Menswear’s best moments recall Buzzcocks or early Jam. At their worst moments, it becomes apparent that Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet had an indelible effect.
nd is a beautifully haunting, haunted collection. Songs are treated with respect, but without the sycophantic reverence that makes most tribute albums bores.
The music is mostly your straightforward blues-based mid-’70s Noo Yawk kinda thang – sorta like the Dolls but with a real(?) woman belting out the vocals.
Nothing more than diluted Sergio Mendes vibes meshed with the excruciating Wonderbread funk of Level 42, largely considered the most hated band of all time.
A series of records devoted to power pop, which essentially means catchy, guitar-based, American-sounding pop tunes. It’s 21 of those songs – in a row.
Remember Curve? Well, chuck that wall of shoegaze haze, toss in a few funky beats (courtesy of producer Butch Vig) and you have a rough blueprint for Garbage.
A good cause does not necessarily make good music. An array of female artists (Aren’t men allowed to support the cause?) cover a buncha crap ’70s songs.
A spoken word reading of the first two chapters of Hell’s forthcoming book, is every bit as smack-soaked as Carroll’s Basketball … and Downtown Diaries,