Album: Peter Perrett - The Cleansing

Depth, humour and bucket loads of cool from the former Only One

That Peter Perrett is still alive after the decades of bad habits that he inflicted on himself must be something of a surprise to those who’ve followed his career since the mid-70s. First there was England’s Glory, then the truly exquisite Only Ones and more recently an intermittent solo career – all of which have produced searing anthems from society’s seedy underbelly.

At the ripe old age of 72, Perrett must surely be a poster boy for lovable scoundrels in their third acts and that he’s still turning out records of The Cleansing’s guilt-edged quality is nothing less than miraculous, especially as it is one of those rare beasts – a double album which doesn’t call for any heavy editing. Of course, there’s still more than a suggestion of a South London Lou Reed in his wry and narcotic tales, which not only have his sons Jamie and Peter Junior providing the musical heft behind Perrett’s charismatic drawl but also guest appearances from the likes of Johnny Marr, Fontaines DC’s Carlos O’Connell and Dream Wife’s Alice Go – not to mention eternal rock’n’roll fanboy Bobby Gillespie. However, the tunes on show here are far more than a spin on past glories and Perrett’s dark sense of humour seeps out of every line.

On “I Wanna Go with Dignity” he proclaims that “If I’m gonna jump in front of a train, I’ll wait ‘til after Christmas”, while on “Secret Taliban Wife” he admits “She’s been sending me videos on WhatsApp. I’m caught in a trap”. Inevitably, there’s also plenty of Perrett’s trademark smirking cynicism, as he cautions “nothing ventured, nothing lost” on the title track and “can’t you see, they’re off their meds” on the withering “Survival Mode”. Throughout these songs of art, addiction and aging though, Peter Perrett surely remains the poet laureate of dark and spaced-out romanticism and The Cleansing is yet another fine addition to a musical career that has never had any truck with fashion yet has frequently been the last word in cool.

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Peter Perrett surely remains the poet laureate of dark and spaced-out romanticism

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