HEAVEN BORN AND EVER BRIGHT
by Stephen Dalton of the N.M.E.
Quintessentially English but utterly alien to all except certain species of barnacle, Cardiacs have been silent for yonks while various members drifted off to join Levitation and The Sea Nymphs. Stripped down, greying at the temples and uglier than East End gangsters, Tim Smith’s mental art-rock project still churn out their unique brand of turbo-charged whimsy with scarily psychotic gusto.
The aural equivalent of electro-shock therapy, Smith uses sheer brute force to bolt hugely incongruous melodic progressions together, shoving them up vertiginous gradients and through convoluted labyrinths at breakneck speed. Sometimes, as in ‘Goodbye Grace’ or ‘Body’s Bad’, these scorching tempo changes and explosive chunks of noise emulate the clenched-teeth mania of the Pixies. More often they sound like a pit-head brass band attempting to play full-steam punk rock in a gale. But nothing ever strays far from the anthemic, which explains much of their oddball appeal. Indeed, this collection’s finest moment rejoices in the flag-waving title ‘Home of Fadeless Splendour’ and would easily qualify as the rousing battle march of some bizarre totalitarian regime, a teetering wedding-cake of massed choirs and Wagnerian pomp.
Cardiacs do not try to be everything or cloud their unfashionable flakiness in muddle-headed murk. They are proud to be mottled, misshapen and crippled by self-loathing. It’s great to have them back.
(7/10)
Stephen Dalton