Vocal is diffident, accurate, unassuming, and boring. Teenbeat now sports a rough-beard to accompany his rambling monologue of drones, moans, growls and rants. Uncertainty over a partner's continued dedication proclaimed also to have an undercurrent of Czechoslovakian politics : "I'm still getting butterflies, I'm sure she's not getting butterflies".
Gorgeous guitar, scratch noise and feedback, spiralling chord sequences, slides and fiddles with a plastic bottle. No need for debates about the relative merits of Stones or Beatles either, they draw happily from both reference points.
That song was our statement somehow. They have found a home at Domino and they were all very enthusiastic about the idea when we talked to them.
Or the th reissue of Bob Dylan farting into his harmonica? He was looking after the Inspiral Carpets t-shirts, which would flood out of their lock-up and into the corridor. Suse does all technical recording, producing stuff. Female might is right. Byrne fronts with vocal, electric piano, and regular switches to guitar.
But you can't help thinking that there is, in fact, more black than white.
He don't belong here. All they need now is a lion tamer. No verbal baggage. The lead guitar picks around warmly like Nick Lowe, and the bass bounds around to produce neat one- or two-bar melodies. This was confident music, and it was beginning to look as if we were heading for more confident times — within the narrow margins of its constricted political spectrum, Britain had moved a micron to the left, as Tony Blair emerged as the benevolent face of capitalism.