August 18, 1998
Major Labels are evil. That much we already knew. But The Mystics have first hand knowledge of this most evident of truths....
5 / 10
MAJOR LABELS ARE EVIL. THAT MUCH WE already knew. But The Mystics have first hand knowledge of this most evident of truths.
Two years ago they recorded this album. Due to the intransigence of The Man, it is only just seeing the light of day. As Luke Haines might mumble into his cornflakes, "Life is unfair, kill yourself or get over it". He could just as easily have added, "Or find an accommodating indie label".
And when listening to 'Who's That Girl' zipping along jauntily on helium vocals, Rotator's motivations for rushing to the rescue seem pure. Especially when singer (and Supergrass producer) Sam Williams coughs up the odd tune that suggests that though he might not actually have been caught by the fuzz, he was definitely there on the back of the bus.
But, while it might hurt to find some sympathy for the devil, you can kind of see his point in leaving this in the vaults. Because The Mystics are a cult. And like most such shadowy affairs, it looks quite enticing from the outside (chums with Ride, that 'I Should Coco' connection), but once inside things take on a more sinister hue.
For most of this album is perched on the arse-end of Britpop, preparing to slip into an enthralment to the past. Cue 'Butterfly' with its Lord Of The Rings atmosphere and wah-wah addiction, or the yelping smack rock of 'See You', which ensure that even if this had been released when intended, it would still be teetering just on the wrong side of the benefit of the doubt.
Like all lost albums it can't help but fail to live up to its billing. For The Mystics two years has just proved too long.
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