142 of 151 people found the following review helpful
Glass shattering moon eyed hippy makes genius album? Yep.,
This review is from: Hounds Of Love (Audio CD)
Picture this. An ordinary Thursday evening in the late 1970’s about to be thrown into the realms of the bizarre by- of all things- Top Of The Pops.
In what I strongly suspect was a Laura Ashley nightie a mad haired hippy chick with eyes as big as saucers does a twirly whirly dance under some trees in a cold damp park and unleashes the most unearthly noise- four minutes of Victorian melodrama splattered with Pink Floyd guitars and vocals that made the dog whine. Then, leaving me stunned, confused and just a bit scared, she’s gone, leaving me to my Clash albums.
Kate Bush. Wuthering Hights. Bloody hell. That, for me, was her early career.
Fast forward to the mid 80’s, and then, from out of the blue (Ms Bush having dropped off my music radar as if she’d been taken back, in a glowing paisley UFO drawn by pre-Raphaelite Angels riding unicorns, to Planet Odd) came The Hounds Of Love. And she stunned, confused and scared me all over again. This didn’t sound like Husker Du or the Jesus And Mary Chain- this was songs about clouds, things hiding in trees, doing deals with God and a whole side that was that dread thing- A Concept. Run away! Had we not fought the Punk Rock Wars to rid the world of such indulgence, to ensure we could have a life free of ‘song cycles’ or (shudder) ‘Rock Operas’?
The Hounds of Love is split down the middle. All the famous stuff huddles on side one (Cloudbusting- yoyos, rain machines and big black cars, Running Up That Hill- God, desire and lust, Big Sky- tribal myths and clouds that look like Ireland, Hounds Of Love- fear, foxes, throwing shoes into lakes. All your usual subjects for pop songs.)
Side two is where you feel Kate Bush really lets go- a nine song cycle about… errr… someone drowning? The afterlife? Buggered if I know, but ( and here the ghost of my snotty punk youth turns in it’s leather jacketed grave) it’s just wonderful, despite the presence of those foul relics of the 1980’s, the fretless bass guitar and Fairlight sampling computer.
Mad, strange, pretentious, self indulgent and utterly, utterly wonderful. A work of art and one of the most remarkable records EVER.
She’s never done anything as good as this since. But there again, who else has?
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Showing 11-12 of 12 posts in this discussion
Posted on 28 Jan 2013, 22:41:50 GMT
great review of the best album by a female artist ever (by some distance).
Posted on 2 Jan 2017, 01:38:22 GMT
Wished I could say it like that :) ...ooh the 'mad haired hippy chick doing a twirly whirly dance, unleeshes...' Fantastic review!!