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NME 18/12/93 by Ben Willmott
Christrnas records are shite, aren't they? Even the good ones can't help being cheesy, and the bad ones... Well, need we say more? But wait! London-based experimental dance collective ROC's Crimbo effort 'God Willing' is the one to kick the genre well into the new year. We all know Christmas isn't really about harmony and light; it's about drink-drive pile-ups, family brutality and evil indulgence - and underneath the single's superficial message of goodwill is a scary musical subtext based around a double bass loop, lo-fi drum machine and what sounds eerily like the sound of ripping flesh. 'God Willing' is a twisted tune that evokes soft focus images of falling snow and yuletide logs - unless you listen carefully. Thankfully, it manages not lo be a sick trip through other people's festive misery. "ldeally l'd like to make records that could be played on Radio 1 and Radio 2 at the same time" confesses core ROC member Fred Braunen (programming, occasional guitar, ideas). That way there's twice as much to subvert." he adds, redeeming himself. It rapidly becomes clear that ROC are no ordinary band. For a start. Fred's aristocratic good looks and well-spoken manner cast him more in the light of a Merchant/lvory actor than budding pop star. Then there's long-haired Karen Sheridan, the angelic vocalist on 'God Willing', a straight-talking American who's quick to keep Fred's vitriol in check. Thankfully, there's at least one thing they're agreed on. "For God's sake, don't make us sound like an indie guitar band!" Fred yells. "They're so bloody ordinary..." Although they toured Poland with the Swans as a guitar outfit yonks ago, Fred and co have increasingly used dance technology as their weekend hobby developed into something more serious. So, bearing in mind the derision they pour on grey indie-heads, do they feel more aligned with dub-techno warriors like The Orb? Apparently not. "lt's just Rick Wakeman all over again," Fred spits. He only clams up when asked about their interest in the supernatural. Fred is an avid reader of mystic black magician Aleister Crowley, and ROC itself stands, rather ironically, for Reincarnation Of Christ. Karen thinks it's all "bullshit" but ils dark atmosphere certainly infects ROC's work - "God Willing" is sickly sweet. but it'll give you nightmares too. Probably.

NME November-December 1993     Select 1994

Melody Maker 1/94 by Mark Roland
ROC are an intense bunch who make refreshingly unusual records. Their rnanipulation of lo-tech synthology have so far produced three singles on their own Little Star label: the hilarious, desperate dub of their debut, "Dead Step", the jazzy and jingly "God Willing" (which one cloth-eared radio personality compared to The Orb's "Little Fluffy Clouds") and now a bubbling dancefloor-filler called "White Stains". Fred Braunen, ROC's enigmatic and charismatic leader explains, "it's about biological action. Washing powder. We're going for the Persil advert." His avowed intention is to get Gloria Hunniford playing ROC on Radio Two. "I played my dad some Velvet Underground and he said it had all been done before. Easy-listenlng tunes with a nasty story, Iike 'Mac The Knife'. The nexl record might be a Dean Martin type thing." Fred's as interested in discussing "the religious zeal of the assassin" and getting his marriage blessed in a satanist church in San Francisco as he is pop music. Clearly there's more to ROC than a few good tunes.

Time Out 11/5/94 by Laura Lee Davies
ROC Garage, Tuesday
As dance, hip hop and even rap grow forever more sophisticated, enter ROC, a dodgily titled five-piece based here in the Big Smoke, who use programmed beats and countless groovy samples with such refreshingly naive gusto, you'd swear they thought computers meant Daleks until last week. An eclectic fusion ol jazzy snappiness, lushly soulful pop and chattering vocals, ROC look like the kind of cutely idiosyncratic post-New Age (is that possible?) hipsters who might have a fairly good go at playing Canute to 'the new wave of new wave'. Setting that mirror ball in the middle of the dancefloor spinning with their airy third single, 'White Stains', ROC have already had the critics slavering over their eccentric works 'Dead Step' and 'God Willing'. Willfully obscure about the meaning of their songs and any hints as to where they're coming from, ROC as a live experienie are as offbeat as you'd expect. They may not be the first bunch of people to find something quirky in making weird pop musrc, but their bubbling rhythms and Karen Sheridan's dreamy vocals give walking on the wild side a renewed appeal.

Dazed & Confused 1994 by Jefferson Hack
R.O.C make you feel like covering your ears and turning the volume up at the same time.
You're not supposed to understand R.O.C. They want to confuse you. They've released four very different but brilliant singles and have managed to avoid becoming pigeonholed, championed or chartbound with any of them. Their debut single "God Willing" released at Christmas last year is fantastic, pseudo-religious spokenword over ambient pop, it better's The Orb's "Little Fluffy Clouds" and if it was the only record R.O.C ever made it would still put them in the top 50 best British bands. R.O.C have since released the rocked out and charming, "Girl With The Crooked Eye"; "Exine", a sexy synth-pop Parklife meets Duran Duran; and most recently the deliciously weird and curiously sublime "White Stains".

Newcomer (France) 1995 Issue 10
Deconcertants et perseverants, ROC travaillent depuis plus de dix ans a destabliser leur auditoire. Dire qui'ls sont eclectiques serait insultant: chacun de leurs morceaux semble etre l'oeuvre d'un groupe different. Entre un essai jazzy, une tentotive easy-listening et une experience dance, il leur arrive de sortir un bijou de la trempe de "The Girl With A Crooked Eye", histoire de brouiller les pistes un peu plus.

Fred: ROC a demarre en 1981 mais nous ne faisons des disques que depuis environ deux ans. Nous sommes alles en Pologne en 1987. Je crois que nous etions le deuxieme groupe anglais a y rnettre les pieds.Ce fut tres marrant. Desastreux mais tres marrant.. Nous avons joue dans un gros festival. A cette epoque, la-bas, les gens etaient tous skinheads et fringues a la Sham 69. lls nous preaient pour un group de guitares. Ils one ete tres surpris, ce qui nous a bien plu. Il y avait la-bas des groupes belges, allemands, tchecoslovaques... Nous etions censes y faire quatre ou cinq dates, mais quand nouse sommes arrives a Varsovie, notre batteur a fait une depression nerveuse. On a pris l'avion et on est rentre chez nous le lendemain. Nous avons quand meme ete obliges de donner un concert et, bien que sour le coup cela, ait ete l'enfer je crois que c'est l'un des meilleurs gis que nous ayons jamais faits!

A quoi ressemblait votre son d l'epoque?
Il etait different. Mais sur les singles qui sont sortis cette annee, il ya des morceaux que nous avons enregistres en 1987 ou 1989. lls proviennent de cassettes. Nous avons des tonnes de morceaux qui datent il y a longtemps. Tout ce qu'on trouve de propre a deranger les gens, on le sort!

Comment vous etres-vous rencontres? Votre chanteuse est Americaine n'esf -ce-pas?
Elle est arrivee en Angleterre en 1986. Je connaissais Patrick et elle a son propre groupe. Elle est venue en Pologne avec nous, mais pas en tant que membre de ROC. Elle nous encourageait et tournait des films. On a toujours fait des trucs avait elle. Et il ya trios ans, je liu a demande a se joindre a nous parce que nous avions perdu notre chanteur. Apres etre rentres de Pologne, notre batteur etait devenu fou et notre chanteur avait perdu son pere, ce qui fait qu'il etait retourne aupres de siens, mais Patrick et moi, nous sommes la depuis le debut. Et puis Pete est arrive. Nous avions aussi travaille avec lui auparavant. Et puis il y a Russell, il etait I'agent de Nirvana pour I'Europe. ll fait partie de notre communaute. ll y a d'autres personnes aussi qui sont impliques. C'est une famiIle!

Quel etait votre but au depart et avez-vous atteint certains do vos objectifs?
Nous avons demarre il y a tres longtemps parce qu'a l'ecole tout le monde ecoutait de la pop et formait des groupes. Ils jouaient tous des reprises de morceaux punk. Je trouvais cela vraiment stupide, ces gens essayant de sonner comme tous les autres. Et c'est toujours la meme chose aujourd'hui a Londres, lls veulent tous ressembler a Suede ou a Elastica. Tous ces groupes qui jouent a Camden sont des groupes de guitores, ils.ne font ni plus ni moins ce que faisait Elvis il y a quaramte ans. Et person ne n'essaie de faire evoluer cela. Quand nous avons demarre, nous avons decide de faire quelque chose de different, et nous n'avons pas devie de la route que nous sommes tracee: destabiliser les gens. C'est-ce que nous conituons de faire. Et je n'aimerais vraiment pas que nous soyons percus comme faisant partie de la scene de Londres ou de Camden. C'est une bonnechose que ne nous soyons pas. Elastica a donne une interview a la radio, et l'animateur de l'emission a passe " The Girl With A Crooked Eye". lls se sont exclames "Wah! C'est genial, c'est vraiment bien!". Tant mieux. Cependant, nous sommes tres differents de tous ces groupes. Mais ils semblent commencer a comprendre ce que nous essayons de faire. Nous n'avons pas de grosse maison de disque ou de fric derriere nous, et c'est tres dur de continuer ce quie nous faisons. Mais nous essayons. S'il faut retenir une cnose, c'est que nous voulons juste deranger les gens et faire de la bonne musique.

Vos morceaux ne se ressemblent vraiment pas les uns les autres.
Nous voulons que chaque disque soit different, parce que sinon vous faites trois singles identiques, puis vous sortez une album sur lequel vous repetez encore ces troisis morceaux. Et c'est affligeant de voir que c'est ce qul plait aux journalistes du NME et aux gens de Radio One. ll n'y a aucun defi la dedans. Nous voulons faire quelque chose de different et nous brouillons deliberament les pistes. Les gens vont dire "Oh! ROC, j'aime bien leur dernier disque". Et au prochain : "Mon dieu, mais qu'est-ce que ca veut dire? C'est affreuxl" Cela prend du temps mais je crois que les gens finiront par comprendre ce que nous essayons de faire. Le morceau prefere de Pete, c'est une chanson a la Psychic TV, tres noisy, bourree de trucs style techno allemande. Et puis nous avons de belles pop-songs pour embrouiller les gens et les faire reflechir. Ils se peut qu'ils n'aiment pas tout - moi-meme je n'aime pas tout - mois ce sont des humeurs et des morceaux differents.

Quel style de musique ecoutes-tu?
A ce moment Burt Bacharach, Kenny Rogers, des trucs easy-listening. Ce que nous avons fait recemment est moitie easy-listening, moitie Eurovision. Mais il y a toujours un element perturbateur, des lyrics derangeants. Les gens vont aimer un morceau; le trouver beau, et puis soudain ils vont choper quelques mots et se dire: "Eh la! Attends! Y'a quelque chose qui va pas!" Nous aimons seduire les gens par notre musique avont qu'ils ne realisent les horreurs que nous proferons!

