[a]Luke Haines[/a]’ band of merry men reappear after a lengthy sabbatical, during which Haines has spread his gift for turning misanthropy, if not quite into gold, then into cut-glass lyricism across both his [a]Baader Meinhof[/a] and Black Box Recorder subsidiaries. He’s even brought his fellow Recorders
on
board for this raid on your expectations. ‘The Rubettes’ appears, on the surface, to be a delightful, Rubettes-sampling lollop about listening to ’70s teen bands on the radio under the covers, lost youth, and the vision of hindsight. But, if we’re not mistaken, it’s actually about how much Luke hates nostalgia and sentimental claptrap. Hell, it
could
even be about geology. [I]”The future’s made of coal/The past is made of gold”[/I], Luke whispers like a child molester, “Where did the sad songs go?” To which we can only reply: Nottingham.
JAMES OLDHAM