Tag: Gothic rock

Albums

Best albums of 1990: Albums #10 through #6

Post author By jprobichaud
Post date May 31, 2025
9 Comments on Best albums of 1990: Albums #10 through #6

A couple of posts ago, I initiated a new mini-series focusing on my favourite albums of 1990. I shared some words on the concept, the fact that 1990 was the year with which I started out this blog, focusing then, on its best tunes, and finally, providing a handful of album honourable mentions. So I’ll not blather on too much today for preamble. If you’re interested where I was musically and in life in general that year, have a looky-loo here. Otherwise, I’ll dig right into albums 10 through 6 of my list of top albums for 1990*.

Enjoy!

#10 The Northern Pikes “Snow in June”

The Pikes’ third and best-selling record feels inextricably tied to my DNA sometimes. It’s not one I listen to often anymore but whenever I do, it instantly transports me back to my teenaged bedroom, where listened to this cassette tape on repeat, constantly flipping sides, while playing hours upon hours of ‘Pool of radiance’ on my C64. It’s way more than just the ubiquitous CanCon classic, “She ain’t pretty“. There’s thirteen solid rock tracks that are tempered by folk leanings and varied in sound according to which of the three vocalists wrote and led the singing on each. Perhaps the nostalgia is strong here but I stand by my love for this album. It’s unfortunate that the Saskatchewan-based quartet couldn’t keep the momentum up for their next album.

#9 Jane’s Addiction “Ritual de lo habitual”

Jane’s Addiction’s second proper studio album was handed to me on cassette tape by a friend and fellow new initiate to the alternative music scene, calling it industrial and comparing the group to Nine Inch Nails and Ministry, both bands I was just getting into. Of course, Jane’s weren’t really industrial but they had that similar rage and wild sound and perhaps even more so in a sense. There’s so many great tracks on ‘Ritual’ and I’ve always thought that what set them so apart was that the songs are all slightly unhinged, as if the whole ship could all fall apart at any moment. This orchestrated chaos was what made the American quartet led by Perry Farrell so great but it was also their undoing**. They broke up at the end of the tour for the album, the finale of which also saw the group headlining the very first Lollapalooza festival.

#8 Sinéad O’Connor “I do not want what I haven’t got”

I remember buying this album on cassette tape as part of Columbia House’s 9 albums for a penny, way back in the day, and for the longest time, only listening to “Nothing compares 2 u” because that was the song I knew from my weekly viewing of the Chum FM 30. Once I moved past that one tune, though, I grew to appreciate Sinéad’s other material. I later migrated away from listening to her, not because of her infamous photo burning appearance on SNL or her outspokenness on many topics, but because my tastes took me in a different direction. However, I’ve since returned to this album many times over the last couple of decades. Sinéad was a great songwriter. Not just a lyricist but also in the way she created a sound, sometimes infusing Celtic folk sounds with funky drum beats and sometimes leaving it all bare, singing a capella and including her inhalations of breathe as another tool in her tool belt. Such a legendary voice and polarizing persona.

#7 The La’s “The La’s”

You’ve heard about one hit wonders, right? Well, how about one album wonders? The La’s were a five-piece Liverpool-based rock act led by Lee Mavers that were active from 1983 to 1992. They released a handful of singles throughout that time, including one of my favourite one hit wonders, “There she goes”, but only ever managed the one studio album before disbanding***. But what a great album it was. The self-titled debut is filled with short and jangly rock gems that dig their way into your head and root themselves in there for good measure, much like another act from that same England town. It’s another one of those great rock ‘what if’ stories. Who knows what a second record would have meant to the band and perhaps rock music as a whole.

#6 Concrete Blonde “Bloodletting”

Concrete Blonde’s third album was oh-so-close to breaking into my top five for 1990. Previously, the sound of the Hollywood-based, indie rock trio led by Johnette Napolitano was mostly pedestrian rock and yet, their following was meagre, being picked up mostly by the college radio kids. With “Bloodletting”, they ventured into gothic rock territory and surprisingly, found commercial success for the first time. I remember listening to this album around my wife at one point early on in our relationship and she was surprised that I was listening to a band that she knew. But this album is so much more than “Joey“. Every track is dark and haunting and full of soul and drenched with meaning for me. I could listen to this album all night long.

*With each album in this post, I’ve tried to choose a representative track that was not featured on my Best tunes list for 1990, partly to show the breadth of each and partly to avoid being repetitive.

**I’ve often thought that it could have been Jane’s and not Nirvana that broke alternative to the mainstream, had they managed to survive the touring cycle for this album.

***There were a number of attempts at reforming over the years but none have really stuck up to now.

Stay tuned for album #5 on this list. In the meantime, you can check out my Best Albums page here if you’re interested in my other favourite albums lists.

