KEVIN COYNE
''SUGAR CANDY TAXI''
1999
43:15
1 Sugar Candy Taxi (Kevin Coyne, Robert Coyne) 02:42
2 Porcupine People 03:37
3 Highway Of Dreams 01:43
4 Happy Little Fat Man (Kevin Coyne, Robert Coyne) 01:05
5 The Garden Gate Song 02:23
6 I'm Into Your Game 02:47
7 My Wife's Best Friend (Kevin Coyne, Robert Coyne) 02:51
8 Little White Arms 00:42
9 Rusting Away 01:33
10 Bird Brain (Kevin Coyne, Robert Coyne) 03:53
11 Tiger Lilian 02:51
12 Fly 04:09
13 Almost Dying (Kevin Coyne, Robert Coyne) 03:24
14 Normal Man 02:24
15 It Hurts 02:03
16 Lancashire Song 05:00
Tracks By Kevin Coyne, Except As Indicated
Alexandre Bätzel/Drums On 1, 4
Robert Coyne/Guitar On 1, 4, 7, 10, 12, 13; Drums On 10, 13; Keyboards On 1, 4, 10, 13, 15
Eugene Coyne/Keyboards On 15; Vocals On 12
Hans Raths/Saxophone, Flute
Kevin Coyne/Vocals, Acoustic Guitar, Keyboards On 15
REVIEWS
By Richie Unterberger / AMG
"I see this record as a return to roots, as a heartfelt blast from the soul," writes Coyne in the liner notes. That's an overdone sentiment when it comes to artists promoting their latest album, but in this case it is correct. With the exception, oddly, of the title cut, which has a mainstream flavor to the arrangement that seems to have been designed with picking up some airplay or something, the production is usually spare. And that is the context in which Coyne best shines, when his scratchy voice (made scratchier by age) and jagged guitar are at the forefront. (Auteurish artists such as Coyne are never made better by more production.) By the time he repeats "maybe I'm paranoid" throughout the second track, "Porcupine People," you know the eccentric, quasi-disturbed Coyne is back in town. Coyne's extemporized-sounding lyrics are usually witty and occasionally gripping, sometimes getting into territory -- fooling around with "My Wife's Best Friend," the deranged despair of "Normal Man" -- that will unsettle those who want music to soothe rather than provoke. Although much of this is the minimal folky art rock that typified his early '70s work, some care is taken for stylistic variety, as in the wheezy flutes that dance in the background of "Porcupine People, the free jazzy piano and sax of "Rusting Away," or the almost avant-garde gospel of the a cappella voices on "Little White Arms."
BIOGRAPHY
by John Dougan / AMG
Many singer/songwriters have been more heralded, but few produced more good work or did so for longer than Kevin Coyne. While virtually unknown in America, Coyne released dozens of records, most of them very good, that dealt primarily with outsiders: men, women, and children arbitrarily shunted to the fringes of society, or worse, locked away and left alone. His songs could be extraordinarily compassionate and, in the blink of an eye, angry, anguished, and accusatory. Perhaps the most durable and telling image of Kevin Coyne is the cover photo of his album In Living Black & White. On the front, Coyne is smiling and politely bowing to an unseen audience; the back of the album jacket is the same photo taken from the rear, with Coyne clutching an open straight razor.
Born in Derby, England, in 1944, Coyne, like many rock & roll performers who came of age in early postwar Britain, was an art school student who fell in love with American R&B. Living a bohemian life in late-'60s London, Coyne was employed for a while as a socio-therapist for alcoholics and the emotionally disturbed, jobs that would profoundly affect his approach to music. In 1969 his first band, Siren, signed to influential BBC DJ John Peel's specialty label, Dandelion. Two years and two excellent records later, Peel dissolved his label and Coyne embarked on a solo career. Married with two children, Coyne supported both his family and musical career by returning to social work. In many ways, his solo debut, Case History, set the tone for his career. Based on his social work experiences, it was a riveting examination of the desperate search for love by those forcibly exiled to the fringes of society. With his bluesy voice wailing almost inconsolably, Case History is a naked examination of people (Coyne included) whose lives are in constant turmoil: betrayed, institutionalized, unwanted, and mostly unloved. The characters in these songs cry out for attention, and Coyne, never one to buy into England's bureaucratic social work system, howls right along with them.
Case History was very nearly Coyne's swan song, but after a self-imposed exile from music, an opportunity to continue recording as a solo act with almost complete artistic freedom proved too powerful an incentive. In 1973, Coyne began a relationship with the then-fledgling Virgin Records label, which seemed willing to embrace the decidedly noncommercial, difficult performer. For the next eight years, he recorded some of his best music and, somewhat surprisingly, attained a modicum of commercial success, albeit in Europe only. These were mostly edgy folk-rock records tinged with an avant-garde feel for performance art (Coyne was a published poet, too), clearly not easy listening by any stretch of the imagination; neither were these records overly pretentious nor unapproachable.
By the early '80s, Coyne was recording for independent labels, making frustrating, semi-successful records that were erratically released and difficult to find. Exacerbating this bad situation were his worsening mental and physical states: chronic depression culminating in a nervous breakdown and alcoholism that, along with ending his marriage, nearly ended his life. In 1985, he moved to Nuremberg, Germany and began to pick up the pieces, improving his health and forming the Paradise Band. The move also re-sparked his passion for painting and writing, resulting in a handful of published books along with well-received exhibitions of his visual work in the cities of Berlin, Amsterdam, and Zurich. By the time the '90s rolled around, Coyne had reestablished himself as a true underground force, releasing a continuous stream of albums of dizzying variety (and availability). In 2002 he was diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis. He died at his home on December 2, 2004.
