The Saints: All Fools Day (1986)

(TVT)

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

Hard to imagine a more inauspicious setup for an album than this: the band recording All Fools Day were the Saints in name only, constituting just one member -- Chris Bailey -- of the key Australian punk rock band of the late '70s. It's otherwise a new lineup, and on top of that, the record lends itself readily to any sellout accusation you want to hurl at it. Bearing little resemblance to the no-frills rock & roll the Saints initially formed to create in 1974, these songs are hook-filled jangle-pop new wave that fit distressingly well with the MTV brand of alt-pop in the mid-'80s, to the point that the group actually managed to score a mid-sized video hit on the channel with "Just Like Fire Would." It was no "Rock the Casbah," but you'd be forgiven for a certain healthy cynicism about the irony in play here. Oh, and there's a song called "Celtic Ballad" that really kind of is one.

But fortunately, Bailey's work was never all that easy to pin down, and his proven intelligence helps to make this, as mid-'80s power pop goes, near the top of its heap. It betters the ample competition with the same genuine feeling and emotional thrust in the performances, especially within Bailey's vocals, which often uncannily resemble Mick Jagger. "Just Like Fire Would" itself, pun title and all, amply deserves its success, a perfectly engineered piece of romantic aggression. The record is really about Bailey's ever-growing assurance and enthusiasm as a singer-songwriter. In either regard, he excels and frequently soars; "See You in Paradise" is the sort of bracing ballad unimaginable in the typical punk context, even by the Saints' lax standards. Many of these songs cry out for a late-night slowdance or two, many are instantly lovable chestnuts of their time despite choice always-relevant lines like "Sometimes I worry about the third world, and I ain't even seen the first."

Bailey's guitar work throughout the LP is hit and miss, but producer Hugh Jones fills out the band's somewhat thin sound nicely with synthesizers and strings and other expansive-arrangement tricks that would be unthinkable on the Saints' early albums but somehow work well here. The driving sparkle he gives "Hymn to Saint Jude" makes that song even more memorable, and serves to provide contrast to the unprecedented, frayed intensity of Bailey's vocal; he lends just enough echo and spy-movie disorientation to the blatant pub rock throwback "Empty Page" to make it affable instead of utterly ridiculous. But everything goes back to the solid backbone of Bailey's songs and, especially, his vocals, which always remain true to his passion for the work, lending for instance a left-field resignation you don't predict you'll get from something called "How to Avoid Disaster." He doesn't get through any of these songs without breaking a sweat and selling the music's urgency, and the record has enough hooks, tempered gently by desperation and longing, to light up a sullen adolescent night, and we all need a few of those per year.

[SEE ALSO:]
(I'm) Stranded (1977)
Eternally Yours (1978)