Published: Les Inrockuptibles
(France)
June, 1993
The Jazz Butcher seems to belong to another distant era,
where we discover with delight a certain homemade pop
after years of New Wave deceptions. Cornerstone of a
generation which is going to give colour and body to
guitars, rediscover the idea of song writing, by distilling a
gentle madness which remains his own,
Pat Fish
, for these
reasons will be eternally thanked.
But it must be said that the old chap has decline in the last
years, releasing average records followed by others even
weaker, to end up only existing through a handful of
faithful. The others, those who have quit the scene since
Fishcotheque
, will perhaps this time come back into the fold -
by nostalgia or amusement - it doesn't matter - and
shouldn't regret the move.
Yes, Waiting for the love bus is a good album. Not a work
of art where we surprise ourselves on each listen, but a good
album none the less. Having passed the obligatory
de-greasing, 2 or 3 tracks get the album off the ground - a
good old family boogie like in the damp basements of Le
Havre or Boston and after we have done the
Velvet Underground 70 -
OK??, the rest is of high quality.
In fact 4 songs, in the middle of the record, but 4 which we
are going to wear out, with
Whaddya?
, beautiful and sad which
it's bits of organ gathered by light sweeps of a tempo which
seems like a muffled whisper. Followed by
Sweetwater
and
Ghosts
, much more up beat, where the perfect choruses
will give the Butcher the certains Mini Hits which have
deserted him lately.
Baltic
tops off this little series and
imposes itself like a driven in nail to show this return to
form, with its Baroque waltz melody where even the guitars
end up sounding like a harpsicord. After this the purring can
continue and finish in comfortable indifference, these fours
songs will have been enough satisfy you.
translation by: joe[at]-remove-cetia.fr (Joe Nicholson)
Waiting For The Love Bus
There's a clean, simple sound to a lot of this that
Condition Blue detractors might
appreciate. I'm ten years older now than when
I made
Bath, and right now,
after all that morbid stuff, it only
really feels like about three. There's rockin' shit and there's a big
ballad or two and some weird little pop songs and a nice family
sing-along about penguins. I hope you like it.
creation_records, TriStar Records
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