9. The The - Mind Bomb (1989)


1. Good Morning, Beautiful
2. Armageddon Days Are Here (Again)
3. The Violence Of Truth
4. Kingdom Of Rain
5. The Beat(en) Generation
6. August and September
7. Gravitate To Me
8. Beyond Love

To take to the studio with him in the Autumn of 1988 in order to record the followup to Infected, The The's vocalist and sole constant member formed an actual band to cut songs with instead of an assembly of session musicians as he had done before (although string, horn and vocal overdubs were added later all the same). This band consisted of drummer Dave Palmer, bassist James Eller and some bloke called Johnny Marr on guitar. The resulting album remains without doubt one of the most ambitious and original mainstream works of the 80s. Here is where bandleader Matt Johnson takes the darkly-polished dance stylings of his earlier output and injects them with an air of theatricality, producing a slowly unwinding world of textured sound which brims with emotion. It's an album which owes no small favour to the hiring of the ex-Smith Marr, as well as a rock-solid rhythm section and as such a tight core unit which translates Johnson's musical imagination into some of the most evocative and radiant music ever recorded.

As the title may or may not suggest, there is a very sinister streak that runs thematically runs through the album. The fact that a song called Good Morning, Beautiful opens with what sounds like radio interference and ominous piano chords and horn arrangements illustrates this nicely, especially when after this slowly-building intro Johnson whispers the opening verse of 'I know that God lives in everybody's souls - and the only devil in your world - lives in the human heart'. On top of the dark, harrowing instrumentation and Johnson's musings on who 'turns your blood into spirit and your spirit into blood' is a very tense and surreal atmosphere to fit the political and religious concepts which dominate the album nicely. Such is the strength of this fabulous album.

Armegeddon Days Are Here (Again) takes the dark concept of the preceding track up a few notches, but this time finds Johnson singing of how 'if the real Jesus Christ were to stand up today, he'd be gunned down cold by the C.I.A' in more of a conventional song format than its predecessor, and is one of a few more danceable moments on the album, given its quick, pounding rhythm punctuated by Marr's funky guitar and overdubbed with the necessary strings and synth to bring out the foreboding theme of the song. The Violence Of Truth, as well as being a damn cool name for a song, carries this focus on dance rhythms over, boasting a kind of robotic percussive motif, fantastic bassline, terrific guitar-work and new wave-afflicted organ chords. At the album's more accessible section, it's another one which resembles The The's earlier output heavily.

From Kingdom Of Rain onwards (featuring the vocal talents of Sinéad O'Connor), the album's approach softens somewhat, with the lively rhythms stripped away to make way for a gloriously dark, midtempo slice of pop, where Marr's simple-yet-so-effective guitar brings out the sense of foreboding in the lyrics. The sole single release from Mind Bomb, the Beat(en) Generation, is another such tune, wherein beneath a melody-driven, glossy pop-rock exterior lies a paranoid, textured masterclass of songwriting.

August and September though sees Johnson's imagination running wild with a much more ambitious and experimental piece of work. Despite doing away with the political and religious lyrical themes, while this particular set isn't to be dismissed as a sappy love lyric in comparison, August and September lets the music do all the talking. It's a simply brilliant piece of finely-tuned and layered songwriting, propelled by Johnson's work behind the piano keyboard and underpinned by some sublime (though not intrusive) string and woodwind arrangements, with Marr's distant, distorted guitar and the tight rhythm section to fill in any gaps in the sonic picture. It's a darkly colourful, deeply evocative masterpiece of a song (in my opinion anyway - check the video and decide for yourself I guess).

The album then takes another twist in the gothic dance direction. Gravitate To Me is, then, a sister-song to Armegeddon... and the Violence Of Truth, in that it's another rhythm-oriented track with shades of funk about it which doesn't sacrifice the ambitious nature of the album as a whole. It is, needless to say, another fantastic song, and one which goes surprisingly well before Beyond Love, the dramatic, slow-burning album-closer. It seems a lot like the romantic calm after the storm of the music which precedes it, kinda like the sun shining through the rainclouds, as it builds from its lo-fi beginning to a beautiful climax.

It's quite simply the perfect end to a dark, complex and excellent definition of that vague term we see getting tossed around a lot - alternative pop. Theatrical, original, absolutely essential to any music fan, its standing as my 9th favourite album of all time is richly deserved.

And I'm finished.