Well, it can't entiterely escape sounding like a lot of bands coming out of Brooklyn, so you get that "trademark" adeptness at mixing up 17 Seconds Cure with Suicide and the Dinger beat.
Those in need of a cuppa and a biscuit had better get one now, as there's more monochrome psycho drama in store with French Playground, a track which charts the Algerian revolt of the 1950s.
It’s got something of that lackadaisical attitude that The Saints, Royal Trux or the Teardrop Explodes used to spread around, and should be the soundtrack to lots of bedsit rave ups.
Given the way Josephine Foster’s I’m A Dreamer is produced and presented, it should come as no surprise as the whole enterprise feels totally out of step with the present time.
I’d say this is an essential LP, really worth listening in to. It’s enervating, tough, uncompromising and something that is at times, pretty bloody far out whilst being incredibly accessible.
Broderick’s work always reminds me of things that Rodelius does; especially when you take into account those very minimal, spacious, but melancholic piano runs...
So, mental baggage left firmly in the rubbish dump, we can say this record is as diverse and refreshing as can be.
So Relent is not really something that will grab you, but then, I suppose its main strengths are its patience, its disarming simplicity and its clever sense of balance.
It’s so sad they split, they were so much fun. But we have this, and in time they’ll be seen as a special band, no doubt about that.
Deutschland, Deutsche –California, and now, Deutsche-Ormskirk. And nowt wrong with that!
What does mark the album out is a demented energy, it often feels like a twisted soundtrack to an old black and white slapstick short.
Dark thought this record is, it’s not depressing, and it doesn't bring you down. Cathartic maybe, listenable definitely. Loveable? Very probably.
The cover is a classic too; the street battle scene is a statement of intent in a new setting, a case, maybe of saying, no, this is how you do it, you fey fucks…
Tracks like Mind & Matter’s I’m Under Your Spell, or is the sound of high living or people pretending they are living high, aspirants’ music. That is probably why this Fall/Bunnymen/Smiths fan hated it at the time; I couldn’t see past the shoulder pads to examine what made it tick.
So, a deliberate and quiet entrenchment of some emotional inner space; and whether you think entering into this foggy world of Sawyer’s thoughts and feelings is worth it is, (as Peter Cook once said), “entirely a matter for you”.
So there you have it, another fab slab of High Magicke. I’m not sure this band knows how to make a bad record.
That’s not to say that this LP isn’t enjoyable, it IS; it’s great, a blast even, and at times it kicks off into another dimension, through sheer force of will and the drill-like playing of the band.
There are some tremendously dark, almost Nordic ballads here; such as My Name Is Rune or Nova 88, both getting on a bit of a Marble Index trip...
And in any case, how can you get all hot under the collar about an artist who seems to be sporting a necklace of shrimps on the cover?
It’s a suggestive name, Chrome Hoof; redolent of the polish of sleek modern urban living, of the leather running sooth in the passenger seat and, well, being trodden on by a beast of the field.