We were deeply confused young men when we made this record. Max, Jones and I had all been drinking dangerously for over a year now. Generally, we had it down in concert. In just about every other department, however, we were coming to bits, individually and collectively, and to me this record actually shows the morbid state of things at the time.
Earlier Jazz Butcher LPs showed our hero to be the
quintessential charming Englishman: a dab of
nobility here, some dry Oxonian wit there, and a
smirking, smart-ass grin spread across his face.
His weapons were his cutting lyrics (well-
sharpened) and a tongue-in-cheek kind of rippling
folk-rock inflected with cocktail jazzisms. Much
of that kind of behaviour is to be found here, but
several of the tunes are so lacking in bite that
anyone hearing this guy for the first time might
think he was playing it straight. Is he? "
Still In The Kitchen
Who Loves You Now?
" seem a
bit too self-consciously maudlin, while "
seems to strain for silliness. Of course,
the joke might be over my head, and the record is
not without its clever moments, but overall this
is a lesser effort. (Big Time/RCA)