Curiously, your reviewer has recently encountered a surprising backlash against ASH, suggesting that Downpatrick's finest are guilty of everything ranging from maintaining a fake teenage stance to writing production line pop every bit as guileless as their bete noires, WESTLIFE. One person even suggested they shouldn't even be allowed to release a singles compilation.
But why it should suddenly be open season on ASH seems puzzling, especially as this comprehensive 19-track compilation - all the A-sides in (very) non-chronological fashion - is certainly one of the better of these inevitable career compendiums.
So basically this is a great, sod the begrudgers effort, underlining the fact that - a propensity for reckless hedonism aside - ASH have continually proved their mettle long after their detractors predicted their use-by date would come up.
This writer must admit he was initially sceptical of ASH, too, believing the youthful fizz of early WEDDING PRESENT-shagging singles "Jack Names The Planets", "Petrol" and the lumbering, but lovely "Uncle Pat" (now rescued from that damn Heineken advert set in Prague) would wear off.
However, the cool, Jackie Chan homage "Kung Fu" - the one thing here that does succumb to those nagging RAMONES comparisons - was ASH's first truly great single, ushering in the likes of "Girl From Mars", the doe-eyed "Oh Yeah" and "Goldfinger"s chugging menace. All were diamond-hard examples of Tim Wheeler's growing stature as a songwriter and - when aligned to the chart-straddling debut LP, "1977" - ASH looked like a potential colossus come 1997.
Despite the arrival of second guitarist Charlotte Hatherley, ASH's second album "Nu-Clear Sounds" was fraught with difficulties, lost significant ground and nearly bankrupted the band in the process. A cold blast of hindsight renders the singles from this period strangely heroic now, however. "Wildsurf" injects extra punky vigour to the song's (yeah!) surf-pop tendency and Rick McMurray's VENTURES-style drumming; "Jesus Says" marries perpetual motion riffing to cocksure abandon despite the world-weary lyrics and prominent "don't get nothin' for free" advice in the chorus and "Numbskull"s sleazy, STOOGES-influenced attack remains surprisingly effective.
|
Pop's notorious rumour mill had already dismissed ASH by the time they were due to deliver their third album, "Free All Angels", but the clutch of singles unleashed from it re-etablished ASH as a commercial force and rightly so, as the likes of "Burn, Baby Burn" and "Shining Light" - invested with improved production - once again proved that Wheeler and co had little to fear in the crunching, Buzzcock-ian guitar pop stakes.
Your reviwer's one main reservation here, meanwhile, would be the less-than-successful hijacking of THE WALKER BROS/ BACHARACH & DAVID'S "Make It Easy On Yourself" to create "Candy." The one forced, cynical moment here; it falls horribly flat, although the orchestrally-aligned "There Is A Star" banishes the taste from your mouth and shows the dreaded Blobby Williams how to succeed at this kind of schtick.
OK, so there's virtually nothing groundbreaking or envelope-shoving about this thrilling 75-minute retrospective, but then isn't it just a little bit ridiculous to expcet all our finest bands to be churning out their equivalent "Sgt.Pepper"s after only three albums?
No, "Intergalactic Sonic 7"s is a (teenage) riot; a fine body of work that most groups would hock their Marshall stacks for and represents a candle that still has plenty of time left to burn at both ends.
Keep your seatbelts fastened then. This mission's still got plenty to accomplish. (9/10)
|
