As the follow-up to the much acclaimed Mind Bomb LP, The The's sixth studio effort, Dusk, found Matt Johnson (and his varying crew of marauders) carving one of his most accomplished products to date. Dusk leaves behind the infected dance beats that served as the framework for many of his previous albums and replaces them with steamy acoustic-based rhythms that shimmer with red-orange warmth, while the guitar work of Johnny Marr adds a touch of otherworldliness, without which the record would have been left to stand alone on its strange blend of honky tonk gospel pop. Johnson's songs seem to be mostly uplifting tromps through standard subjects ranging from love to happiness to helpfulness -- while presented with over-the-top emotional grandeur ("Love Is Stronger Than Death," "Helpline Operator," and MTV "hit" "Dogs of Lust"). As quality reigns through these songs, the tempo can become overbearing and, to solve that issue, Johnson shifts gears on the B-side to include some partially downtrodden numbers ("Bluer Than Midnight," "Lung Shadows"). In the end, he points out (with an under-the-radar approach) that the songs and the major concept of the album are not so much rooted in the joy of love, but in the approaching darkness of loneliness and seclusion just around the corner. [The Sony reissue offers 24-bit digitally remastered sound.]
Infected's sound still suggests dance-pop, especially on the title track. But don't get the impression that it's made for dancing. Instead of the light fare displayed on Soul Mining, Infected's songs seethe instead of preen, and Matt Johnson's lyrics are laced with tension. Thematically, he plunges a lance into the exposed midsection of Great Britain, analyzing the state of modern urban life in the country. "This is the land where nothing changes," Johnson sings on the World Party-ish "Heartland." "A land of red buses and blue bloody babies/This is the place where the hearts are being cut from the welfare state." "Angels of Deception" matches rain-slicked verses to a powerful chorus flavored with gospel backup singers and enormous reverb percussion. With production tricks like this, Infected aligns itself with the dance-pop sound of its predecessor (and the prevailing sound of British pop music at the time). But there's no denying the record's acerbic lyricism or dark-toned instrumentation. "Sweet Bird of Truth" is gritty pop tinged with wartime radio chatter and muscular horns that somehow manage to be apocalyptic, and the sweaty finale "Mercy Beat" has a drink with the devil while dance-pop burns brightly in the background, sending embers into the London night sky. Synthesized horns and crashing drums converge around a mirthful Johnson lyric before the song finally fades to the weird tones of a looped guitar. Infected was the first true indication of Johnson's mercurial nature, and established the dissonance and reinvention of his later work
The The is a great band name that used to refer to one guy, Matt Johnson, who enlivened drum machines with his raw piano and gravelly vocals on the 1984 classic debut Soul Mining. But now the The is an all-star New Wave lineup featuring former Smiths guitarist Johnny Marr, bassist James Eller and former ABC drummer Dave Palmer. And in many ways, Mind Bomb lives up to the just-jeans-and-a-T-shirt image that Johnson and company seem to be trying to project. Palmer's trap kit is so fresh, puncturing the Hammond organ on "The Violence… Read More of Truth" and laying down a "Ballroom Blitz"-like beat on "Armageddon Days Are Here (Again)," that it sounds like he's in your living room. "The Beat(en) Generation" and "Kingdom of Rain" (a duet with Sinéad O'Connor) also have a homespun feel. But just as Tin Machine seems like a David Bowie album, Mind Bomb is still very much Matt Johnson's record. His mug hogs the album cover, his maniacal whisper is ubiquitous, and he wrote all of the songs except the best one, "Gravitate to Me," which he wrote with Marr. "Gravitate" is aggressive, not didactic, but left to himself, Johnson can get pretty preachy. Every good lyric ("If you think Jesus Christ is coming/You got another thing comin'") is nullified by a dumb one ("If the real Jesus Christ were to stand up today/He'd be gunned down cold by the C.I.A."). Nevertheless, Mind Bomb is a step in the right direction. "Beyond Love" is Johnson's most beautiful song ever. It's just that forty-five minutes of God, love and war make this album's title just a bit too apt.