The Big Pink
A Brief History of Love

There's this kind of drugged dream, where I am Ian Brown looking to kick some ass, in a smoky club in late '80s Manchester, right in the middle of the "24 Hour Party People" era, with Bobby Gillespie from Primal Scream swirling around me, house music pumping bass into my brain, smoke, lots of smoke, blaring volumes and rivers of alcohol, faces brushing past, blurred figures, heads held high and caps on noses, female presences too faint to be real, mugs of beer, vomit on the pavement, that kind of panic rising endlessly from somewhere in the body then spreading everywhere, still volumes too loud, still fleeting figures, the rhythm growing, fires in barrels, signals of a challenge, then nothing.

I wake up, only to realize I'm laying on the couch with the stereo on, headphones on my ears. Fade out.

The meaning of the dream is easy to decipher: I had these two English lads in my ears who call themselves Big Pink: their debut, "A Brief History Of Love", is fairly recent stuff.

Shoegaze boiling in the pot alongside an insane baggie attitude, industrial sounds, flashes of electronic, a "madchester" pop nature, very much (listen to "At War With The Sun") Stone Roses.

Those who, like me, simply adored the records of Happy Mondays, Stone Roses, Primal Scream, and JesusAndMaryChain, that detuned pop surrounded by sheets of feedback and house rhythms, will love these guys.

The Big Pink contextualize that sound by readapting it to our days, with a pinch, if you will, of extra malice. I've been waiting years for melodies to strike me so disruptively as those of "Velvet" and "Dominos" (bomb single); it's pure pop toxicity that emanates from "Crystal Visions", with guitar reverbs trying to break free from the catchy lull set up by the voice. The already mentioned "At War..." has a dance step like the best Stone tracks did, "Love In Vain" takes Richard Aschcroft and dips him into a pot of LSD, "Countbackwards From Ten" wraps it up with typical British melancholy. The album loses a bit of edge towards the end, with "Golden Pendulum" and "Frisk", which add nothing new to what’s already been heard. Which, anyway, is a good listen.

It fully deserves a 7. Madchester is back.