RECORDS
If pop music (yeah) is the medium in which successive generations define “love” according to their desires and needs, then what were the Psychedelic Furs doing on their first album? Richard Butler’s voice snarled razor blades, his mouth full of soap commercials and useless mantras, a veritable optical sewer, in his own words.
RECORDS
PSYCHEDELIC FUR LOW
PSYCHEDELIC FURS Midnight To Midnight (Columbia)
Michael Davis
If pop music (yeah) is the medium in which successive generations define “love” according to their desires and needs, then what were the Psychedelic Furs doing on their first album? Richard Butler’s voice snarled razor blades, his mouth full of soap commercials and useless mantras, a veritable optical sewer, in his own words. “We Love You” is one of the most sarcastic songs ever recorded; no wonder many took it for an anti-pop statement.
Since then (yeah), the sticky marshmallow of pop acceptance has descended upon the Furs. Pop’s musical conventions and the band’s musical limitations have been running parallel long enough that, well, you show me the difference.
Instrumental^, the Furs remain as solidly unspectacular as ever. The guitars—there are two of ’em again—are effective at chording and textures but the best they can manage during the breaks are a few feeble steps towards The Edge or an inept nod in the direction of Manzanera. Sax man Mars Williams plays his parts well and makes the most of his brief solo on “Angels Don’t Cry.”