Live At The Witch Trials (1979)
I nodded my head to the opener, shook my head at it, then nodded again: This is instantly familiar, pretty traditional, like early Pulp but with metallic scratched guitars above tight rhythms. The mad, frenzied lyrics are weird and quotable.
Fave Track: ‘No Xmas For Johnny Quays‘
Best Smithism: “I spend hours looking sideways/To the time when I was sixteen”
Muddier than the debut and better for it. Production like corduroy trousers rubbing against damp corrugated cardboard in a rusted bin. No sparks, just wet friction and dread like being followed home by a stumbling drunk. I really like it.
Fave track: ‘Flat Of Angles‘
Best Smithism: “Do all these musicians have a social conscience? Well, only in their front room”