The glimmering, jangly pop of the Lotus Eaters evokes images of lonely summer afternoons. Peter Coyle's dulcet vocals ache with profound yearning; Morrissey may have won the mope rock mantle in the '80s, but if the Lotus Eaters had become as successful as the Smiths, Coyle would've robbed him of the Sad Sack crown. No Sense of Sin, the Lotus Eaters' 1984 debut album, is a gorgeously crafted collection of melancholic guitar pop. "Love Still Flows" and "The First Picture of You" caress the ears with haunting piano and twinkling guitars; both songs unreel with a cinematic feel, the music and lyrics drawing sentimental memories from the listener's imagination. On the powerful "It Hurts," Jeremy Kelly's guitar sounds like a heart shrieking in pain as Coyle wallows in his grief. The starry-eyed keyboards and sing-along chorus of "German Girl" and spellbinding violin of "Set Me Apart" deepen the Lotus Eaters' appeal; they further explore Coyle's hankering for affection while lifting the spirits with sharp hooks. [No Sense of Sin was reissued by BMG Japan in 1998, and that version easily tops the original with ten bonus tracks, including the driving "You Don't Need Someone New" and the delicate "Two Virgins Tender."
The Dream Academy was the self-titled debut release for the art-school trio led by lead singer/guitarist Nick Laird-Clowes. Produced by David Gilmour and Laird-Clowes, the group was rounded out by vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Kate St. John and keyboard player Gilbert Gabriel, and they struck the first time out with the album's standout track, "Life in a Northern Town," which became a Top Ten smash in the spring of 1986. The Dream Academy used lush string arrangements and choir-like background vocals to create a sumptuous backdrop for their paisley-tinged pop. It works to best effect on "Life in a Northern Town," a slice of watercolored nostalgia with its memorable chant-like hook. Other highlights include the sax-driven "The Edge of Forever," the gentle dream recollection of "In Places on the Run," and "This World," with its somber, stark portrayal of the downtrodden. Laird-Clowes' vocals are thin, a shortcoming masked by the soft focus of the material, and the album falters a bit during the second half; however, the best material on this record leaves you longing for more.
One of the most sublimely spiritual albums ever made, Simon Toulson-Clarke and Julian Close's masterpiece of new wave, pop and world music (long before it was trendy) has become somewhat of a cult sensation with its re-release (complete with bonus tracks) in 2008. Though known primarily for the hits, "Lean on Me" and "For America," there is not a bad track among this lot. It is a hypnotically beautiful record, as endlessly listenable as it is perfectly performed. Legendary producers David Motion and Phill Brown lend a hand to fine-tuning this classic album's sheen. This is that rare album wherein the listener is left humming every single song. A perfect record -- and that is, indeed, an accomplishment
A Tune a Day, the band's second release, doesn't change that perception, but instead improves upon the debut in both song writing and structure, effectively saving them from a sophomore slump. The Supernaturals returned the second time around with an even stronger set of tunes to turn out a disc with no weak tracks, and, remarkably, they crafted some of the best British releases of 1998. Opening with the throbbing "You Take Yourself Too Seriously," the band make a very serious statement right off; the Supernaturals brand of pop music isn't meant to be taken seriously. It's fun, inventive, playful pop music with clever and unforgettable lyrics, but that doesn't mean that it isn't altogether irresistible and unforgettable. The range of tempos and textures makes A Tune a Day rival their debut, and this album contains several sing-along anthems for multiple occasions; there's a summertime anthem ("I Wasn't Built to Get Up"), a breakup anthem ("Sheffield Song"), and a falling-in-love anthem ("Let Me Know"), as well as the over-wrought, gut-wrenching album closer, the beautiful power ballad, "Everest." They even dip slightly into glam rock with "It Doesn't Matter Anymore" and "Still Got That Feeling," or Sgt. Pepper-era Beatles on "Submarine Song." While the Supernaturals are hardly the most important or most popular band in the britpop movement (they're far from either), A Tune a Day is a marvelous pastiche of songs that proves that they're one of the best, and one of the most overlooked.
