Wednesday, November 23, 2011
I don't like to throw the word genius around lightly. Mostly because I aint got nowhere to throw it, but I discovered a little nugget of gold recently that is, like, simply great. I have been a fan of Luke Haines since the first time I heard his first Auteurs recording. The man is so smart and so tuned on it kinda scares me. There's this whole line of great 20th century art that Haines is keeping alive. It's subtle but once you trace it all back it is so important.I followed Haines through all the Auteurs records, the black Box recordings and the Badder Meinhoff dabblings, but its his later solo stuff that really hits the spot. Especially this new meditation on the lives of 1970s British wrestlers. When Haines talks about egg and chips at the transport cafe he aint talking about a nosh up at the little chef anymore than Hemmingway was talking about fishing and hunting. It's all this great metaphor about what jolly old Enlgand used to be and what it is now. I reckon, Haines, having a little nipper growing up is reflecting on his own upbringing, what made him tick as a youngster. Luke Haines' latest album is simply the finest recording I will ever have the joy of listening to this year.