"The Girl With A Crooked Eye" est un morceau curieux: la musique est tres legere, tandis que Karen raconte une histoire terrifiante.
La plupart de nos morceaux racontent de vraies histoires et sortent de notre vie de tous les jours. "The Girl With A Crooked Eye" est l'histoire d'une fille avec qui je sortais que j'ai rencontre aux Etats-Unis. Elle etait mariee et vivait a Miami. Son mari la battait sans cesse. Je l'ai connue au mariage de son frere a Washington. Et puis elle est revenue s'installer ici et a vecu avec moi pendant deux ans. Tout est base sur ce qu'elle a traverse. Et la plupart de nos chansons rocontent des choses qui sont vraiment arrives.

Ce qui est interessant, c'est que la musique reste tres insouciante.
C'est ce que j'ais toujours voulu faire. Jouer une musique accrocheuse puis surprendre les gens par les paroles. Je n'ai pas envie de leur donner du "1-2-3-4 guitares plein gaz!"

C'est toi qui ecris les lyrics. Comment vous organisez vous pour composer?
La plupart du temps, j'ecris les lyrics et le majeure partiene des melodies. Mais Karen commence a ecrire un peu plus de textes, et c'est ce que je voulais. Je n'ai pas envie de tout faire. Je veux une plus grande collaboration, parce qui'il me fait du temps. J'ai besoin de voir d'autres endroits et qu'il m'arrive d'autres choses pour me creer une matiere sur lequelle je pourrai ecrire. Ce que nous voulons, c'est amener Karen non seulement a ecrire davantage de morceaux aussi a parler des choses qui lui arrive. Il y a ce mec qu'elle connait depuis tres longtemps et qui vit aux Etats Unis. Elle l'a connu a l'ecole quand ils etaient gosses a Denver et il est mainteant en prison pour une tentative d'homicide dont il n'est pas I'auteur. Nous l'avons poussee a ecrire la-dessus. Nous voulons devenir de plus en plus jazzy et easy-listening tout en conservant nos textes derangeants, faire des morceaux mignons puis d'autres compIetement Infects! J'aimerais faire un album entier de bruit! Il semble y avoir tres peu de gens a l'heure actuelle en Angleterre qui soient decides a essayer de faire bouger les choses. Tous ces groupes comme Oasis font une musique vieillotte . ll n'y a rien de neuf. Nous approchons de la fin du vingtieme siecle et les gens continuent de jouer de la guitare. Ce genre de musique aurait du disparaitre avec Kurt Cobain. C'est un truc horrible a dire parce que j'aimais Nirvana, mals sa mort aurait du metre un terme a ce genre de musique Je ne crois pas que de tels groupes puissent encore etre pris au serieux a moins de pousser les choses a l'extreme et de foire quelque chose comme ce que Cobain a fait: y croire tellement qu'on finit par se tuer. Aucun groupe rnalntenant ne pourra atteindre cela. lls sont pieges et doivent continuer la route sur laquelie ils se sont engages. C'etait la meme chose avec les Sex Pistols: ce fut si intense qu'ils ont explose et que l'un d'eux est mort. Mais cette rnusique est vieille et n'a rien d'un defi. Elle peut vous suffire si vous aimez le rock'n roll, rnais le rock est mort, selon moi.

Pourtant certains groupes font des choses novatrices. Je pense a Future Sound Of London et a leurs "concerts virtuels"...
Certainement, mais Brian Eno faisait ce genre de musique il y a vingt ans et les gens ne decouvrent qu'aujourdh'ui ce qu'il faisait. Je trouve Future Sound Of London ennuyeux. lls ne me touchent paws. Ce n'est pas quelque chose que vous pouvez faire ecouter a vos parents. Ce que nous aimerons vraiment faire, c'est jouer partout. Pas seulement sur Radio One, pour les gens de l6 a 20 ans. Nous aimerions aussi jouer pour les gens plus vieux. Les maisons de disque copient le modele Americain. Elles veulent de la musique pour teenagers. Mais il y a un autre public. Et les teenagers vieillissent. A vingt ans, ils trouvent un boulot et cessent d'ecouter de la musique. La musique la plus important aux Etats Unis, c'est la country, parce que tout le monde l'ecoute, les grandparents aux petits enfants. Pourtant les labels continuent de chercher le nouveau petit groupe de guitares. lls le signent, sortent deux singles et un album et le balancent a la trape apres trois ans. ll n'est plus possible de grandir avec un groupe. C'est attristant. L'argent facile, rapidement. lls ne sont pas prepares a penser sur le long terme, ils sont trop cupides.

Tu aimerais que ton groupe soit ecoute par toute la famil|e et qu'il dure?
En fait, pas vraiment. Ce que nous essayons de faire, c'est de participer a I'Eurovision. Patrick a des contacts et y travaille en ce moment. On a telephone a un mec il y a plusieurs rnois et, cet ete, il est venu nous voir et nous a dit qu'il aimait vraiment ce qu'on faisait. On lui a dit qu'on voulait faire I'Eurovision et on attend sa reponse. On pourrait etre plus gros qu'ABBA! Cela serait vraiment drole. J'aimerais faire quelque chose comme ca. Faire I'Eurovision et y semer la panique. Glisser des paroles tordues et a la fin dire vraiment de quoi parle le morceau! "Cela parle d'un serial-killer d'enfants"! lmaginez leurs tetes : "Mon Dieu, non! Mais comment a-t-on pu leur permettre de jouer ici?" Il faut tout casser et faire bouger les choses. La clique de Camden et la facon dont le music business y fonctionne ll faut faire imploser I'Eurovision, faire aue rien ne soir plus jamais pareil. Je voudrais detruire cette scene de Londres. Je les deteste tous. Tout n'y est que fric. Pareil a Camden, tout le monde s'y connait et y est corrompu Et on ne donne pas l'opportunite a ceux qui voudraient changer les choses. Le seul moyen d'y parvenir c'est d'arriver a se glisser a l'interieur, de faire un gros truc qui marche puis de tout casser. L'Eurovision est un truc nul et chiant au possible. ll faudroit y injecter de nouvelles choses et la transformer, mais personne ne le fait. lls ont besoin de gens comme nous pour donner un coup de pied dans lc fourmilliere. Ce serait tellement marrant!

Little Star est votre propre label...
ll ya deux ans, nous avions des demos de la plupart des morceaux que nous avons sortis jusqu'ici. Nous les avons envoyees a pratiquement tous les gros labels. lls n ont pas donne de nouvelles. Toujours parce que nous n'avons pas de manager, personne qui s'occupe de la presse, et que nous ne voulons pos aller trainer dans les pubs et les clubs pour nous montrer et nous creer des relations. Alors ils ne sont pas interesses. Celo serait different si on frayoit avec Blur et qu'on leur filait une cossette. L'hiver dernier, nous sommes alles a la BBC et nous leur avons donne une cassette. Et le mec en a fait son disque de la semaine, juste avant Noel. Et souaoin notre telephone n'a pas arrete de sonner. Tous ces gens a qui nous avions donne la meme cassette se sont reveilles et nous ont dit "Je viens d'entendre votre disque sur Radio One, J'aimerais bein dlscuter avec vous", On leur a repondu "Allez vous faire voir. Vous aviez ce morceau et vous n'aviez pas eu l'intelligence de voir que cela pouvait faire changer quelque chose, que cela pouvait marcher. Allez au Diable, on ne veut pas vous rencontrer". Nous avons ete exigeants. Nous avons sorti nous-memes ces singles mais maintenant nous n'avons plus de fric. ll nous en reste bien sur un peu mais pas assez pour faire un album. L'ideal serait de faire un truc qui rnarche, de decrocher un contrat ovec un label, de prendre le fric, faire I'album et de les baiser! Par ici le fric, voici le disque et au revoir! Et recommencer a faire nos propres trucs avec cet argent. lls ont tellement la trouille pour leur fric. lls se demandent si ca va marcher. Ce qui vend, c'est les groupes de guitares., Personne ne veut prendre le risque de faire autre chose. C'est tres dur pour un groupe comme le notre, qui a tres peu de fric et veut tout faire tout seul. Nous n'avons ni manager, ni agent pour la presse, ni radio-plugger. Nous ne nous faisons connaitre que par le bouche-a-oreille. On recoit des lettres des Etats-Unis, d'Allemagne, de Pologne, plein de France, de Belgique. Les gens ont entendu parler de nous et se demandent ce que nous devenons. C est une bonne chose parce que nous ne faisons pas partie du systeme. Les choses arrivent lentement. Nous allons sans aucun doute etre obliges de faire des compromis, mais ils seront peu nombreux.

Ce serait pourtant utile d'avoir, quelqu'un qui s'occupe de la presse...
C'est tres contrariant pour nous. Nous recevons des lettres de gens qui sont tombes sur nos morceaux par hasard, qui nous disent qu'ils aiment parce que c'est neuf et different mais qu'ils n'entendent jamais parler de nous. Quand les radios ont passe le single ici, leur telephone n'a cesse de sonner, mais les gens ne savaient pas ou nous contacter. Pourtant nous avons John Best, le press-manager de Suede. Un mec que nous connaissons nous a dit de nous addresser a lui. Il a dit qu'il ne nous prendrait pas cher porce qu'il aimait bien ce qu'on faisait. Nous avons joue au festival de Phoenix. Nous avons donne des concerts tres differenents de ceux que nous donnions jusqu'alors. Douze personnes sur scene, tout habillees de blanc. On ressemblait a ABBAI! On a joue nos morceaux de facon tres funky, tres differemment de ce a quoi les gens s'attendaient. Et un mec du Melody Maker a ecrit "ROC est le meilleur groupe pop du monde. Pourquio pas ne font-ils pas plus de trucs?" L'embetant, c'est que quand il n'y a pas de maison de disques derriere pour les pousser au cul, les journalistes ne viennent pas a vous. Mais ce qui est bien, c est qu'au contraire d'Elastica qui a du payer pour avoir de la presse, nous en avons eue rien que par nos disques. C'est bien parce que cela veut dire que l'on peut rester a I'ecart, ne pas faire partie de ce truc. Nous restons un mystere: "Mois qui sont-ils?"

Si vous aviez les moyens de faire un album maintenant, comprendrait-il beaucoup d morceaux? Je suppose que vous en avez un stock en reserve...
Ce serait un double album. Une partie tres belle, l'autre que du bruit. 'Metal machine music" de Lou Reed! J crois qu'il nous faut sortir un autre single sur Litltle Star avec l'aide financiere de quelqu'un, puis faire un album avec un gros label, Je dois rencontrer le manager de Brian Ferry. ll veut nous manager Mais je ne fais pas confiance a ces gens. "On va vous decrocher un gros contrat avec Virgin ou Geffen". "Mais oui, mais oui". Des conneries. L'important, c'est de toujours garder le controle. Sinon, cela devient comme le punk : vous vous vendez. ll faut aller juste assez loin pour savoir exactement pourquoi vous faites ce que vous faites sans que les choses vous echappent. lls nous disent tous '"Vous devriez donner de concerts a Londres". On repond "Non!". Chaque fois que quelqu'un du music business nous dit "Vous devriez foir cela", nous repondons "Non" et nous faisons autre chose deliberement. "Mais beaucoup de gens de maisons de disques voudraient vous voir jouer live". "Fichez-nous la paix. Faites les patienter".

