Wednesday, 30 May 2012
80 The Best Of A Flock Of Seagulls
Purchased : March 1988
Tracks : I Ran / Space Age Love Song / Telecommunication / The More You Live The More You Love / Nightmares / Wishing / Talking / Transfer Affection / Who's That Girl / D.N.A.
This is the first single artist compilation to feature here and the first album bought on cassette for some time. It was bought for £2.99 from a cassette sale at Save Records on Rochdale Market probably on the way to one of the last few matches of a dire season.
As I don't have any of the four albums that preceded it and supply all 10 tracks ( nor the one issued under the group name in 1989 that only featured Mike Score ) we can for once take a look at the group's career as a whole although the track selection doesn't help in that respect with only track each from their latter two LPs.
The band were never critical favourites ( that's putting it mildly ) and antagonism towards them increased exponentially when they had major US success as part of the so-called Second British Invasion in 1982. For a time that rather endeared them to me but by 1984 I'd lost interest after a string of uninspiring singles and bought this mainly for "Wishing" , by far their biggest UK hit from November 1982.
The band were from Liverpool and were formed by hairdresser Mike Score ( vocals and keyboards ) in 1979 . He was joined by his brother Ali on drums and fellow hairdresser Frank Maudsley on bass. After the original guitarist was replaced by talented youngster Paul Reynolds they attracted the attention of Bill Nelson who produced their first two singles in 1981 and released them on his own Cocteau Records. The band then signed with Jive and though their first release "Modern Love Is Automatic " ( sadly not included here ) flopped the second single "I Ran" just missed out on the UK Top 40 then surpassed all expectations by reaching number 9 in the USA. The UK caught up with the success of "Wishing" a few months later. Mike Score also unveiled what is still, thirty years on, pop's most ludicrous hairstyle. Thereafter their decline was fairly swift in both markets - assisted by their place alongside Squeeze and The Motors as the least photogenic of bands - and Reynolds quit with exhaustion after the third LP. The remaining trio dissolved after one more album in 1986 reuniting only briefly in 2003 at VH1's behest. Mike Score now permanently resident in Florida has released records and toured as A Flock Of Seagulls without any participation from the other members.
It's " I Ran" that kicks off proceedings here, their signature song and one that illustrates their sound pretty well . M Score's synth washes and lyrical preoccupation with sci-fi themes made them obvious if rather late candidates for the futurist tag but Reynolds was a true post-punk guitarist and his prominence on a lot of their material takes it closer to U2 or Siouxsie and The Banshees than their New Romantic fellow travellers. Lyrically "I Ran" seems to be about meeting a girl and then promptly being abducted by aliens. It's dominated by Reynold's riff which no doubt helped sell it to the Americans and the coda is vaguely similar to that in Hong Kong Garden. Though it is a strong pop single the limiting factors in the band's make-up are in place here ; M Score is no great shakes as a singer and his portly balding brother is a pedestrian drummer even when assisted by machines.
It's followed (as it was on their debut LP and their single release schedule) by "Space Age Love Song" which is little more than a Clinton Cards message set to a U2 riff. Replace Score's monotonous drone with a little girl voice and it could be Altered Images. Score adds a litle colour on keyboards towards the end but it's pretty vacuous all the same. Nevertheless it's well-produced and hit the Top 40 on both sides of the pond.
We then have a third track from the debut LP in "Telecommunication" though it was originally their second single for Cocteau in 1981 and has a harsher more metallic sound as you would expect from Bill Nelson's involvement. It's a strangely compelling mix of influences with Score impersonating John Foxx in both his dehumanised vocal and techno-fetishistic lyric, an intro that recalls Hawkwind's Silver Machine, the main part of the song clearly in debt to Joy Division's Isolation and Reynolds providing intermittent melodic relief with his Edge-like guitar breaks.
Then it's forward to 1984 with the uninspiring "The More You Live The More You Love" single, their last and second biggest Top 40 hit in the UK and last US chart entry. It was also where my interest in the band ended. It's just dull; the keyboards are mixed down to make the band sound even more like U2, the melody is bland, the rhythm section plods and the chocolate box sentiments of the lyric are just laughable.
The first side concludes with "Nightmares" a strange choice for second single from their sophomore LP which peaked at 53 in the UK and did nothing (if released) in the U.S. M Score abandons the synth for clipped rhythm guitar and the result is a rather plodding slab of Goth-lite like Bauhaus without the Bowie impersonations but with a cheeky nod to These Boots Are Made For Walking in the first verse . Reynold's guitar interjections threaten to turn into the Banshees' Spellbound while the lyric about childhood trauma might have been influenced by Tears For Fears' recent commercial breakthrough. There are no hooks whatsoever so it's not surprising it fell short.
