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No. 10 - Inheaven - s/t (Pias) Okay, a tie with Alan Vega - It ... SPEW's top 10 countdown

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(Steven J Wilson)
It’s a big, blustery sound south London’s InHeaven make. A sound sonically descended from the buzz of the late Eighties, sometimes like Jesus and Mary Chain, sometimes Nirvana, or even Smashing Pumpkins and all that shit. 

 What I mean is, you can’t imagine this particular sonic blast, given aesthetics and technology, before the late Eighties. It’s already dated, right? At least in this age of indie retro-twee and hip-hop. But that’s part of its audacity. Brazen in its’ sheer rock-is-bloody-king quality. Suck on it. 


 Julian Casablancas likes them. He released their “Regeneration” single on his Cult Records label. 
A proper RAWK band - look at them!
Little Steven likes them. He’s been blasting their bracing, horn-adorned track “Baby’s Alright” on the Underground Garage. 

 When I first heard "Baby's Alright" on the radio, I thought - wtf … is this some strange lovechild of the Small Faces and Cheap Trick? It is, sorta. And it’s also rocking to the max. Moments of dream-pop respite, like “Do You Dream,” soften the blow, but for the most part this is a blast from the hard rock past. Bassist Chloe Little and guitarist James Taylor (ha ha ha) share and trade vocals - hers an anomic purr, his Brit-pop sincere, but the guitars never lose their snarl, or the rhythm section its punch.  


If I had guilty pleasures, I suppose this could be one. But I don’t. This record is a fucking blast of fresh air at eight miles per hour on a cool, grey day. No apologies necessary.
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The resurrection of Peter Perrett

(Steven J Wilson)
Back in the day, one of the little thrills of working at Kief’s (it was a record store, eh) was opening the boxes from an import distributor like Jem and rifling through the fresh forty-fives from the U.K. Having seen a listing for a single by a new group called the Only Ones that sounded appealing, I included it on an order in 1977.   Released on the band’s own Vengeance label, it was a curious packaging, a black sleeve with a grainy black and white photo on one side, depicting a band of mismatched misfits, including guitarist John Perry in a form-fitting, less than flattering fishnet onesie. Front and center in the photo, as he was on stage and in the studio, was a young songwriter named Peter Perrett - tousled hair, dour expression, black sleeveless shirt.   This is curious, thought I.   Quickly “Lovers of Today” went to the turntable for audition.   It was one of those moments. Everything about it was perfect. Great intro, a sinister a-part, decorate...
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