Mais cela fait tres longtemps que vous attendez attendez vous-memes...
Nous sommes tres patients. Il se pourrait que cela soit suicidaire, qui sait? Mais nous croyons a ce que nous faisons. Je me rappelle avoir entendu une interview de Peter Grant, le manager et cinqieme membre de Led Zep. Une montagne. ll avait ete catcheur professionnel. On lui demandait pourquoi il avait decide de les manager - lui qui n'avait jamais fait cela de sa vie auparavant - quand personne ne misait sur eux et il a repondu: "La Foi".

Time Out 15/2/95 by Peter Paphides
'lt's not a band,' interrupts the voice on the other end of the line. Naturally, I apologise for my mistake. What exactly are ROC then? 'Well, you can call ROC a group if you must. But it's not that simple.' By now, ROC's spokesperson (yes, they have a full-time spokesperson) is getting more impassioned in its attempt to explain the nature of ROC. lt has already asked me to keep its gender and name secret. ROC, you see, 'are more like a brand name. The band is the logo you see on the sleeves.' You'd be hard pushed to find ROC records that bear any tangible relation to each other. 'White Stains' pierces the air with celestiaI pop panache that owes just as much to Saint Etienne as it does to Colourbox. However, it can't prepare you for the single that came after it: 'Girl With A Crooked Eye' is ROC's most disturbingly arresting moment, chronicling the collapse of a relationship into misery and violence. 'That there's nothing common to all these songs,' announces the voice, 'is entirely intentional. ROC are influenced by everything - not just music. What ROC do is more like when you tune into the radio on the FM dial. And you start at the west with Radio 2, and you keep turning the dial through all these different sounds from different cultures, and then on the other end when there are no more stations left, there's Melody FM. You've come full circle.' I hope that's clarified a few things.
The sound: lf any one tendency has emerged in ROC's singles, it has been a propensity for cheap '8os synths, breathy fernale vocals and David Lynchian narratives.
The sex symbol: In keeping with the post-modern theme, their logo.
Obligatory proclamation of greatness: 'ROC shall become well-known! We shall have our castle in Spain... Oops, I said "we"... Damn!'
Column inches to date: 93.
Sleaze: Postmodern types tend to avoid sleaze.
Discography: 'The Little Girl With The Crooked Eye', 'XIne', 'White Stains' (Little Star). Sample lyric: 'l hope you both get AlDS!' (X-lne)

Frank fanzine 11/95 by Harry Pye
A DAY IN THE LIFE OF ROC
Almost pop and slightly techno. They can also be dubby, druggy or even a bit funky when they want to be. Unusual to say the least, ROC seem very special and worthy of everybody's attention. Often dreamy and yet slightly unsettling their music sets up home in your brain, even when the record is safely back in its sleeve. Their new LP soon to be released on SETANTA records, proves that as a band they seem to have 12 ideas to everyone eIse's one. Read on as a member of R.O.C takes us through a day in their Iife.

"Woke up from vivid good and bad dreams - another day, nothing solved. It'll be many months, even years before I look back in peace at this period. Fred rang from Elemental at 10.00, he said come at 3.00. Justin turned up for lunch (I had forgotten) - it was a joy and a relief. Justin, a good friend from school now trying to find work as a solicitor is one person who knows Fred well. I complained to Justin of Fred's aggressive criticism of me over recent days, this in spite of the fact I'm putting him up. Justin sympathetically polnted out Fred's only taking out his own personal upset on me because he can, because I'm there. Justin kindly dropped me at Elemental which is affiliated to One Little Indian. Fred, Karen and I met Nlck (Evans), a slightly dribbly but tearfully enthusiastic small label guy who told us we could outsell Tricky with the album. The meeting was dominated by Derek Birkett, head of One Little Indian and manager of Bjork. He explained the tough budgeting plans which are the basis of his success. Far from bullshitting us, Derek said our profit share with Setanta was a good thing. Personally I don't know what he was expecting, but the lack of a signing at the end seemed to disappoint Nick: he's a lovely guy. We went to the pub, Derek (fat, cropped,stubble, black polo t-shirt, black polo joggers, big trainers) told us a bit about Bjork. We all bond in our various ways, Derek and I have a mutual partiality to Vaughan WiIIiams, Fred qets off on Derek's satanic wedding and close connection with Psychic TV. Nick, I think, accepts from me that Black FIag were the greatest live rock group ever and blitzed anything since. Nick, Karen and I head off for a Boss Hog gig at The Garage. In the cab Nick piles on the enthusiasm for the album and tells us about his closeness to Steve Lamacq (he never goes into details about a track - he just says: "you've got me"; he has a great conscience about his position).

Nick says he realises that everyone in the music business, in spite of their bravado, mateyness, outward confidence in their latest act etc, are f***ing terrified" - I have always known this, but having made an album which I'm so proud of has given me a new confidence. I'm no longer scared of them, they're scared of us. What if we exploded and they didn't have a part of us? In the pub before the Garage, Nick puts his foot in it. John Mulvey, editorial operator at NME says: "what are you doing with ROC?" Nick says we came for a meeting. Neil Pengelly, seated with Mulvey, says, "Oh I just got their album today from Setanta." Nick comes to us worried that rumour will spread of our disloyalty to Setanta. But we're just hearing offers, we always wiIl. The main thing is Mulvey recognised us. I don't want NME's approval but I believe it's necessary to turn the wheels. Nick, Karen, I and Lisa who runs Sub Pop UK, form a team in the pub quiz - we're doing weII but have to be helped by Johnny Cigarettes, also of the NME. We avoid any discussion with him of who we are. He's like people I knew at school - quite composed, a little bruised, very insecure (I think). Naturally he knows a lot of the answers. Karen and I watch three Boss Hog songs. U.S. alternative rock heads ever downhiII, discovering new depths of undynamic, in-joke laden, WEAK crud. I think there should be a ban for the moment, and also a ban on 60's-inspired British poncey guitar groups. Perhaps musical instrument production should stop. Let's see how the current crop of Britpop handle thin air, likewise the sad American grunge-punkers who are getting their little Eurotours now that alI the remotely decent ones are defunct. Alternative rock breaks all records in slow death. Karen and I head back on the tube - we weigh up the pros and cons of different labels and deals. I conclude I know nothing about this or any other business and I pray we get through the next few months, emerging with a good deal which lets us make the next album in relative comfort.

Karen gets off at Victoria and heads for Kings Road. AIl I know from today is there's a growing number of people realising we matter. Perhaps we will have to be suppressed, but honestly I'm not so cynical. It's just that if the album does enter the public consciousness and creeps across the world's coffee tables, where will that leave Blur etc? We can't co-exist, we require different kinds of perception of life, and quite different IeveIs of profundity in response from listeners. This is dangerous talk, but I truly think many current acts could be made instantly redundant and shallow if something remotely deep and wide got through. Futhermore, ROC made the album under very stressful conditions and we have not even began to apply rigour in exploring our most intense potential. At least today took my mind off things. I get in around midnight - Fred's asleep, no danger of more fighting, thankfully. But back to reality and worries which won't disappear for a while yet."

i-D 1/96 by David Hemingway
To the sound of cheapo synths and haywire radio interference, ROC's acclaimed single of last year, "GirI With The Crooked Eye", recounted a relationship's decline from Miami Vice-like happy days to crack habits. The narrator packs her bags, leaves an answer machine message ("Fuck you and the horse you rode in on") - and is caught in a frenzied attack with a six-inch kitchen knife. The accompanying sampled screams - so obviously those of children in a playground - merely accentuated the madness, the sense of panicked delirium. ROC's other singles ("Dead Step", "God Willing", "X-ine", "White Stains") have shared little resemblance. This is wholly intentional. ROC say that the worst thing you can do is pigeonhole yourself. Even the group itself isn't fixed or immutable, fluctuating around its three core members. But there's no stated master plan, no stupid manifesto. "If you're fortunate enough to be written about" suggests Denver-born Karen Sheridan, "something will present itself out of that mess. It might not be by design and..." Fred Browning completes the sentence: "That's when you've got to change".

Their debut album, out this month, is sprawling and deliberately disparate, shifting from shit-faced bile to celestial beauty. Sounds and sentiments that wouldn't normally go together are juxtaposed. The most conventionally 'pretty' song on the record, "Clouds", describes a car crash victim: "So bad both her cheekbones smashed". The record is a wonderful, tangled mess from which you extract what you want: one moment it's as divine as St Etienne B-sides, another it's gnarled and ugly. The London-based group have previously described ROC as a brand name: an attempt to diffuse away from personalities, to circumvent rock's usual fixations. "It's a way of suggesting that you don't have to adhere to all your preconceptions: I only like one kind of music, one kind of living. What's good about what we've done," offers Patrick Nicholson, "is that we haven't restricted it to anything."

Attitude 12/95 by Ian Tucker
Musical movements get absorbed and digested by the mainstream with lightning speed. Bored with Jeremy Paxman presenting an easy listening item on Newsnight you flick over and there's some newspaper ad with a jungle soundtrack or a bit of thrash metal being used to flog you pot noodles. For admen and slack TV researchers, tapping into the latest yoof sounds is a nice 'n' easy entree to a niche market of elusive, fickle trendoids (or so they like to think).

As a band, one way to sidestep this process is to send out conflicting signals, to slip and slide so that no-one knows what you stand for. Be mysterious, sinister, ambiguous. Of late, acts like Tricky and Whale have successfully worked this angle and although they would deny it {if you could extract any thing as conclusive as a denial from them) ROC are also ploughing this same furrow. Their debut LP lurches between diverse styles: lo-fi, electronica, grungey pop. spooky tales of brain injuries, mashed-up techno, fuzzy triphop, a dash of the pastoral even, it's all here. Their triumph is how they somehow bind the stuff together. ROC are two faintly posh geezers (Fred and Patrick) and an American lady from Denver (Karen the vocalist); anything more is speculation. Their answers slip between the flippant and the earnest so deftly that you could do with a lie-detector to help interpret them. Simple enquiries will not get you anywhere. Example: How long have you been together? "There have been other ROCs in the past and it is fair to say that we anticipate there being other ROCs in the future," offers Patrick. "There will be other people going out on tour as us, trying to cash in". Another example: What does ROC stand for? "It stands for Reincarnation of Christ. We are jumping on the Christian bandwagon."

So Patrick, how would you describe your music? "ln reviews people always describe us as challenging or innovative. Pop music has been completely overwhelmed by commerce and the result is that something like us is perceived as difficult." Perish the thought. So no recent music has stretched your ears? "Some people in dance music have in the past couple of years done something vaguely challenging. "Well what you do isn't exactly easy listening. "Everything is easy listening. you put it on and you listen to it. What could be easier? "

On an earlier single, X-ine, which you put out on your own label, the closing line was 'l hope you both get AlDs.' ls that something you regret doing? "ln that respect we were trailblazers for Oasis," jokes Patrick. You don't think it is in questionable taste? "People say stuff like that in the heat of the moment," argues Karen. "'l wish you were dead,' you say and think stuff like that if you've been really hurt or something." A straight answer at last.

