Happy Mondays Albums (6)
What The Critics Say
Man, Uncle Dysfunktional has a really ugly, garish cover -- but such a revolting image is the only appropriate art for a comeback album by Happy Mondays, for there has been no band that epitomized ugly and garish like the X-addled thugs from Manchester. Even when they got colorful, which was a lot, it was with nasty clashes of color. They didn't match and they didn't care, and that same sense of malevolent, cheerful sloth infects this, the first Happy Mondays record since 1992's Yes, Please and Shaun Ryder's first since the largely ignored 2003 project Amateur Night in the Big Top. This is called the Mondays, but most of the band hasn't shown up: only Ryder and his faithful sidekick Bez, plus drummer Gary Whelan, whose presence may be the only reason outside of marketing that this isn't called a Black Grape record. Then again, the Black Grape albums -- particularly the excellent 1995 debut It's Great When You're Straight...Yeah -- felt more like Mondays albums than Yes, Please, for Ryder was the sound and spirit of the group, no matter who was backing him as a band or pulling levers on the board. Given all that, why not reclaim the name? What else is Ryder going to do anyway? He seems to admit that directionless as much on Uncle Dysfunktional, as this isn't a bracing return to form as much as it is an acknowledgement that this kind of lecherous electro-funk is what he does best, so why not do it anyway? That might not make for a kinetic album, but there's a casualness to Uncle Dysfunktional that's appealing, as the tapestries of loops, samples, and synths have a filthy, lecherous quality that's kind of seductive, even if it's not quite irresistible. What is nice is that the Mondays pretty much steadfastly refuse to change -- there are a couple of flourishes that identify this as a 2007 release, such as the blipping electronic bhangra of "Anti Warhole on the Dancefloor," but they're not forceful and they're swallowed out by beats that could have been heard ten or 15 years ago. Again, this doesn't seem like laziness as much as a shrug of "this is what they do," and there's something endearing about that. If only Ryder could have been arsed enough to really write some lyrics -- or even some lines -- that linger in the imagination, Uncle Dysfunktional would have had some longer staying power, but as it stands it's a not-bad-at-all comeback that's at least better than Stupid, Stupid, Stupid and it offers one stone-cold Ryder classic in the gleefully vulgar "Cuntrydisco," a hazy blend of Hawaiian steel, "Bob George" samples, silly voices, and nonsense that's as good as anything he's ever done -- even if it does suggest that he could have done an album as good as this if he only bothered. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
'Pills 'n' Thrills and Bellyaches'
Release Date 12/31/1993
Tracks 10
Label London
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
At their peak, the Happy Mondays were hedonism in perpetual motion, a party with no beginning and no end, a party where Pills 'N' Thrills and Bellyaches was continually pumping. The apex of their career (and quite arguably the whole baggy/Madchester movement), Pills 'N' Thrills and Bellyaches pulsates with a garish neon energy, with psychedelic grooves, borrowed hooks, and veiled threats piling upon each other with the logic of a drunken car wreck. As with Bummed, a switch in producers re-focuses and redefines the Mondays, as Paul Oakenfold and Steve Osborne replace the brittle, assaultive Martin Hannett production with something softer and expansive that is truly dance-club music instead of merely suggestive of it. Where the Stone Roses were proudly pop classicists, styling themselves after the bright pop art of the '60s, the Mondays were aggressively modern, pushing pop into the ecstasy age by leaning hard on hip-hop, substituting outright thievery for sampling. Although it's unrecognizable in sound and attitude, "Step On," the big hit from Pills, is a de facto cover of John Kongos' "He's Gonna Step on You Again," LaBelle's "Lady Marmalade" provides the skeleton for "Kinky Afro," but these are the cuts that call attention to themselves; the rest of the record is draped in hooks and sounds from hits of the past, junk culture references, and passing puns, all set to a kaleidoscopic house beat. Oakenfold and Osborne may be responsible for the sound of Pills 'N' Thrills and Bellyaches, certainly more than the band, which almost seems incidental to this meticulously arranged album, but Shaun Ryder is the heart and soul of the album, the one that keeps the Mondays a dirty, filthy rock & roll outfit. Lifting melodies at will, Ryder twists the past to serve his purpose, gleefully diving into the gutter with stories of cheap drugs and threesomes, convinced that god made it easy on him, and blessed with that knowledge, happy to traumatize his girlfriend's kid by telling them that he only went with his mother cause she was dirty. He's a thug and something of a poet, creating a celebratory collage of sex, drugs, and dead-end jobs where there's no despair because only a sucker could think that this party would ever come to an end. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
