Reviews by richardwiggins

The Butthole Surfers’ music is not horrendous but it is full to the brim with affectations, disparate ideas threaded together with an implied “can you believe we just did that?” It lacks the adolescent charm you’d hope for. It also lacks the core of an amazing idea which you can hang the rest of an experimental rock album off of. I like that it’s very manic, weird and full of variety - but that’s about it. Ultimately they’re aiming for “woah!” and “huh?!” but instead inspire “hmm.”

If you’ve only heard Neil Young’s most famous albums, there are shades to On The Beach that will surprise you. It’s comforting to hear him in this less momentous mode. He never pushes the performance too hard, you instead lean in and let him whoosh you away with a delicate voice and gorgeous finger picking guitar. He is a great storyteller.

There is a ramshackle, off kilter charm to the Libertines, whether they are delivering an adrenaline fuelled anthem or a more nostalgic, sweet song. I love the harmonies, I think both Karl and Pete have very interesting voices that sound unique together. It’s rare to have two vocalists share equal billing.

I do wonder why they received such an extreme backlash from beard stroking music fans at the time. The fact that they were unlikeable tabloid fodder can’t have helped, with their celebrity getting in the way of their music. Listening back, this is a very well turned out record, lots of fun, with plenty of exciting detail that pops (brilliant little asides) and huge, amped up melodies. They know how to write a song! Perhaps I should take the fact that the kids were loving it and grown ups were groaning as proof that they were doing something interesting and different.

If I was to find one flaw in this beautiful collection of songs it would be the sequencing of the back half of the record. The album keeps feeling like it’s about to end with too many tracks feeling very “final.”

It’s a very gentle, delicate record but not one that’s going to ever get me too worked up. I prefer Elvis when he is getting really weird and wild on the mic, whereas here he is crooning and delivering something more thoughtful and touching. I can see why he was a sensation, but I do find it difficult to replicate that experience as a modern day listener.

The Cure at this point has perfected the art of slow moving, creeping, gothic drama. Drawn out, gorgeous instrumentals with passionate vocals that cut through to the soul. These patient tracks with huge payoffs are punctuated by big singles which would play great in front of a festival audience or on prime time radio. It’s this killer combination that makes them one of the all time great rock bands.

There are some very high quality cuts across this track list, with songs which lean towards dramatic, unspooling musical theatre. I particularly like the famous Tiny Dancer and epic Indian Sunset.

There are also songs which miss the mark considerably with a head scratching disconnect between vocals and lyrics, such as the weak Levon, which is home to some of the worst and least compelling storytelling I’ve ever heard.

I do think this album is a tad overrated and that Elton John has better.

Mannish Boy hits so hard, it set me up nicely for a record that I would have otherwise not been overly excited for. Muddy Waters’ sexually charged and dramatic take on soul is quite arresting initially, but I did find that the experience lulled into a bit of a pattern by the end.

What a strange artifact of 1989! A real sense of fun and energy carries this charming LP. I particularly like the Mark E Smith feature with him rambling over the mic. Telephone has some hilariously delivered lyrics “hello?” “Who’s this?” It starts to drag by the end (at least on the US version which I heard.) It’s very loveable even if it’s good, not great.

Its refreshing to hear the worlds of punk and celtic folk collide in such a carefree way. The Pogues are political but never preachy, nostalgic but never cloying. They want to remind us that music is allowed to be fun. I wish they were a bit better known beyond their Christmas hit, because they deserve it!

What a phenomenal record, and one of such variety. The cathartic first half has a string of high octane, propulsive hits, including We Will Not Be Lovers which now stands as not just my favourite Waterboys song, but one of my favourite songs full stop. The power and aggression from that repeating violin line is quite something, and blows the lid off of anything you could possibly imagine holding the genre title “celtic rock.”

