http://open.spotify.com/album/4lktnCTpQK5vV1im9Z3htYAh, once again we enter the ctitical minefield of the 'hugely influential'- abandon all hope all ye who dare attempt an objective opinion. By all estimates 'Entertainment' sold around 46 copies when it was first released, and even then mostly to the band's immediate family, but it's influence on pretty much all incidents of politically charged post-punk and rock that have occured over the past quarter decade has vastly outweighed its meagre sales. Indeed, there was an 18 month period around 6 years ago, mainly the fault of Franz Ferdinand releasing their debut album, where ebery single new British indie band just seemed to be subtly re-working 'At Home He's a Tourist', the only real noticable difference being that the lead singer might perhaps wear slightly different shoes. They are possibly the first band to have their music described as 'angular. I want to enjoy this, I truly do...
00:30 Mmmmmmmmmm, angular...
02:52 There's a fantastic affect that happens just at the start of the chorus in 'Ether', where the guitar jumps out of tune for a few miliseconds and makes the record sound like it's skipping in time to the song. Well I liked it. The first song is brilliantly raw and unsettling, which is a brilliant relief after sitting through Mott the Hoople
06:37 'Natural's Not In It' is pleasantly abbrasive enough, but there's really good tune hiding within its jangled walls, and you can't help but feel they've undersold it somewhat
08:40 At it's best 'Not Great Men' sounds like a blueprint for much of the Talking Heads, there are moments, however, when you hear the clipped vocals and bass guitar and can't seem the shake the horrific image of Sting and the Police out of your mind (shudder...)
13:48 'Your kiss so sweet/ Your sweat so sour/ Sometimes I'm thinking that I love you/ But then I know it's only lust'. Gang of Four's take on sex is hardly Barry White. Great as some of the lyrics are, you can't help but picture the band as possibly the last people you would ever invite to Wetherspoons to make the most of their 'Pound a Cider' night.
15:16 I have a real problem with songs where the singer just sings along to the guitar line, and I can't explain why. Answers on a postcard...
16:30 'Return the Gift' is the first song that really feels a bit flat, especially that wierd spoken word bit at the end done in a comedy Mexican accent. Oh, hang on, that's an advert for Nandos.
17:06 People do realise that Nandos is just chicken don't they?
17:36 I mean, that's it. Chicken. Nothing else.
19:29 I'm gonna try and sound all clever now by pointing out that 'Guns Before Butter' is probably a rteference to a famous Herman Goerring quote. The song itself doesn't quite sound fully formed- not nearly angry enough to be tuneless.
19:46 'Angry enough to be tuneless' would be a great T-shirt quote
22:20 After losing its way for a couple of tracks, 'I Find That Essence Rare' is a classic example of spiky post-punk, and is good enough to stop me sneaking off to the toilet, which when you think about it is all music really aspires to.
24:35 Considering that this album is thirty years old, it's a little bit disheartening to note how little the great majority of this genre of music has evolved.
27:24 Track nine now, and it's all beginning to get a bit relentlessly po-faced. I would suggest a cover of 'Atmosphere' by Russ Abbott around track seven to leaven the mood slightly.
28:32 Russ Abbott's version of 'Atmosphere' is almost unrecognisable from the Joy Division original.
31:42 Twang, scratch, schwang, eeeeeeeeeeek, thwudunk...
32:00 'At Home He's A Tourist' must be one of the strangest 'hit' singles of all time, barely a tune to speak of underneath all the guitar crunches and spat lyrics, but it's strangely affecting all the same.
35:32 'Watch new blood on an 18" screen/ The corpse is a new personality'
40:17 'Love Like Anthrax' (those old charmers) is a brilliantly odd end to the album, squeals of feedback and spoken word threaten to make the whole thing an unlistenable mess, but the sense of rythm and raw funk of the bassline serve not only to make it very listenable, but almost danceable. It's a lesson in how to make something extremely challenging without it turning into an unlistenable turgid mess (cough, coughPearlJamcough, cough). It ends the album on a high note.
The album's influence is as clear as a bell to anyone without frog-spawn in their ears (yes, I'm talking to you, you know who you are, take that out at once, you're forty six now for God's sake, if only your mother were alive to see you now, I dread to think what she'd make of you), and it's easy to consider just how much of a shock to the system this album would have been 30 years ago. However, it's power has unarguably waned over the years, and while a good half of the tracks are pretty great, and the none of the others could be classed as stinkers, the unrelenting seriousness of it all, the creeping suspicion that the band only really have one trick which they continue to flog admittadly well, and the simple paucity of enough truly killer tunes all combine to make this an album which is around ten times easier to admire than it is to truly love
C+
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