Tag: Best albums

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Best albums of 1990: #4 The Sisters of Mercy “Vision thing”

As I’ve written on these pages before, it was my friend Tim that introduced me to the iconic gothic rock band, Sisters of Mercy, way back in high school. To start with, I would hear the group playing in his parents’ borrowed car whenever we went out somewhere. Then, it was the mixed tapes or the second side of a blank cassette, on the first side of which I asked him to record some album or other. A Sisters of Mercy song would always appear. Finally, I bit and asked him to record me one of their albums and this is how I first came to
“Vision thing”.

This was the Sisters’ third and final proper studio album that they ever released, even though the group has continued to ‘exist’ in some form or other ever since Andrew Eldritch put them together back in 1980. We saw a couple of singles released in the first few years after the 90s began but even those dried up. Eldritch has continued to write, though, and these songs have appeared on set lists as the group continues to tour, right up to today, but nothing has been recorded and released officially to the public. There have been rumblings over the years of possible releases and Eldritch himself had posited half-jokingly that it might take a Donald Trump presidential win for them to get motivated but that was for the first time around and of course, Trump won twice and still no new music.

Interestingly, I’ve heard that “Vision thing” was inspired by the Sisters’ frontman’s thoughts surrounding George Bush (Sr), another polarizing republican American president, and his policies, which also had a worldwide impact. The album is eight epic songs*, all requisitely dark and foreboding, and that in spite of Eldritch, only furthered the group’s place in the pantheon of goth. It followed the tradition of the previous two albums, of being recorded by a completely different set of musicians that had worked on the previous. Joining Eldritch and his trusty drum machine, Doktor Avalanche, for “Vision thing” was Sigue Sigue Sputnik’s Tony James on bass, a young Andreas Bruhn on guitar, and Scottish vocalist Maggie Reilly provided backing vocals to many of the tracks.

Apparently, it was a difficult album to make, many different versions of each of these tracks were recorded, and the personnel themselves have publicly wondered how much of their contributions made the final cuts. What we know for sure is that the final versions settled upon were actually ones that came out of the early sessions, being rawer and more immediate.

“Vision thing” did reasonably well on the charts and have hit sales certifications in both Germany and the group’s native UK. It is my favourite complete album of their three but this is likely because it is the one with which I am the most familiar.

I have spent lots of quality time and have loved all eight tracks on “Vision thing” so it was hard to pick the requisite three for you but I have endeavoured. I recommend you wait until dark, light a solitary candle, and pour some red wine before pressing play.

“Vision thing“: The opening track title (which was also the namesake for the album) was taken from a phrase George Bush (the sr.) used during his 1988 presidential campaign. And this isn’t the only reference to things said by the former American president or thoughts on his policies. “Vision thing” is the song that most overtly takes to task the subject that many have said inspired the record. “It’s a small world and it smells bad. I’d buy another if I had back what I paid, for another motherf*cker in a motorcade.” Andrew Eldritch pulls no punches. It’s raw and aggressive and angry. The guitars chug along and Doktor Avalanche does its thing, sure, but the frontman is what makes this song. His vocals snarl and roar, takes layered upon each other, as if there were an army of him, ready to take on the world and take down everything that angers him about it. It’s a great song to bash about and stomp your feet too. A real (goth) punk song.

“Ribbons”: I’m pretty sure this wasn’t the first song I’d ever heard by The Sisters but it was definitely the song that sold me and got me into them. I’ve told the story before but it begs repetition. I distinctly remember it being on in my friend Tim’s car stereo when he was driving a bunch of us home after a high school theatre event. I was in the back seat and Tim took one of our school’s infamously high speed bumps too quickly and much of the contents of his open coke can was transferred to yours truly just as Eldritch was shrieking “Incoming!” The carload of us found the coincidence way too funny so we repeated the song a few times while he dropped the lot of us at our homes and in those repetitions, I gained an appreciation for the uncompromising chainsaw guitars, the equally foreboding drum machine, and Eldritch’s evocative lyrical imagery and singular delivery. “Her lovers queued up in the hallway, I heard them scratching at the door, I tried to tell her about Marx and Engels, God and Angels, I don’t really know what for.” Is it about a one night stand, sex with a bewitching prostitute, or is it an anti-war, anti-nukes song? Could be be all three and probably is. “Incoming!”

