'Get Yourself Together' RealAudio discography It happened like this. Somewhere in North London, Sarah was stretched out on the chaise-longue, smoothing out the creases in her silk slip of a dress, taking long, deep drags from a Gauloise Blonde. Sam hadn’t slept for days, secretly strumming his guitar, pausing only to pick at the threadbare bottoms of his brown cords, contemplate the hardships of existence, and check the result of the 3.30 at Chepstow. Jax was in bed, curled up with the cat and swatting flies whenever she could be bothered. It was getting darker. And colder. And there were no windows in this underground cave they had stumbled upon. They had often talked long into the night about another place they could go, somewhere up above where the sun shone, somewhere they had dreamed about for a long time. “But how would we get there?”, breathed Jax, lazily, as another fly hit the wall. “Well,” ventured Sam, “I’ve been writing these songs lately ... but ...” “Let’s hear them !” said Sarah excitedly. And so they developed these new songs, but there was a problem... “The underground restriction police will never allow it,” said Sam. They pondered his words. “Well, then,” said Jax, with rare determination, “we’ll have to escape.” “It dangerous, but it’s a chance we have to take,” agreed Sarah. “Let’s go!” they said - and took their first bold steps into the light. And so they left that underground cave behind, never to return, and got themselves together with the poppiest, most shimmering celebration of a song to come out of North London in a long, long time. In May of 1997, the newly-formed Velocette sprinkled the magic of their debut single “Get Yourself Together” over an unsuspecting world and it just happened to settle in the Melody Maker Single of the Week slot, where they quite rightly sighed “and then the sun comes out, and the other side of that spirit thing this summer sounds like this .... untamed zest and spiritual invincibility which can’t be missed.” And NME joined them, declaring that “Sarah Bleach is a star in waiting ... the band waving two defiant fingers in the face of the indie ghetto”. Jarvis Cocker signalled his approval, playing the single during a DJ stint at Radio One. This glittering ballgown of a song secured Velocette an NME On piece - and the band were later heralded as one of that very mag’s top twenty turn-ons in their 1997 end of year round-up. November saw Fierce Panda release a demo version of “Bitterscene” (described by the band as “Phil Spector does the theme from Bonanza”) on a limited edition compilation which also included the likes of TheAudience and The Unbelievable Truth. Fast forward into 1998, where the band have now completed an album and have wrestled a number of headline gigs and a national tour supporting St Etienne into the bag. By June, Velocette were ready to release their second single, a glorious sunbeam breaking though the clouds of the English summer in the shape of “Spoiled Children”. The critics once more showed their approval - “with its sweep of sorrowful melodies and punk rock basslines, it builds to a bubbling crescendo one suspects Stereolab wouldn’t turn their tiny sniffly snouts up at. Grand.” said NME. i-D called it “a dream collision between the cohesive chords that Stereolab make at their most majestic, and the perfectly processed punk-pop that Lush were always capable of but never quite carried off.” The single was also made Single Of The Week in The Big Issue. The B-side - a cover of The Paris Angel’s “Perfume” - went down just as well, being “transformed into a celestial delight at which one can only froth in admiration.” (NME again). The band also achieved one of their ambitions when not only was “Spoiled Children” played on Coronation Street - but also “Get Yourself Together” made it onto Eastenders fully a year after it was released ! But there’s more to Velocette than just glorious pop songs. “Reborn” is a floating dreamboat of beautiful melancholy, blessed with a mournful horn section and blissed-out folk harmonies, it’s ultimately uplifting, a song of self-discovery and the healing powers of music, themes further explored in the B-sides “Sister” and “Slow Dancing Angels”. And in Fourfold Remedy, Velocette have made a debut album capable of moving from the jazzy, soul-quenching melodies of “Get Yourself Together” and “Spoiled Children” to the conga-fuelled communal funk sound of “Where Are We ?” with an effortless shake of a tailfeather. There’s “La Sirena”, where waves of “Space Oddity” guitars and swooning flutes caress Sarah’s warm seductive vocal in a gentle song about desire. And that same ambition which gave their singles such charismatic verve is reflected in the wonderful orchestral arrangements of the soulful, country-tinged ballad “Unkind” and the mesmerising cinematic sweep of “Submarines” - both of which go to show that Velocette are a band keen to reach new musical heights and new emotional depths. “Someone’s Waiting” may be the most ambitious song of all, opening as a gently pulsing folk song and building to a mind-blowing climax as blistering guitar, frantic percussion and pulsating Hammond merge in an exhilarating slice of latinesque psychedelia. Fourfold Remedy closes with the sorrowful acoustic blues and yearning vocal of “That Ain’t Mine” - final confirmation that Velocette have made a wonderfully diverse debut album made coherent by a rare sense of melody and ambition. So, having made their escape, Velocette can be found moving in new circles. Sarah spends time scouring London’s more fashionable boutiques for “stagewear” and holding dinner parties with Carole King, Ultrasound, Dusty Springfield, Fleetwood Mac and Pulp. Sam has a new pair of brown cords, and if he’s still losing money in his local turf accountants, at least he can find solace in records by The Stone Roses, John Martyn, Fotheringay and The Las. Oh, and drink. And Jax is still in bed, listening to Mazzy Star, Kid Loco, Money Mark and Beth Orton. And so... “there Velocette are, flouncing elegantly around a Parisian dancehall dressed as the Red Hand Gang. Beauteous melodies in bad flares. “Top one”, as they never say in the Louvre.” NME