| The Legacy From Punk By Bill Wyman Sally Timms' solo album, To the Land of Milk and Honey, begins with a 
        classic bit of world-weary torch singing: "Round up the usual suspects/ 
        Somebody has broke my heart again." The mix of languor and humor, 
        delivered by her remarkable and expressive voice, set the tone nicely 
        for the striking collection of original and covers that follow. The record 
        is the first of Timms' solo work to be released in America. Timms' voice is of course also one of the most beloved features of the 
        Mekons, the onetime British punk band whose geographic center of gravity 
        has shifted in recent years to Chicago. While co-founder Tom Greenhalgh 
        still lives in Britain, his partner Jon Langford now resides here with 
        his wife, as does former drummer Steve Goulding. Timms, who lives in New 
        York with her husband, made the record here with Langford and a host of 
        other Chicago musicians, notably Kingsize studio owner Dave Trumfio, who 
        helped produce the album, played bass, and contributed a song. (Langford, 
        Goulding, and Trumfio, along with Poi Dog Pondering's Dave Crawford, backed 
        Timms when she played a rare U.S. date at Chicago's Double Door this past 
        May.) Timms' conversation, delivered in an caustic English drawl, is a challenging 
        mixture of sarcasm ("Those little tunes I'd been writing; I had to 
        share them with everyone,") seriousness ("I don't believe in 
        using irony. What's the point? Then it's just a joke record,") self-deprecation 
        ("I'm the laziest woman in any business,") sharp ripostes to 
        questions on subjects deemed boring ("Great. Fas-cin-a-ting,") 
        and wild stories of the touring Mekons sliding across America on a slick 
        of alcohol and vomit. She grew up outside of Leeds; as a child she sang 
        in the church and school choirs but soon had her head turned around, first 
        by glam ("David Bowie was my ultimate hero") and then by punk. 
        "I remember going into W.H. Smith. They printed the chart listing 
        every week, and there'd be a big gap where number one was, because it 
        was [the Sex Pistols' banned] "God Save the Queen." Having met the Buzzcocks' Pete Shelley she got involved in the punk scene 
        and intermittently did musical projects. These included a collaboration 
        with Shelley ("It's a drug record, basically, a punk drug record") 
        called Hangahar, a country-flavored group with violin and accordion, and 
        an all-female outfit called the Shee Hees ("It was all experimental, 
        no structure. We did Lionel Ritchie songs. Our show stopper was 'Hello.' 
        We were riot grannies.") Amidst a classic series of Mekons albums, she put out a solo record, 
        Somebody's Rocking My Dreamboat, in 1988 that never saw American release. 
        For her second effort she acknowledges wanting to make a "classic 
        sounding record." The songs she chose  which include surprisingly 
        compelling tracks from John Cale, Jackie DeShannon, and Procul Harum, 
        as well as four terrific new Timms-Langford numbers  take on 
        political and personal issues but with a grace and perspective that stands 
        apart from the self-obsessiveness of the alternative age. "I don't 
        have any sexual demons," she says. "I never had a problem getting 
        a boyfriend. I don't know if I set my standards too low, but a lot of 
        the kind of problematic [themes] that lot of younger women have don't 
        seem to effect me so much." Instead, she uses her alluring and powerful vocals  "I 
        have a very smooth-sounding voice, a Julie Andrews voice, basically" 
         to animate socio-political themes: the outsiders in Procul 
        Harum's "Homburg" and Trumfio's "Junk Barge," and 
        the caustic commentary in the closing "Deep" ("You're too 
        nice to say a thing/ As they hold your head under.") The Mekons took 
        punk's ideals to heart and, like exactly none of their contemporaries, 
        never lost them. Nearly twenty years on, band members have the empty pockets 
        to prove it. Their career, and Timms' new album, are reminders that punk 
        was something other than a musical form. "We don't try to build up 
        a mystique," Timms says seriously. "People view us as their 
        friends, not rock idols. That's our legacy from punk, that it could be 
        anyone up there, and you shouldn't distance yourself too much."(Chicago Reader's Music Section., Copyright (c) 1996 Chicago 
        Reader, Inc.)
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