While the band frequently sounds stiff, and Paul Ryder frequently sounds stoned, Live is a better proposition than it sounds. Instead of relying strictly on the studio arrangements, Happy Mondays open up their grooves and play some new songs. It's an intriguing album, especially for dedicated fans, but it's not as convincing as Pills 'n' Thrills or Bummed. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Only a year after the intermittently thrilling Squirrel and G-Man, Happy Mondays snapped into focus on its sophomore album, 1988's Bummed. "Focus" is an odd word for the persistently addled, violently hedonistic Mondays, yet Bummed has its own peculiar drug logic, loping into view with the two-stepping "Country Song," a cut so twisted it goes far beyond irony, then settling into the dense groove of "Moving In With," its hook buzzing and circling, causing a cacophony. Such vivid, concrete textures are a hallmark of producer Martin Hannett, the Mancunian legend who has been brought on board to give the Happy Mondays direction by doing the opposite of what he did with Joy Division. His production for Unknown Pleasures was stark, austere, but Bummed is all smeared colors and harsh edges, a fistful of razors and menace cutting viciously into the subconscious. This is nasty, nightmarish music delivered with a lascivious leer by Shaun Ryder, a hallucinatory accidental poet portrayed on the album's garish cover as some kind of harlot put out to pasture. Decadence has rarely sounded as dangerous as it did in the hands of the Mondays and this is where they reveled in that debauchery, pumping out stiff psychedelic funk as Ryder spat out rhymes of luck, lazyitis and fat lady wrestlers. Hannett's bright, brittle production amplifies everything, creating a swirling hyper-reality that's almost a sonic black hole sucking everything into its vortex -- slide guitars, sound clips from "Performance," maniacally looped drum machines, Beatles melodies, drums that are pushed to the front of the mix so it all is a relentless assault, from the ears down to the loins. As jagged and lacerating as all this is, there's a sense of evil glee, that the Mondays want to drag you down to their level, but there's no sense of seduction here; you're either with them or not, as Bummed is music for after you've already succumbed to the dark side. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
'Squirrel & G-Man Twenty Four Hour Party People Plastic Face Carnt Smile'
Release Date 1/1/1987
Tracks 11
Label Factory
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Happy Mondays' debut album was in retrospect a false start, but not as much of one as has been claimed. Production by John Cale was an odd choice -- certainly fewer bands were out there who had less of an open connection to the Welsh legend's musical approach -- but the end results capture the cluttering mess of the band's approach well enough. The wild card is the presence of original member Paul Davis on keyboards, who adds some subtle touches throughout that make the band sound a touch more relaxed than they really were, as on "Oasis." (Bez wasn't around at this point -- but then again, was he ever around even when he was in the band?) Shaun Ryder certainly is well on his own way, though, his attitude-laden delivery already finding the perfect balance between random incomprehensibility, sharp images, and inspired nonsense. The album's standout track and more or less title cut "24 Hour Party People" -- ironically only included after the fact when the song "Desmond" had to be pulled for its blatant Beatles borrowing -- is a blast, a partying call to arms that is all about fun and chaos at once. If the remainder of the album can mostly be called a fusion of disco-tinged funk and Ryder's vocal insanity, though, it's still a great fusion, not quite the heights of the near future, but by no means a washout. The combination of slick and rough on songs like the well-groovy "Tart Tart" is offset by the quiet prettiness of the band at points. "Olive Oil" sounds a bit like a queasy Smiths song and both "Cob 20" and "Kuff Dam" almost sound a bit like the Cure. CD copies of the album include a variant of "Little Matchstick Owen" called "Little Matchstick Owen's Rap," which originally appeared as the B-side to "Tart Tart." ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