Raygun 10/96 by Ken Micallef
In a time of cookie-cutter Britpop and post-Nirvana noiseniks, the idea of music that cuts an experimental path while still supplying melodic pop sustenance seems a remote, truly fantastic idea. Inspiration is rare, talent more so. London's ROC, a multi-instrumentalist trio of Karen Sheridan, Fred Browning, and Patrick Nicholson, have made such a record in 1996, the year the Sex Pistols returned, major power outages became commonplace in the western US, and the psycho on my Manhattan block seems to know my innermost thoughts. Synchronicity? Nah. just the world spinning down and a few sparks flying.

"lt's absolutely delightful if someone positively hates our album," says Patrick Nicholson, sipping black coffee in London's Landmark hotel. "Some love it, some hate it. There's nothing weird about it. We haven't even approached weirdness. What is weird? Weird means unusual. These days something very emotional and very powerful would be weird. lf someone put great craft and great passion into a recording, I don't think any record cornpany could cope with it. But we all do like Ace of Base a lot." ROC sound nothing like Ace of Base. More like the lost golden thread berween German folk song and Johnny Rotten, between Burt Bacharach and the Velvet Underground, between a porno film score and early systems music. Texture is everything, be it Stonesish pop anthems like "Dear Nicky," the gossamer ruminations of "Real Time," or the death knell of "Ascension." This shower of resilient, startling sound defies any easy attempt to explain or categorize it. ROC (not "Reincarnation of Christ") is a collective of talent who choose their rnuse as the day hits them. One day it's the lost-virginity tale of "13 Summers", next it's the slobbering, bile-fueled rant ol "Excised." Dark atmospheres, whispered secrets, gorgeous sunsets.

"lf you cover as many things as you can," explains Nicholson, "without trying to do it - you just do it - the whole thing nicely, amorphously reduces into pop music. Beat music. Popular music post-1955." Doesn't that smack of self-indulgence? "What is anything if not self-indulgent?" retorts Nicholson. "That's the British version of indulgent, self-indulgent. I think that if anything is good, it's self-indulgent. Doing exactly what you want to do is what other people like. Why do films unexpectedly get successful when the subject matter, like Babe, is so silly?"

Reticent to discuss ROC's origins, Nicholson simply explains that Sheridan came trom Colorado. met himself and Browning, and the trio began writing songs in Nicholson's home studio. ROC are united by their contempt for the "anal retentive" British music scene, perhaps explaining their disregard for standard pop songcraft rules. They simply get together and the day's grist becomes a song. "Something will happen any day which will provoke you, make you think about something" says Nicholson. "lf we see something funny or an amusing sight on the road, that will work its way in. That's as strong an influence as anything musical".

Lauded in the British press from the funny pages of NME to the serious tomes ol The Wire, ROC have built a wall of mystery around themselves, partly due to their hell-with-the-game attitude (only Nicholson showed for ROC's interview). They seern to despise lhe current load of fresh-scrubbed popsters as much as they do the idea of playing live. "The pop music life is crap most ot the time," says Nicholson, coftee dribbling down his shirt. "Unless the production values are high enough or the band is wild enough, it's usually awful. And these indie pop bands playing their steady music - no opportunity to go berserk in that stuff, it's all one level, no dynamics, song after song. The idea of going to see Pulp is the most ghastly experience in the world. Not because the band is bad, it's lhe whole format, the whole business. Going to see bands live is one of the great rip-offs of the 20th Century."

Nicholson picks up a cookie from the desert tray and eleborates on the formulaic state of modern pop. "My ex-girlfriend said that whenever she went to any music business situation it was like being at school. I think the British groups that are popular now are like the head boys and the head girls. They're very wholesome and you can aspire to being them. Blur, Oasis, Elastica, Sleeper, they are all hotly competing for most important person slatus. In order to be most important person there has to be rules." So going against the tide and attempting to integrate many influences instead of a thin pop style, it musl require some courage? "lt's not courage, lt's just that our lives have been empty. When you're at the bottom, you can't get any worse. You're not trying to maintain any position. We're not the head boys and head girls."

Finally, with their odd Christ allusions, like lhe cover art that depicts a mirror with the words "Redeemed with the precious blood of Christ" and Karen's purring lines: "Christ above me, Christ below me, Christ before me, Christ with all," the degree of enigmatic mystery deepens. What does ROC mean? "Anything at all," says Nicholson. "l like to reduce it down to absolutely nothing. So there can be a psychic space that you might like to call ROC, where your mind can go wherever it likes. There will be no stimulus, not even music to actually provoke you. lt's all about investing your own psychic energy in a piece of art."

Music Week 28/10/95 by Leo Finlay
Setanta was founded five years ago by Dubliner Keith Cullen to bring the best new Irish music to the world. It scored notable successes with A House and The Frank And Walters, but it was Scotsman Edwyn Collins who put the label on the map this year. Now the indie is casting its net wider, signing two American acts and, for the first time, an English group. That band is London three-piece ROC (Reincarnation Of Christ) and their album "ROC" is one of the finest and most diverse debuts you'll hear this year. The opening track "Desert Wind" is a near ambient mix of technology and gentle guitars, but the calm is swiftly shattered by the sonic assault of Excised, which recalls Deus at their fiercest. This theme of contrasts is maintained throughout the album, with a sprinkling of catchy pop songs making the mix all the sweeter. Denver-born frontwoman Karen Sheridan is pleased with the effect. "It would just be too boring to have an album where everything sounds the same," she says. "That's why we signed to Setanta - they told us to do whatever we wanted. And there was never an A&R man telling us what direction to go in." But what made Setanta decide to make ROC its first English signing? They are, after all, far removed from the more mainstream crooning of Edwyn Collins and the inspired Partridge Family doodles of The Frank And Walters. Cullen says, "I can't take all the credit for signing them - they are much more to my partner Feargal Hickey's taste than mine, although I think they're brilliant. The main reason we took them on board was because they didn't sound like anyfhing else on our roster." And they certainly do sound different, not only to Setanta's roster, but to just about every'thing else. There's also a lyrical frankness that you'll rarely come across in such an accessible act. The closing line to one of their four pre-Setanta singles, "X-ine", which appeared on the band's own Little Star label, was, "I hope you both get Aids." Sheridan explains, "All our songs are about the real world. That's what peopie think, and often what people say. We might have pop songs, but we're not really a pop band because we write about what actually happens." And the lyrics are impressive throughout, with Sheridan and Fred Browning's words in variably hitting home hard. "The album is diverse musically, but the songs are threaded together through the lyrics. Some people have a problem with that, but we're not that bothered about people who need to be spoonfed," says Sheridan. Cullen sounds similarly uncompromising, when talking about the band's commercial prospects. "We don't have a master plan here. All we've done is make a great record and if people don't like it they can fuck off" he says. Sheridan adds: "We do want to get beyond just getting our records out there and we believe Setanta is the right label to move us up a gear."

Alternative Press 1996 by Chris Nickson
ROC are happy to acknowledge everything as an influence. That's a pretty tall order. But if you listen to their self-titled Setanta/Bar None debut album, it might possibly be true. Trip hop, industrial, seductive breathy pop, guitar rock... there's even a country song poking its ten-gallon hat through the tumbleweeds. "lt's whatever you like," offers Karen Sheridan, the band's token American. "lf you get up in the morning," Patrick Nicholson explains at greater length, "or even if you're just awake, things occur to you, stimuli. And that's what we do. What we want to describe is absolutely everything that happens to us. And that's not very much. We haven't done space travel or brainsurgery, or anything like that. With technology you can cover everything in recording. Why choose to limit yoursef?"

Why indeed? With technology, as Patrick points out, anything is possible. "Like hundreds and thousands of people, we've got an Apple Mac, so we can do whatever we want. lt's an experiment sometimes not to use it at all." Hmm, there's a brain working here. lf everything means something, then perhaps something can mean everything. Speaking of which, just what the hell does R.O.C. mean, anyway? "At one time the name had a meaning," Karen answers, "but it's lost that now, with different members in the band." "Risible Orb Copyists, that was a good one," Patrick recalls. "Royal 0bserver Corps. People keep coming up with them." Resurrection Of Christ? "We've had that. I think the best one ever is Rugby 0r Cricket."

Anything. Everything. As a threepiece - Karen, Patrick, and the mysterious Fred Braunen, who didn't appear at the interview - R.O.C. have existed for a little over a year. But they go back a tad further than that. "We've been making tapes with R.O.C. written all over them for a long time," says Patrick, "since Fred and I were at school. We started to take it more seriously three years ago and stuck out the recordings we had on our own label. We did five singles, got a press reputation, and Setanta called us." They are, by their own admission, not an outfit that plays a lot of gigs. Five in the last two years, to be exact. "ln London you don't have to play live, as long as you get your name in the press," theorizes Karen. "The less you play, the more you get reviewed. And if you get reviewed, you're getting covered, you're being read about around the world. People are so cynical [in Britain]. lf you're seen around too much, that's enough for them not to bother with you." Patrick agrees. "l would recommend this to anyone: lf you want to climb the ladder and get somewhere, I think the way we've done it is exactly the right way. You've got to get a record out, see if it gets picked up, then see if you can get radio play. In this country, schlepping around - unless you're the ultimate, most demonic live group - is awful. You get famous if you don't play live. And that's not just a clever thing to say, it's true." Obviously, it worked. Following the record's release, the band just signed worldwide with Virgin, boding a big, bright, bouncy, eclectic future. No holds barred. And, they hint, maybe even an American tour sometime. For now, though, they're having fun being nasty with technology. And planning those experiences with brain surgery and space travel. Hey, we all need personal growth.

Dazed & Confused 1997 Q 1997

Raze 1997 by William Michael Mills
In a time where formulaic Britpop dominates the nation's bedrooms, the idea of a genuinely innovative band who still have a definite pop edge seems a far off, wonderful possibility. Thank God then for London's ROC, who make music which defies categorisation and throws the preconceptions you had about pop music right out of the window. The multi-instrumentalist trio of Karen Sheridan, Fred Browning and Patrick Nicholson sneaked onto the scene last year with their critically acclaimed, yet criminally overlooked debut album. Landing a plum deal with Virgin Records has given them the last laugh on this score and the follow up album, also dubbed "Virgin", is every bit as ecstatically twisted as its predecessor. 'If you do any sort of art you're doing it as a complaint,' explains Nicholson sipping on a Bloody Mary. 'Basically we're making music for people who don't like life. If you want to listen to music by people who like life then go and listen to fucking Wet Wet Wet or something.'

