Though less commercially successful than their eponymous debut, Crowded House’s second LP, 1988’s Temple Of Low Men, nonetheless went gold in the US and made a big splash in Oceania, where it topped the Australian chart and peaked at No.2 in New Zealand. Post-release, the band toured in both Australia and Canada (where Temple… also received a platinum disc), with their core trio of Neil Finn, Nick Seymour, and Paul Hester augmented initially by former Split Enz keyboard player Eddie Rayner and then by ex-Supertramp alumnus Mark Hart. Following the tour’s Canadian leg, frontman and primary songsmith Neil Finn embarked on a fruitful period writing new songs with his brother (and Split Enz founder) Tim, the pair’s newly minted co-written songs intended for an album to be recorded as The Finn Brothers. However, after Crowded House’s label, Capitol, rejected most of the demos the band had prepared for their mooted third LP, Tim Finn agreed that Neil could instead record some of the pair’s songs with Crowded House, providing he too could join the band. Tim has since stressed this wasn’t a serious proposition, but whatever the truth of the matter, when Crowded House reconvened with producer Mitchell Froom for their third LP, Woodface, they’d morphed into a quartet featuring Tim as a full-time member.
When Woodface was eventually released, in July 1991, it wasn’t hard to hear why Neil had been keen to utilize eight of the mooted Finn Brothers songs, as they were among the most melodic, infectious tunes he’d had a hand in to date. Most of them featured the brothers sharing lead vocals, though Neil sang the elegant, melancholic “Four Seasons In One Day,” while Tim took the lead on the filmic, string-assisted ballad “All I Ask.” The Finn Brothers were also dually responsible for two memorable, radio-friendly staples courtesy of “It’s Only Natural” and the ridiculously catchy “Weather With You”: the latter of which provided the band with their first UK Top 10 hit. Elsewhere, however, Neil self-penned several of Woodface’s perennials, including the affecting “Fall At Your Feet,” the edgy, voyeuristic “Whispers And Moans” and the energized, Squeeze-esque “Fame Is.”
Curiously, despite presenting a feast of beautifully crafted, airwave-friendly pop, Woodface received mixed reviews from the critics and, surprisingly, stalled at No.83 on the US Billboard 200. However, this blow was cushioned by Crowded House’s burgeoning popularity in Europe, where the album went Top 30 in half a dozen territories and peaked at No.6 in the UK, yielding double-platinum British sales for the band into the bargain.
The Jam's Setting Sons was originally planned as a concept album about three childhood friends who, upon meeting after some time apart, discover the different directions in which they've grown apart. Only about half of the songs ended up following the concept due to a rushed recording schedule, but where they do, Paul Weller vividly depicts British life, male relationships, and coming to terms with entry into adulthood. Weller's observations of society are more pointed and pessimistic than ever, but at the same time, he's employed stronger melodies with a slicker production and comparatively fuller arrangements, even using heavy orchestration for a reworked version of Bruce Foxton's "Smithers-Jones." Setting Sons often reaches brilliance and stands among the Jam's best albums, but the inclusion of a number of throwaways and knockoffs (especially the out-of-place cover of "Heat Wave" that closes the album) mars an otherwise perfect album. [The Super Deluxe Edition of the Jam's Setting Sons greatly expands the half-hour album from 1979, adding the non-LP singles surrounding the album's release, a CD's worth of alternate takes and demos, plus a Peel Session from 1979, a full concert at the Brighton Centre, and a DVD that combines the album's promotional videos and BBC appearances on Top of the Pops and Something Else. The singles -- the A-sides "Strange Town," "When You're Young" and "Going Underground," along with their flips (highlighted by "The Butterfly Collectors" and "The Dreams of Children") -- are familiar but there are 14 unreleased tracks on the second disc, mainly demos that range from solo Paul Weller works ("Thick as Thieves" cuts a lasting impression with its swirling phased guitar) and full-band run-throughs. The Jam sound cool, tight, and efficient on their Peel session but the true keeper is the furious Brighton performance, where the bandmembers appear to be sprinting each other toward the finish line on every performance.]
NMA proved that they were well worth waiting for. Thunder and Consolation begins grandly, keeping the keyboards from "White Coats" on "I Love the World," an anthem filled with bittersweet irony and sarcasm. Self-produced, the album never falters, and the single "Stupid Questions" made an impression on American college and modern-rock radio, especially when working visas were granted to the band and they were allowed to tour the U.S. Violin was added by Ed Elain Johnson to further fill out the sound and give it an "Irish Folk" quality on epic songs "Green and Grey," and "Vagabonds." The band uses samples on "225" and "Green and Grey" to further enhance the flavor of the album
What an out and out shock. The Stranglers have gone sensual, sounding sincere, serene, and sensitive (and philosophically introspective). And it's perfect. It took 'em nine years, but they're at their peace now. Which isn't to say that this is preferable to putting on their first couple albums and early singles and rocking out to the sheer unrepentant, harsh rock of greats like "Hanging Around," "Straighten Out," or "No More Heroes"; but it sure is OK to veg out and dream along with these lithe little pop songs, with Hugh Cornwell now cooing instead of growling the likes of "Let Me Down Easy" and "No Mercy," and especially "Skin Deep." This stuff is almost as quiet and soulful as what the Passions have been up to, and that's what really surprises. And let's be honest -- the previous one or two Stranglers albums had some OK tunes but seemed stuck for new direction, so now they've finally settled on where they want to go after a decade of playing such harder music. You just never thought they could transition to this contrasting style so well
The original title, Crank, would have been apt. Producer Gil Norton (Pixies, Echo & the Bunnymen) was brought in to toughen this band's sound and set them apart from the wave of U.K. upstarts who were pounding U.S. shores. That he did. But it's not necessarily progress; Talk Talk's master experimentalist, Tim Friese-Greene, gave Catherine Wheel's brilliant debut, Ferment, a dripping beauty, opulent textures illuminating barely hidden firepower. On even the most angry, aggressive tracks, such as "Texture" and "Shallow," this shimmering, shuddering mist was still ever-present. Many of those glistening touches have indeed been subtracted by Norton, and they're missed. That Chrome is still a terrific LP proves Catherine Wheel capable of eclipsing the overload. Like another sharp LP that "cranked" for an hour without much sonic letup, Chrome reminds one of Sugar's Copper Blue. Not because Catherine Wheel covered Hüsker Dü on the 30 Century Man EP; it's because that was the last LP that combined this kind of songwriting prowess, raging playing, dynamics, pop tunes gone kablooey, and huge, bonfire sound. And unlike that toasty Sugar LP, this twin-guitar quartet knows how to bring it down: both the spindly single "Crank" and the resplendent "The Nude" seem almost tearful, they're so pretty through the thickness, and the knockout "Strange Fruit" is as fulsome as it is fierce. Rob Dickinson sings as if to choke on his words, yet never loses a gritty determination backed soundly by his and Brian Futter's guitars. Add in heavier versions of previous B-sides-that-deserved-better "Half Life" and "Ursa Major Space Station," and you've got a double play from a band too resolute to fall victim to sophomore slump wimp out, too talented to write half-baked tunes in two minutes, and too strong to glaze out in a shoegaze haze some pigeonholed them in after Ferment.
