| Admittedly
there are lots of stupid artists. Peter Murphy, however, is not one of them.
His old band, Bauhaus, made brainy but sinewy rock records that were embraced
by goths but which clearly had aspirations beyond such a niche market: albums
like In the Flat Field and Burning From the Inside quite audibly
wanted to be important. The aftermath of Bauhaus produced a number
of interesting things: the early retro-psych of Love and Rockets, the bizarro
dance of Tones on Tail, and the recombinant genetic manipulation of Bauhaus-rock
and Adult Contemporary that Murphy perfected with his single “Cuts
You Up.” The ex-Bauhaus people hung around, and they did their thing,
and then their time was done, and though there was a Bauhaus reunion a few
years ago, one hopes that they played to empty halls, because reunion tours
are just embarrassing. When a person participates in one, what he is usually
saying by doing so is that he has completely run out of interesting things
to say. (I certainly don’t remember John Lydon finally following up
on The Flowers of Romance in the wake of the Filthy Lucre tour.)
Wherefore I was pretty surprised this week, when, having picked up the new
Peter Murphy, I found that the album not only didn’t suck,but was
actually quite great. |