Richard Butler reviewed

Richard Butler
Abbey Pub, Chicago
Monday, March 20, 2006

Some rock ‘n’ rollers sure do take their time when it comes to releasing records, and Richard Butler certainly fits into that category. The ultra-cool frontman for The Psychedelic Furs and later Love Spit Love has been hinting at a solo album since the late 1990s, but it wasn’t until six years into the current decade that he actually obliged.

Aside from perennial road duties with the Furs playing its jukebox of hits, it’s not like he’s been all that busy professionally, though the Englishman has experienced some tough times personally (including the death of his father and a divorce). As a result, it’s only natural for the self-titled CD (April 18th on Koch) to take on a darker, somber, and vulnerable format, a blueprint the singer repeated on a limited run of concert dates throughout America.

A Chicago stop at the Abbey Pub just so happened to be opening night for this outing and Furs’ faithful were foaming at the mouth. After all, a decade and a half passed since PF released all-new material, while Bulter’s last full-length trip to the studio was for 1997’s LSL sessions, Trysome Eatone. But the anticipation and crowd’s sheer adoration for their hero overshadowed the fact that despite the more introspective direction these days, it hardly matches any of either band’s excellence, nor would it work in any place beyond an extremely intimate club. Along with only a pair of laptops, an acoustic guitarist, and keyboardist (who also strummed the strings from time to time), Butler sounded much more like an acoustic troubadour than he did the member of a band who has influenced a sea of new wave revivalists and been a marking point for groups like The Killers and The Bravery. That element alone made the appearance somewhat of a let down, coming across with nowhere near the energy of the Furs’ Aragon Ballroom show last year, nor the hook-heavy immediacy of that act’s past work.

Granted, it isn’t necessarily fair to compare Butler’s current material with his parade from the past, which is exactly why this album is listed under the solo banner. However, other artists from that era (such as David Gahan from Depeche Mode or Andy Bell from Erasure) have successfully stepped aside, merging nuances of their full time gigs with individual traits. Cuts like “Nothing’s Wrong” and “Satellites” completely ignored that former necessity, instead reducing his husky pipes and gritty swagger to a mere whisper. His usual attitude and aggressiveness on stage were substituted, which, again, fell in line with the way he was feeling as of late, but didn’t translate with an ample amount of insistence (especially since he sat on a barstool for most of the 75 minutes).

While the stripped-down direction had its share of boredom musically, Butler has excelled as a songwriter, especially considering these tracks are like reading directly into his personal diary. The grief-themed “Good Days, Bad Days” was hard not to be moved by and it displayed the real side to a rocker who often blasts through classics like “Pretty In Pink” while diving into the crowd with microphone outstretched. Of course, none of that behavior was present at the Pub, but a handful of golden oldies surfaced in the unplugged format. The instant sing-a-longs “Love My Way,” “Heaven,” and “The Ghost In You” served as the set list’s true chestnuts. Now if only Butler could revisit another album with his original partners (yes, he’s still with the Furs) hopefully that trend could continue, because as it stands right now, the solo route is drabber than desired.

— Andy Argyrakis

Category: Live Reviews, Weekly