After recording a series of albums that established him as a pop-minded interpreter of soul styles, Robert Palmer surprised fans in 1980 with the stylistic about-face of Clues. On this album, he brought his sound into the new wave era by playing up the rock edge to his music, stripping the high-production gloss from his sound, and incorporating synthesizers into the arrangements. The end result became a big hit in the U.K. and paved the way for later international successes like Riptide and Heavy Nova. Clues also produced two notable singles in "Looking for Clues," a clever slice of new wave pop that surprises the listener with an unexpected xylophone solo, and "Johnny and Mary," a moody synth-driven ballad with perceptive lyrics about a doomed romantic relationship. There is also an impressive cover of Gary Numan's "I Dream of Wires" that retains the chilly electronic grandeur of the original while successfully working in an earthier rhythm arrangement that makes the song dance-friendly. Elsewhere, Palmer shows he hasn't abandoned his penchant for soul and ethnic music: "Woke Up Laughing" filters an African-style, chant-like vocal melody through a minimalist electronic production style, and "Found You Now" effectively combines a reggae groove with a deadpan sense of cool that is very "new wave." The end result is a bit short (it clocks in at barely over a half hour), but it remains one of Robert Palmer's strongest and most consistent albums. In short, Clues is a must for Robert Palmer fans and worth a spin for anyone into new wave.
Managing the sometimes hard-to-negotiate trick of expanding their sound while retaining all the qualities which got them attention to begin with, on Mask the members of Bauhaus consciously stretched themselves into newer areas of music and performance, resulting in an album that was arguably even better than the band's almost flawless debut. More familiar sides of the band were apparent from the get-go; opening number "Hair of the Dog," one of the band's best songs, starts with a double-tracked squalling guitar solo before turning into a stomping, surging flow, carefully paced by sudden silences and equally sudden returns to the music, while Murphy details cases of mental addictions in pithy phrases. The energy wasn't all just explosive angst and despair, though; the one-two punches of "Kick in the Eye" and "In Fear of Fear" have as much hip-shaking groove and upbeat swing to them as portentous gloom (Ash's sax skronk on the latter, as well as on the similarly sharp "Dancing," is a particularly nice touch). Elsewhere, numerous flashes of the band's quirky sense of humor -- something often missed by both fanatical followers and negative critics both -- make an appearance; perhaps most amusing is the dry spoken-word lyric beginning "Of Lillies and Remains," as David J details a goofily grotesque situation as much Edward Gorey as Edgar Allen Poe. Add to that three of the most dramatic things the band ever recorded -- the charging, keyboard-accompanied "The Passion of Lovers," the slow, dark fairy-tale-gone-wrong "Hollow Hills," and the wracked, trudging title track, where the sudden appearance of an acoustic guitar turns a great song into a near-perfect blend of ugliness and sheer beauty -- and the end result was a perfect trouncing of the sophomore-slump myth. [The Omnibus Edition of Mask was a three-disc package including the original 10-track album on the first disc, 17 singles and outtakes on the second disc (eight of them unreleased demos or rough mixes), and, on the third disc, a 17-track set recorded live at the Hammersmith Palais in November 1981.]
Having built up both their reputation and their increasing musical range over earlier releases, the members of KMFDM brought it all together on the brilliant Naïve, one of industrial/electronic body music's key albums and a great blast of entertainment from start to finish. The self-referential qualities evident from earlier songs like "More and Faster" came to the fore with the brief "Welcome," literally doing just that for new listeners, and from there KMFDM does everything from four-to-the-floor beats to Wagnerian epic metal and back again. What's especially impressive about Naïve is that for all the genre-hopping, it's all still clearly the work of one band -- but one so ridiculously good that everything they touch pretty much turns to gold. The title track is especially fantastic, a disco anthem for a generation grown up on feedback as much as acid pulse, with a catchy-as-hell lead female vocal matched by the expected distortion on En Esch's own drawl and the whole thing slamming forward without pause. As good as that it is, though, there's no question which song is the total standout -- "Liebeslied." Outrageously interpolating Carl Orff's noted vocal piece Carmina Burana into a bombastic explosion of mechanical rhythms, orchestral hits, and an increasing amount of hero guitar feedback slabs, not to mention the husked, desperate lead vocals, it's a jawdropping masterpiece that demands and gets total surrender.
