RECORD REVIEWS MUSIC
I Pavement: Wasting (By Musket And Sextant) (Big Cat) Kids - wanna know why all you read about Pavement is what goofy artistes they are? lt‘s because when you deconstruct something like Westing. a compilation of pre- Slanted And Enchanted unlistenables. there's nowt else at the core but wilful eccentricity. So what‘s so ﬂamin' terriﬁc about a Pavement album? I mean. what kind of fevered imagination draws up a track listing that runs ‘Recorder Grot'. ‘lnternal K-Dart'. ‘Heckler Spray'. ‘Krell Vid-User‘? Coherence does break through intennittently. though. ‘Box Elder'. ‘Summer Babe' and ‘My First Mine‘ (Mark Smith written all over it) follow some teasing path of structure. and ‘Debris Slide‘ especially points to the Slanted. . . days when they would succeed in proving their chaos theory. (Fiona Shepherd) I Revolver: Cold Water Flat (Hut) Revolver love Great Pop. This we know because we read their interviews. Great Pop doesn‘t love Revolver. This we know becaUse we listen to their records. Great Pop stays in the oven till it‘s fully cooked. So it follows that Revolver’s brushes with Great Pop are rare. One of their past claims rings true. though — the one about not being a part of the wombadelic shoegazing coterie. Revolver don't hide their vocals and melodies behind layers of effects- pedal chicanery. Perhaps they should reconsider. Mat Flint's whiney voice and apparent inability to write anything remotely memorable are the guiding handicaps that make Cold Water Flat such a dull listen. The review copy came as a white label with no track listing to separate the chaff from the chaff. (Fiona Shepherd)
I Fellx:#1 (Deconstruction) Well. it‘s no more formulated albums for the Deconstruction crew. ‘We‘ll give you six slices of instrumentality for a ﬁver.‘ they tell the rock establishment. ‘thus enabling dance artists to release material whilst it is relevant musically.‘ Mode music. to discard after six months with yesterday’s Vivienne Westwood. The word cynical springs to mind. Yet why not milk it when you‘ve got as big a catﬁsh as Felix? ‘Don‘t You Want Me’. ‘lt Will Make Me Crazy' and ‘Stars‘ are glorious commercial raviality personiﬁed. Still. it is obvious that Felix is
but a kitten; ‘Fastslow' is straight out of the Baby Ford book of late 80s Ph 1. while ‘Fools In Love' is a mere whisker away from Kevin Saunderson's halcyon ‘Big Fun' days. This is Dub-bud dance. symbolically full of grandiose pianos and hollering lovers from S&M tunnels of the abyss. Ultimately disposable? It is. Cynical? Deﬁnitely. Surreal? Frozen red ﬁsh. Worth a ﬁver? O aye.
7 (Philip Dorward)
I Monie Love: In A Word 0r 2 (Cooltempo) it Down To Earth was shy and English. In A Word ()r 2 is bold and American. The ﬁrst three tracks were co- written and produced by Prince and are by far the album’s best offerings; ‘Full Term Love‘ and ‘Born 2 B.R.E.E.D' are jaunty danehall offerings that do the pop do. while ‘In A Word Or 2' is a smoove. cool love rap between Prince and Monie that serves to melt hearts and bedsheets.
The next two-thirds
is dedicated to mid- Atlantic R&B hip-hop and Marley Marl‘s fascination with heavy calibre beats and inspired samples. Its only downfall is that it sometimes fails to enforce her as what she is. a lyrical grenade. In the US. this album will confirm Monie‘s status as one of
‘ the best rap artists in the
world. In Britain (outside Greater London). it will be viewed with blinkers unless overhauled to suit the ﬁckle club appetite.
j which is a shame because it is a hugely enjoyable 55
: minutes. (Philip Dorward)
I King Missile: Happy Hour (Atlantic) My introduction to King Missile was the stupid- clever mini-epiphanies of last year's The Way To Salvation. and Happy Hour is composed of the same ingredients. reshufﬂed and reﬁned. They‘re a ﬂexible band. who can turn their hands to Jane‘s Addiction soundalikes and' REM pisstakes. but it's the absurdist monologues of John S. Hall that binds their stuff together. lf the thought of listening to a kid with a whiney voice who insists on reading his stoned-sounding thoughts from a notebook turns you off. you won‘t like this. But John S. Hall has a ﬁne sense of nonsense.
away. As does the fact that much of this record sounds like it was played on Teenage Fanclub‘s own instruments after a cursory couple of songwriting lessons from Norman Blake. Hairy Banjo is a ragbag of stuff that the Fannies. even in their most egomaniacal lapse of judgement. wouldn’t let out of the practice room. Weak voices. weak
‘ writing — methinks
Boyfriend are tugging their own hairy banjos a little too hard. (Alastair Mabbott)
I Bailter Space: Robot World (Flying iiun) ln an earlier incarnation. The Gordons. at the start of the 80s. the chaps of Bailter Space were touring New Zealand with a PA bigger than Motorhead‘s and introducing their audiences to gorgeous dissonances and hypnotic riffs years before the rest of the world caught on. On Robot World. the first half of it at least. they seem to have discovered the joys of playing it safe. While Bailter Space still
' carry a powerful sound.
the gap between them and the rest of the pack seems to have narrowed considerably. Things get better. more mysterious. on the second half. ‘()re‘ and ‘Get Lost' are
l impressively storming, I and some well-integrated
samples are used on the disorientating ‘Eip‘. which brings to mind
5 some of Wire's
experiments. It's good. but these are people who should be blowing minds for a living. (Alastair Mabbott)
I Bubonique: Nenty
Golden Showers (Kitchenware) It's
designed to daunt. The LED CD readout says one track. 56 minutes long.
: Twenty Golden Showers is
and uses it to full effect in
tributes to Martin
Scorsese. Philip Glass and '
his own detachable penis. Enjoy. (Alastair Mabbott) I Boyfriend: iiairy Banlo (August) Boyfriend are
mates of Teenage Fanclub a
(if they weren‘t. would this Creation offshoot give them the time of day?). but even if you didn‘t know that. the title of the opening track. ‘l-ley Big Star‘. gives the game
one big bladderful. a scabrous balls-up and sleazy send-up of several beyond-reproach icons — U2. Ice-T. Guns N’ Roses and that bunch of palsied miscreants. Fatima Mansions. Even the presence of ace funny guy and top shag Sean Hughes lightens not the proceedings. Beelezebub's tekkno runs riot. hellbound sounds purely designed to irritate belch forth. and titles like ‘My Baby Gave Me Rabies'. ‘Theme From Chicken Arse‘ and ‘Anytime Any Place It's Okay To Bubo With Shak Parouk‘ give me the dry boak. Cathal Coughlan - whom sources close to Bubonique allege is severely disturbed — has a name which sounds like a throatful of phlegm being cleared. Twenty Golden Showers is piss- poor and nigh unlistenable. Methinks. perhaps. that that‘s the point. (Craig McLean)
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