Everything in life comprises odd timing and weird coincidences. So, my tracking down the first album, Beach Party, by Britishers Marine Girls, released just about thirty years ago, could have only led me to a piece of writing by Tracey Thorn and posted over at Quietus.

One of the group’s two songwriters, Throne runs through a few odd meetings she’s had over time during which famous people expound on their love of all things Marine Girls. She goes on to figure that ending the group so soon and so suddenly was the only end note possible.

After hearing Beach Party, it’s not an unfounded sentiment. Just a bummer. And if one’s even vaguely interested in the Young Marble Giants, the Marine Girls count as important listening. In fact, if one’s ear holes have been finely tuned to the girlishness rolling off of that lone YMG compilation, prepare yourself. This sounds even more sparse – just devoid of drum programming.

First issued on Phaze (?) and subsequently reissued by Television Personalities’ front man Dan Tracey, the Marine Girls first long player fits seamlessly with what the Television Personalities and groups like the Desperate Bicycles were working with. It’s not that these bands were willfully inept at its collective instrumentation, each was empowered by the possibility of recording music…and having anyone else hear it.

Today, that’s lost on a lot of folks with bedroom styled recordings, aiming at beefing up visibility before attempting to work up a live band. But the Marine Girls are the sound of people figuring out how to entertain. For that very reason – and the fact that the band was made up of women not too far beyond 20 – Beach Party focuses almost exclusively on love songs. It’s a universal trope. An understandable one, though.

Difficult isn’t quite the proper word to explain picking out highlights here. Most songs are pretty much all the same. “Day/Night Dreams” has hand claps and seagull sounds drop in atop of the song. But for the most part, unless there’s a surprisingly catchy hook, this is going to all run together.

The album opener – penned by Thorn – “In Love” almost apes a ska riff, but is quieted by the vocals. Again, though, the song’s just about the most despicable and problematic issue facing couples or those that used to be couples. Bloody, stupid love. We can all pretend that we’re happy for those we’ve become estranged when they find a new mate. But seriously? That’s how naive (and good) this album.