Album Review: The Pretenders, Hate for Sale

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” is a credo The Pretenders – aka Chrissie Hynde – have taken to heart. It’s not so much a formula as a guarantee – which is why it should come as no surprise that Hate For Sale is a little bit rock, a little bit pop, some R&B and just a soupçon of reggae.

With Stephen Street at the helm, and Hynde recording for the first time with her touring band of 15 years, the sounds are accountably live and raucous. And all gilded with the quavering and tremulous ache of Ms Hynde’s voice.

Never one to suffer fools gladly, there’s a special and particularly agonising rung of hell reserved exclusively for Chrissie’s exes. She takes potshots at some feckless fool on the title-track, while the ghost of James Honeyman-Scott can be plainly heard in the twangy guitar licks of ‘The Buzz’ – a sensation familiar to all those jonesing for a fix of them oul’ divil neurotransmitters.

Some spooky ska on ‘Lightning Man’, a sleazily strutting ‘Turf Accountant Daddy’, the blue-eyed soul shapes of ‘You Can’t Hurt A Fool’, and we’re almost out of here. After a final prayer for the lovelorn courtesy of ‘Crying In Public’, it’s thank you and goodnight. Overall, a wonderful effort.