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 

CD: Madness - Can't Touch Us Now

Camden's well-loved and unstoppable six-piece are still well worth a listen

share this article

None more London

When Madness appeared on Saturday afternoon at the Glastonbury Festival this year, there may initially have been a sense of “another Glastonbury, another Madness set” but that was kicked into touch by their preposterous version of ACDC’s “Highway to Hell”. It wasn’t good, exactly, but it certainly woke everyone up, grabbed the crowd by the short’n’curlies. By the end of their performance “It Must Be Love” had become a passionate anti-Brexit anthem, salving the wounds of the assembled. They’d proved themselves yet again.

A sack of golden early 1980s hits remains the foundation of their reputation, but unlike many of their peers, notably The Specials, they remain a creatively restless unit. If it wasn’t for their unpretentious, light entertainment-friendly, and geezer-ish image, they’d surely be more universally acknowledged as one of the greatest of all British pop groups. Their new album certainly holds its own. In fact, it’s their most immediate album since 1999’s Wonderful (although 2009’s The Liberty of Norton Folgate was a grower).

Lead single “Mr Apples” is a classic song-sketch of a local busybody who has a seamy side, to put alongside the band’s own “In the Middle of the Night” (and, indeed, Pink Floyd’s “Arnold Layne”), while the gentle sax-soaked “Pam the Hawk” is in a similar but more affectionate vein. At an hour long and consisting of 16 numbers, not every song’s a corker but by far the majority boast Madness’s ability to combine music hall fairground stomp with ska, all woven through with poignancy, nostalgia and observation. The album’s title track is effervescent and emotive, “You Are My Everything” is a strident - rather than soppy - love song, “Blackbird” hits the spot, offering a snapshot of Suggs briefly meeting Amy Winehouse in rainy Soho, while the twangy guitar of “Grandslam” is a worthy cousin to their 1981 hit “Shut Up”.

And there’s plenty more juice too. Can’t Touch Us Now showcases a band comfortable with who they are and still in touch with their mojo, never drifting too far from what their fans loved about them in the first place.

They remain a creatively restless unit

rating

4

explore topics

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

A breathless half-hour takes in screaming, stop-start song structures and the odd hint of reflectiveness
The American singer's eighth album is rife with downtempo ruminations on love
A thrilling blast of deep rooted culture and devout belief
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