“More”: I fully admit that I am going to plagiarize myself a bit here since I’ve already written about this last song on these pages a few times already. It was the first single to be released off the album and features heavy handed piano, synth washes, muscular, machine gun guitars, and the backing vocals of Scottish singer Maggie Reilly. The version on the album is epic long at just over eight minutes, making full use of its Jim Steinman production. It is big and menacing, riffing on the love as a drug theme, dangerous and painful and wouldn’t be traded for all the world. “All I want, all I need, all the time is more of your sweet love. Too much just ain’t enough. I never needed a fix like this before.” It is equally perfect for blasting while driving down dark country roads or dancing to in packed and sweaty clubs while the strobes make you question your reality. I have memories of doing both, many times over the years.

*It was of course, coproduced by Jim Steinman, famous for his work with Bonnie Tyler and Meatloaf on “Bat out of hell”.

We’ll be back in a handful of days with album #3. In the meantime, here are the previous albums in this list:

10. The Northern Pikes “Snow in June”
9. Jane’s Addiction “Ritual de lo habitual”
8. Sinéad O’Connor “I do not want what I haven’t got”
7. The La’s “The La’s”
6. Concrete Blonde “Bloodletting”
5. Spirit of the West “Save this house”

You can also check out my Best Albums page here if you’re interested in my other favourite albums lists.

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Albums

Best albums of 1990: #5 Spirit of the West “Save this house”

Spirit of the West are one of my favourite ever bands.

And I know what you’re thinking: This guy’s probably got thousands of favourite bands. Which is probably true. However, SOTW have been with me for a very long time, almost 35 years. A Canadian band with a unique sound that I got into at a time when most Canadian bands were trying to sound American. For a while, they were the band I had seen the most times in concert. In fact, my wife and I officially ‘got together’ after seeing the band at our university pub. I could go on and on but I’ve already tread this ground on these pages a number of times, most notably when I counted down my top five favourite tunes by the group back in 2017.

Having said all this, “Save this house” isn’t my favourite Spirit of the West album. Yes, it’s got some of their classic tracks (see below) and it’s got a great and unique folk rock sound but they were still finding their true footing here, being one album removed from being a fully formed band. Multi-instrumentalist and backing vocalist Linda McRae had just joined the trio of Hugh McMillan, Geoffrey Kelly, and John Mann and their drummer Vince Ditrich had yet to join. The songwriting is very strong here for the most part but as a whole, the album is likely a couple tracks too long.

Still, as you can see, I’ve placed the group’s fourth album and first on major label, Warner Music Canada, in my top five for the year so you know I believe the album is worth your time. The songs are a bit of their time and place but can also be considered out of time. The band sings from a perspective with which I am very familiar and their instrumental prowess is understated but markedly better than some of their peers at the time, effortlessly sliding Celtic folk into an alt rock context. It’s an album, much like the rest of their catalogue, that deserves to be placed amongst the pantheon of great CanCon records but unfortunately, feels to me, largely forgotten.

So indulge me, if you will, and have a listen to “Save this house” in its entirety but if you are lacking the time, check out these three picks.

“Puttin’ up with the Joneses“: “Lock ’em up, and throw away the key, boys / The Joneses are not like you or me / Lock ’em up tight, ’cause if they had the chance they might / Show us that we’re wrong and that’s the one thing we can’t be.” My father got me a summer job working in the recycling plant division of the steel factory he worked at in the summer of 1995. For the first couple of weeks that I worked there, they didn’t know what to do with me and the other summer student that they had hired, so they had us scouring the barren fields on the property picking up scraps of metal that had floated down out of the air while they ran flattened cars through the ‘shredder’. I’ll always think of this song when I remember that summer because I sang the words to it to myself the whole time I was picking up these scraps. A song with a peppy rhythm put together with a non-stop acoustic strum, a popping bongo beat, and call and response vocals, words invoking everything I was feeling about the world in my youth. Questions of normalcy and what it all means, the relevance of life events, toeing the line or rebelling against it. A punk song that sounds more folk than The Pogues and that puts a smile on your face everytime.

