This Buzzcocks reissue may only be of use to those fanatical enough about the band to care how they sounded circa 1976. At best, on a few numbers, you detect the germ of a great band whose sonic identity has yet to be fully formed. Not yet in full evidence is their prototypical melody-driven pop-punk sound-- the precise, sophisticated brand of punk that would move the Buzzcocks, in a technical sense at least, a step beyond the Sex Pistols and the Clash. On Time's Up, though, these guys are either blazing at a furious pace or barely able to hold their shit together.

Here, the Manchester boys, including original vocalist and songwriter Howard DeVoto have more affinities with the likes of the Sex Pistols than the Buzzcocks of 1977-80. They do graft a minimalist art school cleverness not unlike that of early Wire onto the overall sound. Frontman DeVoto growls, whines and barks like Johnny Rotten, Jr., spitting lyrics more purely misanthropic than politically inclined. Meanwhile "Starway" guitarist Pete Shelley looms in the background, banging out a crass barrage of unrefined noise, equaling the effect of Devoto's grating vocal attack. All the while, Shelley's future guitar sparring partner, Steve Diggle, handles the bass chores.

Sparked by little more than anger and youthful energy, the Buzzcocks sound appropriately raw and untested here. The guitar and bass rub up against each other in a noisy, abrasive grind. Juxtaposing the band's fledgling technical imperfections with their later air-tight rhythms, great vocal harmonies, and clever, economic leads can be pretty astounding at times.

Shelley's mastery of guitar seemed, at this point, to encompass either simple blues runs or absolute atonal fretboard chaos. An inkling of melody bubbles up on "Can't Control Myself," as well as a heavy dose of the Shelley's guitar freakout antics. Here, in bare bones blueprint form are the outrageous "Orgasm Addict" and the underrated Buzzcocks classic about everyday working class pathos and ennui, "Boredom." For the most part, the guts of these songs are intact and the structures are firmly set in place. The highlight of "Boredom" is-- what else?-- Devoto's appropriately elitist, sarcastic sentiments: "I'm living in this, uh, movie, but it doesn't move me."

And then there's Shelley's equally sarcastic guitar solo: the two note exercise in monotony and a gesture smacking of sheer genius. He takes what is an essentially meaningless, ridiculously simplistic, and rather longish guitar passage and ends up with the perfect musical (or in this case, near musical) statement for this particular context.

The fast Yardbirds-ish blues rock of "I Love You You Big Dummy" is a silly throwaway at best, and possibly a parody of the hated pub rock act of the time, Dr. Feelgood. And DeVoto's over-the-top angry young man fare on "You Tear Me Up"("You tear me up/ What a hideous crime/ You tear me up/ You're a bloody swine!") reveals why DeVoto and Shelley parted ways so early on. "I don't like most of this new wave music," DeVoto admits in the record's liner notes. "I don't like music. I don't like movements." Judging from later efforts, though, Shelley was obviously interested in advancing the musical aspect of the band, while it's a good bet DeVoto simply enjoyed being an self-centered irritant-- a brooding non-conformist art punk, dodging any situation that even hinted at conventional success. Noble, eh?

With a little patience, you can sift through the glorious muck on Time's Up and come away with a few memorable moments. For rabid Buzzcocks fans, this is not necessarily a musical revelation, but it's definitely an important historical document and reference point tracing the sound of the legendary band back to its earliest roots. A rare opportunity, indeed. Although, for me personally, the album's appeal doesn't extend beyond being an amusing curiosity. As for DeVoto, his heart was in the right place, initially, but hey, I think we're all basically glad the bloke fucked off, right? Certainly "Ever Fallen in Love" wouldn't have been recorded had DeVoto been within a country mile of it. Too "new wave," I suppose. But, then again, Howie, what the hell was that Magazine thing all about?

-Michael Sandlin