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Rating:
PREMISE: This review does not add anything new to what has been written (on debaser.it and elsewhere) about the second album of Public Image Ltd. I’m not interested in discovering new unexplored nooks within the album nor do I want to waste time with pointless collector's discussions. Everything I write will be heartfelt and visceral.
The rotten Albion land plagued by Thatcherism. Zero social protections, a thousand generational anxieties, too much metropolitan bleakness, and the "No Future" taking concrete shape.
"He" (who is not the Duce) has always been able to translate this nightmare into notes and words. With that bastardly grin, with that small physique and that childish voice. He's always been a step ahead of the others.
He laughs, jokes, spits, insults, reflects, and then moans. He has always been a disenchanted and cynical narrator. A Carmelo Bene of the new wave era or an Emil Cioran with a microphone. Unthinkable comparisons, as usual for me, but hyperbole is often the most direct expression.
After the blows contained in the debut... a new and unexpected birth!
The punk style angry laziness, a hint of Neu!-like minimalism (take that, to those who always portrayed him as McLaren's ignorant puppet!), a touch of Dub and a mountain of uneasiness combine perfectly. Grievous perfection.
Music? Yes! But also an amphetamine jolt, and at the same time morphine-like, given as a gift to the listeners.
Does it sound dull and monotonous? Then go to hell! Does it sound cool and innovative? What a discovery!
A record, not a monument. A record that describes, with fluid words and notes, what was being lived in those sad times. Times that, to our immense misfortune, are returning.
A sui generis Lydon or maybe a highly personal and ordinary Lydon. A Lydon, ultimately, UNFORGETTABLE.
Tracklist
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