One of my all-time favourite record labels, Sarah Records, was only ever in existence from 1987 to 1995, not even a full decade. I’ve been reading Michael White’s book “Popkiss” about it this week and quite enjoying it, which has resulted in me digging out the records and falling in love with the music all over again. One unexpected discovery: a lot of the music has been made available to buy and stream on Bandcamp, which is what prompted me to write this piece!
Based in Bristol (of all places), Sarah Records was formed by two friends who shared a love of music and the then-thriving fanzine community. Tired and unimpressed by a lot of what was happening in mainstream music at the time, punk was too angry and non-melodic, post-punk too gloom-and-doom, they decided to just up and start their own record label. Neither co-founder, Matt Haynes or Claire Wadd, had any experience running a label, much less an actual business, but they had the enthusiasm, the love of music, and a great ear for it too.
One of the things that has always impressed me about Sarah Records is that, despite how rough and unpolished the music often was, the songs themselves were impactful. Somehow, Matt and Claire could hear beyond the production value, and in some cases, beyond the actual musical ability of the artists they agreed to release. Some of the releases are sparkling and polished; others are clunky and filled with little artifacts that, on any other label, would have been declared a failed take. What binds them all together is that not a single release was made for any reason other than a love of the music. I truly believe that 99% of what came out on Sarah Records was released with heart, with the intent of sharing an idea and a feeling, not with any expectation of making money. In this sense, Sarah Records released music as art rather than product.
And before anyone jumps to conclusions, this does NOT mean they released nothing but weird artsy-fartsy noise! On the contrary. The music on Sarah Records is, by and large, far more melodic and charming than that of many of their contemporaries. True, there was some very punk-sounding stuff (“Let’s Build a Dyson Sphere” by The Golden Dawn) and some genuine WTF moments (“Humblebee” by The Field Mice), but even then, the music is honest and sincere.
The music has often been described as “twee” or “fey”, implying it’s too gentle, not masculine enough, lacking teeth. Many music magazines of the day dismissed Sarah Records releases without even listening. But how do you lump a gentle, gorgeous guitar-based song like “Inside Out” by Brighter in with a dancefloor synthesizer-infused crowd-pleaser like “The Sadness of Sex Part 1” by The Orchids, or a distortion-and-fuzz-filled scorcher like Secret Shine’s “Loveblind”? The prejudice from the music press was, frankly, Sarah Records’ biggest problem during their eight-year run.
So why am I writing about this tiny, obscure record label that went out of business nearly 30 years ago, having released around a hundred 7″ singles, a handful of 10″ EPs, and only a few LPs? Why do I still care? Why does anyone, enough to make a documentary and write a book?
Because the music still resonates. Unlike a lot of music from the same period, there was no desire to “fit in” and no need to be commercial. The music simply was what it was. And in my opinion, the vast majority of what Sarah Records released, by bands you’ve probably never heard of, like The Field Mice, Brighter, The Orchids, Blueboy, The Sweetest Ache, Gentle Despite, Secret Shine, The Sea Urchins, and Another Sunny Day, still stands up. It may have its faults (some of it is a bit twee, in retrospect), but the honesty and integrity of the artists still shines through and makes the music worth hearing, worth discovering, and worth having in your collection.
Previously, this was easier said than done. Sarah Records’ format of choice was the 7″ single, not exactly what people rush out to buy these days, and most singles were only pressed in quantities of a few hundred before being deleted. The original singles can sell for hundreds of dollars on the used market. The compilation LPs also tend to go for ridiculous sums. But a recent revival of interest in the label has had the unexpectedly wonderful side effect of making a lot of the music available digitally for the first time. All of the original 12″ LPs are now available to buy and stream, including the long-unavailable Sarah Records compilations and albums like The Field Mice’s “For Keeps,” Secret Shine’s “Untouched,” and The Orchids’ “Striving for the Lazy Perfection.” Many of these digital releases also include bonus tracks in the form of the original singles.
Not sure where to start? Here are a few suggestions:
Quiet, guitar-based music? Try Brighter. Shoegaze? Try Secret Shine. Rock with a hint of melancholy and some cool beats? Try The Orchids. Guitar music with an occasional Spanish influence? Try Blueboy. Something that defies easy categorisation? Just try The Field Mice, they changed styles so often it’s hard to generalise. “Emma’s House”, “Sensitive”, “When Morning Comes to Town” and “Coach Station Reunion” are among my personal favourites.
Don’t believe me? Stream some for yourself, you actually can now! Almost everything ever released on the label is available on Spotify. And if you want to go deeper, do yourself a favour and track down Michael White’s “Popkiss: The Life and Afterlife of Sarah Records” (2015), it’s a wonderful read. Jane Duffus’s “These Things Happen: The Sarah Records Story” (2023) is also well worth seeking out, as is the 2014 documentary “My Secret World: The Story of Sarah Records.” Or are you scared to get Happy? 🙂
The Sarah Records back-catalogue is also available digitally from Bandcamp, including this album, their final release, a retrospective compilation called “There and Back Again Lane.”
#MusicBoxTW
