I suppose it was inevitable that someone would pick a Mick Head album. And, true to type, it was almost equally as inevitable that amongst the posts extolling his genius, there'd be some dissenting voices.
Whatever I may think of him, he's earnt an adoring army of loyal fans who can forgive his crises and calamities. They were there for his arrival and have remained with him in the lean spells, his songs carrying them through.
More power to him and them.
He's also assumed a position where people who were playing 'Now That's What I Call Music' albums in '84 now pretend to have liked him from the start. Again, more power to him, although perhaps not them. Cult status is no mean feat, even if it can mean occasional years of poverty.
I don't get it.
I've tried. Listened to him a few times. Gone back to give second and third chances. But it just sails by me.
It feels a very disjointed record. It's a bit all over the place. Bongos and Spaghetti western horns, songs that lurch from sitcom theme to timeshare advert soundtrack. That poor man's Phil Spector schtick that seemed to obsess early 80s Liverpool.
The Love influences ooze from every pore. Not the greatest foundation. Arthur Lee is another artist whose enduring appeal is lost on me.
And then there's his voice. You don't have to be able to sing to be a good singer. But you do if you want to write songs that need a good singer. He just isn't one.
We've always been a broad church on here. I'm sitting out communion on this one.....
