#staubgold

Though billed as a Goldman compilation, Resolutionary is actually credited to three different groups: Vivien in solo form (“Launderette,” “Private Armies,” “P.A. Dub”), The Flying Lizards (“Her Story,” “The Window”), and Chantage (“Same Thing Twice,” “It’s Only Money,” “Tu M’Fais Rire”). Her vocals feature prominently in each and you don’t really notice a drastic shift in sound quality or jarring stylistic transitions across these eight songs, which makes for a focused snapshot of the artist. 

The Flying Lizards came first chronologically but 1981’s “Launderette” smartly starts the collection off as it’s probably her best-known song (not to mention one that’s been sampled by Madlib for “Filthy” on the essential Beat Konducta, Vol. 1-2). Anchored by George Oban’s funky bass line, Goldman’s soprano tells a simple tale of laundromat love gone awry (“Seems like I can’t get away from you / even in the launderette,” she sings on the chorus, adding dismissively, “…You always were untidy”). 

That marriage of high (her vocals) and low (bass) is a recurring motif in these songs. Working with a palette influenced by frequent producer Adrian Sherwood, members of Public Image Ltd. during their heady Metal Box peak (John Lydon produced “Launderette” after hearing the demo), and dub and reggae scene staples like Prince Far I, Goldman took on the politics of gender and romance head-on. “Private Armies” is a self-professed nuclear war anthem, for example, and “Her Story” is an attack on the patriarchy. Perhaps the most disturbing track, however, is “The Window,” a plaintive piano refrain setting the bedrock for Goldman’s chorus (“I don’t want to let him in / I wish he wasn’t twice my size”). 

The three Chantage tracks feature the most radical directions. Goldman had moved to Paris by 1982 and was absorbing the African diaspora’s musical culture alongside fellow singer Eve Blouin, with whom she shared a flat. “Same Thing Twice” features soukous guitar and steel drums, easily the breeziest, most lighthearted song present. The influence comes through strongest on “It’s Only Money,” a capitalist critique featuring Romani violin and a steel drum breakdown over a calypso rhythm that differs from the earlier half-speed dub zone-outs indicative of her time in London. “Tu M’Fais Rire” (“you make me laugh”), Resolutionary’s last song, functions nicely as an acapella outro. 

Listening to a period interview with Goldman appended as a separate track on Resolutionary is generous but inessential. Vivien’s points regarding resistance (“I always find it very difficult to get angry”), violence and gender (“Men would rather blow up the world than relinquish their power”) are covered quite clearly in her music. Her voice resonates both in projection and in vision. And though it may be true that Vivien Goldman has spent much of her time fighting for the world, in the music she made, it is every bit as clear that she fought just as hard for herself at the same time. It was never a binary.