Amazon.co.uk Review
"You either love or you despise, there's just no room for compromise" spat Anglo-French bassist Jean-Jacques Burnel on "Burning Up Time". And by the time of
No More Heroes--the Stranglers' second album--the battle lines were drawn between those (the press and the women's movement, mainly) who saw the future "Meninblack" as uncouth sexist pigs peddling aggressive punk Doors music and those for whom The Stranglers were a fantastically melodic, intelligent punk-rock combo, albeit one with a dangerously dry sense of humour and a swift-fingered, pipe-smoking keyboard player. The former had plenty to complain about: Elderly aunts up and down the land must have fainted the day an unwitting Dave Lee Travis played "I Feel Like A Wog" ("out on the dirty shitty jobs") on Radio One, so it's probably just as well they never got to hear the teacher-pupil relationship smut of "School Ma'm" (most unsavoury line--"disgusting behaviour, all over the parquet flooring") or the infamously rude "Bring On The Nubiles", which was chanted like testosterone-charged Daleks and featured the word "fuck" eight times. Musically, The Stranglers were on a roll--Dave Greenfield's use of Hammond organ and Moogsynth coupled with Burnel's sonorous belch of a bass and Hugh Cornwell's not-bothered vocal made them instantly recognisable. And at least half of
No More Heroes is every bit as good as
Rattus Norvegicus (in fact, most of the album was recorded at the same time). It's also the only Stranglers album to spawn two Top 10 singles, namely the gutteral call-to-arms of "Something Better Change" and the iconoclastic title track--a genuine rock classic.
--Kevin Maidment
CD Description
Punk's parents terribles, the Stranglers courted controversy throughout their early career. Caustic lyrics brought charges of misogyny, although the group suggested that outrage was merely part of the genre's tenet. They answered such criticism of their debut album with the even more uncompromisingNo More Heroes, a vengeful collection echoing the nihilism of its title. Role-playing apart, there was no denying a musical prowess compressing savage guitar, throbbing bass and swirling organ into vicious, driving sound. Hugh Cornwell's sneering intonation matched the aggression of his accompaniment, but the album also offered indications of the lighter pop style that the quartet would later follow.