I love the current trend of record labels re-mixing, re-packaging, and
re-releasing my favorite albums from middle and high school in order to win my
hard-earned Gen X dollars. The choices are usually based on nostalgia and half
the time, when I listen to the album again, I realize that it doesn't sound
nearly as good now as it did when I was an ennui-afflicted 14-year-old. Still,
the appeal of "going home again" was strong enough that I became excited upon
hearing that Epic's Legacy imprint was giving the royal treatment to The The's
first four albums for the label -- Soul Mining (1983), Infected
(1986), Mind Bomb (1989), and Dusk (1993) -- since the two
middle albums were treasures of my teenage record collection. At the
insistence of The The mastermind Matt Johnson, the re-issues contain no bonus
tracks because he conceived the original albums as complete works and doesn't
want to alter their focus. That's fair enough -- it's about time someone
realized that bonus tracks aren't such a bonus when they are of inferior
quality and/or interfere with the sonic flow of an album. What the new discs
do provide is 24-bit re-mastering courtesy of music biz legend Howie
Weinberg, complete lyrics and personnel listings, original cover art, and
extra photos.
But what matters most is how the music stands the test of time. Of the two
middle albums, Infected fares the worst. Upon its release, NME
claimed "Johnson has freeze-framed a whole nation at a moment in time", and
that stands true for better and for worse. Released at the height of
Thatcher-era money-grubbing and paranoia, the album is a diatribe against
various political and personal injustices. Unfortunately, the album is also
"infected" by dreary '80s dance-pop leanings. The title track comes near being
an embarrassment, what with its crazed horns, synth beats, and background
wailing by Tessa Niles, who also sang back-up for none other than Duran Duran.
While it suffers from similar overproduction, "Out of the Blue (Into the
Fire)" is far more successful. Johnson makes the sexual encounter that is the
song's subject both loathsome and sexy, growling lines like "I want a feeling
worth paying for" -- an apt statement on the effect those Reagan-Thatcher days
exerted on our psyches, if ever there was one.
By no means was Johnson's social commentary unintentional; Infected
seethes with lyrical rage, even if the danceable music belies its presence.
Sometimes the criticism is broadly political ("Sweet Bird of Truth"), while
other times it is personal, as on "Twilight of a Champion" ("A shadow hunting
shadows / Of childhood life / It's all I want and all I miss / But how can I
return to a place that don't exist?"). Even "Slow Train to Dawn", which is
otherwise a dialogue between troubled lovers, contains hints of this larger
dissatisfaction with modern life: "I'm just another Western guy / With desires
I can't satisfy". The track is also notable because it features an appearance
by Neneh Cherry, who at that point had honed her skills in the Slits and Rip
Rig and Panic, but had not yet wowed the world with "Buffalo Stance".
Mind Bomb featured another huge talent, but one who had already made
his name: Johnny Marr, the influential guitarist and co-songwriter from the
Smiths. With the addition of Marr -- along with drummer David Palmer (ex-ABC)
and bassist James Eller -- The The became a functioning group for the first
time, and the renewed focus the new musicians bring to the project is
staggering. Mind Bomb not only avoids the dated musical gimmicks of its
predecessor, but stands as one of the few albums to successfully fuse the
sensual and political, pairing deep, sexy grooves with some of Matt Johnson's
strongest lyrics. Like Marvin Gaye's What's Goin' On, Mind Bomb
is equally effective as protest or make-out music, and it sounds just as
relevant today as it did a decade ago.
Several of the album's lyrics focus on the dichotomy between religious faith
and freedom of choice. There is a God, Johnson seems to be saying, but because
He has given us the intellectual freedom to interpret spirituality however we
choose, we've created religions that are more concerned with exclusion and
self-preservation than sympathy and morality. In light of the events of
September 11 and the ongoing conflicts in the Middle East, Johnson's lyrics on
"Armageddon Days (Are Here Again)" seem more relevant than ever: "God doesn't
belong to the Yankee dollar / God doesn't plant the bombs for Hezbollah . . .
Islam is rising / The Christians mobilising / The world is on its elbows and
knees / It's forgotten the message and worships the creeds". On "Good Morning
Beautiful" he wonders "Who is it? / Whose words have been twisted / Beyond
recognition / In order to build / Your planet Earth's religions?", growling
the words so they sound as much like a come-on as a philosophical query. On
"The Violence of Truth", the band fuses deep bass riffs and swirling organ
with an ugly vision of oppression: "And while the niggers of this world are
starving with / Their mouths wide open / What is it that turns the coins we
throw at them / Into worthless little tokens?"
Such bilious indictments of Western society are not the only thing the album
has to offer. If Johnson seems disgusted by modern politics, he seems equally
enchanted by the healing powers of love. "August & September" and the Sinead
O'Connor duet "Kingdom of Rain" are cathartic lamentations of dead
relationships, but the closing tracks, "Gravitate to Me" and "Beyond Love" are
celebrations of love's comforting pleasures. "You will come to me", Johnson
purrs on "Gravitate to Me", "To cuddle my flesh / And to quell the torrents /
In my subterranean depths". The religious themes of the previous songs
resurface on "Beyond Love", where spirituality is reconciled with humanity: "So
let us take off our crosses / And lay them in a tin / And let our weakness
become virtue / Instead of sin".
While both Infected and Mind Bomb are well worth the grand
re-packaging treatment they have been given, the latter stands as the more
relevant album. With its focus on songcraft and musicianship, it provides the
best showcase for Matt Johnson's ambitious lyrical vision, one which he
continues to pursue.
— 9 August 2002
