Pros: A bold look at the walking dead, elephantine groupies, Irish criminals, and dumb punks.
Cons: After this album, they ceased to be of any importance to moi.
The Bottom Line: PiL's most challenging release; it is probably the most experimental disc I own. It is the sound of a scared mind trying to spread its contagion.
pyfr's Full Review: The Flowers of Romance by Public Image Ltd.
The guys in Public Image Ltd. could never be accused of writing their first three albums for the dollar sign. On second thought, I guess it would be the pound sign, since they're English. No no no baby please don't go, they weren't even trying to cash in on the popularity of the burgeoning New Wave movement, which was putting some serious change in the pockets of countless other British bands. They were trying to make an artistic statement or something, and that's why nobody cared to listen.
Now, it should come as no surprise that the singer of Public Image Ltd. (PiL from here) was none other than Johnny Rotten (John Lydon from here), the same sneering English twirp that handled the microphone for the Sex Pistols. If you read my review for "Second Edition", and I know you did, you are familiar with my opinions on that disc AND their first one. One was an almost unlistenable piece of genius, while the other sold on eBay for about $5, no reserve, $1.50 for shipping.
Their third go round in the studio produced an album that might even exceed "Second Edition", which just ain't no simple thing to do, y'all. Whereas "Second Edition" (known as "Metal Box" to musical sophisticates) bled images of death and physical violence, "Flowers of Romance" hits the listener on the psychological level. It is just pregnant with feelings of revulsion, dread, and disappointment. It is in some ways a darker listen, since "Second Edition" at least had a little disco shake-a-boom to it. "Flowers of Romance" doesn't even feature a bass guitar, and that alone would send a Red Hot Chili Pepper fan running for his life.
Some personnel changes occurred between the second and third albums, most notably the departure of bassist Jah Wobble and the addition of drummer Brian Atkins (he would later go on to play in Killing Joke and Ministry, among others). Still on board was guitarist/keyboardist/smack addict Keith Levene, and of course, Mr. Lydon himself.
Just a little additional if pointless background info for you. "Flowers of Romance" was the name of a band that Sid Vicious used to be in, before he joined the Sex Pistols and helped ruin their American tour with his hungry veins. I think, but wouldn't swear in a court of law, that Siouxsie and Marco Pirroni (Adam Ant's guitarist) were also involved. Maybe not, though. So does that mean that this album is a tribute of sorts to the late Sid Vicious? I see nothing that would suggest so, but you can believe whatever you want, pal. You always will anyway.
That is definitely NOT Sid on the cover, that brunette chick with the freaky eyes and the flower in her mouth. She kind of scares me, and I know that has everything to do with the music, and nothing whatsoever with her charming face. If I would've met her somewhere else, it may have worked between us. But not after she put her face on this diabolical item, staring all psycho-like.
The first taste you'll get of "Flowers of Romance", provided you don't go jacking with the Skip Track button, is "Four Enclosed Walls". Starting with what sounds like a robot scratching his rear-end, the song centers around an unusual beat and weird sound effects that wiggle in and out. There's not even music on it per se, just drums and fuzz. It's a cool rhythm though, and Lydon decorates it with a wailing, Middle Eastern-ish melody that deposits words like "Saracen", "ghost", "doom", "mosque", and "infidel" at your mental doorstep. If I were a thinking man, and I'm not saying I is, I'd be inclined to tell you that the song is about Islam. But maybe it just looks like a Muslim until you tear away the veil and find that it's really about Buddhism. A very off-the-wall way to start the album.
Then there's "Track 8", one of my favorite tunes on here. Begins with some strumming on something, disjointed keyboard noises, then slides into a hypnotic melody and a drum beat that just doesn't sound correct. No, I'll say it again- there is something definitely wrong with that drum pattern. Did they sample something incorrectly? Did the drummer have dysgraphia? And furthermore, why does it work? Lydon's brief set of lyrics here might be about a sexual encounter with a groupie who repulses him. My mind is generating images of a seedy basement, with a scummy mattress in the corner, and a Roseanne Barr look-alike "spreading her body, naked and silly" and "batting her eyelids". The nicest thing Lydon can say about her is that she is a "bulbous heap" and a "butterball turkey". Man, I am so turned on, I just might have to finish this review later.