This is not to say ROC are some shoe-gazing, wrist-slashing depresslves who need to get out more: far from it. The textures on the album cover the whole spectrum of emotions from the brooding angst of "Cold Chill Lately" to the sugary elation of the upcoming single "Cheryl" (a piece af classic bubble gum pop - only this time someone's slipped shards of glass into the Hubba Bubba). 'We're a home-made pop group,' enthuses Nicholson. '|'ve always thought pop music was something that's supposed to be innovative, so I can't see the point in trying for the billionth time to claim the "boys with guitars" crown. It's just a waste of time.' Colorado-born Karen interjects here in her gentle American lilt. 'With bands like Sleeper you have the hiot singles and then when the album comes out it's just more variations of the same track. We don't want to have any of those throw away songs on our album.'

Sometimes hitting and occasionally missing this experimental poiicy is what makes their music stand out and rnost of their contemporaries look frankly dull. 'Every now and then we like taking a real risk with what we do and that's what we find thrilling.' The noise assault of the album's opening track "Dada" certainly fits the risk criteria, but then so too does the inclusion of straight acoustic ballads like "Mountain" which jolts after the teasing of 80s disco soul... or something equally bizzare. The varied nature of ROC's music which employs sonic weapons ranging from quirky old drum machines to a full orchestra is one of the reasons they're reluctant to start touring just yet . 'l don't want to play live until we have a brilliant stage show. When you look at all the most important bands of the past few decades none of them have gone on the road without an amazing live show, which ls what we want to do as well.' For this reason ROC are fiercely protective over their image, employing their old mates in producing their press shots and their videos. 'If anything gets out of our control we get worried,' breathes Karen. 'This is because we're completely paranoid,' deadpans Nicholson. Finally the best impression of ROC's sound is what their irate producer Danton Supple frequently shouts across the studio at them as Karen assumes her best impression of a knob twiddling anaemic studio hermit 'You guys write some beautiful songs, but you just fuck them up - you fuck them up.' And that's why they sound so good. ROC on.

Marie Claire 7/97 by Selina Webb
Plenty of bands set great store by trying to be different. London-based trio ROC, however, actually manage it with their adventurous, groove-based sound. As the band's Karen Sheridan says, 'People seem to find it hard to categorize our music - which I think is a good thing'. ROC (once thought to stand for Reincarnation Of Christ, but now denied) turned heads last year with a bewildering debut album that dished up beauty and bile in equal measure. Their debut for Virgin Records, itself called "Virgin", is just as diverse, swinging from industrial dance to softly sung slowies reminiscent of Velvet Underground. The subject matter is fairly gloomy - one track, "Mountain", explores the tedium of being in prison - but the prevailing atmosphere is more mellow than maudlin. 'It's a record you can listen to lounging on the couch' says Sheridan. 'It might make you think about things, but hopefully you won;t go away too depressed.' It is also an album that gets better the more you hear it, with multi-instrumentalists Fred Browning, Patrick Nicholson and Denver-born Sheridan brewing up some absorbing backing tracks. 'We're very interested in textures and layers, getting little nooks and crannies into the music you might not notice the first time you listen to it,' says Sheridan. The unconventional ROC experience undoubtedly takes time to appreciate, but it's time worth spending.

Melody Maker 5/4/97 by David Stubbs
"Your Mark Roland came closest to the mark with us," says Patrick Nicholson of ROC, whose chattiness belies the band's reputation for aloofness. "He said: 'The aim of the group is to disorientate and confuse you, then hit you with nice tunes.' We don't really have an aim but that's as near as it comes. I think Virgin signed us because the A&R man there thought we were a pop group.'

lf you've heard ROC'S single, "Cheryl", blasting out as regularly as the news bulletins on Radio 1, you'd be forgiven for thinking you were being aurally assailed by a pop group. With its disingenuous, sing-song tones and funky pitter-patter, you might fail to notice altogether the blue sky gradually blackening with rhythmic thunder and dissonance which eventually overshadow the song. Catch the album out later this year on Virgin (entitled, with cryptic provocativeness "Virgin") and you'll wonder if this is the same outfit. "Dada", the opener is a blast of Neubautenesque ack-ack fire, shot through with a sinister sample of former Ugandan dictator ldi Amin culled from a documentary made about him in 1974 by Barbet Schroeder. A stentorian chuckle rumbles through the track - Schroeder has just thrown back at Amin a quote in which he asserted that Hitler was a great man for what he did to lhe Jews. That followed by a clip of the dictator holding forth at a cabinet meeting. "Your duty is not to be very weak. You must not be like a woman who is just weak and he (sic) can't speak, even talk." The errant minister on the receiving end of this ticking-off was found dead in a river a week later.

"lt's an amazing documentary," says ROCer Fred Browning. "Earlier on they show one of Amin's drinks party and there's this band playing called the "Revolutionary Suicide Jazz Band". Maybe that's us. The Revolutionary Suicide Band. We put out one single then follow it up with something completely different. lt's commercial suicide but great fun." Taken in full, ROC spark off a whole gamut of comparisons. "Mountain", sung plaintively by Karen Sheridan (a native Glaswegian brought up in Denver) is a jagged ballad in the tradition of Big Star's "Kangaroo". Elsewhere I think of everybody from Faust to Fleetwood Mac, with Prince and Pavement thrown in. ROC sound Iike different bands at different times; today's musical climate, I suggest, penalises bands for having more than one idea, or at least more than one idea at a time. Patrick: "Yeah, that's a really terrible thing and it's a modern thing. It wasn't the case with bands in the past. lt's only recently that things have became absolute - you're this, or that, or this, or that.

"lf you think of Fleetwood Mac, they had three singers, different songwriters, nobody ever had a problem about that," protests Karen. "Even in the Seventies, 10CC, ELO, all those bands were still trying to be The Beatles. lt was like that. But now we're part of a marketing culture, a more 'knowing' culture that cynically dictates that the smart thing to do is to be one thing."

The one band I don't think of once is the one they're most compared to - Saint Etienne. "lt's disgusting," snorts Patrick, who, with Fred, was first in a band at the age of 14 in a dubious-sounding neopunk combo called Suburban Relapse. "lt's a knee-jerk assumption because we're two blokes and one blonde woman. You can't help but get angry. We even got compared to Mazzy Star because Karen is American and female." "There are unspoken assumptions," sighs Karen. "that Fred and Patrick do everything musically and l'm just the token vocalist. And I have to work that much harder to convince people that I don't just stand there with an ostrich feather round my neck, I do contribute instrumentally."

ROC have often either bewildered critics or sent them into impenetrable raptures. Perhaps it's best to point to ROC, rather than attempt to dissect, much as it's best not to speculate as to what ROC stands for. It is safe to say that theirs is a unique amalgam of traditional songwriting swaddled in avant-noise studio elements which the band claim emanate so naturally they don't consider the noises "weird" - until outsiders point it out later.

"If you've lived in the late 20th century, you can't but help to have been exposed to a combination of pop records and film and TV soundtracks," says Patrick. "Even the sonic environment, the noises in this pub, the sounds of the street, it's all feeding into the collective consciousness." ROC - Regurgitation Of Chaos? 'No." Quite.

The Band 1/98 by Sam Richards
In the studio with ROC
Two minutes from Fulham Broadway station, in the shadow of Stamford Bridge, at the back of a multi-storey car park and adjacent to an Islamic dry cleaning firm, lies the secret to some of the best pop music produced in Britain over the last four years. The hidden location is ROC's personal studio, and if you think I'm exaggerating about the quality and importance of their songwriting, then I can only point you towards their two stunning albums, 'ROC' and, more recently, 'Virgin'. It would be futile to settle upon a brevitous description for ROC's music; indeed, the group themselves are bewildered by the media's need to instantly categorise a band in a single sentence. Suffice to say that genre in this case is subservient to the needs of the song, the constant thread between each ROC track being a spark of unquantifiable brilliance. My first contact with ROC is not via their record company - Fred phones me personally to thank me for a good review I gave their album in Issue 4. I suggest we arrange a feature, and ask when they're in the studio. The strange 303-style acid oscillations that are audible in the background instantly serve to make my question irrelevant. "We're always in the studio," says Fred. Though the range of sounds and instruments on their records suggest a cast of thousands, ROC number only three. Basically each member is a multi instrumentalist, although Karen and Fred tend to record all the vocals and play all the guitars, while Patrick sorts out the keyboard and sampler. The partnership is as equal as you are likely to flnd in any band, but then Fred and Patrick have worked together from as long ago as 1983. Karen joined in the early '90s as a result of having played in bands around London with Patrick. The recording studio was purchased after receiving an advance from their current paymasters, Virgin, but nevertheless is hardly Abbey Road. It consists of a large room housing a few guitars and amplifiers, the scattered components of a drumkit, a sampling keyboard, a sampler, a sound module, a small mixing desk and a home computer. ROC is a lesson in achieving maximum results from minimal equipment. "Pretty much everything is controlled through the Cubase software for the PC," expiains Patrick, rolling the cursor over rows of coloured bars. "There are MIDI attachments between the computer, sampler and keyboard meaning that I can physically control the activation of sounds from the computer screen." The principle seems basic enough. There's no problem if a part is mis-cued: the coloured bar representing each track can be dragged into the correct place, or aligned with the beat using the mouse. Similariy, each track can be stretched, altered, quietened or put through effects on screen. ROC find this method of recording so convenient that even the traditional instruments and the vocal parts are often fed into the sampler (or recorded onto MlDl-compatible ADAT tape recorders) so that the whole song can run from Cubase. Recording onto hard disk is not limited by number of tracks (as in 24 for a reasonably-priced recording studlo), only by memory capabilities of the sampler or computer you're using.

Many producers would walk into this studio and laugh, but conversely Patrick is mildly embarrassed at the relatlve luxury of his current set-up: "The first music we made was recorded using two tape recorders. We would play music on to the first tape, and then transfer the recording to the second tape while adding an extra track, the vocals for example." The quality was limited, but the principle of layering tracks remains the same to this day. "The next stage is to buy a 4-track recorder, and you can pretty much do anything. Before we had all this MIDI gear, we were manually cueing in our samples from tape. After all, a sampler is only a means of storing sound, and so is a cassete."

ROC's debut album was recorded in Patrick's bedroom, a staggering feat considering the epic sound of tracks such as 'Dear Nicky' and 'Sylvia's Thighs'. When Fred maintains that "the only limit is your imagination", it may as well be ROC's personal motto. "If you want to make modern music," continues Patrick, "then you can take a home computer, purchase the software for £300 and get yourself a secondhand sampler or sampling keyboard. The only reason we need any more equipment is that we like to combine electronic sounds with so-called human instruments." With such a range of eventual outcomes, it's apparent that the original stimulus for each ROC song is different. "Sometimes we tread the traditional route and one of us will have written a complete song on acoustic guitar before we enter the studio," says Karen. "'Ocean And England' and 'Ever Since Yesterday' are examples, although obviously we messed about with them later." 'Ocean And England' is a prime example of subtle but brilliant "messing about". The song begins with simply vocals and acoustic guitar, yet by the second verse, the guitar has lmperceptibly metamorphosed into an electric piano. The trick? Fading up the piano into the leffthannel as the guitar is moved from stereo into the right channel only. Then, as the piano is faded across into both channels, the guitar is mixed out completely. "Often," resumes - Karen, "Patrick will have a sample that we build the song around. Sometimes a really good sample will inspire us to write a song." The alarm clock in the shape of a mosque which sits on the studio CD shelf is a treasured ROC possession. Its three-note siren provided the foundation around which former single '(Dis)Count Us In' was created.