Side two starts with an extended version of "Wishing (If I Had A Photograph Of You )" which displays all the commercial nous that its follow-up lacked. A stark metallic beat leads straight into the glorious OMD keyboard hook that dominates the song, Reynold's guitar for once playing second fiddle. The lyric about a lovesick man who's somehow neglected to take a photograph of the object of his attentions is nothing special but that hook and the crunching backbeat carry all before it. The extended coda doesn't really add much of interest but allows a wallow in their finest moment.
It's followed by a re-recorded version of their debut single "( It's Not Me ) Talking" about an alien encounter which went on their second album and failed again as a single. That's not too surprising as it's the least melodic track on the album, again recalling John Foxx at his most robotic. It doesn't sound like A Score is on the track with a rigid primitive drum machine hammering away. The chorus is just a drone of the title.
"Transfer Affection" , a minor hit in the summer of 1983, is another outing for the band's more wistful, romantic side. It benefits from more prominent backing vocals from Maudsley and Reynolds to boost the song's melodic impact. A chattering percussion track also helps fill out the sound. They don't quite compensate for the lack of any real chorus but it's pleasant enough.
"Who's That Girl ( She's Got It )" was the surprise of the album for me. I heard it once or twice when released in the autumn of 1985 ( when it peaked at 66 , their last encounter with any chart) but didn't pay it much attention. Two and a half years later it sounded astonishingly fresh and exciting. With Reynolds having quit the band the remaining trio went for a Hi-NRG synth-based sound similar to fellow Liverpudlians Dead Or Alive. This celebration of a hot girl rattles along at pace with a frantic synthetic xylophone riff and girlie backing vocals. Even M Score's vocals sound brighter and more confident. By the time it was released the band had all but dissolved; maybe too soon on this showing.
The album concludes with the one track I'd never heard before, "D.N.A." a track from the debut LP which doubtless owes its inclusion to the fact that it earned them a Grammy for Best Rock Instrumental of 1982. It's mainly Reynolds's show with some melodic riffing over a drum machine and Jean Michel Jarre synth washes. At two and a half minutes it's quite short and you'd have to conclude there wasn't much competition that year.
So there we have it. A Flock Of Seagulls weren't a great band and were perhaps a bit lucky to achieve the success they had but they weren't as untalented as critical opinion might suggest. That doomed kid on the couch in Pulp Fiction could have been called something worse.
Friday, 25 May 2012
79 Man Of Colours - Icehouse
Purchased : March 1988
Tracks : Crazy / Electric Blue / Nothing Too Serious / Man Of Colours / Heartbreak Kid / The Kingdom / My Obsession / Girl In The Moon / Anybody's War / Sunrise
This was purchased in Manchester as soon as it came out.
"Man Of Colours" was Icehouse's fifth album and for me should have been titled "Pacific Crossing". It's one of those LPs every music fan dreads, when an adored band jettison everything you love most about them and embrace a new style, to which you can only respond with distaste, in pursuit of a broader audience ( in most cases, as here, the Yanks). For the purposes of this blog I'll be listening to the whole album for only the second time since I bought it so it's probably the right time for a re-appraisal.
The sound of the album is due to the US breakthrough of their fourth album "Measure For Measure" ( which we'll cover in due course ) and its lead-off single "No Promises". The latter only made number 72 in the UK and the LP didn't chart at all so it's not too surprising that they changed tack and went for the bigger market.
In hindsight the single "Crazy" ( which gave them a second Top 40 hit here on re-release in February 1988 ) gives a good warning about what to expect, with its echoey power chords , cavernous drums and screechy keyboards, the MTV power ballad par excellence. It's not a bad song with a tuneful chorus and Iva Davies chucking in the usual Ferry-isms , it just lacks that subtle, slightly sinister edge that they had assimilated from their European influences. In the video Davies ( now sporting a hideous shoulder-length mullet ) enters the room of a girl, sees posters of the band in previous guise and retreats. What message was he sending out to his old fans there ?
"Electric Blue" was another big hit in the U.S. ( and a near-miss over here). It was co-written by and features John Oates ( the short one with the 'tache ) and is a shamelessly commercial piece of AOR pop rock that could easily have found its way to Belinda Carlisle or Cher. Lyrically it's a straightforward tale of obsession ( with the odd phrase recycled from personal favourite "Goodnight Mr Matthews" from the second LP ) . I didn't like it much at the time but hearing it now it's actually aged quite well with a very strong melodic structure.