OK, I'm back. Now we're up to "Phenagen", which I think is a weight loss drug. Much has been mentioned by reviewers elsewhere about the Arabic sound of this album. Alas, I must agree 'tis so. This number resembles something one might hear while strolling through the markets of Marrakesh, with bells clanging, gongs banging, and Sheikh Lydon straining to hit the notes as he's calling someone "an ostrich- bury your head in the sand". There's stuff being plucked and other noises occurring, and it's dark and beautiful. Can't really pin down it's meaning though.
The title track opens with a simple beat being played on the tom-toms, and also has its share of Eastern noises. How this charted in Britain, I'll never know. Maybe somebody got paid off. It's groovy, but only in the most abstract way. Lyrically, it seems to me that Lydon might be going on about disappointment; his attempts to be a romantic guy have failed. There could be something more profound at work, and I would love it if one of you could learn me the real point here.
Then we come to one of the most frightening songs I've ever heard. Call me a wuss, but it is very hard for me to sit around in the dark with headphones on and listen to it without leaping for the nightlight. It's called "Under The House", presumably because that's where the narrator sees a cadaver going and/or coming from. Musically, it's a percussive assault, with drums a-thunderin' away. There are little keyboard blips here and there, and an eerie orchestral swell once or twice that just heightens the horror movie aura. Lydon's voice sounds like it's coming from over a walky-talky, and the words just paint out the scariest damn scene imaginable. There seems to be real fear in Lydon's voice, and I have a mental picture of a man standing in a yard on a moonlit night, with the wind blowing through the trees and something taking place before him that is impossible to imagine. The muffled speaking voice or whatever in the background doesn't make me feel any safer. One of the most nightmarish songs I've ever heard, right up there with Wire's "Practice Makes Perfect", The Creatures' "Don't Go To Sleep Without Me", and Human League's "Don't You Want Me Baby". Chilling.
You'd think after giving the listener a panic attack with the last song, Lydon and his crew would at least give us a hug and a happy little pop number. Not so; instead, we are handed an instrumental called "Hymie's Him" that has more banging, beating, and highly unorthodox keyboard playing. It manages to keep the fear level up there while setting the stage for the next song, one in which he savagely attacks his own disciples.
I stand corrected about the bass guitar- I'm pretty sure there is one being played on "Banging The Door". It snuggles nicely with the go-where-you-may drum beat and the attempted murder using a synth. Lydon speaks of being haunted again, this time by punk rockers who just can't seem to understand how little he cares for them. Of course, it could just be an admission of the man's paranoia, which was probably considerable at the time this album was made.
"Go Back" is a political statement, fueled along by more ugly keyboard drones, squeaking high-pitched guitar, and smack-my-kit-up drumming. Lydon expresses his disapproval of MP's who promise "good days ahead". He'd obviously had it with Britain by 1981, and set off for California shortly thereafter. As we all know, the West Coast is where you can get away from all of life's problems.
The last track is something of a mystery to me. First of all, I don't know what they were trying to accomplish with "Francis Massacre". It's a raucous, chaotic mess that sounds like a group of IRA terrorists fighting a piano inside a giant birdcage. I've read that the Francis Moran mentioned by Lydon is serving a life sentence in Dublin's Mountjoy Prison for an unspecified crime, but frequent Internet searches have left me empty-handed. What did the guy do that was bad enough to inspire a song this messy? It ends the album on an appropriately dark note, unless you have the reissue with the three bonus tracks (one's an instrumental version of the title track; one's a decent song called "Home Is Where The Heart Is", and the last is a version of "Graveyard" with vocals, titled "Another". Curiously, I prefer it Lydon-less).
The fact that PiL recorded this album by having each member go in and do whatever the heck they wanted meant that it was destined to not be easy listening. The band was on the skids, and Levene left during the recording of the not-so-great fourth album, "This Is What You Want....This Is What You Get". However, this is one of my favorite records ever; whatever they were taking to make "Flowers of Romance" turn out the way it did ought to be sold at a drugstore near me. It's a collection of songs that show a mind being attacked from all different directions, and it just begs to be in your CD collection.
Epinions.com periodically updates pricing and product information from third-party sources, so some information may be slightly out-of-date. You should confirm all information before relying on it.
- Add to My Yahoo!: 
- Add to Google Homepage: 
© 1999-2010 Shopping.com, Inc.