Glass

Album review

Anyone see this abysmal LP coming? What happened to these friendly Irishmen who gave listeners a mini-masterpiece in the Grand Parade LP and especially the Indian Ocean EP in 1995, and whose good works go back to the late '80s? Maybe the last LP, Beauty Becomes More Than Life, wasn't as good, but it still had plenty of "grand" moments, full of their infinitely caring, emotional good-guyisms and the odd huge hook. Unfortunately, the only good thing one can say about Glass (as in glass ceiling?) is that Paul Linehan still sounds like a good guy and a good singer, and it breaks one's heart to savage him for the rest of this paragraph. But he and his mates' decision to scuttle the brisk, vigorous indie pop they've given for so long for this bad new wave electro-pop has strangled all the life out of the songs, with only the slight exception of the opening "Underground" (a totally average song). Three-quarters of an hour of abject ennui passes and you're left bedazzled by its ineffectuality, the sheer flat nothingness. Bands should progress, grow, and try new things. But this is devolution, a butterfly turning into a caterpillar, a "how to neuter inspiration" textbook, a "how to muzzle a spirited drummer by replacing him with a lifeless machine" whodunit, a "how to bore the living sh*t out of loyal fans" primer. This was a most unpleasant development, a throwback to the mid-'80s, when it seemed like every challenging post-punk band you cared about turned to facile dance-pop with those awful Linn drums the world is so rid of now. Even giving the Frank and Walters full benefit of the doubt for wanting a total overhaul, they couldn't have failed more miserably than this half-hearted, punchless, spiritless, dreary dreck. Will some wizard please come and wake these guys up from this dreaded poppies sleep? One fears the witch has struck them down short of Oz. And what a sad development.

© Jack Rabid /TiVo