Founder rate ends 9th September.

We’re rebuilding theartsdesk to secure the future of real arts journalism. Be part of it by subscribing: if you do it now, the founders’ rate of just £40 yearly is yours FOR LIFE!

SUBSCRIBE NOW 

Album: X - Smoke & Fiction

Final album from Los Angeles punks offers ebullient reflections on a career to be proud of

share this article

Pared-back and to the point

X, although beloved of music journalists, are one of American punk’s most under-acknowledged. They took a tilt at fame in the mid-Eighties with the radio-friendly Ain’t Love Grand album and its lead single “Burning House of Love”, but it wasn’t to be. They remained a connoisseurs’ choice (inarguable evidence of their abilities is the stunning 1983 tune “I Must Not Think Bad Thoughts”). Now they reach the end of the line, persuasively so, with a wistful but sonically punkin’ final album.

Led by the vocal spar-harmonising duo of John Doe and Excene Cervenka, the Los Angeles four-piece were never predictable, their new wave sound interwoven with poetic lyricism and musical toe-tipping everywhere from country-folk to 4AD Records-style alt-pop. They reconstituted their original line-up early this century but only went back to the studio one album ago for the energized Alphabetland album. Smoke & Fiction is a power pop concept piece, looking back at a band-life well-lived.

The sense of loss is poignant, as on songs such as “The Way It Is” (“Knowing you gotta go, but that don’t make it easier”) and the Cervanka-sung title track (“My face turns to sorrowin’ when I think about tomorrowin’”). But it’s matched by a fiery celebratory zip that powers everything, lifted by the bullish guitar of Billy Zoom and drums of D.J.Bonebrake, as exemplified by the Rezillos-like rockin' of "Sweet 'til the Bitter End".

Those after sheer Ramones-ish pelt can turn to “Struggle”, while those wishing for the band’s penchant for not taking obvious route will seek out the slo-mo’ crunch-funk of “Face in the Moon”. But perhaps the most affecting cut is “Big Black X”, a rollicking, yearning, diaristic set of snapshots from their memory banks (“A naked Christmas tree on fire in a Cherokee alley/Silent movie genuflecting dream/Hangin’ off bumpers and scrapin’ off tar and leather/LA Riverbed/Drag strip on acid/And something about a basement”). Sung with longing, it exemplifies the spirit of this potently alive goodbye album. “Stay awake and don’t get taken,” runs the chorus. As good a philosophy for living as exists.

Below: Watch the video for "Big Black X" by Los Angeles punk band X

The sense of loss is poignant

rating

3

share this article

Help secure the future of arts journalism

In this era of algorithmic recommendation, opaquely sponsored content and AI slop, theartsdesk’s mission to preserve real journalistic and critical values has never been more important.

If you like what you see here, please join us 
in this mission.

Subscribing to the site will help us in our coming 
redesign and expansion.


If you do this before the 9th September this will be at our guaranteed founder’s rate: 
your subs will never increase again.

Subscribe now for £5 per month. 
or yearly for just £40.

Or if you simply want to support us with a one-off donation, you can do so here.

more new music

Two decades on from Patti Smith and the original pink sheep, the anniversary edition proved again that Latitude's real headliners are rarely at the top of the bill
From Korean bluegrass to gigantic Ugandan xylophones, the global diversity of musical life is here
A championing, but also perhaps a dilution, of South African innovation
The return of a punk-era landmark of British art rock
With a danceable rock feel she displays her burgeoning creativity
The garage rockers don't do themselves justice on new album
Andy Dragazis’ musical alter-ego offers nods to legendary arranger and producer Charles Stepney
The welcome return of a foundational album of electronic minimalism