Julian Cope Saint Julian

Rip It Up, Issue 120, 1 July 1987, Page 23

Julian Cope Saint Julian

Island It's a crime that a band like the Teardrop Explodes is being ignored in favour of punk retrospectives and heavy metal revivals. A lot of musicians in 1987 are willing to tolerate rock’s cliches in order to rediscover some of its power, and they'd do well to recall that such calculated revivalism was the Teardrops’ forte. With songs like ‘Poison Gas, ‘Poppies in the Fields’ and ‘Great Dominions, they raised the public’s expectations of British pop to an unfair high. No one has replaced the Teardrops, Echo and the Bunnymen or Wah! They were better than unique — they were reliable, funny and clever. When the Teardrops disbanded, Julian Cope was left with the task of filling his own shoes. -

The shoes were a bad fit on his first solo attempt World Shut Your Mouth, and most were prepared to write Cope off as they'd done with Howard Devoto. But just when you thought it was safe to dance to the Pet Shop Boys — all hail the return of the Tantrum King. The singles, ‘Trampoline’ and the reissued ‘World Shut Your Mouth’ give a good foretaste of the album: thumping, bellicose rock with songbird vocals. Julian is at his height of caveman cleverness (“Well | push you kicking into my airtight machine / Fuel my love — I'm a big gas turbine”) and tightfisted funk (Planet Ride’ and ‘Eve’s Volcano)). The determined idiocy of a song like ‘Spacehopper’ (“I've got a spacehopper baby / But it’s strictly one-seater / You've gotta hold on baby / To my special feature”) is quite breathtaking. It's juvenile, yet the product of much experience. It's loose and stupid but beautifully crafted — like the rest of the album. Saint Julian is an apt title: its songs are 10 little miracles. While his contemporaries are floundering in 48-track surroundings, Cope has produced a music that takes nothing for granted. It's lean and purposeful, wasting no time. The beat is clean and gives the tunes room to move. Warne Livesey's production is neat and nasty. Cope is still young and foolish enough to pen songs like ‘Pulsar’ (“I've been away too long and I'm wondering why /| had to sell my world for a piece of pie”) but he delivers it with an old hand’s confidence. Tight, funny and strong, Saint Julian is one hell of a comeback. It proves that English pop is still worthwhile and that a record can still be worth its price tag. While RWP and The Tube are cataloguing mangy punk rockers youd do well to consider Julian Cope as the patron saint of here and now. Few have resurfaced from NME-land with such energy. :

Chad Taylor