The renown of this sorry punk-funk gone pop-jazz is as depressing as anything in the annals of Anglophilia. Lesley Woods's line on free love is as priggish as the rest of her leftism and her separate-but-equal rhythm section couldn't make the earth move if one of them played tractor. Don't blame me for the metaphor, either--it's Lesley's, by way of famed protofeminist E. Hemingway, which proves that she's either open-minded or just plain dumb. Not since the Stranglers has a Brit group sexed it up so unconvincingly. (Grade - C)
- © R. Christgau/Village Voice