Rico Conning’s musical career began with The Lines, a legendary post-punk combo. He went on to become a studio wizard, recording Wire, remixing Depeche Mode, and producing Martin Gore and Frank Tovey for Mute Records. As the engineer for Guerilla Studios, Conning worked closely with William Orbit and Laurie Mayer, whom he joined as Torch Song in 1995.
If you look at the sleeve notes, you will find Conning credited on works by S’Express, Test Dept., Laibach, Coil, Colourbox, The Bambi Slam, Pere Ubu – getting the picture, yet?
So, when Conning steps into the studio to record his own material, what do you get? The answer is Frogmore, a sophisticated and weighty album.
The opening track, “Mustang,” is named for the guitar Conning used on The Lines’ “White Nights.” That song became part of the core Torch Song curriculum (Bonus points for knowing that a version was recorded with Sarah Blackwood at the microphone but it is Laurie Mayer’s voice on the track that was released). Conning notes that there are some thematic elements in common between “White Nights” and “Mustang;” but, to the attuned ear, there are also echoes of Colin Newman in the vocals. That is a cool thing.
The song runs to almost ten minutes, which would represent almost half of a side of a vinyl LP. As an album opener, it would be an unusual and commercially brave choice in the hit-driven world where Conning has made his name. Freed from any profit motive and the restrictions of physical media, however, the atmosphere is able to spread like the bands of a rainbow.
In any event, for those keeping time, the next track clocks in at 15:49.
“Frogmore” takes its name from a cabin that Conning occupied in Malibu for many years. It goes through themes as an electro-ambient composition before transitioning into a poem based upon Conning’s memories of the space and its sounds.
“Fluxus” follows – not a reference to the art movement that drew in Yoko Ono so much as a combination of Cocteau Twins chords and a synth-led part that Conning had been looking for a home for since 1994. Nestled between the reverberating guitar sections, it is a neat piece of Krautrock that could have been carried out of Conny’s Studio twenty years earlier.
Conning’s a talented singer, and when his voice is joined to the mix the song is lifted into a dreampop state of mind. This is music for running along a beach or watching the Sun drop into the ocean.
The album wraps with “Mercury,” drawn from a forthcoming project, On a Wire. In places, it has the psychedelic feel of a Nico song, and one can almost feel her waiting for the cue to come in.
Frogmore is an accomplished work. Conning has drawn deeply from his well to create a personal work that will resonate with an open-minded audience as naturally as anything from the artists he has recorded.
“My life is my art,” says Cosey Fanni Tutti. On the flip side, “My art is my life.”
The musical history of Throbbing Gristle has been told and re-told by its participants, but Cosey’s Art, Sex, Music (Faber) reveals just how complex and emotionally charged the personal relationships between its members were. As the sole female member of the group, Cosey spent time in bed with each of her bandmates, separately or together (though, in Sleazy’s case, it must be said, in the interests of an anatomy lesson). This fueled tensions that eventually pulled the band apart: P-Orridge, who initially encouraged group escapades, grew to resent Cosey’s independence and used violence to show his feelings; while Cosey and Carter sought relief from P-Orridge’s tantrums in each other.
If you’re going to call your band Cosmic Overdose, you’re going to have to deal with some preconceptions. The first is that you are a bunch of hippies, sitting in fairy rings and tripping on mushrooms. The second is that your material consists of overblown guitar solos. If your music is actually varied and complex, inspired by dada, punk and experimental electronics, and you are meant to be warming up for New Order, then it might be time to rethink the name.
If there is a surprise in the recently issued 
The first album they shared with the world was Dada Koko. From the opening number, “Investera i Framtida,” with its synthetic waves, it was clear that something new was being born. “Modern Dadaister” isn’t a million miles from XTC’s jerkier sound, when it starts, before growing into something trippier. There is a moment of calm in the arc of the album before “Tanten” explodes with a burst of dark energy. The Arp synth returns on the album closer, “
The second album, 4668, showed that the Swedes had absorbed something from Joy Division. As the Manchester doom-meisters had done, Cosmic Overdose were starting to push through the punk chrysalis to emerge as something more electronic. Their transformation into Twice a Man would put them at the forefront of the Swedish synth scene and keep them in its top tier for a generation. In the meantime, fans had the brooding “Android,” the well-crafted “Nina Fontanell” and the charming “Liten Storsint” to contemplate.
The third CD in this package collects live recordings, singles and strays from the archives. “Observation Galen” from 1979 is here with its B-side, “Isolatorer.” Then there are live versions of “Suicide Case,” “Ruta Nr 1” and “Läckan” from a show the same year in Kalmar. They reveal a band confident in its presentation with spellbinding material. Further live sessions follow from shows in Oslo, Lund and Stockholm (with an appearance by Lars Falk on “Väx och Njut”) before the album closes with the single, “To Night.”