‘Let’s Burn The Internet Down’
(Cherry Red 2012)
As frontman and lyricist for, well, lets be honest, Division 2 punk band Eater, Andy Blade had a very early baptism of fire within the music industry.
Eater specialised in a robust glam punk racket enlivened by Blade’s literary and mature lyrics.
Let’s not forget, Eater were the youngest punk band of the first wave by a country mile. Drummer Dee Generate was 14 when at their peak and the band had to enlist parents to ink their record deal.
Memorably claiming that the Sex Pistols were “way too old” to represent the disenfranchised yoof of the UK they made headlines if not too many head-turning records.
Andy Blade’s autobiography of the times “The Secret Life Of A Teenage Punk Rocker” is a real hoot of a read.
Avoiding the situationist theorising and bleary-eyed myth-making of many of the punk tomes, it’s part coming-of-age suburban drama and punk era memoir.
Imagine, if you will, a speed-crazed Adrian Mole as an insider amongst the epochal late-70’s punk scene and all of its clique-y internal manouverings and you’re somewhere close.
Blade has taken his wordy talents and made a series of self-produced solo albums that leave the punk sound firmly in his rear-view mirror.
LBTID is short and snappy with 10 songs Blade refers to as his “scud-pop missiles” and that’s not a bad description.
Opener Comprehesive School is a vitriolic missive on the British education system which has searing guitar interplay not unlike late-period Clash.
The album is in parts, dense, multi-layered and ever-so-slightly psychedelic with whispered vocals and odd samples amongst the 12-string guitar and electric wig-outs.
Stand out track is Carbomb. Blade’s excoriating lyrics about the state of mainstream radio and his solution to it is wrapped in slashing guitar shrapnel.
There is something new in every listen and tracks such as the title track and Contract weave in and out, with a new wave meets Syd Barrett-era Floyd vibe.
Electrified is a lighter touch to close the album, with musings on relationships the theme.
Being a Scot, I’m ignoring the final bonus track which is about something or other that happened in 1966.
Blade is a man out of time and this is no bad thing. He’s making music for himself and a sense of catharsis fuels the record.
In many ways, this album is not unlike prime Luke Haines. Lightweight delivery mixed with vitriolic wordplay and energetic playing.
I like it a whole lot.
Not bad for the forgotten man of punk.