If this single was rubbish, I just wouldn't bother writing about it but the fact is that it's brilliant. There are four tracks in all:
1. Nineteen Seventy-Three
Starts off with huge doomy orchestra tuning-up noises and then Timestretch morphs into a staccato acoustic guitar (or is it a keyboard?) riff. When the vocals come in, the closest comparison is perhaps a quiet Andy Partridge crossed with a Gedgey accent. The melody is simple and as pop as you can get in a sad song. There's a lovely understated two-bar guitar solo coda. Three minutes of dour splendour.
2. Don't Be A Robot
Mostly acoustic strumming with a swooping leccy guitar countermelody. Sounds a little bit like Luna in their quieter moments or perhaps the Orchids (it's a bit too nasty to be the Fieldmice). Again, a short, sweet pop song that you'll find yourself humming on the loo.
3. I Didn't Understand It So I Gave It A Name
This is my favourite song off the single. First we hear what sounds like a load of geese being buggered. Then it kicks off properly with a rolling Yaffie Fingerbobs acoustic guitar arpeggio over which a bare reed organ surges alongside a trembly harmonica. Lovely, nasty, honest, hurtful and hurt lyrics. What I love about this song is the way it doesn't hesitate in pointing out the writer's failings. There are so many dishonest love songs out there where everything is "I'm an innocent who was wronged". When's love ever that black and white? Really, I can't imagine many people not singing along with this song. If it got onto daytime radio one, it would definitely be a top ten hit - it's just so poppy. Fave lyric : "I don't believe it's in chains, I get turned on by girls with boy's names." Yup.
4. The Clue Is In The Question
The closer for this single that's more insightful and broader than most bands albums. Acoustic guitar and girly harmonies next to a lovely bit of trumpet. I bet the neighbours loved that. Very short, no fat, all meat.
Well, you're gonna kick yourself in the future if you don't buy a copy of this single now. It's already been on Peel and I'd love to see it migrate to the warmer financial climes of Lamacq territory, as unlikely as that is since it's on a real independent label and not a schmindie affiliate of Rio Tito Zinc. Buy this single if you love the Fieldmice, Nick Drake, the Orchids, Leonard Cohen, XTC, Even As We Speak, Luna, The Monkees or Belle & Sebastian. Don't buy it if you want to pogo to gabba.
Bzangy Groink February 2000
Frankie says relax. As damaged as it is defiant.
Record Collector December 1999
'Recorded without the aid of drums, bass, electric guitar, plectrums or musicians'. So states one Francis Albert Machine on the sleeve of this, his debut 7". And he was right to go it alone - the key to the charm and appeal of this record is in subtelty and understatement, delicately picked acoustic guitar meandering sweetly as Frankie's lyrics lay his scarred soul on the line.
Frankie Machine has been a musical wanderer for some time now, playing a variety of roles with bands such as White Town, MJ Hibbett and Airport Girl. This record, however, is his finest hour so far. '1973' is sparse, strung-out and resolutely, desperately melancholy. 'If you could taste me,' sings Frankie, 'I would taste of victory', but it sounds far from celebratory, a hollow victory from which Machine seems to have derived little satisfaction.
The stand-out of the four tracks is 'Don't be a Robot', on the strength of its magical chords, although 'I Didn't Understand it so I Gave it a Name' runs it exceedingly close, displaying flashes of lyrical wit to alleviate the prevailing mood of bitterness and tension. Perfectly placed harmonica augments Mr Machine's guitar on this track to wonderful melodic effect, and the final track, 'The Clue is in the Question', features a plaintive, mournful trumpet. It's all played by one man, a man who would seem to have decided that he doesn't need any outside help to best communicate his musical vision. Looks like he's right.
This is certainly the best AAS release to date and Frankie Machine has put his metal heart and damaged soul into it. He doesn't need a band to make an achingly fine record.
Home Cookin’ January 2000
Acoustic beauty in the vein of Mazzy Star and Nick Drake
Record & CD Mart Feb 2000
In concept Frankie Machine seems to resemble an old film from the 20's or 30's. The Acoustic Guitar he exhibits, can lead you to think that the sound is similar to that practiced by Robert Johnson, but what else you can pick up from this orange vinyl 7" is more than agreement with the first works of Aztec Camera or Martin Stephenson and the Daintees.
Mondo Bizarre Feb 2000 (translated from the Portugese before you ask...)
The debut EP from Frankie Machine should have, if there was any justice in the world, set the music press alight. Instead, it received a solitary playing from John Peel; seemingly due to the laid back nature of Francis Albert Machine’s masterplan, which obviously doesn’t include whoring his music. A striking debut it is though featuring four seemingly transcending tracks successfully moving closer to a magical source with every chord progression. All songs, according to the press release, are recorded ‘without the aid of drums, bass guitar, electric guitar, plectrums or musicians’ and if this is the result, I never want to hear electronic again. Despite opening with the most unconventional sound effects, the beautifully simple melodies are in no way detracted from. Not only has a musical genius poured his heart and soul into this music, but has provided proof from just one record that he is possibly one of Britain’s brightest song writing hopes.
Kiss & Tell Webzine Jan 2001