“Save this house”: “The welcome mat’s worn out, the roof will never mend, the furniture’s on fire, this house is a disgrace. Someone change the locks before we trash this place.” The title track on the album is a three minute wonder that is very much relevant contextually to its era but is also quite prescient of the world events of the last few years. Starts off funky and haunting but at each chorus the guitars lose their effects and run at a straight ahead strum, racing at a pace that the bongos have a hard time keeping up with. The gang vocals add to the immediacy and invoke images of random and spontaneous jams at protest afterparties, a moment where everyone joins in, not just because they all know the words but more because there is a shared belief and conviction behind them. John Mann and company are bemoaning the state of the world, the politics and the environment, wondering aloud and not so conspicuously as to how we all got to this point and how we all let it happen. I’m still wondering the same.

“Home for a rest”: If, like me, you attended university in Canada in the 1990s (or in the years immediately following), you likely know this song or have drank and danced to it at some point whether you knew it or not. If you were not part of this cohort, you really don’t know what you’re missing. “By the light of the moon, she’d drift through the streets / A rare old perfume, so seductive and sweet / She’d tease us and flirt, as the pubs all closed down / Then walk us on home and deny us a round.” With universal, drinking song lyrics like this, “Home for a rest” has been considered by many an alternate Canadian national anthem, though it was never technically released as a single. I certainly love it and probably know the words just as well as I do “Oh Canada!”. I ranked it number two when I counted down my top five favourite by the band and placed it at number four in my Best tunes of 1990 list. I’ve danced to the wild music and have breathlessly sang along to all of these words so many times, in my room, at their shows, and on packed dance floors. And as I’ve written on these pages before, I was even coaxed up to a microphone by friends on a long ago green-beer-soaked Saint Patricks day at my old college pub, The Open End, to provide the slurring vocals when the entertainment for the evening couldn’t do it. This one has left an indelible mark on my life.

We’ll be back in a handful of days with album #4. In the meantime, here are the previous albums in this list:

10. The Northern Pikes “Snow in June”
9. Jane’s Addiction “Ritual de lo habitual”
8. Sinéad O’Connor “I do not want what I haven’t got”
7. The La’s “The La’s”
6. Concrete Blonde “Bloodletting”

You can also check out my Best Albums page here if you’re interested in my other favourite albums lists.

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Albums

Best albums of 2024: #1 The Cure “Songs of a lost world”

If you’ve been following along, you might have guessed this album to be here at number one, given its conspicuous absence thus far.

I’ve been a fan of The Cure for many years, close to four decades in fact. Yeah, I’m aging myself here but what can you do? I first got into the post-punk legends led by Robert Smith when I was in high school, shortly after the release of their seminal album, 1989’s “Disintegration“. Alternative music became a passion amongst me and a few friends, with each of us introducing the others to the latest bands, in a time before the internet. I’m pretty sure it was my friend John* that shared “Disintegration”, along with early singles compilation “Staring at the sea”, both of which I dutifully dubbed to blank cassette and quickly wore out from playing.

When “Wish” came out in 1992**, I wasted no time in purchasing it for my burgeoning CD collection and obviously played it to death. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for 1996’s “Wild mood swings” on either count. I did try to make amends with “Bloodflowers” in 2000*** but that was mostly because I had bought tickets to finally see the band live with my youngest sibling for that tour. I still don’t believe I have heard an ounce of either of the two albums Robert Smith and company released between that album and this year’s release.

All that to say, I certainly wasn’t expecting a new Cure album to be my favourite album of the year when the calendar turned to 2024 last January. But it certainly is and I’ll tell you why.

