Ooo look! There goes another hippy! And another one. Sitting in complacent circles on the floor, as if transported from some faraway mushroom field minus their acoustic guitars, comfortable people in uncomfortable surroundings. Christ knows, it took us nigh on ten years to rid ourselves of the last lot and now it’s upon us again, a nouveaux hippy generation amidst the grudging resentment of the Lyceum’s suffocating atmosphere. The music is almost a second consideration.
But the Thompson Twins survive. At one point, it appears that they, alone, are the only people in the entire miserable place to be enjoying themselves. They are spontaneous, effusive, and disarming. They out-bunny the Bunnymen.
Unfortunately, the Thompson Twins are as deeply drawn towards this mass new psychedelia as all the other fashion clowns. But they have the ability to transfer their music onto vinyl with a gentle freshness — their third single, “Perfect Game” is a good example — while, onstage, their wildly clashing guitar/bongo/drum sound puts paid to any posing or self-created affectation. A melee of music, they are the updated version of the old muso jamming session, a ghastly idea but one that works quite well in effect. It used to be called “doing your own thing” but, with a certain charm and a fairly solid guarantee against boredom, the Thompsons do it very well. There isn’t much to say about Delta 5. When they started out, I wanted so very much to like them but, in spite of all those healthy ideas, their music has never risen above that off-putting, two-note, Rough Trade-type experimentation and, being an (almost) old school rock hack, I like a bit of good music with my slogans. Delta 5, I’m afraid, push their message down my throat until I feel like choking and until they add a little seasoning in the form of melody, I’ll never be converted. Which is a pity.
Which leaves only U2, a band that can either be stunning or banal only, tonight, I’m not sure which way they’re moving. On a good day it’s plain to see that they’re everything that the Teardrop, the Bunnymen, and Wah! Heat would love to be. On a bad day, they appear to ooze pints of pretentiousness.
I still don’t think U2 have ever written anything to equal the grace and power of “11 O’Clock Tick Tock” — they always play it more than once, so maybe they agree with me — and though Boy had the passion to pull itself above many of last year’s albums, their songs do have a tendency to sound too similar for relief. It’s the U2 sound that’s compelling, a sound controlled for the most part by Dave Edge’s swooping guitar motions, rather than the individual portions of that sound. Therefore, while they can finely underline their subtle ideas on record, their live show can be pretty much of a muchness.
But U2 do award the Lyceum an atmosphere, a sort of new age “dancing in the aisles” atmosphere. Through the stretching strength of songs like “I Will Follow” and “A Day Without Me,” they can still reach out and touch their audience — albeit mentally — with something more tangible than a fashion or a style. Maybe they can halt the second coming of the Grateful Dead.
© 1981 Sounds. All Rights Reserved.