"Some musicians may feel a great sense of achievement on completing a track, but usually we just feel lucky!" iaughs Patrick. "Chance plays a big part in our songwriting and we find that our lack of preclsion in the use of instruments and samples throws up possibilities that we would never have considered." Fred elaborates: "Each song has a particuiar arrangement of samples which tells the computer what to play. However, if we accidentally call up a different song title on the sampler menu, the same notes are played on utterly different sounds. If something particularly interesting happens - a bizarre drum track, for example - then we will record it and use it again. The recycling of material that takes place within this band is staggering!"

"'(Dis)Count'" samples one of our own rehearsals and 'Dead Pool' uses a line accidentally taken from 'KC'," continues Patrick. "Actually, an advantage of owning more gear is that you are likely to experience more accidents. It's certainly not a question of being adept with technology, but it's definitely a matter of your own imagination and pleasure with experimenting." Of course, good luck only occurs when you put yourself in a position to receive it. If like ROC, you are alert to the possibillty of utilising all the sounds and inflections of everyday life (not to mention the sounds and inflections of your own or other people's music) in your songwriting, then you will find your musical horizons expanding tenfold.

Owning their own studio is not merely a matter of convenience for ROC. It helps to focus their attention, but it is already obvious that making music is a healthy obsession for the group. Notching up studlo hours is also a way to convince the record company that you are wholly committed to the job in hand - a necessary pacifier, particularly as Virgin are so unsure as to how to market ROC. "I don't understand how other groups can go for such long periods of time without visltlng a studio and then be expected to produce an album in a matter of weeks," says Karen. Her comment betrays scepticism for the traditional record company treadmill on to which most bands are pushed, and which ROC have opted out of by refusing to tour. Which brings us to ROC's general disdain for the record industry. In my review of the album, I disingenuously referred to the band as being purposely anonyrnous and conscious of preserving their mystery.

Karen: "We're on a major label, but it's true that not many people are aware of our music. I don't think that it's at all inaccessible, but we don't conform to the typicai band format and therefore a marketing template for us doesn't exist. Why it's assumed that people can't deal with an eclectic range of music coming from the same band just puzzles me. I mean, everyone makes compilation tapes and everyone has record collections which reflect at least some diversity of muslcal style. Restricting yourself to one type of music is unnatural." Being analytical types, ROC are continuously discussing the machinations of the music industry and the way in which their music can reach a wider audience without diluting. As Karen says: "It's an ongoing problem-solving exercise." The first action has been to organise some live dates early next year, and possibly even a debut tour. 'KC' and 'Dead Pool' are both tentatively scheduled for single release in 1998 and maybe they will finally feel the benefit of a proper promotional campaign. Meanwhile Fred. Patrick and Karen will continue to frequent their Fulham studio every day and produce astonishing music before retiring to the pub to discuss how they can market it. An exhilarating, exciting and sometimes frustrating job, but one that ROC's genius will continue to ponder.

Metro 19/7/00 by Claire Allfree
In years to come R.O.C will look back on their early years as a rock'n'roll band and smile ruefully. They have not been blessed with the success for which they might have hoped. Few people bought their first two LPs, even though Radiohead bassist Ed O'Brien said the second one, "Virgin", was a more deserving winner for the Q best album of the year award than OK Computer. A comment such as that is worth all the absent royalty payments and non-existent public profiles in the world. Well, almost. It didn't stop their label, Virgin, dropping them last year forcing them to release the single "Soviva" on their own label, and it hasn't led to any new record deals.

But they are a rare thing. Their idiosyncratic blend of muffled, post-rock ambience and creeping melodies might be easily identified as the sound of paranoia, but theabrasive surfaces and gutter basslines seem deliberately to aim to repel audiences. Their new slngle, "2000 Mann", takes this even further, sharing the same skin-crawling quality as the sound of fingernails being scratched down a blackboard and as twisted and fractured in mood as any of Tricky's worst hallucinations. Needless to say, it's about as uncommercial as you can get, and all the more bloodcurdlingly brilliant for it.

Diena Izklaide (Latvia) 24/2/01 by Uldis Rudaks
Divas bezmiega naktis
Anglijas, Norvegijas, Francijas, Danijas, Latvijas muzika Par pasakuma galvenajiem viesiem. kurus noteikti vajadzetu dzirdet, tiek devetas divas grupas - elektroniskas mlzikas duets no Norvegijas lllumination un Roc (attela) no Lielbritanijas, kas paspejusi izpelnities gana sajusmas un kriikas britu prese, bet nolemusi nepadoties ierakstu kompaniju diktatam un lauzusi Iigumu ar Virgin Records. Patikamus iespaidusl!


Night Fold Around Me reviewed by John Robinson, Q 7/06
Sulky dance collective return from eight years in the wilderness
In the mid-'90s, ROC, like Underworld, tapped into an interesting dance/guitar hybrid. What held them back commercially, however, was not necessarily their music but their attitude. Indeed their own label, Setanta, deemed them to have "an ego out of proportion to any real achievements" and in 1996 issued a statement saying that. Nonetheless, artistically the trio remained an intriguing fringe concern, and this belated third album sees that continuing. Urban paranoia and moody melody is what they do best, while their efforts at making pop songs out of what sound like miserable life experiences don't come off as well.3/5

Night Fold Around Me reviewed by Andrew Eaton, The Scotsman 9/6/06
A FASCINATING cult oddity, ROC spent the 1990s making two brilliant but willfully uncommercial albums that were all over the place stylistically, mixing occasional Saint Etienne-style dreamy pop with relentless eight-minute instrumentals and unremittingly bleak ballads full of swearing. If that made them a tough sell, their attitude didn't help - their own label, Setanta, wrote an open letter to the music industry branding them egotistical (Virgin released their next album anyway). Ironically, the trio have now made their most accessible album at a time when few people care anymore. This is a terrific collection of lush, intelligent electro pop full of beauty, tempered optimism (the quietly anthemic Sink a Bite into Life) and gallows wit. Princess is a hoot - a love song that proclaims "everything's gonna be fine" despite "all the torture and the maiming and the horror and the raping and the slaughter and the pain". Not for everyone, but oddly life-affirming.4/5

Night Fold Around Me reviewed by Pete Flynn, Newnoise.net 6/06
Those with pointlessly cavernous memories like mine may remember genre-hoppers ROC from the mid-90s. Their promise seemed repeatedly caught up in the mire of label troubles though, so this reappearance years after praised second record 'Virgin' offers a chance to make up for lost time. And although not everything captivates, 'Night...' still holds fine highlights, particularly when Karen Sheridan's enticing hazy voice takes hold of songs. Last December's single 'Journey To The Centre Of Brixton' is a terrific brooding meld of stealthy beats that draws you in unexpectedly, while 'Sing A Poor Song' recalls early Spiritualized brought up to date. Dreamy touches, intriguing ideas and a very welcome sense of not entirely knowing where they're coming from every time or exactly what they've been listening to.

Night Fold Around Me reviewed by Anna Maria Stjarnell, Lunakafe.com 11/06
ROC is Karen Sheridan, Fred Browning and Patrick Nicholson. The group's unusual sound was last heard eight years ago and that's a lot of water under the bridge. Their genre-busting is intact as is their ability to pen great songs. The perfect chill-out track "River" sounds like Saint Etienne in recent years. "Journey to the Centre of Brixton" is perfectly balanced urban pop with a jagged edge. "Sing a Poor song" is a drifting lullaby with Browning's pleasant voice set against a soft backing. The song slowly grows to Spritualized-esque glacial heights. The pretty "Just one thing" is another lovely track. Sheridan's voice is beautiful. The bonus tracks offer up some interesting mixes and alternative versions. ROC are a marvel and I hope they plan on sticking around.

Night Fold Around Me reviewed by Eric W. Saeger, Hippopress.com 11/06/
Pompous, sometimes baffling troop of rich European bastards (one a direct descendant of Bram Stoker) out to get somebody back for something and helping futurepop get a grip in the process. If you were hip to their previous release on Virgin UK, be prepared for a different band: their open-letter flaming of the music industry loosened the chip on their shoulder, leaving space for an angel insisting they drop the prat posturing and accept their talent, begrudged as it may be. In "Princess," Fred Browning muzzles his mentalcase angst in a facelessly commercial groove, but he makes up for it later in the epic Family of God-like "Sing a Poor Song." Karen Sheridan lends her first couple of vocal contributions to piano and guitar ballads that owe their desolation to VNV Nation buzzkills, but in the end she gets the must-download of the album in "Journey To the Centre of Brixton," a shoegazey techno filibuster about the romantic pains generic to lovers too self-obsessed to communicate. B+

Night Fold Around Me reviewed by Boomkat.com 8/06
'Night Fold Around Me' is the third album for Roc and comes to us on small US indie label 12 Apostles after their flirtation with the majors dissipated. Although Roc make quite catchy and infectious alt-pop it sounds a tad dated, bearing a resemblance to William Orbit's Madonna productions of the mid 90s, taking in techno and drum 'n bass influences into a slop of gloss and hairspray. There are occasional moments when the album skirts around this shortfall and the music starts to hint at that Cocteau Twins dream-pop vibe, but for the most part this is frankly too cheesy for it's own good.

Night Fold Around Me reviewed by Chavez Trepas, thechickenfishspeaks.com 4/06
With whispering vocals and techno beats, ROC's third release seems to lash out and wrap itself around the listener with a rich, enticing soundscape. Some of the melodies feel a bit forced, but for the most part ROC has a handle on what they want to convey and they eventually get their point across. One of this disc's shining moments is "Sing a Poor Song". The keyboard work is soft and easy while Fred Browning's velvety voice asks "one day what if you should/ fly away for good/ then what would I do" before it bursts open with a lush instrumentation only to soften back up and cuddle the listener some more. I also like the single version of "Journey to the Center of Brixton"; it's like techno-Blondie. This isn't my favorite kind of music, but ROC is good at it and with three extra tracks Night Fold Around Me is worth a peek.

Night Fold Around Me reviewed by Jonathan Leonard, leonardslair.co.uk 8/06
For a while it looked as if they would never be heard from again but ROC are notorious both on and off record for causing surprises. With their first two records (particularly on 1997's 'Virgin') they mastered the art - along with Baby Bird - of making twisted ideas viable by wrapping them up in dreamy, electronic pop music. Then just as they appeared to be at the top of their game, record company squabbling and name rights meant that they have only just returned on to their own label.