"Nothing Too Serious" ,an account of the morning after a wild night, is a fast-paced rocker halfway between Huey Lewis and the News' The Heart Of Rock And Roll and Glenn Frey's The Heat Is On . Davies gives it his best shot at a rock growl ( only half convincing ) and the blaring Fairlight horns and obligatory sax solo give it some gusto but it's just not my cup of tea.
The title track does come across as something of a sop to older fans being a slow ballad about an ageing artist with some delicate oboe and synth although it's the hazy synthscape of Drive or Take My Breath Away rather than say Ultravox or Simple Minds. It's a relief from the rock stomp but a rather soporific song.
The side closes with the hollow epic "Heartbreak Kid " with its hackneyed third person lyric about a gunman brought down by a woman. With the heavy drumming and ponderous piano chords it sounds like a Phil Collins album track and Rob Kretschmer's tedious guitar solo doesn't save it.
Side Two begins with the likeable "The Kingdom" about a woman relying on her inner world like a less sinister Angie Baby. Davies returns to his normal plaintive tones and the chorus is tuneful. However the similarity of the backing track to Bryan Ferry's Don't Stop The Dance is very obvious.
"My Obsession" is the sort of straightforward pop rock number that could have soundtracked a Brat Pack movie from the likes of John Parr and John Waite. It's perfectly listenable with some nice keyboard work but it's so uninspired lyrically it could almost be a Diane Warren song.
"Girl In The Moon" is just horrible, a drum heavy piece of bombast with no real tune and some of the worst lyrics of Davies's career - " Put on my Cadillac boots and my magazine jeans but the colours don't rhyme. " The nagging guitar is vaguely reminiscent of The Cure's similarly enervating One Hundred Years.
"Anybody's War " is another third person narrative this time about a feuding couple that Davies clumsily tries to turn into an Everyman anthem - "People just like you and I ". It starts promisingly enough with a Moroder-ish synth pulse and a quiet verse but then all the ugly bombast of drums and slashing guitar come in to amplify the shouted chorus and it becomes an earache.
"Sunrise" does boast an interesting lyric about the bombing of Hiroshima , some nice Japanese keyboard motifs and a virtually empty middle eight ( possibly copped from Kate Bush's Breathing ). On the downside it's got yet another big bawled chorus which ruins all the atmosphere built up in the verses.
As I suspected would happen this LP doesn't sound as bad to me now as it did then. The softening of my anti-American bias would ironically begin with a single released just a couple of months after this but that's for future posts. This did become Icehouse's biggest seller but it was a short-lived triumph with grunge just around the corner and their next LP ( and their few subsequent efforts) failed to break out of Australia. That they remain uninvestigated by me shows how the disappointment has lingered.
Thursday, 17 May 2012
78 Viva Hate - Morrissey
Purchased : March 1988
Tracks : Alsatian Cousin / Little Man What Now / Everyday Is Like Sunday / Bengali In Platforms / Angel, Angel, We Go Down Together / Late Night Maudlin Street / Suedehead / Break Up The Family / The Ordinary Boys / I Don't Mind If You Forget Me / Dial-A-Cliche / Margaret On The Guillotine
This was bought in either Ashton-under-Lyne or Manchester as soon as it came out.
I can't remember any other album generating such a mix of anticipation and apprehension as this one. Could Morrissey shrug off the split with Johnny Marr and still produce vital work or would he become another Roger Waters , a becalmed, increasingly irrelevant ranter without his former bandmates ? To be honest the jury's still out on that question so that , despite this coming out nearly a quarter of a century ago , it still seems in an odd sense a contemporary purchase.
The immediate question that concerned me at the time was whether it would be better than "Strangeways Here We Come" and so provide some sort of vindication for the split. I'll answer that at the end when I've listened to it through again which I suppose already gives away that it's a close call.
Morrissey didn't waste much time in returning to the studio after The Smiths split, this coming out within six months of the announcement. Perhaps EMI , fearful for their investment in a now-defunct group who never recorded a note for them, were pushing him hard though they indulged his wish to revive the old HMV imprint. The services of Stephen Street were retained to produce the album but he was also now credited as a co-writer on all tracks. Replacing Marr as guitarist was Durutti Column's Vini Reilly, a much-respected Mancunian musician but a complete stranger to any chart. Street brought in versatile drummer Andrew Paresi ( a Londoner ) and played the bass himself. Apart from half a dozen string players used on a couple of tracks that was the complete cast so that might partly account for the quick turnaround.
