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Rating: An interesting yet little-known band is Theatre Of Hate, an 80s group that fits into that new wave trend. "Westworld", ironically, was the first and last studio album released by Theatre Of Hate, but despite the decades that have passed, the album sounds sufficiently fresh. A band composed of seven young men, Marxist sympathizers. Ordinary and restless young Albion lads, who decided to take up instruments to express their protest against Margaret Thatcher's mindless policies.
Theatre Of Hate resemble, at certain points, certain '77 punk solutions, but dominate with twilight and melancholic notes. Not to be overlooked, however, is a certain "pop" component, a dosed element capable of softening the excessive dark tones of the early eighties. Curious is the use of the saxophone, usually not inclined to this genre. The sound could be likened to Bauhaus, but less edgy.
The title track is a martial and monolithic piece. An essential text describes what, at the time, was their and our slice of the world. "Conquistador" is an epic and solemn composition. A song like this must be rediscovered by all new wave exegetes. "The Kaln" is the epitome of dark emotivity applied to themes of burning relevance. Tear-jerking!
In conclusion, a highly respectable album that fits into the 80s rock-wave panorama, a decade far too underestimated, and rediscovered in recent years. Gianni Vittorio
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
11 Propaganda (02:50)
On the air
the ministry broadcasts
pavlov's dog jerking
in tune, in time
barking but headless
orgasms in pain
thought a condition
morality insane
but me and you we know better
it's only propaganda
we're leading wonderful lives
but me and you we know better
we're leading wonderful lives
nuremberg 33
again in 45
intimidation necessary
for the violence to survive
in the re-run
the cast is the same
animals feeding
insane, insane
but me and you we know better
it's only propaganda
we're leading wonderful lives
but me and you we know better
it's only propaganda
we're leading wonderful lives
14 Incinerator (04:27)
Everything I touch and hold it then turns into stone, stone
for I have looked behind me and seen
the reflection was a dream, a falsehood
and there will be an end to us
when I tell you that it was all lies
that
hold me to you,
hold me to you,
hold me to you, till you die
hold me to you,
hold me to you,
hold me to you, till you die
Everything I touch and hold it then turns into stone, stone
for I have looked behind me and seen
the reflection was a dream, dream
and there will be an end to us
when I tell you that it was all lies
that
hold me to you,
hold me to you,
hold me to you, till you die
hold me to you,
hold me to you,
hold me to you, till you die
hold me to you,
hold me to you,
hold me to you
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Other reviews
By Taxirider
Theatre Of Hate recalls, at certain points, some punk ’77 solutions but what prevails are twilight and melancholic notes.
"Conquistador" is an epic and solemn composition. A track like this must be rediscovered by all the exegetes of the new wave.
