God, he sounds like Peter Cook on here. Especially the bit when he “falls for Rebecca Trollope, corr, disgahstin”.
God, he sounds like Peter Cook on here. Especially the bit when he “falls for Rebecca Trollope, corr, disgahstin”.
This album may slip through the net for many, it nearly slipped through Incendiary’s to be honest. Which is a shame because it’s a corker. Floor Show is very downbeat and monochromatic in tone, very reminiscent of Suicide, or Ultra Vivid Scene, or even the Psychedelic Furs; but it’s witty charming and quite perverse. The first track, Francesca’s Party is doomy low-fi of the highest quality. Lots of droning guitars and mumbling vocals high in the mix give an early eighties feel, as do the jealousy-ridden lyrics. It’s them (the beautiful people) against us (the outsiders) again… A lovely echoey ending and its on to the spoken tale of a man called Cocaine Man. God, he sounds like Peter Cook on here. Especially the bit when he "falls for Rebecca Trollope, corr, disgahstin". Again, it’s very simple with a minimum of musical hoops through which to jump. Lisa Said could be (at a push) the Sisters of Mercy, it’s a great doomy, operatic Gothic mope-along. The keyboard sound is a great slab of concrete enveloping the rest of the song. Fabulous.
Waiting for Surprises is a boy/girl mope with an oddly affecting downbeat chorus. Young Gods is another introspective number, slow and gliding along aimlessly like a ghost in an empty factory. It’s very maudlin, but oddly affecting what with the piano and the burnt out synth. It has a melancholy similar to Bowie’s Sons of the Silent Age. Sister Sister promises more upbeat times are ahead until junkies are mentioned. Then we have a tale of woe on our hands, albeit one with a wry smile and some energy. The music is more melodic and understated than the last few tracks; its very Velvetsy, especially with the tom-tom beat in tow. Floor Show is a dirge in all the best senses of the word. The music is a dumbshow played slowly out in front of us, a memento mori in a velvet three piece. It’s soporific to the point of inertia and fabulous to boot.
Cages is more alert, but still akin to the Stranglers playing an old folks home after being dosed with tamazipan. I find it very funny and I don’t really know why. Great angry guitar licks try to inject some life into this sloth of a track but, you know they aren’t going to win. Dirty Water is similarly slothful, Dury is obviously sitting by the Thames, contemplating life and death (slowly, no doubt). It’s fabulous, like a slowed-down Beatles track.
So there you have it. Great stuff and not to be missed. I’d say this LP is the ideal soundtrack to a slacker’s paradise.