Morrissey delays his entrance for nearly a minute on the opening track, "Alsatian Cousin" while Reilly treats us to some Reeves Gabrel - style guitar abuse. Reilly later complained that Street didn't give him enough room on the LP but he's certainly given a generous proportion of this track, his squalling being used in place of a chorus. Lyrically we're back in "Handsome Devil" territory with Morrissey interrogating someone about their affair with a teacher and their antics in a tent and over a desk. Like the earlier song it's delivered in a condemnatory monotone. It's crudely effective in establishing that this isn't a Smiths album but it's let down by a very leaden bassline and clodhopping drums. The rhythm section is a recurring weakness on the LP and it's no coincidence that Mozza temporarily reunited with Rourke and Joyce ( and Craig Gannon for that matter ) on his next recordings.
"Little Man What Now" raises alarm bells with its brevity and a very uncomfortable marriage between Reilly's acoustic intricacies and Paresi's brutalist drum track ( sounding very like the one used on the Bee Gees recent chart topper You Win Again. The lyric raises a wry smile with its tale of a sixties child star appearing on a daytime quiz show now that has-beens have never been more in demand as cannon fodder for I'm A Celebrity... and the like. Otherwise the track is of little interest.
"Every Day Is Like Sunday" is deservedly one of solo Morrissey's best-loved songs. It became the second and last single from the LP in June reaching the Top 10 and winning some support from daytime jocks who'd previously shunned him. With a strong melody ( and there aren't many of those knocking about here ) and a gorgeous sweeping string arrangement behind him Mozza laments the decline of an old fashioned seaside resort ( no specifics but my money would be on New Brighton ) with genuine sympathy for those marooned there. There's a little nod to John Betjeman - "come, come, nuclear bomb" - and the video featured Cheryl Murray ( Suzie Birchill from Coronation Street ). What more could you want ?
Well a bit of racial controversy would do nicely and so along comes "Bengali In Platforms" wherein Morrissey advises a young Asian boy to give up attempting to integrate. This song was originally demo'ed by the short-lived Smiths mk 2 the previous summer and is one of the most Smiths-like tracks here with its melodic guitar hook. From the gentle arrangement and Morrissey's softest tones on the vocal it's plainly meant to be sympathetic but the p.c. brigade were never going to be happy with the line "Life is hard enouh when you belong here".
On "Angel Angel We Go Down Together" he invokes the spirit of Colin Blunstone by singing directly over a string arrangement ( with echoes of Kate Bush's Cloudbusting in there). Morrissey urges the object of his devotion not to commit suicide after being stripped bare by freeloaders because he is still there for him/her. It's quite impressive but ends after 1 minute and 40 seconds and the spectre of Waters begins to rise.
But maybe it was only to make room for the full seven and a half minutes of " Late Night, Maudlin Street " with Mozza on the point of leaving his childhood home and remembering all the unhappy times he had there. You imagine that if this song had been presented to The Smiths JM would have told him to rein it in a bit but here he wails ( in and out of key ) on and on, verging on self-parody - "Here I am ,the ugliest man". There's no relief in the music either with no tune to speak of and another crushingly unsuitable electronic drum track . Street provides some nice piano fills halfway through but they're not nearly enough to stop the track being terminally boring.
It's thus a great relief to tip the record over to "Suedehead" the bouncy first single which introduced him to the Top 5 in a chart otherwise clogged up with anonymous dance acts and teen pop muppets - many of them tied to the terrible trio of Stock, Aitken and Waterman. It's a strong safe debut not wandering too far away from the Smiths sound but containing enough new features such as the bar-room piano keeping pace with the guitar and the string synth punctuations. Lyrically it seems to be Morissey politely asking one of his fans to back off a bit ( perhaps the rather embarrassing Shaun Duggan who'd found his way into the South Bank Show programme to gush about the band ) .
After that's faded out it has to be said the rest of the second side is pretty forgettable bearing all the signs of a rush-job. "Break Up The Family " is notable for the hints of a more optimistic frame of mind in the lyric "-I'm so glad to be older " but the music is very uninspiring being built around a dated drum machine pattern.
