Separating the sweet, juicy flesh from the stone and skin of this week’s major label releases.

Yes, yes, we know you’ve missed us. We are well aware of the weeping, the wailing, and the mass suicides. But quit it already, because we’re back after a brief and unexplainable (without breaking certain injunctions which were secured “in the interests of national security”) holiday.

It’s your Mango!

We shall return to the customary routine: some music is reviewed, and then represented as a thought that the think-creators who buy it may think. If that makes you feel like your brain is a half-set jelly sinking into wet sand, you’ve got it.

Firstly: Cosmic Egg (Deluxe Edition), Wolfmother. Between 1970 and 1971, Black Sabbath released the albums Black Sabbath and Paranoid. During the next two years came Master Of Reality and Paranoid. The world was shocked, awed, and somewhat resigned to the fact that a whole genre of music had been created and reached its apotheosis in just four years.

Then, at the beginning of the next millenium, three Australians decided they could add to the holy quatrus, and released a self-titled debut album that was inspired by, and – let’s be honest – copied gratuitously from, the holy texts of Sabbath.

Well now they’re back, with a new album which plays like a primer in the development of music from 1971 to 1995. The first few tracks are unreconstructed Sabbath. We’re then led through the early 80s via Hair Rock, the late 80s world of U2, finally ending up in the 90s courtesy of a mystifying Soundgarden/Stone Roses/Crowded House mashup which – do not take this as hyperbole – made us use sharpened sticks to push dogshit into our ears in the hope that we would become bereft of the sense of hearing. Scientists predict that Wolfmother will discover The White Stripes sometime in 2015.

Do you want a thought about this? Okay then, here it is, you perverts:

Oh, the new Wolfmother album. Wonder if they’re still using the mighty Sabbath as a template for their music. Hmm, first few tracks don’t sound too bad, hope it…aaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrr……..ohhhgodthat hurts………..nnnngggggggghhhhhhhh…………..ahthatsterrible……..uuuaaagggggggggghhhh…..

Secondly: Coming Home, Soldiers. Yes, it’s awful. Of course it’s terrible. And sure, you’ll be reaching for the razor blade before the first two bars of the opening song. But that’s not the point; you’ll  be a better person for buying this. You’ll have done your bit. So go ahead: push aside your prejudice against versions of classic songs which have apparently been produced by three-year old girls made of sugar and fudge, and buy it. For the boys.

This album is represented by the thought:

Well, that’s not a bad version of He Ain’t Heavy. What’s next? Oh cocksocks, it’s Tears In Heaven. Okay, I’m taking this one for the lads in Basra…bring it on, I can take ……aargghh, man down…

Thirdly: One Step Beyond (30th Anniversary Deluxe Edition), Madness. Answering the question of “what’s been released this week which anyone who likes music should buy?” it’s Cockney skastars Madness’s debut album in all its deluxe glory (including a second disc which collates B-sides). If you don’t want this, it’s only because you haven’t heard it.

This album is represented by the thought:

Jesus cracking Christ. Wolfmother, then Soldiers, now what? A recording of Janet Street-Porter passing a kidney stone? An album called “Nick Griffin Sings The Songs Of Yoko Ono While Being Buggered By A Jewish Indian”? OMG it’s Madness! MADNESS!

Farewell, Mangons, until the next time.

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