OFFICIAL SITE
2 Porcupine People 03:37
3 Highway Of Dreams 01:43
4 Happy Little Fat Man (Kevin Coyne, Robert Coyne) 01:05
5 The Garden Gate Song 02:23
6 I'm Into Your Game 02:47
7 My Wife's Best Friend (Kevin Coyne, Robert Coyne) 02:51
8 Little White Arms 00:42
9 Rusting Away 01:33
10 Bird Brain (Kevin Coyne, Robert Coyne) 03:53
11 Tiger Lilian 02:51
12 Fly 04:09
13 Almost Dying (Kevin Coyne, Robert Coyne) 03:24
14 Normal Man 02:24
15 It Hurts 02:03
16 Lancashire Song 05:00
Tracks By Kevin Coyne, Except As Indicated
Alexandre Bätzel/Drums On 1, 4
Robert Coyne/Guitar On 1, 4, 7, 10, 12, 13; Drums On 10, 13; Keyboards On 1, 4, 10, 13, 15
Eugene Coyne/Keyboards On 15; Vocals On 12
Hans Raths/Saxophone, Flute
Kevin Coyne/Vocals, Acoustic Guitar, Keyboards On 15
REVIEWS
By Richie Unterberger / AMG
"I see this record as a return to roots, as a heartfelt blast from the soul," writes Coyne in the liner notes. That's an overdone sentiment when it comes to artists promoting their latest album, but in this case it is correct. With the exception, oddly, of the title cut, which has a mainstream flavor to the arrangement that seems to have been designed with picking up some airplay or something, the production is usually spare. And that is the context in which Coyne best shines, when his scratchy voice (made scratchier by age) and jagged guitar are at the forefront. (Auteurish artists such as Coyne are never made better by more production.) By the time he repeats "maybe I'm paranoid" throughout the second track, "Porcupine People," you know the eccentric, quasi-disturbed Coyne is back in town. Coyne's extemporized-sounding lyrics are usually witty and occasionally gripping, sometimes getting into territory -- fooling around with "My Wife's Best Friend," the deranged despair of "Normal Man" -- that will unsettle those who want music to soothe rather than provoke. Although much of this is the minimal folky art rock that typified his early '70s work, some care is taken for stylistic variety, as in the wheezy flutes that dance in the background of "Porcupine People, the free jazzy piano and sax of "Rusting Away," or the almost avant-garde gospel of the a cappella voices on "Little White Arms."
BIOGRAPHY
by John Dougan / AMG
Many singer/songwriters have been more heralded, but few produced more good work or did so for longer than Kevin Coyne. While virtually unknown in America, Coyne released dozens of records, most of them very good, that dealt primarily with outsiders: men, women, and children arbitrarily shunted to the fringes of society, or worse, locked away and left alone. His songs could be extraordinarily compassionate and, in the blink of an eye, angry, anguished, and accusatory. Perhaps the most durable and telling image of Kevin Coyne is the cover photo of his album In Living Black & White. On the front, Coyne is smiling and politely bowing to an unseen audience; the back of the album jacket is the same photo taken from the rear, with Coyne clutching an open straight razor.
Born in Derby, England, in 1944, Coyne, like many rock & roll performers who came of age in early postwar Britain, was an art school student who fell in love with American R&B. Living a bohemian life in late-'60s London, Coyne was employed for a while as a socio-therapist for alcoholics and the emotionally disturbed, jobs that would profoundly affect his approach to music. In 1969 his first band, Siren, signed to influential BBC DJ John Peel's specialty label, Dandelion. Two years and two excellent records later, Peel dissolved his label and Coyne embarked on a solo career. Married with two children, Coyne supported both his family and musical career by returning to social work. In many ways, his solo debut, Case History, set the tone for his career. Based on his social work experiences, it was a riveting examination of the desperate search for love by those forcibly exiled to the fringes of society. With his bluesy voice wailing almost inconsolably, Case History is a naked examination of people (Coyne included) whose lives are in constant turmoil: betrayed, institutionalized, unwanted, and mostly unloved. The characters in these songs cry out for attention, and Coyne, never one to buy into England's bureaucratic social work system, howls right along with them.
Case History was very nearly Coyne's swan song, but after a self-imposed exile from music, an opportunity to continue recording as a solo act with almost complete artistic freedom proved too powerful an incentive. In 1973, Coyne began a relationship with the then-fledgling Virgin Records label, which seemed willing to embrace the decidedly noncommercial, difficult performer. For the next eight years, he recorded some of his best music and, somewhat surprisingly, attained a modicum of commercial success, albeit in Europe only. These were mostly edgy folk-rock records tinged with an avant-garde feel for performance art (Coyne was a published poet, too), clearly not easy listening by any stretch of the imagination; neither were these records overly pretentious nor unapproachable.
By the early '80s, Coyne was recording for independent labels, making frustrating, semi-successful records that were erratically released and difficult to find. Exacerbating this bad situation were his worsening mental and physical states: chronic depression culminating in a nervous breakdown and alcoholism that, along with ending his marriage, nearly ended his life. In 1985, he moved to Nuremberg, Germany and began to pick up the pieces, improving his health and forming the Paradise Band. The move also re-sparked his passion for painting and writing, resulting in a handful of published books along with well-received exhibitions of his visual work in the cities of Berlin, Amsterdam, and Zurich. By the time the '90s rolled around, Coyne had reestablished himself as a true underground force, releasing a continuous stream of albums of dizzying variety (and availability). In 2002 he was diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis. He died at his home on December 2, 2004.
OFFICIAL SITE
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