Josef K
The Only Fun in Town

Josef K (formerly Tv Art) formed in 1979 in Edinburgh by Paul Haig (vocals, guitar) and Ronnie Torrance (drums), taking their name from the main character in "The Trial" by Franz Kafka. Subsequently, Malcolm Ross (guitar, keyboards) and David Weddell (bass) joined the lineup, replacing Gary McCormack who was housed in the Exploited. Notably influenced by the music of Television, Talking Heads, Pere Ubu, and Velvet Underground, and more so by the literature of Franz Kafka, Fëdor Dostoevsky, Albert Camus, Paul Haig is an introverted character, not aligned with the norms of the artists of that era. Standing one meter eighty in a lean, frail body, Haig does not ride the stereotypes that envision artists as indulging in drugs, post-stage sex in dressing rooms with groupies, and drunken stupors to the point of unconsciousness. The band builds their banner on decorum and composure, a trademark founded on the most extreme puritanism, concepts that become evident in the lyrics of their songs. "The Only Fun In Town" released in July 1981, when the band is already nearing the end of their run, is an absolute masterpiece of the post-punk strand, with characteristics that transcend the genre. An album that extends entirely over a skeletal, minimal yet extraordinarily melodic framework, driven throughout by Malcolm Ross's nervous and frantic guitar. No sooner is the needle placed on its grooves than "Fun 'N' Frenzy" and "Revelation" offer us canonical, superb post-punk, relentlessly driving forward. "Crazy To Exist" is an inspired Byrds school jingle jangle and the stunning "It's Kinda Funny," with its slow beat, is one of the album's most beautiful pages. Following are the pop-funk of "The Angle" and the flash of "Forever Drone" in perfect punk style in both sound and duration (just two minutes). "Heart Of Song" and "16 Years" lay bare all of JK's love and inspiration for the Talking Heads. The finale with "Citizens," a funky ballad woven over a powerful bass line, and the concluding "Sorry For Laughing," a tight guitar-bass dialogue with raw and dry tones, seals a work destined from its inception to become a beacon for future generations.

"The Only Fun In Town" has written one of the most beautiful and seminal pages of post-punk, a glow intrinsically linked to the figure of its leader, the aversion to market logic, the golden moment of Postcard Records, brief but intense like the most beautiful things, the ones that last forever.