Morrissey should have known that "ordinary " is the last word you put in the title of a pop song. "The Ordinary Boys" is just that despite its lyric championing a figure who stood above the hoi-polloi. It lumbers along frequently threatening to turn into That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore " until apparently realising that the key ingredient is missing.
Who just happens to be the subject of the next song. "I Don't Mind If You Forget Me" is surprisingly unambiguous in its lyric but the arrows fall well short with "Rejection is one thing but rejection by a fool is cruel" the most cutting line. The music's even less inspired just another thudding, unsympathetic contribution from Paresi, a bit of guitar abuse from Reilly and Morrissey trying out a different unmemorable melody on each line. The whole song is irredeemably half-baked ; I can't see Marr losing any sleep over it.
"Dial-A-Cliche" again has similarities to "That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore" in the acoustic guitar line and one or two nicely phrased lines but otherwise sounds even more incomplete than the one before, a melange of unrelated lyrical snippets and no sense of where it wants to go musically. Reilly blows some French horn over it to no useful effect.
Which leaves us with the pseudo-controversial "Margaret On The Guillotine" which was surely recorded with the express purpose of getting local rent-a-gob MP Geoffrey Dickens to give the album some free publicity. Mission accomplished there of course but there's liitle song, just a two verse acoustic poem that could have come straight from The Final Cut ending with the line "When will you die ?". Now I hate the bitch as much as anyone and mean to party when she finally does shuffle off but you expect a bit more from this man. He buggers off halfway through leaving Reilly to talk to himself for a couple of minutes before the blade falls and the album is over.
EMI's marketing muscle took this straight in at number one but it didn't hang around long and exited the Top 40 after 5 weeks failing to make it back even when "Everyday Is Like Sunday" was in the Top 10. Reviewed well at the time I don't think anyone will claim it's a classic now. Certainly Morrissey didn't seem keen to repeat the experience releasing only singles for the next three years ( eventually collected together as the " Bona Drag" album ) and seeing all career momentum drain away as a result. We'll return to that many posts in the future.
For now, was it better than "Strangeways". Well there are two excellent singles here and you can't say that about the trio from the group's last effort. However at no point does that album sound as uninspired as the second side here once "Suedehead" has gone by. So let's call it a draw.
Saturday, 5 May 2012
77 This Is The Sea - The Waterboys
Purchased : February 1988
Tracks : Don't Bang The Drum / The Whole Of The Moon / Spirit / The Pan Within / Medicine Bow / Old England / Be My Enemy / Trumpets / This Is The Sea
This was , I think, the last album bought in Leeds. It marks the beginning of a pattern only broken this year. That was the tendency to hoard annual leave until the end of the financial year ( April - March ) and then have 10 days or so to use up in the snowy wastes of February and March. At first this was football-related to cover re-arranged away fixtures, replays etc but later became a more general Micawber-ish hope that something would turn up i.e. someone might want to spend some of their precious leisure time with me.
That hope was almost always disappointed but in February 1988 I did manage to arrange a rendez-vous with my old housemate Pete who was still living in Leeds. Pete had only got to Leeds University through clearing and always struggled on his course and I can't remember whether he was still trying to get his degree or whether he was now working. In any case he was now house-sharing with a couple of other guys I didn't know and suggested we meet up one afternoon. All I can really remember is that we watched The Roxy ( remember that ? ) , played a bit of snooker and that I ended up buying a cue from him which I've still got though I don't think it's been used this millennium. We haven't been in touch since.
Anyhow back to Mike Scott and his cohorts. I'd been moderately interested in them since their 1983 debut single "A Girl Called Johnny" which I first heard on Radio Luxembourg's rather arbitrarily compiled "Futurist Chart " ( Phil Everley was in there but not Talk Talk ) but really came on board with "The Whole Of The Moon" in November 1985, the only single released from this LP and their commercial breakthrough. Annie Nightingale had whetted ny appetite since then by playing odd tracks on her Sunday night request show - this was before she became the Betty Turpin of the rave scene - so this was pretty much the top of my "wants" list.
This was the third Waterboys album and the first to chart and yield a hit single. At the time the band was essentially a trio of Scott, Anthony Thistlethwaite and Karl Wallinger with a slew of guests. Drummer Kevin Wilkinson had left to join China Crisis but can be heard on some tracks as can Roddy Lorimer on trumpet, another link with the previous post.
Many predicted that the band would join U2, Simple Minds and Big Country as the next Celtic stadium act but that was stymied by Scott's infamous refusal to do Top Of The Pops when "The Whole Of The Moon" was climbing the charts, a career-defining decision.