Tags 1990, 1990s, Alternative, Alternative Rock, American rock, British rock, Can Con, Concrete Blonde, Gothic rock, Indie, Indie rock, Irish, Jane's Addiction, Retro, Sinéad O'Connor, Singer/Songwriter, The La's, The Northern Pikes

Albums

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

Post author By jprobichaud
Post date March 29, 2025
2 Comments on 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.

Tags 2020s, 2024, Alternative, Alternative Rock, Best albums, Best of 2024, British rock, Dream Pop, End of year, Gothic rock, Indie, Post-Punk, Robert Smith, The Cure

Albums

Best albums of 2023: #3 The Veils “…And out of the void came love”

Post author By jprobichaud
Post date December 21, 2023
4 Comments on Best albums of 2023: #3 The Veils “…And out of the void came love”

When I sat down to write this post, I was not a little bit flabbergasted to realize that this would make only the second time* that The Veils have appeared on these pages. Of course, it made more sense once I reasoned that it had been more than seven years since their last album, which was one year before I started My Life in Music Lists.

The Veils got their start way back in 2001 when a teenaged Finn Andrews was signed to Rough Trade Records and relocated back to his birthplace of London, England after growing up for the most part in New Zealand. He has been the group’s driving force and only static member, though they did have a pretty stable five-piece lineup for a decade or so between the mid-2000s and up to the release and tour cycle of their fifth album, 2016’s “Total depravity”. I had been a pretty rabid fan of the group, right after hearing their debut, espousing their virtues to all my friends and acquaintances, and featuring them regularly on my old blog, Music Insanity**.

I would go on about how Finn Andrews’ theatrical vocals and emotional songwriting and delivery really set The Veils apart from any other band, comparing his voice to that of a Rufus Wainwright or a young Lou Reed (before his voice went to seed) and his soul to that of Tom Waits or Nick Cave, or even an older Lou Reed. And all of these superlatives grew in stature when I saw them in 2007 for their tour supporting their 2006 album, “Nux Vomica”, and was blown away by the passion of Andrews and how he throws himself completely into the performance of his music.

To that point, Andrews broke his wrist while touring a solo album he had released in 2019 and he made it worse by deciding to finish out the tour. This meant for a much longer recovery in which he couldn’t tour or perform live. Instead, he spent the time resting and writing and recording by himself. Of course, the worldwide pandemic complicated things and extended their absence, but when The Veils finally resurfaced, now in 2023, it was with this magnificent double album and a whole new lineup of players backing the welcome return of an incredible songwriter and singular vocalist.

“…And out of the void came love” is an album of two thematic parts, meant to be listened to as such. It is recognizable as The Veils and their gothic and romantic take on folk and rock, still evoking Waits and Cave, but here there is more hope, a hint of a sunrise after a long dark night. I highly recommend you take the time give this one its due but my three picks for you can give a taste of what this return has to offer.

“Epoch“: The second song on the second side of part/disc one, aka track number six, is an urgent and visceral explosion. Andrews holds court like a crazed ringmaster during the verses, shouting rather than singing them, rattling them off through an an invisible megaphone, tipping his hat, and dancing a jig and all the while drums clatter, the bass punishes, and guitars dance through feedback and threaten to fall out of tune. And when it comes to the chorus, all Andrews needs to do is repeat the same line, “I’ve seen it coming”, multiple times, but they’re just words, the meaning and emotion is different every time they escape his lips. It’s a vocal achievement and a trick of magic and you’re held rapt the whole time.

“Time”: This whole beast starts off with this nearly six minute piano-driven dirge that was released as a single on New Years Day 2023. It was written during the first lockdowns in New Zealand and reflects what I am sure a lot of us were feeling in the early days of the pandemic. The piano rolls interminably like the incessant ticking of a clock as it keeps you up in the early hours of the morning. It has the feeling of walking the tightrope of insanity. “Тіmе іѕ а dеvіl. Тіmе іѕ а rосk. Тіmе іѕ а rіddlе, nоnе оf uѕ саn unlосk.” It is Andrews playing in a realm of poetic lyricism, dragging us along with him through his range of emotions, and it is here, along with a number of other places on the album, that we can hear with almost perfectly clarify where all those comparisons to Nick Cave come from.

“No limits of stars”: The track that follows the last one then turns us all on our heads. If we think we’re getting and we think we want an album full of murder ballads like “Time”, we realize within the first few seconds of “No limit of stars” that we were dead wrong. “Well, it’s true the universe cares not how we all live and die. But there’s an element missing in that arrangement somehow, and I wondered why, in any way, we don’t live long, beneath no limit of stars.” It’s a rousing piece of existentialism, an exploration of our smallness in the face of infinity and expansion. And Andrews and his merry band of musicians punish us lovingly with a tune without quit. The drum beat doesn’t break and the haunting guitars and lonely keys match it breath for breath, heartache for heartache. It exists in a frozen place and time, as the second hand hesitates between notches just after midnight and the rest of the house is quiet, save for its settling creaks and groans. It is intense but perfectly so.