"It's like a pub in
'ere, innit?" asks one astonished
usher to her colleague after a tiring
bout of Cornetto-peddling among
the leather-jacketed hordes.
Yes, hordes. The Psychedelic Furs are
convincingly popular despite what the
tirades of the music weeklies would have
you think. The Fur-seeking masses far
outnumber the Dominion (male) staff all
of whom are dressed in the most surreal
garb. Would you belived green
usher at the start of the review is still
bemused. "They're filing a b-movie
here, I gently reassure her, it's called The
Beat Group Invasion of the Picture Palace."
seen the Furs before. Going by the
records, of which I've the complete
collection and love the lot, I expected a
hard-nosed wall of raunch with a general
air of agression. Instead, I was
surprised by the softness of the whole
opening pair of 'Into You Like A Train'
and 'Mr Jones' lacked their recorded
punch but gained in depth and substance.
So often I've been aurally bombarded by
misused volume from bands whose records
are great but whose songs become an
indistinct blur live. The Furs, in
contrast, exercise a complete control.
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