The Shadow Ring - Lighthouse (1997/2026)

Continuing Blank Forms Editions' vital "flood the zone" reissue campaign, 1999's 'Lighthouse' opens The Shadow Ring's final act with four sides of sleazed DIY noise, Pythonesque humor and moldy suburban obscurity tipped FFO David Croft, Harry Pussy, Idea Fire Company.

After releasing 'Wax-Work Echoes', their first album as a trio with keyboard player Tim Goss, Graham Lambkin and Darren Harris's band hit the road, touring relentlessly. And they recorded 'Lighthouse' just a year later in 1997 in Coombe House after what was to be their final US tour. So it's a record that sounds as if the trio attempt to find new life in their Folkestone surroundings. Harry Pussy's Adris Hoyos, who moved to the UK for a spell with Lambkin, makes an appearance, as does Idea Fire Company's Karla Borecky and Scott Faust, who released the album and its two follow-ups on his own micro imprint Swill Radio. But despite the lineup, it's a remarkably unembellished set; it's the band's longest album but also their most focused - a set of ouroboros-like absurdities that the trio accompany with mercilessly simple pots 'n pans beats, wormy monosynth wails, field recordings and gurgling oscillations.

"Let them eat pearl, musket pointed at the oyster shell, feet plastered in sea ash and just about fitting into shoes," deadpans Harris on 'Oyster Shell'. There's barely any traditional accompaniment on this one, just a pulsing Casio watch-style high-pitched synth, an eerie wail and the occasionally aborted vamp. "And just because of that a pearl from a shell rolls down to the 18th century and has a really nice time." Lambkin's lyrics are even more tongue-in-cheek this time around, almost more aware of the impenetrableness of British humor, its baked-in reference points and colloquialisms. And when Faust narrates his lyrics in a strong American accent on 'If It Is a Boy', it only hammers home the point: "Fancy nipping home for a swift half," he drawls before ear-piercing synths cut in. He spars with Harris on the brief 'Francois deLoys', bellowing over feedback until the two fall into fits of laughter.

On the second disc, Lambkin's solemn, simplistic piano phrases cut thru the atmosphere alongside Hoyos' clattering full-kit rhythms. On 'Fish and Hog' you can even hear her voice next to Harris - it only lasts moments, but highlights just how much the group had evolved since the days of 'City Lights'. They might have been looking inward on 'Lighthouse', inspecting British cultural bric-a-brac with fresh eyes, but they'd never sounded quite so weathered and international. Fantastically spannered, singular material - and completely unmissable whether you're into Beefheart, Bolan or Basil Brush.