceptively simple composition, the music is captivating: spiritually charged and oddly traumatic. This song is a fantastic opener, not only in how it forces you into this dark world that Wire creates, but also in setting the energy for how the rest of the album will be.

“Field Day for the Sundays”

“Field Day for the Sundays” wastes no time in showing you the kind of whiplash you’ll experience listening to Pink Flag. This long runs through several culturally critical stanzas about gotcha journalism over cheeky guitars in 28 short seconds.

“Three Girl Rhumba”

It’s that kind of snappy energy pervading through “Field Day…” and this song, “Three Girl Rhumba,” that is a defining characteristic of Wire’s Pink Flag. The swaggering shouts paired with power chord minimalism makes their songs irresistibly bouncy and you can’t help but bob your head to the guitar licks.

“Ex-Lion Tamer”

The quick flashes of “Three Girl Rhumba” and “Ex-Lion Tamer” are assertive, flipping through your mind like images in a slideshow. It’s explosive, and colorful, but never overwhelming. Wire’s fascination with rock and roll minimalism led them to a 4-piece tool set of instruments that they take in every direction. This song’s intentionally commercial-sounding guitar riff somehow manages to stay interesting, while artistically linking with the satirical lyrics on middle-class television obsession.

“Lowdown”

This kind of black-and-white view of the world in “Ex Lion Tamer” isn’t isolated, and exists throughout most of Pink Flag’s tracklist; especially in “Lowdown,” which exudes dichotomous anger in its hypnotic two-note riff. It harnesses the evil side of Wire’s sound and resonates like an impending force of doom on the listener with its angsty bass riff and rattling ride cymbals.

Like a lot of tracks on Pink Flag, I’m not really sure what this song means. It’s lyrics are vague and present sparse imagery of concrete and football. But does it matter? Eh, not really. Even at their most abstract, Wire is able to offer deeply nuanced images through their instrumentation that nearly dissuade the need for any lyrics at all.

“Start to Move”

This next string of tracks show what I’d consider one of the most brilliant aspects of Pink Flag and why it still holds up. Despite the album’s intimidating 21-song tracklist, the album runs smooth like butter. Each song transitions perfectly to the next, cleanly bouncing back and forth with riffs flinging like pinballs.

This near-perfect pacing isn’t only because of the transitions and order, but mostly from the songwriting. Each of these <2-minute tracks tease their riffs and songwriting just long enough for it to stick in your mind, but never too much to bore. “Start to Move” expertly runs through verses and choruses with strong performances that perfectly guide the energy through its 70-second runtime.

And that’s part of what makes this so distinct. A near-perfect 21-track album like this is really only possible in punk, a genre that is based in high energy and fast speeds, allowing for ideas to be used and tossed at breakneck pace.

“Brazil”

Every time I listen to this record, I’m always flabbergasted at how “Brazil” plays its quirky vocals and iconic riff so memorably in just 41 seconds.

“It’s So Obvious”

“It’s So Obvious” serves punky train-of-thought lyrics mentioning colors, the year 1977, and rotations per minute, not really making much sense. (You check out the lyrics and tell me in the comments what you think it means hmmmm????)

But does it matter? Eh, not really.

“Surgeon’s Girl”

Another catchy 70 seconds which poses more questions than answers. “I’ve seen you in glossy mags, glossy mags, I’ve seen you in glossy mags,” Newman says. My approximation is that it’s some kind of scenario where the singer imagines seeing a celebrity in real life. Don’t know what it means, again.

But does it matter? Eh, not really.

“Pink Flag”

If Pink Flag were a well-decorated upscale WASP dining room, the title track would be the floral centerpiece in the middle of the room. This song is the deafeningly loud heart of the record. It ties its minimalist guitars with angry lyrics questioning the number of dead, feeling like a funeral dirge for the lives lost. As the song trudges along, the group chants of “how many? How many?” repeat, slowly building in speed over an accelerating snare march. As the tempo builds to nearly triple the speed to where it was before, all of the band members let out blood-curdling screeches as they beat the shit out of their instruments. And just like every other song on Pink Flag, it’s amazing how many emotions they can pack into this simple song--from meditative respect for the dead to unrelenting punk fury at the red-handed perpetrators.

“The Commercial”

This song is Wire doing their best impression of high-paced advertisements and their kitschy, cheering attitudes. I suddenly feel like I want to buy something.

“Straight Line”

These next few songs accentuate one of my favorite aspects of punk and specifically Wire’s take on it: musical violence.