It could be just me but Robert Smith seems a completely different musician and person than he was in the early 2000s. I remember seeing them for that aforementioned show for the “Bloodflowers” tour and walking away disappointed. The setlist seemed more designed for him than for the audience. Contrast that with the next time I saw the group at Osheaga in 2013, when organizers had to pull the plug to get them to leave the stage, and even then, they performed “Boys don’t cry” without sound. I’ve heard that this is pretty much how all his shows go now. Playing everything he thinks his fans want to hear and having a great time doing it. And he’s been touring lots without releasing anything new for years, though the rumours of new material have been swirling faster and faster of late.

“Songs of a lost world”, The Cure’s 14th long player was finally released in November and it explodes through the speakers. It exudes all this passion that Smith performs with while on stage. People talk about how Cure albums waffle between goth records and pop records but this one feels like it nestles and nuzzles itself snuggly in between both. It is big and bold and is unabashedly The Cure.

At just eight songs, our number one album feels way too short, like we wouldn’t have minded it go on for another 45 minutes at least. However, Robert Smith has assured us that he’s got enough material in the can for a few more albums to come soon. Until then, let’s listen to this again and again and you could do worse than go with any of these, my three picks for you.

“Alone”: “This is the end of every song that we sing.” Quite the line to start off an album with. Indeed, it’s the first line on the first song and the first single to be released off the album. And that it comes just shy of the three and a half minute mark of a nearly seven minute song and that it just happens to be the first piece of new music to be released by The Cure in 16 years is both heartbreaking and beautiful. Of course, this was not random. Robert Smith knew he needed a great line to open the album and it might very well have been the reason that the long promised album kept getting pushed back. He’s readily admitted that once this line was written, the rest of the album fell easily into place. And this line, this song, is well worth all the waiting. The sweeping and trudging and haunting darkness that prefaces these words is simply gorgeous, so easy to get wrapped up in, that you almost don’t want any vocals to appear, that they might mar the perfection in some way. But of course, Smith doesn’t let this happen. His words, morose, moody, satisfied, whatever, they make the perfection even more so. How does it get better? Read on friends.

“All I ever am”: “My weary dance with age and resignation moves me slow, toward a dark and empty stage where I can sing of all I know.” The penultimate track on the album sounds like Mr. Smith reflecting on his mortality. But he does so with panache and in a way that only The Cure can do it. Of course, it’s morbid and morose, but it’s also set against an aggressive and tribal beat and haunting synths, ambulance sirens and elevated heart rhythms. There’s soaring guitars demanding to be forefront and twinkling keys content to take the back seat. It’s all very big and epic and romantic. And begs for more.

“A fragile thing”: “Don’t tell me how you miss me, I could die tonight of a broken heart.” This line and so many like it in this song is heartbreaking. The whole song is heartbreaking. Heartbreaking and truthful and real and beautiful. A song about a relationship in trouble, love when love is not enough, love that hurts, a relationship whose story is linear and long foretold. And the music is just as haunting. Menacing keys from an early eighties slasher flick, set against shimmering and blinding cymbals, and a foreboding bass line, the kind that keeps you up at night, cold sweat from a nightmare, reaching for comfort but only finding an indentation where a warm body should be. This is the kind of Cure single we’ve been waiting a couple of decades for and we are more than grateful to be able to crank it up and let all soak over us. Over and over and over again.

*Or maybe it was Tim?

**It was also around this time that I purchased an original pressing of “Mixed up” on vinyl. Sadly, I lost that one to one of my younger siblings when I moved away to university. I’ve since purchased a reissue.

***Thankfully, it was a better album than its predecessor.

I hope those of you that have been following along this mini-series of my favourite albums from last year. I am going to try to get back into a rhythm and a regular schedule after this. For those of you who haven’t been following along, here are the previous albums in this list that you’ve missed:

10. Quivers “Oyster cuts”
9. The Jesus And Mary Chain “Glasgow eyes”
8. The Last Dinner Party “Prelude to ecstasy”
7. Vampire Weekend “Only god was above us”
6. Real Estate “Daniel”
5. Wild Pink “Dulling the horns”
4. Wunderhorse “Midas”
3. Gift “Illuminator”
2. Ride “Interplay”

You can also check out my Best Albums page here if you’re interested in my other favourite albums lists.