By Mita Tate
While The Iron Lady of British Politics, Margaret Thatcher, ruled the nation and a dejected Morrissey ruled the airwaves with mopey songs about shoplifters, fat girls and their even fatter mothers, The Flatmates pushed aside politics and disenchantment and were just there to have a good time. In the meantime, they also made good music.
With the recent resurgence of jangly tweepop with bands like The Aislers Set and Belle & Sebastian, The Flatmates’ long out-of-print LP, Love And Death, could only be found on eBay going for two day’s salary. Luckily Clairecords, a Sacramento-based label known for shoegazers Mahogany, Con Dolore and Monster Movie, has finally re-released the 18 original songs, along with a Ramones cover of “I Don’t Care” and an untitled bonus track.
The Flatmates began their short career in Bristol in 1985 and became an instant favorite, especially amongst the popular C86 crowd which included Primal Scream and The Mighty Lemon Drops.
Love And Death kicks off with “I Could Be In Heaven,” the first single released by The Flatmates in September of 1986. This irresistible pop song with its infectious “bop bop bop bop bop bop” refrain shows why The Flatmates sound has remained timeless throughout all these years.
The indie hit “Shimmer” stands out, not just because of the beautiful imagery its music and lyrics provoke, but because of its sheer catchiness. While “see me shimmer in the night / Like a firefly burning bright / Shimmer shimmer baby for your love,” won’t win any poetry contests, when added to the blissed-out, overdriven guitars of Martin Whitehead and Tim Rippington and the simplistic, upbeat drumming of Rocker, “Shimmer” becomes an instant classic. “Shimmer” is truly jangle pop at its most primitive, and surprisingly at its best.
Deb Haynes’ vocals at times are similar to Debbie Harry at her most sassy, and yet at other times are able to capture the endearing innocence of late-1960s garage girl group Feminine Complex.
The only downside to The Flatmates’ modest approach is that the songs tend to blend together at times, making it difficult to distinguish one from another. While this happens more often than not on Love And Death, the ingenious, unpretentious nature of The Flatmates’ sound is what makes Love And Death an underrated, timeless pop gem that remains as fresh and chromatic as it did nearly 20 years ago.

The Chronicle gives ´Love and Death (´86-89)´, by The Flatmates three 1/2 out of five stars.