In truth, 'Night Fold Around Me' is no great progression from 'Virgin' but as that album was so good in the first place and few have matched them since, consolidation is forgiveable. There are also signs that they've softened up a tad; 'Just One Thing' is a simple, uncomplicated ballad whilst 'River' is lush and similarly untarnished by the use of a warped lyric. Yet die hards will be comforted - in a manner of speaking - by the evils that lurk within. 'Princess' may possess a fairtytale melody but it's a tainted love song which claims to be unthreatened by serial killers, loveless marriages and burning children but still mentions them all anyway. One of the keys to their successful formula is the way in which ROC cleverly juxtapose Karen Sheridan's pure, innocent-sounding vocals with Fred Browning's seedily suggestive whispers and it's the latter's turn on the Motown-esque 'Too Late Too Much' which is arguably the most distubring as a tale of eating disorders and abortion is set to the disarmingly celebratory melody. So that's ROC in a nutshell really; making sweet music but in their hearts they're just as bitter as ever. 4/5

Night Fold Around Me reviewed by Copacetic-zine.com 8/06
There's something rather disarming about this third album from the London trio called ROC. Their trip-pop sound should appeal to fans of St. Etienne, Darla Records' "drum & bliss" releases, and the poptronica of Mint Royale. Things get off to kind of a bad start with "River," with its super-cliche "river of life" lyrics, but things get better from there, and some of the lyrics later in the album are refreshingly frank and plainspoken, and not without their barbs, like this line from "Just One Thing": "Sometimes you have to work for what you want or people leave you." The album hits high points with "Sink a Bite Into Life" and "Soviva." Karen Sheridan alternates vocals with Fred Browning throughout; her singing is reminiscent of Sarah Cracknell's, and his is conspiratorial and charmingly accented. This album isn't without its flaws - there are a couple of low points, the bonus tracks don't add anything, and the sound is somewhat dated and not the most original - but there's a real earnestness and honesty on display here, and I couldn't help but be embraced by its charms.

Night Fold Around Me reviewed by Mark E, ireallylovemusic.co.uk 6/06
roc have never taken the easy path to perfection. having been chased around the block for signatures by several record labels all those years ago, they still managed to fuck just about everyone off. yet somehow despite all this, they managed to release 2 genre busting albums, one on setana, and the other on virgin. now, after years in the shadows, they have decided to get back into the groove and release their third album via a new york label called 12 apostles. thus giving credence to the fact that roc actually stood for 'resurrection of christ', as with kmfdm, the band have never denied nor confirmed the roots of their google unfriendly name. so, how are things in the roc world in the year 2006 ? bloody great by the sounds of it. if you have dug around this site, you will know that i rated the limited single 'journey to the centre of brixton' as one of the best tracks of 2006, the electro throb oozed menace and a noir-ish beauty in perfect (dis)harmony. thankfully, they have placed the 2 very mind altering versions on the cd, but, alongside these highlights are several other tracks that will make you wonder just why on earth this band are still relatively unknown. yet for all the historic troubles (dig around the bands site for more details), the band is very focused and intent on making their music very special. still comprising of the same three members (karen/vocals, fred/vocals+instr, patrick/instru), and even same knob twiddlers as before, the band obviously know what works best for them.

opening track, 'river' is all processed acoustics guitars, epic electronica ambience and breathtakingly gorgeous vocals by vocalist karen sheridan, so much so, that when the old school guitar solo kicks in and lifts the mood into the heavens you will never go back to your 'the best ambient album in the world ever' as this track is the answer to all such demands. however, just as your mood is soothed, the throbbing intensity of 'journey ..' begins to boil over. it really is that good a track. from hereon things veer into different areas, 'princess' is all baggy styled loops and loose fitting vocals by fred, which i guess match the easy going vibe, just don't get sidetracked by the verbally declared facts that rape, broken marriages, and serial killers and such heaviness are happening all around while you enjoy your perfect day.

as always, undercurrents of malevolence are never far from the surface, thus providing a reason as to why their music rarely hits the airwaves. happy people need not apply to join this particular cult.'sally ann' is structured around strummed guitars, dub busting bass, karens vocals, and a few left of center sonic touches that lift the track out of the normality that begins to permeate the track after 3 minutes, but as the simplistically perfect 'sing a poor song' follows, this makes any such negatives evaporate. epic in sound, and totally special with its far away whispered vocals, dramatic piano, electro throb, and storm effects buried deep in the mix. yet, despite the euphoric atmosphere there is a dark heart beating within the words being expressed, making sure that you never get to comfortable. thankfully, the 5 minutes plus of 'sink a bite into life' does that st. Etienne styled pop music so well, thus providing some welcome relief to a melody line that Giorgio moroder would be proud of. to follow the onslaught of machine based noise, is the acoustically simple 'just one thing', a perfect ad mans dream, a song that could easily be covered by any of the nu-breed of popstars and project this wonderful song to the top of the charts, should anyone delve below the usual suspects. we can but dream.

the rest of the album continues to impress, with its combination of subtly experimental electro based pop music, barbed wordplay and genuine surprises. from the headphone twisted phased dubbed up excess during the centerpiece of relationship breakdown anthem, 'too late too much', the sheer perfection in the direct joy zipper-esque bassline of 'soviva', the deep calm (though often broken by shards of guitar noise to just keep you alert) of 'vespers', and the wonderfully gorgeous album closer (ignoring the multitude of extra tracks dropped on the end for that value for money tagline), to the grand finale 'pleasant dream' that corrects all the darkness that has pervaded the listeners soul for the last 50 minutes, and leaves the listener in a warm blanket of human warmth. just.

oh - about those extra tracks, normally these are throwaway entities of little value i find, typically in the world of roc however, things are never that straightforward !'i want you i need you i miss you' is just a fantastic dubby electro bouncer that just about trumps over the album proper, it's like someone has taken all the best parts of william orbit's bassomatic pop experiment and condensed it into 4 minutes of perfection. damn, it's good.

so, with the album now available for the world to actually buy, i can now state the following: i love roc - and you should too. however be careful, there are some rather prickly thorns embedded within this superb leftfield pop music, so wear protective clothing and immerse yourself into this murky, but addictive world.


Virgin reviewed by John Perry, NME 13/9/97
Bloody hell. Ickle birdy-wirdies cheep and chirp on the run in groove, lulling you into a very false sense of security because something wicked this way comes. It's big, it's bad, it's 'Dada', a roaring, spluttering combine-harvester of a track, a piston disco beat driven by giggling madmen. Then ROC follow that with '(Dis)count Us In', a gurgling, spring-heeled summer groove like Lionrock on holiday. Wow. Whatever next? That'll be 'Mountain', a Velvelty slice of Screamadelics with singer Karen whispering honeyed vocals from a swinging hammock. Ah, yes. Relax into the haphazard but beautiful world of 'Virgin', the Brixton trio's second album of brilliant moodswings. Because if ROC are coming from anywhere it's from all directions at once. ROC have swallowed the recent 'hey, Kids! It's Ok To Like Oasis And The Prodigy At The Same Time' attitude whole, but unlike most bands who say 'you can't pigeonhole us, man', ROC are genuinely like nothing else at all. And everything all at once. Ooh, me 'ead 'urts. OK, it's not all jaw-dropping innovation. '25 Reasons To Leave Me' sounds like a stoned Edwyn Collins drowning in jelly. And for all its Blue Velvet menace, 'Dead Pool' does sound a bit like Nine Inch Nails. Oops. But 'Cheryl' is popped-in trip-hop with style, 'KC' is a lovely folky strum like Everything But The Girl down a well (not before time, cheers) and the dreamy 'Ocean and England' will melt you into a shimmering puddle. Genre-surfing is a dangerous business, but ROC have an impeccable sense of balance. And some really loud shirts. Like, radical, dude. (7/10)

Virgin reviewed by Martin James, Melody Maker 20/9/97
The purity of eclecticism. That point where references become utterly irrelevant and the whole takes over. In these days where the genre mishmash is as commonplace as retro-purism, the shock of (con)fusion no longer exists. The only only important issue would seem to be "just how cool are these references?" ROC, thankfully, fly in the face of the cool brigade. Their references are as broad as the Severn Bridge, from Velvet Underground to Phil Spector, DJ Shadow to Kraftwerk, kitsch rock to Europop, but that doesn't matter because ROC still make it sound like they're treading through virgin territory. Hence the title. Last year I suggested that ROC live were a bit like Sarah Records on the day they discovered trip hop - wimpy, thin and eminently dull. However, with Idid Amin samples and frantic headrush beats, the opener "Dada" pisses on that observation from a great height. "(Dis)count Us In" - a recent MM Single of the Week - finds a flock of sheep beating the old wolf to within an inch of its life before "Mountain" ushers in just a hint of Lou Reed-esque depression ("Berlin" with its walls down?). However they do fall into those 80s indie sensibilities occasionally. "Ever Since Yesterday" is a gutless wonder that makes The Cardigans sound ballsy while the sickly Euro schtick of "Cheryl" is only one step away from a Gina G outtake. Yup, that bad! But wait. The rest of this album is brilliant. A smelted ore of sublime rhythms, aching ambience and solid gold pop action. The aching sound of sweat on flesh, the psychedelic hues of oil on water and the poisonous fumes of ancient landfill. Toxic euphoria. "Virgin", impure as the polluted snow.

Virgin reviewed by Ian Cranna, Q 9/97
The Brixton-based trio's first album was category-defying yet highly-accessible, with film-like lyrics offering glimpses into dislocated scenarios and rhythmic ambiences running from harsh and industrial to gentle and melodic. This follow-up treads the same pleasingly non-retro path, but with the intensity and unease magnified several times. The tracks are tighter and more focused, the rhythms harder, the situations more oblique, the emotions more powerful, the settings more menacing, and the results more disturbing. In each situation - a kiss outside a Los Angeles hotel or an unbargained-for jail sentence - something has gone awry. Cut-ups, samples from televisions and answering machines, and a sense of American dream-turned-nightmare add to the alienation. Yet among the hurtling electro rhythms or simple, pared-down guitars, it remains precisely arranged and invitingly melodic. And it ends with a love song: now that is unsettling. 4/5

Virgin reviewed by David Bennun, The Guardian 3/10/97
ROC should irritate me a lot more than they do. They are, after all, determinedly arty which looks like a snobbish, affectation in a pop band. It makes me think of Sting quoting Jung and I'd rather think of cesspits in a tropical heatwave But ROC have an insidious, nagging attraction that all their cleverness can't disguise. Their last album became a feverish obsession for me when I reviewed it during an evil bout of Chinese flu. That LP has vanished from my shelves, but the new one reminds me why it had such a weird effect on me. It's musical brain fever, scrambled delirium. If you've heard the ugly awkward singles Hey You Chick or Cheryl, ignore them - Virgin is a different kettle of popped synapses. From frenetic garbled techno, veering close to gabba territory or the four-to-the-floor electro-punk of Atari Teenage Riot, to articulate ballads; from torrents of haphazard ideas to sections of unnerving calm, Virgin replicates the experience of battling some hideous virus. You'd think a few slow numbers would provide some relief, but Mountain, Ever Since Yesterday and Ocean And England are so overwhelmingly sad that they feel like the record's real moments of truth. Plain and heartfelt, they make the purposeful experimentation of Said What I Said and 25 Reasons To Leave Me seem futile by comparison. When I went to see ROC at one of their rare live shows, they were expressionless and unstarry. They sat down for most of the set playing but not performing. Once again I suspected I was supposed to believe I was in the presence of Art. Or maybe they're just shy. On the basis of Virgin, they've no need to be. 4/5

Virgin reviewed by James Delingpole, Sunday Telegraph 9/97
Thank heavens for the wonderful world of spurious, rock critic terminology. There I was, racking my brain as to how I could possibly describe the indefinable, uncategorisable, ROC, when lo! | stumbled in Select magazine upon the phrase juste: Post Rock. This handy new term can apparently be applied to any music which ranges lrom 'Krautrock, dub and minimal electronica to drum 'n' bass, jazz and anthemic guitar-scapes'. South London three-piece ROC fit the bill perfectly. So broad, indeed, is the range of the styles explored on their second album - anything from sultry love songs with winsome girlie vocals to Eighties style electro-pop and samples of TVs and answering machines - that it's hard to believe it's the work of one band. Yet what should, by rights, be a directionless, self-indulgent mess is rescued by the intelligence, precision and melodic skill of a band who clearly know where they're going. Even if none of the rest of us does.

