I am not sure that I have ever
listened to this album. I think,
but I am not certain, that it was
a gift or a loaner from my friend
Curtis. I texted him this morning
to confirm. If he denies this, or
doesn’t remember, then I do not
know how I came by this record,
Danseparc by Canadian band Martha
and the Muffins, circa 1983.
Curtis doesn’t remember. I told
him that my default explanation
when I come across a record in the
collection that I don’t remember
buying is that it came from Curtis.
He thought that was reasonable.
He gave me the Cabot-Lodge cover
album of Dylan songs. He gave me
that Gang of Four album. And he gave
my son a record of accordion music
once, a record I may have acquired
but have not yet arrived at its place
in the alphabet. Oh well, this one
is a mystery. So let’s give Martha and
the Muffins a spin, shall we?
“Everyday it’s tomorrow,” apparently.
It is quintessentially new wave, replete
with hand claps, silly lyrics about dancing
balanced by more heady subject matter,
a slightly unhinged female lead vocal,
chant-like male back up vocals, groove-
oriented, almost tribal pop reminiscent
of Remain In Light, bursts of explosive
guitar, synth jabs, lots of latin percussion,
and a fair amount of horn honking.
I’m guessing that if I would have
heard this record as an 18 year old,
I would have loved it. Listening now four
decades after the fact, I think it’s difficult to
hear 80’s music for the first time in 2026
and not feel, unjustifiably perhaps, that it’s
largely derivative of other, better bands.
I hear in these Muffins hints of Blondie and
The Motels and Pretenders and some of the angle
and humor of Pearl Harbor and the Explosions,
but the nods to Talking Heads are a bit
over the top. “Several Styles of Blonde Girls
Dancing” is about as close to “Once In A
Lifetime” as you could safely get without
being accused of blatant thievery,
especially that bass line and groove
through about three quarters of the tune.
When Muffin Mark Gane sings lead, there’s
a pretty significant Gary Numan thing
going on–or any number of those English
cats of the New Wave movement.
Ultimately, this is a strong band, a good
album full of fine musicianship and the best
of 80’s silliness. It’s far, far from terrible,
a peak into a band that, had circumstances
been just a little bit different, could have
been massive.
Notes on the vinyl edition: Danseparc, RCA Records, 1983, black vinyl, record jacket is notched up at the top indicating a “cut out,” that the record was part of a discounted, deleted, or overstock inventory.
In case you don’t already know: I’m listening to almost everything in my vinyl collection, A to Z, and writing at least one, sometimes two or three long skinny poem-like-things in response for each artist, and on a few occasions, writing a long skinny poem-like-thing in response to more than one artist. As a poet and a student of poetry, I understand that these things look like poems, but they don’t really sound much like poetry, hence, I call them “poem-like-things.” I’ll admit that they’re just long, skinny essays that veer every now and then into the poetic or lyric.
michael jarmer 