Expectations. Regarding those who followed Bauhaus when they were together or during their torpor/limbo/undeath, an album of new material was likely to be met with such a culmination of expectations as to create a situation that is at the least problematic, and at the worst impossible. Consider a record whose sticker on its face purports, “The first studio album since 1983!” Some people reading this weren’t even alive yet.
For those who didn’t know Bauhaus and didn’t write obsessive love songs about Peter Murphy / see him perform live more than any other artist and scream like a girl in old footage of the Beatles / have a bunch of ankhs / read The Hunger, the only thing I can compare it to is the release of the Star Wars prequels. And we all know how those went over. (Or the Second Coming, but that might offend people.)
Bauhaus prove that they are still immensely talented overall, and I still rate Murphy as one of the most incredible vocalists and performers ever. But it’s not as if no time has elapsed. I’m just trying to put this Bauhaus in context. The main impression I get is that a lot of the record sounds like Love & Rockets—especially like Express and the hit-laden eponymous record—but with Peter Murphy singing. How could it not really? Three out of the four members of Bauhaus went on to be their own awesome band for the next two decades.
“Too Much 21st Century” sounds like Rockets with its '60s-style guitar and bass, especially in the harmonies of the choruses. The clever, catchy lyrics, which aren’t printed anywhere, list the pressures of modern society that we place on ourselves: we all want to be something better, but for what? “A better singer. A better actor. Better job. Better money. Better get her, better love her, better not.” We’ve become completely focused on the means to an end and find no satisfaction.
“Adrenalin” starts out and ends with Murphy muttering in German and maybe some different, arcane language. It’s another nod to Rockets, with super fuzz bass. Here, Murphy holds back and sings minimally, shifting on just a couple of notes. The lead guitar does more vocally than Murphy, whose parts are almost atonal.
With its pretty synthesizers, “Undone” sounds a little more like a Peter Murphy song he would have done solo or with his old Hundred Men band, except the bass line is so signature David J. In many places, Murphy’s vocals follow the most unusual lines. It’s almost as if he feels compelled to pick out the most un-catchy snatches of the music. And when he harmonizes with himself, the intervals are unexpected and almost seem incongruous. Interestingly, this effect lessens after a few listens.
“International Bullet Proof Talent” is more straightforward rawk, alternating minimal verses with chunky soulful/bluesy breaks. You’d be surprised to know that it sounds like Love & Rockets. One gets the idea that no one else is really going to be singing lead on the record. It’s too bad. The other members sing a bit on the choruses of this and other songs in a call and response manner, but if Daniel Ash or David J. sang, then it really would be a Love & Rockets song.
“Endless Summer of the Damned”—this is Bauhaus to me. While I don’t want to hold every song on the record up for comparison to old songs of Bauhaus, the style of “Rose Garden Funeral of Sores” comes to mind: quirky, unbridled, and noisy feedback. Murphy is visceral, vocalizing, caterwauling, yelping, and screaming. Kevin Haskins hits the hell out of the drums. Several vocal parts meet in counterpoint at the end of the song in a beautiful mess. This would be such a standout song live.
“Saved” begins with the languid tones of a haunting saxophone, always a standout when Ash plays it. Murphy shows off some of his beautiful vocal styles popular on his solo records. The piece is almost a cappella with just the tiniest amount of atmospheric sounds accompanying him, similar to the song “Socrates the Python” from Love Hysteria.
Another thing Murphy showcases here is his fondness for playing with microtones. To us mere mortals and dumb Westerners, this is the use of notes that aren’t quite part of our Do-Re-Mi scale. The bass gets jazzy and starts to play lead, accompanied by Murphy’s long, intoned notes that waiver between a note you knew existed and one you didn’t. Especially at the end of the tune, you can really appreciate his admiration of and skills with vocal styles (like Qawaali) that use the voice to commune with God.
The next song, “Mirror Remains,” starts seamlessly from the last; not that it is similar musically, but it definitely sounds like part of a pair in some way. The spoken words of the previous song lead right into Murphy’s half-spoken/half-sung part of the next, and the jazzy feel is expanded on. This song has an improvisational, jamming quality, complete with studio banter between the band members and even someone coughing. Least favorite sound on this song: some insane, whiney, whistling noise in the last couple minutes of the song. No thanks!
“Black Stone Heart” really grew on me. This is one song where everyone’s experiences since Bauhaus have really come together to make something that is naturally related to their roots together. Musically it’s snappy, even sort of poppy-feeling, like “Telegram Sam.” At first, this song was just bizarre and tuneless. The chorus sounded like someone who does not know how to whistle whistling any random notes that would come out of his mouth. Now, impossibly, it seems catchy and cheerful. When taken with this funny refrain, I think Bauhaus might be poking a little bit of fun of themselves and their disciples: “When my black is back and sea out of sight, I go there with my darkness, And go away white.” It’s sort of the antithesis of their entire persona.
The highlight for me of this record is “The Dog’s a Vapour.” It made me throw my fist in the air and proclaim, “Yes!” But then I read online it’s from a soundtrack appearance around 1998. It is gorgeous, goth, lush, and plaintive, with about eleventy billion Peter Murphy overdubs. At times, he is clearly showing off with some of that Tuvan throat singing, where a vocalist can sing one main note while simultaneously producing another, subtler overtone. Right when you want this song to go completely insane, it does with raw, blistering, crashing drums, screaming, primordial guitar, and Murphy’s otherworldly croon.
The poor last piece is almost a throwaway, no point after the climax of the penultimate song. Nice instruments, but when someone can sing like he did in that last song, this feels pointless. It would have been a fine secret track.
Bottom line: The Drab Four still got it, but give it a few listens, and leave your anticipation of the next goth anthem aside.
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