Virgin reviewed by Sam Richards, Guitar 11/97
ROC are a genuine enigma. Nurturing a virtually nonexistent press profile and a strong aversion to live performance, they manage to preserve a real air of mystery. It would all be rather baffling if the music itself wasn't fantastic. Breaking free of genre constraints, ROC launch into an eerie industrial noise workout, while by track three they have settled on a sparse, acoustic lament. "Ocean And England" is easily the most beautiful song you will hear all year. If it's any help, ROC stands for Re-incarnation Of Christ. Godlike. 4.5/5

Virgin reviewed by Garry Mullholland, Time Out 10/97
Once in a while, a major label amazes you. lf there's one current British band who seem completely unsuited to commercial success, it's awkward, experimental pop trio ROC. So has Virgin's patronage forced Karen Sheridan, Fred Browning and Patrick Nicholson to define their all-over-the-place take on modern noise? Has it feck. Part pure pop, part avant garde, part left-field dance. part punk intellectuals, ROC's spread of influences know no bounds. In typically contrary style they begin their second album with the gnarled noise of 'Dada' before heading all over the pop shop. 'Mountain' is updated boho folk; 'Cheryl' a swirling nursery rhyme; 'Dead Pool' like Underworld gone jazz fusion. What can you say about a band who have - in Karen Sheridan - a singer who illuminates the darkness of their oddly misanthropic world view, but let Browning rant his way grumpily through half of their songs? And there hangs ROC's problem. I liked their debut album when it came out, but haven't felt compelled to play it since; been to see them live but don't remember what they did or looked like; thought 'Cheryl' was a great single, but understand why no-one bought it. ROC, particularly in a world composed of bandwagoneers and Dadrockers, are admirable but unloveable. Their eclecticism and refusal to fit in ensures that 'Virgin' contains plenty that entertains of impresses, but nothing that inspires, amazes or breaks your heart. Clever people, but hearts made of roc.

Virgin reviewed by Andy Robson, Stuff 9/97
Embracing more musical styles than a Kelloggs variety box, ROC mix a heady brew of electro-beats and dreamy pop that swerves between works of genius and the jawdroppingly dull. Pretentious bollocks or Euro-disco sublime? Er, yes, probably.

Virgin reviewed by David Stubbs, Uncut 97
THERE are many apprehensions and misapprehensions about the wilfully enigmatic ROC. The crassest is to regard them as a St Etienne type combo (two blokes and a blonde-haired singer, you see). Others see them as a dance band, although, if anything, they're a cross between, in equal measures, Fluke, Faust and Fleetwood Mac. Virgin, their label, would like to see them as a commercially viable pop band. ROC see themselves as sometime revolutionary sonic kamikazes who make night raids on your preconceptions - and a commerciallv viable pop band. What are ROC? "Virgin" delights in posing more questions than answers. lf you heard their single, 'Cheryl", last spring, a prim and presentable piece of backtracking electro-pop, you'll be all the more astonished by "Dada", the opener here. Sampling heavily from Barbet Schroeder's famous 1974 documentary about Ugandan dictator ldi Amin, including his chilling, stentorian chuckle when he is reminded by the interviewer of remarks he made in praise of Hitler, it's a screaming, rhythmic firestorm. lf you heard their recent single, "(Dis)count Us In", with its intoxicating, loping Hawaiian guitar loop shot through with a stream-of-consciousness narrative, you'll be pleasingly puzzled by "Mountain", Karen Sheridan's beautiful balladic lament, as shattered as Big Star's "Kangaroo". ROC are capable of anything, and demonstrate as much - sadly, this sort of approach is considered commercially unviable; it screws up the corporate sales pitch when the artist won't sit still. Still, if the prospect of a decentred, pillar-to-post ride through the postmodern gamut doesn't give you a nosebleed, then you and ROC deserve each other. 4/5

Virgin reviewed by Neil Spencer, Observer 14/9/97
This Brixton trio revel in their ability to switch abruptly between styles; one moment they're presenting a futuristic techno sound collage, the next a delicate love song, before diving into whispered Tricky-esque rap. Full marks for invention, at least, but their diversity makes this second album a restless listening experience, while singer Karen Sheridan lacks the character to do justice to some intriguing melodies.

Virgin reviewed by Johnny Cigarettes, Esquire 9/97
ln that seldom explored gap in the space-time continuum between techno, psychedelia and acoustic balladry, you might find London mavericks ROC. Except you'll never pin down their unique oeuvre that easily. "Virgin" veers from frantic tribal-beat hysteria to trippy, delicate, whimsy and surreal monologues in the flicker of a hippie chick's eyelashes. Meanwhile, sun-soaked bliss-outs like "(Dis)Count Us In", fragile melancholy such as "Mountain" and kitschy Eurodisco Iike "Cheryl" are startling, beautiful and addictive.

Virgin reviewed by Johnny Black, Mojo 97
It's encouraging thot the uncategorisable Brixton trio sound as wayward as ever on their second LP, starting with the relentless sonic barroge of Dada, moving through the whimsical use of found vocal somples on (Dis)count Us In, delivering the spooky ballod Mountoin before heoding for experimental pop nirvana with Cheryl. The result though, is musical multiple-schizophrenia. lt's rich pickings for trainspotters who revel in details like the spinning coin in the languidly pretty K.C. - but, when the out-of-tune steel guitar appears towards the end of 25 Reasons To Leave Me, the casual listener would be quite justified in concluding that truly enjoying this album requires too much hard work to make it fun.


ROC reviewed by Roger Morton, Vox 2/96
According to the snapshot sleeve of an obscured face reflected in a hand-held mirror bearing the inscription 'Redeemed with the precious blood of Christ', R.O.C is a pseudo-biblical abbreviation. But it could equally stand for Rock Odball Club. Or maybe Renegade Odyssey of Complexity. Because the first album from the London-based trio of Karen Sheridan, Fred Browning and Patrick Nicholson is one of the most perplexing, disturbing, joyous, gutsy, chaotic and heterogeneous albums you're likely to hear all year. It's a bit of a journey, right. As flagged by earlier critic-beloved singles, like the strange and marvellous "Girl With A Crooked Eye" and the downright frightening "God Willing", R.O.C are genre-hopping types whose forays into raw honky tonk rock or sample-smashed techno are linked mostly by a love of pure pop, religious luncay, American nightmares and sticky perversion. "R.O.C" sounds like the product of some messed-up lapsed Catholic tunester taking a radio-on road trip across the States with a sampler in the boot and some weird drugs in the dashboard. "Can you hear the trains coming all the way from California..." murmurs the (American-raised) Karen on the opening "Desert Wind", with a voice like nimbo stratus cloudover, as a drift of slide guitars, lonesome harmonicas and heat-haze organ conjures up a widescreen, melancholic landscape. It's a beautiful hippy-pop start, a hanging web of mood music which is instantly obliterated by the psycho-rock of "Excised". Sampled TV style evangelism, Fred's distorted voice rants about cocaine and hate, and broiling crash-chord guitars supply a smash-hit nutter groove for the indie dancefloor. With Karen as angel-voice and Fred as devil, R.O.C act out a tug of war between sweetness 'n' pop and darkness 'n' noise. "Christ before me, Christ within me", intones Karen in the "God Willing" excerpt. Then we're off into the corrupted B52's/Saint Etienne pop of "Hey You Chick", stumbling into psychotherapeutic cocktail jazz for "Real Time" and pausing by the side of the road for a lobotomised Fred to busk a cover of "Plastic Jesus".

Eight tracks on and we've gone through poisoned pop-funk ("I Want You I Need You I Miss You"), Karen's extended, Orb-ish monologue recollection of childhood sexual awakening ("13 Summers"), transcendent Paisley Park radio pop ("Dear Nicky") and the ethereal death-rock tale of "Asencion", complete with a nurse's voice saying: "I'm sorry to inform you that your daughter has a significant degree of brain injury...". Sometimes R.O.C's black humour is overdone, but mostly this is a brilliantly sustained juggling act, with sacred, profane, arty and poppy elements kept mesmerisingly aloft. To account for them as just 'weird' would be top overlook the fact that they've succeeded in touching aesthetic bases as diverse as Madonna, Ministry, Prince, Jon Spencer, Portishead, Sonic Youth, Plastikman and Black Grape, while making a personalised musical statement about 'the-times-we-live-in' that's actually listenable. It could be one of those Portishead-type albums that comes in from the left field and looms massive. 9/10

ROC reviewed by David Bennun, Melody Maker 6/1/96
For some reason, Calvin Klein's advertisers have taken to re-screening those laughable Kate Moss clips featuring the Croydon sylph's own voice-over:"Betwayn lav and madness luys - osbeshun." Maybe it's ingrained prejudice on my part, but this doesn't convey much to me in the way of mystique. And anyway, they got it wrong, because between love and madness lies the ROC album, stretching out to touch both at once. The nearest comparison I can think of: Swell, a band so lost in delirium I sometimes wonder if they exist at all. ROC are more tangible, but no less head-spinning. I think I'm in love with them, whoever they are, because they know me so well. And you. They understand you, too. You've never met but they have read your mind. In the moments when you stop thinking, or when your thoughts pass beyond reason, in your red mist, your grisly loneliness or your sensual bliss, ROC are there, unseen, sequinning your skin with electrodes fed directly into their tape machine. ROC operate in regions where language holds no sway(I say! Ed). Their lyrics are neither wry nor telling. They have no quick intelligence, no devastating powers of a