Kids in the Kitchen – s/t
Place in Time:
Originally released in May 1985 in Australia under the title Shine, this self-titled debut for the Melbourne band Kids in the Kitchen hit the International market a year later with a different cover and sans the Shine title.
Vinyl Me:
I came across this nugget in a Half Price Books — the one with all the vinyl. If you’re a HPB shopper, you know there’s one in your area that gets all the interesting records. If you’re jonesing for some more Barbara Streisand or Kenny Loggins (and let’s be honest, who isn’t?) feel free to visit any of the others.
While my musical tastes skew in all directions, when I visit this particular shop there’s only one thing on my mind. Odd or interesting 1980’s selections. All I need to do is unearth a few before the kids lose their minds. I generally have 12 minutes. On this day, I had 9 before meltdown. Commence extreme crate diving.
Normally by the time I hit the “K” section I’ve got a handful of prospects tucked under my arm and my daughters (ages 8 and 5) are moaning about being bored or asking me how far I think the 45s will fly. That means the fingers start flying faster and I might miss a gem or two. That Kids in the Kitchen cover, however, would not be overlooked. Bright yellow polo shirts? Red scarves? Smug new waveness or post-punk record label conformity? Are those a dozen eggs? Nakatomi Plaza? All bathed in the sickly neon streaming in through the “Kids in the Kitchen” monicker atop the sleeve.
It screams “the record label said we’d make bank if we sell ‘edgy’ but I’m really just thinking about that half-finished bag of Doritos at home in the pantry.” Also, “Cravats are itchy.”
Impressions:
The band definitely falls under the auspices of the angsty, synthesized shadow cast by new wave / new romantic bands such as Ultravox or Visage, but Kids in the Kitchen never met a Duran Duran groove they didn’t like. So while, lead singer Scott Carne likes to elongate his vowels to profess his depth and inner turmoil, there’s a poppier, commercial softness here rather than cold artificiality.
This is probably best represented by the band’s most successful track, “Current Stand,” which serves up a radio-friendly and potently hooky chorus, simple melodies and 1980’s sexy sax. Pure palatability.
The album’s first two singles “Change in Mood” and “Bitter Tears” promise more, perhaps, and would have rightfully qualified them as a band to watch — if they’d hung around long enough to evolve into something more interesting. Solid pop vocals and a pleasant blend of electronics and instrumentation only goes so far.
It’s not too surprising that the band got lost in the new wave shuffle despite registering Australian Platinum. They’re ear-friendly but overly familiar, especially considering this record didn’t reach U.S. or U.K. ears until the middle of 1986 — a time when this new wave had long since reached its peak.
The band splintered shortly after the release of this debut. The guitarist and keyboardist quit, and Kids in the Kitchen only released one more record, 1987’s Terrain before calling it quits in 1988.
Verdict:
The Kids stay in the Kitchen. As a relative oddity due to the fact that it never saw a CD release outside Australia, vinyl’s the only way to smell what the kids are (still) cooking. It’s not going to be a rotation staple, but I could see some “Change the Mood” cravings coming back around in time for a midnight snack.
