Tom Verlaine
Words From The Front

The third chapter of Tom Verlaine's discography has always divided opinions: some consider it his most precious piece, elevating it even to a cornerstone of rock music, while others complain about detecting some compositional fatigue in the soul of the alienated singer and guitarist from the Big Apple, accusing him of sticking too closely to the sound that made him known in the underground scene.

As often happens, the truth lies in the middle: "Words From The Front" is indeed an inspired album. If Verlaine's guitar sound in previous works was great, here it is superb, able to make the soul vibrate by applying strength on soft sonic carpets without scratching them ("True Story", beautiful), he indulges more in experimentation than he has in the past, at least in his solo career, producing a long piece with a distressed, spoken, almost threatening singing, a war story that his harrowing solos color with blood (the title track "Words From The Front") and on the contrary, compses a very pleasant, romantically and positively musical ballad like "Postcard From Waterloo". Each of these examples highlights how Verlaine should be considered one of the most innovative and unique guitarists on the music scene, perhaps not appreciated as much as he deserved. The guitar overdubs fit perfectly and not a note is lost; the voice, however, always resides in a separate dimension, alongside, there nearby yet on another plane, its icy and trembling singing is also a trademark well-represented by the concluding, long, hypnotic "Days On The Mountain", another interesting episode where over the span of 8 and a half minutes Verlaine drifts further into the fog swallowed by the overwhelming sound, a sound that is alive and independent. This track remains an initial hint of musical evolution for Tom Verlaine, who with this third work from 1982 surpasses his releases with the Television (not that it took much) and exposes himself to a series of critiques denouncing an excessive stylistic repetitiveness. Not that Verlaine indeed makes much effort to vary his tone, and if this was until recently considered an asset, it is understandable that at this point it starts to wear thin: the opening "Present Arrived" although it sounds like a piece of excellent craftsmanship, reeks of familiarity, the same verdict on the rapid "Coming Apart" while the slow "Clear It Away" is more boring than beautiful.

It's an album that stands half a step below the previous "Dreamtime" while still remaining a superior work, crafted by a superior mind. One can attempt to play like Tom Verlaine, but only he manages to copy himself, albeit with the risk of seeming repetitive. His greatness also lies here.