The Italian Flag


The love affair continues. It’s the Residents, it’s the Fall, it’s William Burroughs, it’s when drunkenness becomes an art beyond Shane McGowan, it’s disco, it’s Stereolab, it’s Nuclear Death, it’s “I Love You,” it’s “I Hate You,” it’s truth and nonsense and grudges and violence all erupting in six different directions at once. I’m hopelessly devoted. Now that my lack of objectivity has been established, we may move on.

Where to begin? “Deanshanger” made me dizzy. Mick rants about how everything about the 1980s (“The music! Was Crap! The hair! Was Crap! The clothes! Were Crap!”) was crap while Linda whispers a chilling note about being trapped in a room. On “Killing The Bland,” Linda mutters vengefully about having to kill unwanted suitors, “which might be unfair — for her.” And Mick finally sings along! Mick doesn’t sing along on the bouncy “Autocade,” because he thought it was crap. Or this year’s Prom Couples’ Dance Smash, “Bruxelles,” which is Mick and Linda free-associating random words over a heartbreaking piano sequence. Makes me break down every time. “Flat Velocity Curve” is just plain scary, with its “Zurich Is Stained” mantra. Then “Visa for Violent and Van” is pure stream-of-consciousness violence masquerading as pop. That’s the beauty of this album.

There, I said it. Prolapse took the plunge and made their big pop album. It’s still years more experimental and dysfunctional than any of our current radio/magazine fodder, but there’s songs!! Not one weak track here. Mick and Linda have both said that the next album is probably going to be all vacuum cleaner noises, but for now we have this gem to latch on to, while we skip down the streets hand in hand. I want to hear this record at roller-skating rinks everywhere!!! Jetset Records, 67 Vestry St. #5C, New York, NY 10013;

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