When it arrived in the mail, the first thing I noticed is that Martin Gordon’s new album is nicely packaged. From the clever evolutionary clock front illo, to the artfully designed lyric pages within, the enclosed booklet reflects uncommon quality in these recessionary times. I also appreciated the helpful warnings on the back—“Do not place this CD in boiling water. In case of overwhelming hunger, do not attempt to eat this CD.”—because, well, with me, better safe than sorry.
Unfortunately, as interesting and appealing as Time Gentlemen Please appears, and as intriguing as it sounded that one time I played it in the car stereo on my commute, I’m a busy guy, and really, who’s got time to listen to a whole album, much less write it up?
Good thing there are so many capable music reviewers on the Internet. Radiant Future, Gordon’s longtime label, must have sent out scads of review copies, if the number of write-ups on the Web is any indication. Because they are all probably better reviewers than me, and like I say, I’m kind of rushed, I cut and pasted some of the best comments I found about Time Gentlemen Please, which I’ve compiled for you here:
“Gordon’s pedigree with preeminent art-rock outfits Sparks and Jet (his 70s glam band) stands him in good stead here, as the mad pop ideas and heady lyrics fly fast and furious. While an entertaining listen, his dour outlook on mankind’s prospects for the future will give one paws.” — Canine Fancier Quarterly
“One look at titles like "Houston We Gotta Drinking Problem" and "Incognito Ergo Sum" hint at bassist/songwriter Martin Gordon’s wit and facility with language, if not his lyrical concerns. This album, billed as “the fifth and final outpouring of bile and spite in the so-called Mammal Trilogy,” is Gordon’s soundtrack to the final ticks of the Atomic Clock, both a jovial indictment of humanity for what we’ve done to ourselves, and a resigned shrug at the futility and finality of our situation. Full of energy, yet thematically often downbeat, listening to this album is something like cutting your Xanax with crystal meth.” – Contemporary Drug Interaction Journal
Article comments
1 - Roy Turgidson
Speaking for the socket industry, I don't think any of the songs taste like jellyfish.
2 - Nigel Nadger
Roy! How marvellous to hear from you! It must have been the Maritime Socket Convergence Convention in '98 in Dallas, right? My, how time flies. Anyway - jelly fish? I don't quite follow. Regards to Lurlene, btw, from all of us.
3 - Mark Johnson
I don't understand this review. I have invested in this recording and there is no reference to heavy machinery of any kind. Is this some kind of humourous writing?
4 - Roy Turgidson
Mark, I too felt misled by the review's mention of jellyfish and my favored socket industry publication, and the album's (if I may) marked absence of non-vertebrate sea life and receptacles. On playing the album, however, my consternation turned to delight. It's marvelous and I recommend giving it a spin.
5 - Mark Johnson
@ Roy - I note your comments, and will instruct my secretary to action them forthwith. I am particularly encouraged by the conversion of consternation to delight, and believe that you may have inadvertently stumbled across something here. Niche market possibilities? I think we should put our thinking caps on.
6 - Roy T
Mark J - I wanted to launch a personal attack upon you but I noticed (just in time!) that it is not allowed in accord to the rules that govern this site's behavioural code rules, so it will have to wait until the next Socket Convergence Convention, I believe it to be scheduled for late May in Abiline. Until then, ole buddy. And remember.
7 - Roy Turgidson
I just want to point out that the previous poster who calls himself "Roy T" is not I. There is no place in the socket industry for this kind of discord. Perhaps "Roy T" would be more content in heavy machinery.