The Church
The Blurred Crusade

THE REVIEW

Perhaps we are here; or rather, "Today is the day".

Whatever happens, I cannot wait any longer. Because the second album by the Church, published way back in 1982, is one of those works that haunts me, buzzing in my head for decades. And I have never managed to come up with anything decent; I adore the band, I adore and own a good part of their endless discography. Yet with Steve Kilbey, Peter Koppes, and Marty Willson-Piper (the sacred trio that crafted such a recognizable sound), and particularly with this album, I have found myself in great difficulty; a sort of legitimate intimidation in facing and describing the songs that make up this masterpiece. It may seem strange, but it is all true.

Last October, the band released their twenty-fifth album, once again demonstrating an innate class; charming and intimate as in the good old days.

Despite a career nearing forty years, the Australians have not received the success they so richly deserve; and it is a shame to think that they are very often remembered as "the ones from Under The Milky Way". A song that is undoubtedly captivating, like the entire Starfish album, but the guys from Sydney and its surroundings deserve greater recognition, starting with The Blurred Crusade.

Sure, there is to consider against them an attitude, particularly from the singer and leader Steve, that is somewhat haughty and self-indulgent. Steve has always been a brilliant, extremely ambitious visionary; an absolute master who wanted things his way, leading to frequent quarrels, departures, and defections in the lineup. But in the face of the enormous scale and beauty, which still doesn't fade, of the ten songs that form the sound structure of the album, we can forgive the Church for everything.

We are facing a work that has its roots in Rock echoing the psychedelic jingle jangle; with those 12-string arpeggios from Marty that head unobstructed towards the most charming Byrds. But it certainly doesn't end there, the range of influences that can be savored upon listening since the shadow of the New Wave à la Television is put in the foreground; the remarkable one-two punch at the beginning with "Almost With You" and especially "When You Were Mine" fully demonstrates my point. Atmospheric, ethereal, lysergic, visionary; with an amazing touch that ambitiously gazes towards that Paisley Underground that was gaining ground, let us remember that we're in 1982, on American soil where the time of Wine and Roses was ripe!!

At this point in my discourse, I feel obliged to quote an old post by a colleague of ours during a listening of the album in December 2014. The user in question, whose identity I will not reveal even though it will be easy to discover given his equally strong love for the Church, in very few words gives a perfect reading of The Blurred Crusade. Much more effective than my lengthy discussion up to this point: "Perhaps it’s needless to reiterate that The Blurred Crusade is Kilbey’s aristocratic masterpiece. A first side to be passed down to posterity for its perfection, a second side that begins with 'Just for You', continues with 'A Fire Burns', quiets with the chisels of 'To be in Your Eyes', gallops with 'You Took' and closes with the early Americana of 'Don't Look Back'... behold, we named them all..." Thank you, thank you truly boy from Turin: the square of the circle...FIELD OF MARS...

Ad Maiora.