Somewhat of a triumph, especially for a British band of the '90s with no hint of Beatles influence or tortured vocals. Instead we are treated to a smorgasbord of nifty melodies, some very good lyrics and Sarah Blackwood's lovely vocals. For the most part, the sound (led by Stephen Hague's glossy production) is layered synths, sometimes Erasuresque (as on "Anywhere"), with programmed beats and, here or there, the odd jangly guitar a la the Sundays ("St. Swithins Day," written by Billy Bragg). The singles "Stars" and "Not So Manic Now" are sumptuous, and even when the guitar delves into grungy terrain on the title track, reminiscent of Garlands-period Cocteau Twins
The Wolfgang Press have had a long and colorful career, one which is nicely summarized in this retrospective compilation. Although the trio has always had something of a reputation as artsy iconoclasts, the simple fact is that the band has never stopped looking back at vintage American soul music; the massed horns and falsetto backing vocals on "Going South," the gospel overtones of "A Girl Like You," and the band's famously execrable cover of "Respect" (recorded with help from Cocteau Twins) are all evidence of a fairly single-minded musical sensibility. What has always made them unique is the skillful complexity of their beat-driven sound and the really pretty awful voice of singer and bandleader Michael Allen. Highlights here include the beautifully funky "Chains" and the just plain beautiful live version of "People Say." Fans will appreciate the remixes, and for everyone else, this is probably all the Wolfgang Press they need.
With few exceptions, the bands that rose from L.A.'s Paisley Underground scene in the '80s had only one real thing in common -- all of them were obsessed with the rock & roll touchstones of the mid- to late '60s, whether it was psychedelia (the Rain Parade), country rock (the Long Ryders), or AM pop (the Bangles). But while most of these bands looked to the sunny side of '60s rock, the Dream Syndicate were the Paisley Underground's juvenile delinquents, smart but cynical and happy to spread bad vibes for the hell of it. Nearly all of the Paisley bands were audibly Californian, but while they hailed from Davis, California, the Dream Syndicate's key influences were significantly from the East Coast: the Velvet Underground (particularly White Light/White Heat), and mid-'60s Bob Dylan (think Highway 61 Revisited). At the core of their sound was the bracing thrust and parry between Karl Precoda's lead guitar, noisy and elemental but inspired in its wanderlust, and the sharp report of Steve Wynn's rhythm guitar, yielding a tougher and more abrasive sound than their peers. Consequently, the Dream Syndicate's debut album, 1982's The Days of Wine and Roses, is arguably the finest LP to come out of the Paisley Underground's salad days, and ultimately atypical of the movement, a blast of beautiful but ominous rock & roll chaos whose speedy guitar-based attack was held in place by the intelligent minimalism of bassist Kendra Smith and drummer Dennis Duck. While the Dream Syndicate's influences were obvious (the initial vinyl pressing of The Days of Wine and Roses included the helpful run-off groove message "Pre-Motorcyle Accident"), the way they manifested themselves were not; the skronky impact of the guitars recalled the Velvets, but Precoda's billows of noise had a personality all their own, and though Wynn's vocal delivery had the bite of both vintage Dylan and Lou Reed, his lyrical voice was his own, offhand but deeply personal at the same time. And Chris D.'s no-frills production captured the Dream Syndicate gloriously, and the greatest pleasure of The Days of Wine and Roses is how well this band plays together, like a miraculously contained explosion that seemed to be going a dozen places at once but confidently and fearlessly rolls forward, and the expressive jams on "Then She Remembers," "Until Lately," and the title cut are outstanding. The Dream Syndicate would be a very different band when they cut Medicine Show two years later, but while they would remain an interesting band to the end, The Days of Wine and Roses captures them at their peak, and it's essential listening for noise guitar fiends and anyone interested in '80s alternative rock.
Raising three children kept Tracey Thorn all but completely away from music for several years. Apart from appearing on Tiefschwarz's "Damage," she was completely absent since 1999, while husband and Everything But the Girl partner Ben Watt continued DJing and operating his Buzzin' Fly label. Thorn even thought it possible at one point that she might not record again, but she has returned with help from several collaborators to make her second solo album, released 25 years after her first. Despite the changes in her life, as well as the varied backgrounds of the producers, Out of the Woods is not the least bit out of character. It is a mellow, melodic album that switches between stripped-down, folk-inspired material, downtempo pop, and up-to-date productions designed for both home and club listening. Thorn has returned as if she never went away, sounding completely at ease without Watt. She's still, for the most part, singing about love; "A-Z," in which a young outsider, fed up with being beaten and teased, leaves her small town for the city, is the only instance where parenthood might have had an effect on her songwriting. The timely production touches are a more than adequate fit for Thorn's subdued but emotive vocals, just as effective as the drum'n'bass elements on EBTG's last two albums. "It's All True," produced by Ewan Pearson with Darshan Jesrani and Klas Lindblad, is the prime highlight -- bounding synth stabs, sweetened strings, percolating percussion accents, and the kind of near-ecstatic vocal turn that only Thorn could deliver -- utilizing a modernized mutation of the post-disco/pre-house boogie era (as exemplified by Jesrani and Morgan Geist's Metro Area). While the beginning-to-end level of quality is expected from Thorn, it's remarkable that the album comes after such an extended absence. And, despite the number of idiosyncratic collaborators -- all of whom established themselves after Temperamental -- it achieves cohesion and sounds exactly like a Tracey Thorn album.
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