Prior to Audience With the Mind, the House of Love had grown accustomed to long recording processes that did their heads in and resulted in bad blood and lost members. So as a change of pace, they recorded this in less than two weeks -- the amount of time it usually took them to lay down a guitar overdub. It was a good idea for the band to make a record that wasn't too precious and overwrought for a (relatively) small sum of cash -- it seemed like a smart formula, and a bit of a working vacation for the likes of obsessive leader Guy Chadwick. In the end, it made for the least of their studio albums, but it isn't without a couple bright spots. The lead track, "Sweet Anatomy," dusts off an old B-side and speeds it up, pumping more life into it; it transforms a decent scrap to a filling main course, and it's one of the band's finest moments. After that, however, things fall apart. The songs are okay, but nothing has the delicate beauty of "Crush Me" or the knockout punch of "Destroy the Heart." Even more uncharacteristic are the two decent songs written by bassist Chris Groothuizen, "Hollow" and "Erosion." The normally ego-mad Chadwick of 1987-1992 would have never allowed such a thing to happen. The band was certainly running on fumes; "Shining On" is in obvious reference to "Shine On," the band's biggest hit that had already surfaced in multiple versions. "Into the Tunnel" is an eight minute epic that is anything but. All said, the majority of the record doesn't compete with A Spy in the House of Love, the band's B-side compilation. Not with a bang but a whimper, and a somewhat dismal closing chapter for the band. ~ Andy Kellman, All Music Guide
Guy Chadwick had threatened to make a loud rock record, and by the middle of the opening "You Don't Understand" (which sounds a great deal like the Spencer Davis Group's "I'm a Man"), he had everyone duped. However, the gilded fragility of the following "Crush Me" and "Cruel" throw the listener for a loop, retreating to what made the House of Love the House of Love: well-crafted songs that seem out of time. They don't really sound wholly retro, modern, or futuristic -- though there is something rather classicist about them. That's just one reason why Babe Rainbow went nowhere on the British charts, let alone dying a dustbin death in the States. Singles like "Feel" and "The Girl With the Loneliest Eyes" were simply too subtle to find a home on as many turntables as Nirvana or Pearl Jam at the time, and in the U.K. the flashy Brit-pop scene was just beginning to tighten its vice. In all seriousness, Babe Rainbow should be regarded as much as the band's prior albums. It's nearly as solid as both. It might not have the hazy glow of the debut or the slightly cinematic edge of the punchier follow-up, but the emotional range and level of songwriting still remains. Most who disregard Babe Rainbow will point to the complete absence of guitarist Terry Bickers, which leads to one question. Did they really listen to this? And there's always something romantic about viewing a band's first record as their best and casting off the remainder as bunk, so that's another reason why this apparently loses points. What's more boring than a band's third record, especially when they're no longer on a stylish indie label? That's all malarkey; forget who the band's personnel is, forget how many records they made prior to this, and forget which label released it. Take the record at face value and see if it's not almost everything a guitar pop record should be. Babe Rainbow might not be a classic, but three dollar used-bin stuffers don't get much better. ~ Andy Kellman, All Music Guide
Following the combination of indie success and massive hype leading up to the band's first album proved to be too much for the original lineup, with Bickers leaving after a series of problems and pressures once the group signed to Fontana. Yet rarely has a fraught series of recording sessions resulted in something so flat-out stunning. The House of Love's second self-titled album in a row -- third counting the German singles comp -- remains something of a high-water mark in what can loosely be termed U.K. post-punk music, acting as an effective final statement before the onslaughts of Madchester, grunge, and Brit-pop. It's almost impossible to tell who is more responsible for what on the album, given its stitched-together nature, but whatever Bickers contributes matches Chadwick's cool but never cold performances note for note, and the result is deep blue rapture. Starting with the snaky crawl of "Hannah," sidling in over a series of echoed guitar notes, the 12-song collection does everything from revisiting past heights to scaling new ones. "Shine On" gets re-recorded in an arguably much more powerful performance, Evans' drums and Bickers pounding away out in front, while one early B-side, "The Hedonist," is turned from a light acoustic number into a evocative modern blues. Another, "Blind," is changed very little, its simple fragility still holding a soft sway. Everything else is new and quite often stunning, building on the combination of power and emotion from the first album perfectly. "I Don't Know Why I Love You" remains the group's definitive single, three and a half minutes of romantic angst matched by a fiery, perfectly arranged performance. "Beatles and the Stones," meanwhile, far from being a nostalgia piece, refers to the bands in question as "[making] it good to be alone," with a rich, melancholic acoustic performance to boot. Add in the fiery performances on songs like "32nd Floor" or "In a Room" and the result is a true lost classic. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
For all of the band's later highlights, there's no question that this is where the group shone the best; still hungry, still focused, and not plagued by the personality conflicts that would cause Terry Bickers' acrimonious departure, the quartet served up a half-hour-long delight. Guy Chadwick's yearning vocals and ear for memorable melodies matched beautifully with Bickers' fantastic guitar, and if the recorded results didn't really show the latter at full strength (Chadwick essentially told him what to play, and he only cut loose in concert), it's still something. Check out the sudden, thrilling solo on "Salome," a fantastic song that easily equals the Church at their most thrilling and powerful, or the even-more-memorable break on the deservedly famous leadoff track "Christine," once described aptly as the Jesus and Mary Chain meets the Left Banke. The Pete Evans/Chris Groothuizen rhythm team had their own fine moments as well -- the snaky crawl of "Road" in particular suggests Echo and the Bunnymen's own brilliant work with rhythm. "Man to Child," a reflective, softly crushed ballad, won many plaudits as well, Chadwick's portrait of aging and angst deft and quietly understated, matching the similarly wistful, just-sad-enough music beautifully. However, the secret highlight of the album would have to be "Love in a Car," starting with a keening, haunting high guitar part from Bickers and then slowly evolving into an evermore tense and dramatic all-band performance. Chadwick's singing is some of his wounded best, and the final slow fade keeps all the intensity right to the end. Though a couple of cuts veer toward the okay rather than the great, plenty of other highlights suggest themselves, and the album as a whole is a high watermark for English post-punk music of the '80s. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide