THE PSYCHEDELIC FURS.

A Bob-Dylan-filtered-through-John-Lydon vocal rasp, backed by a collision of Low era-Bowie and the tribal rhythms of the Velvet Underground. How could I resist?

My friend Adam’s little brother Peter put me on to The Psychedelic Furs. He had their self-titled first album and taped it for me. I loved it so much I listened to it on repeat. The Psychedelic Furs (1980) was immediately infectious. First track ‘India’ sets the band’s stall out: the chiming guitars of the opening instrumental section create a late 1960s-style soundscape, then the pounding drums cut in to deliver a post-punk assault worthy of the Dead Kennedys.

An overall theme in the band’s lyrics is a sneering ambivalence towards women: Caroline, Alice, Marsha, Hamburger Mary… plus an equally jaundiced view of marriage. At the same time, the Furs could be bloody funny. ‘We Love You’ is simply a list of things vocalist Richard Butler likes, the best line being ‘I’m in love with the Factory / I’m in love with the BBC.’ The driving saxophone of Duncan Kilburn, and Byrdsian guitar of John Ashton, completed an engaging and irresistible sonic collage.

1981’s Talk Talk Talk was the Furs’ first masterpiece. Every song is a classic. Single ‘Pretty in Pink’ was justly celebrated, cynical observations of a girl who spent more time out of her clothes than in them. ‘Dumb Waiters’, ‘Mr Jones’, ‘Into You Like a Train’ and ‘I Just Wanna Sleep with You’ are the height of the Furs’ Mark 1 sound, while the plaintive ‘She is Mine’ is desperately sad and features Kilburn’s most affecting saxophone solo.

If you listen to the Furs’ albums in order, Forever Now (1982) marks the point where the band’s Da Da aggression became tempered by a more crafted pop sensibility, particularly with regard to Butler’s vocals. The Furs and producer Todd Rundgren were a match made in, um, heaven – witness the prowling eccentricity of ‘President Gas’, the goth romanticism of ‘Love My Way’ and the ‘Born to Run’-gone-synth-pop swagger of the title track. ‘Danger’ is one of the finest, unheralded alt rock singles of the era, all squealing saxophone and punchy brass, while ‘Sleep Comes Down’ is the closest the Furs ever came to being genuinely psychedelic.

On Mirror Moves (1984) Butler discovered love could be free from cynicism, which coincided with me falling in love for the first time. The brightly persistent synth riff of opener ‘The Ghost in You’ puts me right back in 1984, and the two nights I saw the Furs for the first time (at the Hammersmith Odeon). On the first, I was with the wonderful woman who became my wife and who, sadly, has now passed on. I’ll always associate Mirror Moves with that time, which means I can forgive the album’s patchiness. Side One rocks with the indie pop of ‘Ghost’, the ‘President Gas’ Part 2-vibe of ‘Here Come Cowboys’ and the club stomp of ‘Heartbeat’.  For obvious reasons, ‘Heaven’ has taken on sad, bitter-sweet connotations… Side Two, meanwhile, apart from ‘Alice’s House’ – left over from the Forever Now sessions – struggles to make any lasting impression.

It’s ironic that someone in the Furs camp thought that to conquer America, they should ditch everything that had made them distinctive in the first place. Midnight to Midnight (1987) isn’t a boring album, because Rolling Stones producer Chris Kimsey ensured there was so much going on in every one of the slender tunes. The only real song, though, is rabble rouser ‘Heartbreak Beat’, while the MOR re-recording of ‘Pretty in Pink’ is pretty much unforgivable. US domination didn’t land, although U2 and Depeche Mode took advantage of the same career path with, to be fair, LPs that were a helluva lot better.

Book of Days (1989) found Butler’s abstract lyrics married to a wall-of-sound guitar fuzz in search of a melody, with the overall effect being of a stately Jesus and Mary Chain (then at their height). By rights, this new direction shouldn’t have worked but it did, re-establishing the Furs as a cult band of integrity. Stand out cuts are the acoustic nostalgia of ‘Parade’ and the triumphant, not-dead-yet clatter of ‘House’.

Stephen Street, producer of indie darlings The Smiths, was brought in for 1991’s A World Outside. The Furs’ returning confidence surged on ‘Get a Room’, another classic acoustic lament, and premier single ‘Until She Comes’, which hit number 1 on US Modern Rock Tracks radio in September 1991. It was a bit of a surprise, then, that there wouldn’t be another Psychedelic Furs album for thirty years.

With only Richard and his brother Tim left from the Furs’ original line up, a new group of musicians completely revitalized the Furs’ creative sonic spirit. Made of Rain (2020) is twelve majestic, brooding, epic reflections on middle age, from opener ‘The Boy that Invented Rock and Roll’ to closer ‘Stars’. Throughout, the generous spaces in the sound allow room for all the instruments – guitar, keyboards, sax, drums – to transport you right back to the band’s early 1980s heyday.

Which, fittingly, is where I found out what true love was.

A man in my shoes runs a light
And all the papers lie tonight
But falling over you
Is the news of the day

For Rachel: 1962-2022