Punk is an inherently violent musical form. In its very lifeblood is performance of violence, whether it be the musicians beating the shit out of their instruments, the crowd moshing with each other, or the crowd coming on stage to fight the musicians. Many more bands after 1977 would explore the physicalities of violence in punk in the coming years as hardcore music was popularized in pockets of America like Los Angeles and Minnesota.

Wire took this feeling and diverted the violence against their own music. The chords feel exhausted, almost abused, being pushed to their limits like the instruments are fighting the music. In “Straight Line” we hear the band viciously whipping between chords that are changing so quickly, I can feel the damn calluses on fingers.

“106 Beats That”

“106 Beats That” is the most melodically dissonant song on Pink Flag, jumping between this mangled verse melody, pop bridge progression, and a writhing instrumental interlude that leads into a word-jumbled outro. The lyrics are all over the place.

But does it matter? Eh, not really.

“Mr Suit”

“Mr Suit” deserves a place in the hallowed halls of classic punk more than any other on here. It's a juvenile protest against corporate conformity, compartmentalizing that anger into a character named ‘Mr Suit’ that it absolutely bombards with insults.

Take your fucking money and shove it up your arse

'Cause you think you understand, well it's a fucking farce

I'm tired of fucking phonies, that's right, I'm tired of you

Paired with its iconic riff and angry performances, it just doesn’t get better than that folks.

“Strange”

A few songs like “106 Beats That”, the title track, and “Strange” foretell the future for Wire after Pink Flag. Their second record Chairs Missing features an incredibly different sonic palette, putting Wire’s experimental synth work in the forefront. After that, the band dove further into sonic experimentation, abandoning the blunt trauma of the first record.

While I appreciate Wire’s post-Pink Flag stuff, there’s certainly something tragic here. While Wire went on to make one of the most visionary post-punk discographies, it’s sad that Pink Flag was their only entry that was in this vain classic punk style. The compelling sound of this album and its 21 pistol-fire tracks leaves the listener only wanting more, and it’s sad that there isn’t really anything else out there of this stage of Wire.

That’s what makes this album so prevalent as an influence for other punk artists. If they couldn’t have anymore of Wire’s iconic one-note art punk, they’d make it themselves. And that’s why so many following punk legends like the Minutemen and Minor Threat made the music they did, with Pink Flag as a heavy influence on their work.

“Strange” defines the bridge between Pink Flag and the rest of their work--teasing futuristic noise work and squeaky saxophones with the artsy punk of the debut.

“Fragile”

With “Fragile” the reserved romanticism of Wire finally comes through, in an obtuse punk song where the singer reveals his emotional instability.

“Mannequin”

“Mannequin” is the headline banger of Pink Flag. It’s a masterpiece of pop punk and radiates swagger like no other song on the album. If this chord progression could be transformed into an image, I’d have it tattooed on my chest.

The song weaponizes the idea of boredom in romance with group doowop chants that are infectiously catchy. Even with its two-part chord progression, the band has a brilliant level of chemistry in their instrumentation and vocals to make a hit that should have topped the radio charts. And yet it didn’t.

Well, at least it’s Spotify’s favorite Wire song.

“Different To Me”

“Different To Me” is the only song to feature outsourced lyrics. While most lyrics on Pink Flag are penned by guitarist Graham Lewis, this song’s lyrics are contributed by Annette Green, who also gave the front cover image.

“Champs”

More blistering pop punk that won’t forgive and never forgets. Think “We Are The Champions.”

“Feeling Called Love”

This is the most classic rock Wire gets with this psych rock-sounding riff backing the narrator’s feelings of accepting love.

“1 2 X U”

“Alright. Here it is. Again. And it’s called: 1 2 X U!!”

As we circle back on “1 2 X U,” we return to the most summative part of Pink Flag. This album is iconic. It’s bold. It’s colorful. It’s cynical. It explodes in your face and leaves the room in an instant. It’s 21 tracks and it’s almost perfect. It made waves after it and will be remembered for its striking originality.

Even though the album was merely a phase for the band, it remains a timeless work to myriads of musicians and music fans who tout it as the album that introduced them to punk. And despite my ramblings on each track, there’s still plenty more to take out of it. It’s albums like these that stand as pillars of ultimate originality. While recreations of these exact moments will never reach the brilliance of the originals, they stand as blueprints for genius and how musicians can produce an entire universe in one LP.

Listen To: “Mannequin”, “1 2 X U”, “Lowdown”, “Three Girl Rhumba”, “Mr Suit”

RIYL: Parquet Courts, Talking Heads, Ramones, Velvets

10/10.