All of that aggression leaves the room in the friendlier second half, but none of the energy or momentum is lost. What you have instead are emotionally mature, very smart folk rock songs which, for this listener, tugs at the heartstrings. It's a wonderful one-two which shows a band with multiple sides to them. I am partial to traditional folk, so a highly sincere offering like The Stolen Child which might get a sideways glance from a more cynical listener genuinely brought a tear to my eye.

Everyone is going to have music that is anathema to them and I think that’s what I’ve stumbled across here. I just can’t abide by it. I may well have heard Hardline According to… when I was younger because it makes me feel like a bored child listening to another generation’s music. Some elements are weirdly dated, kind of kooky 80s pop soul, other moments are a little bit more probing, serious and quite strained. Neither of these modes work together. None of it clicks in my head.

Some of this is very good, but they are trying their hand a few different things and in the back of your head your directly comparing it to bands of the era who are committing to individual elements with more focus and clarity. Do you want a psych album? Music hall? Toytown music? You'll get a little bit of all of that here but not enough of any of it.

The narrative structure in the second half sounds like a band who are trying how to make a side B which feels "complete" but it just serves to distract and make the album a little stop start.

There's good tracks on here, but its a flawed album.

This is a very smart, refined record with a restrained spy thriller quality to it. I'd love to see a Portishead themed James Bond movie.

I quite like trip hop as it turns out, but I don't love it as much as others. All the singles on this record are top drawer, but the album tracks leave me feeling a little fidgety. Something about the combination of dramatic, slow moving vocals and crispy, clicky production works better in some moments than it does in others.

It amazes me that this an American band as Forever Changes truly feels like it is home British sensibilities.

Someone I was dating at the time bought me this record 10 years ago and I loved it. They then borrowed it and another LP - and I never got them back!

The album is great throughout but really blooms in the second half. There is an unsettling, twisty turny, eeriness to The Red Telephone in particular. It’s romantic but at the same time creeps me out in the most fantastic way.

X-Ray specs bring a great atmosphere. I particularly liked the extra melodic push provided by the saxophone, which was always welcome. Some songs are more punk than others but it’s certainly a nice counterbalance to the more celebrated punk acts of the era. There is a uniformly fun and exciting sound but I think it’s missing a couple of killer singles that push it into that next category for me.

A very smart, sophisticated album with some killer singles which really, really stand out. Its much more relaxed than other downtempo records I'm used to which usually maintain a certain kind of drive all the way through. Air are happy to pull almost everything out of the mix at points and let the listener float.

Overall is fine. Quite charming in places and made for a nice listen while I read. I do wish he’d had a more sympathetic producer, because my word from track 5 those MIDI synth horns jump out at you. They are totally out of keeping with the rest of the composition. The bass playing is also a bit wacky in parts.

When I was 17 I heard Grace Slick and the Great Society and was spellbound by Grace's powerful performance. She has an eerie, cult-leader like voice and a talent for storytelling. The comparatively rough and ready live recordings of songs which end up on this record are an absolute delight. What I prefer to that live record is that the band let each idea ride out for long stretches before returning each time to the core of the song at play. Things on this studio Jefferson Airplane records are (to my ears) a little bit more straightforward, and the improved quality of the recordings does not enhance the overall production. I also just love Grace Slick's voice, and I'm not nearly as enamoured with the male singer who sings on the majority of these songs. Its objectively a great album but that early experience of being blown away by something similar, but substantially different has left a mark on me.

The B-52’s manage to be erratic and quirky without ever losing their focus in delivering well crafted, punchy, new wave hits. There are several songs, like Rock Lobster, which almost sound like short sharp punk tracks that, rather than resolving within two minutes, spin out into different, ever more textured developments on a theme. All the while their crazed, energetic and joyful approach just fills the listener’s head with a big, bolshy buzz. How are these guys not even more popular than they are?

Beck delivers another smorgasbord of random flavours which don’t work together. Love the ambition, hate the results. Some songs work better than others, but this is often the less interesting ones. And when he raps it’s the worst.

Broken Drum stands out positively, delivering something more reflective, in the style I enjoy on Morning Phase.