Jesus Jones Perverse
Get It At Discogs
Doubt remains to be the highlight of Jesus Jones’s career, but its immediate followup – 1993’s Perverse – would have fared as well if not for the seemingly inescapable change of musical landscape as the decade progressed. But because it is celebrating its silver anniversary, Perverse deserves a keen reassessment and an affectionate reconsideration—something that eluded it back in the days. Released on Monday, January 25, 1993, through Food/SBK Records, Perverse opened with the laser-lit Rave energy of “Zeroes and Ones.” The ensuing “Devil You May Know” was a different kind of beast – while it exuded faint echoes of the preceding album’s “International Bright Young Thing,” it certainly stood out with its Indian-inspired Psychedelic Pop, predating similar sonic trips made by the likes of Cornershop (“My Dancing Days Are Done”), Kula Shaker (“Govinda”), and Elephant Stone (“Between the Lines”). The techno-jangly “Get a Good Thing” then took the listener back to the smoky and musky dancefloor of the discothèque. And then there was the sinister sound and undulating melodies of “From Love to War.” Jesus Jones then dove into Trip-Hop territories with the lava lamp–conjuring minimalist globules of “Yellow Brown,” after which they launched into something softly metallic in the form of “Magazine.” With the following “The Right Decision,” the band delved into something melodic and progressive, almost Art Rock and New Wave. “Your Crusade” explored again Jesus Jones’s Industrial tendencies, owing to the dreamy synth melodies and buzzsaw-sharp guitar lines. Albeit still in the same dancey and spacey rhythm, the mood then slowed down with “Don’t Believe It.” A sudden shift of style occurred as “Tongue Tied” played next – percussive with a hint of R&B, only to burst into shards of razor-sharp guitar strums and bouncy synth embellishments. The same dizzying and hypnotic effect flowed into the penultimate track – the ominous and cacophonic, aptly titled “Spiral.” Finally, Jesus Jones concluded their aural perversion with the initially filmic vibes of “Idiot Stare,” which eventually transformed into an Alternative Dance stomper in the veins of New Order (“Thieves like Us”), during the legendary band’s Haçienda days. Perverse may have not been as decidedly Pop like its successful predecessor, but it proved as cohesive, more diverse, and nonetheless compelling. It simply got swiftly sidetracked by the slew of new scene darlings that gradually arrived in the mid-’90s. So, by the time Perverse started to surf the mainstream, the ever-restless commercial spotlight had already shifted its focus onto this new batch of bands that came to represent the new faces of what became Britpop.