Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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5 of 6 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Outstanding, 13 Nov 2004
The Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster are the best British band of the moment - fact. Forget the lazy retread of garage rock provided by the insipid, commercially friendly NME favoured bands that dominate the airwaves - this is REAL rock and roll. Their debut album Horse of Dog restored my passion for music with it's dramatic 25 minute aural assault. The band quickly became my favourite, and their incendiary live shows only strengthened my love and admiration for them. The Royal Society has now tattooed their genius onto my very soul. Inventive, surreal, obstreperous, sexy, dark, catchy, and above all brilliant - no music lover should be without everything they have ever commited to CD and vinyl.
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3 of 4 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Not much need be said... except for., 28 Oct 2004
By A Customer
My review of this album is pretty much reflected in the reviews that have appeared in leading music publications, newspapers etc.
The Royal Society is spectacular and by far the most interesting British album of the year. Damn all your Snow Patrols to hell because this album has already been there and is back to tell the story.
The album opens with Rise of the Eagles which also is the most recent single. The song is divided into three parts which repeat themselves throughout the song. The main reason why it is so easy to dissect the song into three elements is because each one of these elements is so damn spankingly good. Whereas other songs by other bands just sound like some lukewarm dirge, each part sloppily flopping into each other like faeces in a portaloo. There is no such sloshy business on The Royal Society, although there is plenty of vulgar material available. Perhaps the most complained about issue with their debut album was not only its brevity, but also some people found it too hard to distinguish the songs. The songs were not at fault, each being individual enough and with a strong enough melody to stand alone. Yet the first album sounded like a band on hyper-speed scared that if they didn't say all that they wanted in the shortest possible time then peoples interest may have waned. The Royal Society works upon the success of the first album by turning around almost completely. There are still speedy punk affairs to be had, but there are also much more pared back areas. The distortion is turned down, the screaming subsides, the drums cease their tribal lunacy. This cutting down on speed and noise does not decrease the sense of anxiety and unbridled power. The feeling is intensified, the music becomes eerier, Guy's vocals become a Morrisson-esque, baritone drawl. The apparently new found power (playing to lose) in being capable of turning everything down and still creating the same ferocity of old, this shows the growth of a band, playing dark in the light when they used to play dark in the dark.
All of this transition is helped immensely by the highly stylized song names and lyrics.
I have not really touched upon any of the songs individually, save for the opening track. This is because they really need to be heard first instead of being dissected before that hearing.
All in all if this review has been somewhat illegible probably reflects on the record. The Royal Society can deeply manifest many feelings, which as the best art goes can not really be touched upon except inside the self, the soul if you will.
The album has worked well for me, I suppose if you want the true meaning you should seek out the band and ask them personally.nb. I have not read through this so apologise for wrong spelling, grammar, punctuation etc.
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1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Guitar, Guitar, Guitar, Guitar..., 28 April 2007
Ploughing ever-forward with my habit of getting into bands well after doing so is to be considered cool - and honestly, given music press ****rags like the NME, who can blame me? - I bought this album in 2007, three years after its much-celebrated release. At the time I was only (very vaguely) familiar with one of their songs, opening track and single Rise of the Eagles. Whereas that song, as well as sing-along efforts like When I Hear You Call My Name and Dancing Girls are decent enough efforts, it's in its latter half that the brilliance of The Royal Society comes to the fore.
The album unleashes its full range upon the unsuspecting listener from track seven onwards, with stand-out tracks like The Fool, with its noble rock 'n' roll simplicity; decidedly wonky but heartfelt appeal for love/blood, I Rejection; obvious single choice, Mister Mental; gothic rock song Freud's Black Muck; and surprisingly effective half-ballad Temple Music. It's with song like these that these guys show us exactly what they're capable of.
Even though those songs mentioned are of a very high standard, it's stomping, guitar-ridden, Mcluskyite (not a real word, but high praise all the same) finale The Way of the Men of the Stuff that blows everything else out of the water. It also proves beyond reasonable doubt that the Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster are at their best when playing VERY, VERY LOUD.
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