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This Is What You Want...

This Is What You Get

(Elektra)

by J. Kordosh

1 am surprised.

I am taken aback.

I am, in fact, at a bit of a loss.

Over the years I’ve come to enjoy John Lydon in much the same way I enjoy the Mariner photographs from Mars. Interesting stuff, you know. I’ll admit I never gave the guy a whole lot of thought. I figured he had a great sense of humor and a real flair for promoting himself. Plus,

I got a real kick out of the way he ripped off his record company. I liked some of his music, but we’re talking about an amazingly deep critic here—I like “Eye Of The Tiger” and “Human Nature” and remember artists like Gary Puckett and Bobby Sherman wistfully.

But now I am reformed.

On This Is What You Want, Lydon has established himself as perhaps the premier voodoo noisemaker extant. It isn’t as much an album as it is a bully. With Martin Atkins’s non-stop tom-toms providing an almost tortuous backdrop, Lydon lays down some of the most indecipherable whining anyone’s ever likely to record. It’s scary and it works.

The initial track, “Bad Life,” sets this album’s unforgiving pace. It’s unlikely anyone will have the stamina to transcribe the lyrics, but nuggets of transcendentia — e.g., “Big business is very wise”—seep through quite matter-of-factly. And when Lydon goes on and on and on with the album’s title, the comparison to Thunderclap Newman—but a saner and therefore more despicable Thunderclap Newman—is inescapable.

Other comparisons are equally obvious. This is, primarily, a rhythm album loaded with synth-bass, and the listener is strongly tempted to liken several bass intros to the Doors. Which is not to say that PiL’s work here is derivative, but that it’s strongly reminiscent of some very good music. You might stifle a scoff to see Lydon listed as the album’s violinist, but it turns out he scrapes that fiddle passably (and screechingly) well. “Where Are You” could easily be in heavy rotation on some folk station on Neptune.

Perhaps most pleasing—not to mention intolerably cynical, hateful, depressing and whatever else the Thompson Twins aren’t—is “The Order Of Death,” the disc’s grand finale. If you had this played at your funeral you’d probably take a good portion of your family and friends six feet down, the irascible Mr. Lydon reminding them that “...This is what you get,” just in case they haven’t listened to the other seven songs.

This is—obviously—a hard record to listen to. It offers not a whit of cheer—outside of Lydon’s clearer lyrics—and positively no hope at all. It insults and degrades the listener, but it doesn’t cheat you. Given what’s going on, it’s an album-length “59th Street Gloom Song.” Doo da doo doo, we’re chumps and chickens.

I suspect this may very well be the album of the year. And, even if it’s not, it’s sure as hell what you get.

BILLY SQUIER Signs Of Life (Capitol)

You may have seen the print ads for this one: big pic of The Artiste lookin’ like a wino in pseudo-M.D. drag while, above his head in large type, the Indiana Jones rip-off tag line teases “IF ROCK AND ROLL HAS A NAME...,” followed by “BILLY SQUIER” in even larger type at the bottom.

Of course, you’re supposed to make the mental connection between both lines, despite the fact that the key (and incriminating) word “it’s” is missing (hey, ain’t nobody gonna nail Capitol Records on a false advertising charge here).