Album Reviews

By the end of the '70s, rock was dead, prog-rock had grown grotesquely self-indulgent, and the angry punk/new wave deconstruction had begun. It was a long-overdue musical cleansing. The Sex Pistols and The Clash were at opposite ends of the dividing line: one unabashedly stupid, the other worldly and literate. The late Joe Strummer was anything but working class, but he kept his upper-class roots tightly wrapped beneath a veneer of growling anger and disgust. He was hardly alone in towing the image line.

Rather, going it alone was left to a group of middle-class boys who proclaimed themselves "soft." Soft and not afraid to be smart. Hardly reflecting the image (or the music) of the day, The Soft Boys' 1980 album Underwater Moonlight--now considered a classic--hardly made a commercial ripple when it was first released. Yet, with its jangley, shimmering Byrds-like guitars, melodic constructions, and smart, often surreal lyrics, the band presaged the '80s "college rock" of bands like R.E.M. Retro-smart paid off for Stipe, Buck, et. al, but hardly so for Robyn Hitchcock and company. Timing is apparently everything.

Following up on Matador's indispensable three-LP/CD reissue of The Soft Boys' groundbreaking Underwater Moonlight (which included bonus and live tracks) comes Nextdoorland, a surprising 2002 reunion album, wherein Hitchcock joins once again with his original band mates to create an album that sounds as fresh today as Underwater Moonlight did when it was first released. Which is to say, it bears a strong resemblance. Or, better to say, the new album is also influenced by the mid-to-late-'60s guitar-driven rock of The Beatles, The Byrds, and Syd Barrett-era Floyd. These are hardly new observations.

In fact, as these blokes have matured, their lock-step playing is in many ways better than ever, especially the guitar interplay between Hitchcock and Kimberley Rew, which is tight, ESP-communicative, and frequently droll. You can feel these two working off each other's ideas. Hitchcock's songwriting hasn't shifted much from what he's created for his recent Warner Bros. solo albums--the tunes have big hooks and driving verses. His often surreal narratives are filled with surprising twists and turns of phrase and circumstances (in "Sudden Town," a song about traveling and the sameness of places, Hitchcock jarringly inserts a chorus of "the ghouls will come singing sha-la-la-la-la la"), and his Bowie-by-way-of-John Lennon voice is seemingly unchanged by time.

The angular, melodic songs are jet-propelled by the dueling, jangling, percolating, twang-bar-beating guitars, and egged on by the ultra-sharp rhythm section of Morris Windsor and Matthew Seligman (the latter an in-demand session bassist for the past two decades). Check out the interplay on "Mr. Kennedy," the album's highlight. If you don't let the textures grab you, this album can slide by on its opaque, hardened surfaces and familiar melodic crevices, and you'll miss the icy, inner beauty of what the band has achieved, coming in part through its sharply drawn chorus harmonies.

The sound is appropriately forward and somewhat brittle, with rhythm taking precedent over lushness in the guitar textures. Don't expect an "audiophile" listening experience, but do expect great clarity, focus, and rhythmic organization, as well as an overall crisp and exhilarating ride.

A bonus 7-inch "45" (one side's cut at 33 1/3, the other at 45--what's with that?) of "Underwater Moonlight" and "Only the Stones Remain," recorded live in 2001, demonstrates just how well these guys still play.

Nextdoorland is a smart, energetic, and inspired record. That it's a reunion is superfluous, but nonetheless amazing and inspiring.