Release

If you’re reading this on the Thursday we publish, it’s exactly 16 years to the day since the Pet Shop Boys released their first album. At that time, the teaming up of the effete ex-Smash Hits editor and the moribund Depeche Mode ivory-tinkler seemed like a strange one. Yet, at the height of the Iron Lady’s reign, the PSB were the band who may have been invited to the party, but chose to stand in the corner and scoff at the gaucheness of the other guests.

The sexuality of Neil Tennant was a pivotal factor in both sound and lyric. Only a queen could pirouette among the glitteratti while at the same time alluding to the dark, piss-stinking side streets that are so very, very close to London’s golden mile. Only a queer could out-camp Madonna and then sing of suicidal loneliness in the next breath.

Picking just a selection of hits from the band’s back catalogue – ‘Suburbia’, ‘Rent’, ‘Domino Dancing’ and ‘Being Boring’ – note Tennant’s baldly confessional style and economic use of phrase, Chris Lowe’s phenomenal grasp of melody and a wicked sense of humour on behalf of both members, all of which made PSB among the most enduring of ’80s acts.

But they’ve been less than successful of late.

The ’90s albums Disco, Bi-Lingual and Nightlife failed to capture the public imagination and despite well-received collaborations and a hit West End show under their waistbands, it seemed to many, including this reviewer I confess, that their glory days were behind them. Oh, how wrong we were.

Release has been touted as a departure from PSB’s established sound, featuring the guitar work of one Johnny Marr at centre stage on all but two tracks. In fact, this is a quintessential Tennant and Lowe album and among the best of their creations.

Opener ‘Home and Dry’ is a beautiful chug-a-lug love song built around the best bass line since The Police’s ‘Every Breath You Take’. It will surely have re-mix producers fighting it out with broken Christal bottles in every studio in Europe.

‘I Get Along’ is an almost Beatles-esque number that could teach Noel the difference between ‘influence’ and ‘larceny’, featuring, not surprisingly, Johnny on guitar. Incidentally, Marr’s guitar throughout is the best he’s done since The Smiths. For proof, check out ‘Love Is A Catastrophe’ and compare with ‘Last Night I Dreamt Somebody Loved Me’.

It’s track six before we’re in what’s become the expected playground of PSB these days, ‘The Samurai In Autumn’ – despite its terrible title – being a punchy, hands-in-the-air house number. ‘Home’ also has an electro accent to the fore with Tennant sounding like Al Green on E, the sort of bizzare concept that only this band could get away with.

‘The Night I Fell In Love’ is a (possibly) tongue in cheek look at backstage action, while closer ‘You Choose’, while among the less affecting tracks on the album, remains a classic Tennant lyric.

Rumours of a tour are rife at the time of going to press – those who remember their late ‘90s visit to The Point, with its ever-changing stage sets and cast of dozens, might be disappointed by tales of stripped-down production. But take heart. The songs remain the same.