Sombrero Fallout
Pump

Catalog#: Plague 016
Format: CD
Status: Available in our SHOP

17 years later, mythical album sees the light of day!
Recorded between 1988-1992. Mixed at ICR by Colin Potter.
Dedicated to Andrew Cox.

Tracklisting
1. A Knife, Possibly
2. Yukiko
3. Julian Bream
4. Smollensky's Balloon
    (Guitar by Colin Potter)
5. The 'Wife' Container
6. Apolinaire Enamelled
7. Étoile De Mer
8. Falling From Grace
9. Precise Copy Of The Event

Liner notes by David Elliott:
Sombrero Fallout was Pump's second album (or seventh if you counted their cassette output as MFH). It was due to be released in 1993 but for inexplicable reasons it never happened. It's surprising if gratifying, then, that it should finally see the light of day 17 years later. But first some history.

Pump were Andrew Cox and David Elliott. They met in 1979 in Brighton on the first day of the first year at university, living on the same campus corridor and discovering a shared passion for leftfield music, much of which happened to be German or electronic or both. Another quick realization was that they were not model students. David started a radio show and a magazine (Neumusik), a group was formed (MFH) and a cassette label initiated (YHR).

Over the next three years MFH released five cassette albums - First Move (1980), Within 30 Miles (1980), Masks (1980), Ground Zero (1981) and Head (1982) - all on the YHR label, and played a handful of gigs, sometimes to an audience. The music was spontaneous (usually recorded live), raw and definitely odd, with a nod to the German scene, Throbbing Gristle and Cabaret Voltaire from the UK, and the heinously overlooked Heldon from France.

During the mid-80s, with Andrew in Cornwall and David newly arrived in London, playing and recording together was sporadic to put it mildly. A track appeared on Dave Henderson's semi-legendary Elephant Table Album (1983) as well as numerous other cassette compilations. A support slot at the Hammersmith Clarendon showed they were still as unprofessional as ever. Meanwhile David joined the two other Davids (Henderson and Tibet) at Sounds, each battling to review the weirdest, most obscure band possible. It was perhaps not coincidental that the once great music weekly folded a few years later.

In 1986 Andrew moved to within commuting distance of London and as a result the pair started recording on a more regular basis. MFH became Pump. Material was amassed and out came The Decoration of the Duma Continues (1987) on Final Image. The music was a strange mixture, ranging from - as Melody Maker put it - "the clanging and abrasion of rusted and misaligned gears and ratchets" to "the pealing of bells heard in a delirium". Whatever, it didn't make the Top 20.

Other bits and pieces followed although, as the pair had 'respectable' day jobs (Andrew a computer programmer, David an arts manager), the gaps between the bits and the pieces became somewhat lengthy. Some concerts were played to promote the album, including an appearance at the UK Electronica Festival in Stafford and a support slot to Danielle Dax in London. A track appeared on a BBC documentary about trains. And work began on the 'difficult second album'.

Sombrero Fallout was recorded in various locations and mixed by Colin Potter at ICR. It was due to be released by Trident Music International in 1993 but for unfathomable reasons it never happened. A pity, as it was a more mature, consistent album than Decoration... The rest of the 90s saw the duo drift apart as day jobs took precedence, with David's move to Japan effectively signaling Pump's demise.

Fast forward to 2009 and Andrew's tragic death, the result of a long battle with alcoholism. For those who knew him, we will miss his intelligence, wit and creativity. Strangely it coincided with renewed interest in the early 80s cassette culture, MFH and the fact that Sombrero Fallout never got the release it deserved. Plague Recordings stepped in and here it is. It's for everyone out there, but really it's for Andrew.

Reviews
"From the annals of '80s tape culture Plague Recordings have uncovered raw gold in the form of Pump's semi-mythical 'Sombrero Fallout' album. Previously known as MFH on their own YHR label, Pump were Andrew Cox and David Elliott, a pair of like-minded electronic music fiends who met at Brighton uni in '79. After spilling five cassette albums of underground industrial strains inspired by Throbbing Gristle, Cabaret Voltaire, Faust and Heldon, they spent the middle of the '80s largely estranged, with David writing for the notorious Sounds magazine alongside David Tibet, and Andrew working in Cornwall. In '87 they finally recorded new material, heard on 'The Decoration of The Duma Continues', before colluding for this, their final album which was supposed to emerge on Trident Music International, but sadly didn't due to unknown reasons. The untimely death of Andrew in 2009 prompted a resurgence of interest, and with the utmost respect, we're f*cking blessed that it did as it's just the find of the year.

Quite interestingly the album was mixed by Colin Potter of Nurse With Wound, which goes some way to describing the close, dark ambient nature of their sound, but there's many more factors at play which make 'Sombrero Fallout' so riveting. 'A Knife, possibly' sets a sour atmosphere with chugging slow drum machines and a guitar drone industrially dubbed for arcing, widescreen effect, while 'Yukiko' features spiraling marimbas diffused into stereo patterns with mournful, ghostly synths sounding like Zoviet*France gone strangely new age. At the mid way point we enter 'The 'Wife' Container', an incredibly claustrophobic and sickly doomscape with over-saturated bass hum and the distant sound of groaning guitars tortured in some sadistic dungeon ritual for over nine minutes. No sh*t, this is intensely dark stuff! Next, 'Apolinaire Enammelled' combines a reverb laden motorik backbeat somewhere between Stephen Morris and Klaus Dinger, with twirling raga-esque psychedelia, again benefitting from the Colin Potter treatment to sound drugged to the nails, followed with the stoically centred 'Etoile de mer', a blissfully darkside arrangement of beatless ambience. Their swan song 'Falling From Grace' approaches the end with a chilling display of unholy, crawling synth tones and spectral axe work shielding a lone vocal, delivered with reserve and an arcane sense of timing. Fuuuck.

This album has really touched a nerve in our office, reminding us of our favourite Industrial, darkwave and New Beat, or all those other '80s genres whose unholy allure we've always been susceptible to, and best of all, it does it without the slightest hint of fromage or pastiche. Honestly, this is beyond essential for anyone with a darker soul. " (www.boomkat.com)

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