It begins with the lengthy "Don't Bang The Drum", Wallinger's only co-writing credit on the LP. It's a song typical of both writers with its call to activism underlaid by spiritual concerns - "What show of soul are we gonna get from you ?" - and the expectation of disappointment - "If I know you you'll bang the drum like monkeys do". Wallinger's big piano chords and Lorimer's trumpet herald the song proper for a minute and a half before the big drums and chainsaw guitar announce that this is a rock record. Scott's earnest vocals ( too much for some ) and Thistlethwaite's full throttle sax playing hammer the message home with a minimum of delicacy.
Then we have "The Whole Of The Moon" itself. Despite Scott's self-sabotage it reached number 26 on its original run then got to number 3 on reissue in 1991 after its reputation steadily built in the intervening years. Turning the execrable Wind Beneath My Wings on its head it's a uniquely self-effacing song with Scott acknowledging that another (Scott has subsequently backtracked on his contemporary assertion that the subject was Prince after his bizarre behaviour at the British Rock And Pop Awards and eccentric Around The World In A Day album ) has surpassed all his achievements but there's a catch in the chorus. The subject has crashed and burned so the song is both an admiring tribute and lament. The key musical ingredients are again Wallinger's tumbling piano and Lorimer's antiphonal trumpets which grow in prominence as the song progresses. Despite another inimitable half-shouted vocal from Scott it's attracted a fair few covers and deservedly so.
There's a pause for breath with the short , uncluttered "Spirit" where Scott affirms the superiority of the spiritual life over Wallinger's restless piano and a more muted contribution from Lorimer.
Then it's back to the barnstorming with "The Pan Within" . Its exhortation to let loose the Dionysian spirit would make it a perfect choice to soundtrack the film of The Secret History ( if it ever gets made ) though there's no hint here that it would turn destructive. A six-plus minute epic it rumbles along on a solid backbeat with new boy Steve Wickham adding all the musical colour with his fiddle. There's also a brief Peter Hook-esque bass solo but as there are four bass players credited on the LP I've no idea who 's playing it. My only complaint about the song is that there's no climax; it just ends at a seemingly random point.
Side Two begins with the uptempo "Medicine Bow" , a Thistlethwaite co-write and a short-ish slice of driving rock (with some discreet synth work ) that owes a lot to Echo And the Bunnymen. It's a statement of Scott's desire to cast off all the trappings of his old life and start anew although he was apparently ignorant that there was a real place of that name in Wyoming. There's not that much of a tune in amongst the churning guitar and drum racket so its relative brevity is a plus.
"Old England" has Scott trying on Paul Weller's clothes with a critique of the evils of Thatcherism ( from which the other countries in the UK were hardly immune ) using James Joyce's "Old England is dying" as the pay-off line and stealing another couplet from WB Yeats. I don't find it very convincing ; the lyrics offer no fresh insights and musically it's boring , five and a half minutes of an annoyingly repetitive piano riff , military drums and Thistlethwaite trying to add some colour with freeform squawking.
"Be My Enemy" begins with a strange staccato synth passage but turns into a rollicking rockabilly number reminiscent of Shakespeare's Sister. The uncharacteristically violent lyrics with hints of Southern Gothic -" I feel like I've been sleeping in a cellarful of snakes" - suggest Nick Cave as an additional influence. Apart from a serious lack of melody it's well executed.
"Trumpets", the first song to be written , rescues the second side. A refreshingly direct love song featuring only the core trio ( and a classic Wallinger piano riff ) , it exemplifies the mark 1 version of the band at their best with its compelling poetic beauty. Despite the present tense of the lyric ( including a little steal from I'm Only Sleeping ) there's a choking poignancy to the song - " your love is like high summer " - acknowledging that such delights are rare and transitory.
"This Is The Sea " is another long song ( though considerably shortened from Scott's original 20 verse epic ) that attempts to tie up the various threads on the LP with references back to the preceding songs. The over-riding theme is cutting loose from the past and seems self-addressed ( though that view may be influenced by knowledge of what came next ) . The dense acoustic guitar work is worthy of Johnny Marr and the song builds nicely but it's comparatively bland and sails a little too close to Van Morrison for me.
So it wasn't quite the classic I was hoping for and I don't rate it the best of their LPs by some margin. It was however a significant milestone in their career. Wallinger quit the band before the end of the promotional tour and that spelled the end of their "Big Music" phase; when they re-emerged at the end of 1988 both music and image had changed radically ( as we shall see) .
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