reviews of degenerates

hi-fi answers

degenerates was the first real hit album that the band had, thanks to the single xoyo being well-received among listeners with an iq over 27. i suspect the previous single taboos must've received some success (simply because it's so damn good!) but i have nothing with which to back up that statement... regardless, fans of the band were eager to hear what was coming next. and with degenerates we have a thickly layered assemblage of electronic tones and very lush drumming. yes, the passage have a real drummer, but now he's using electronic drums for a very distinct sound. starting here and with the taboos single the songwriting definitely becomes quite catchy & potentially commercial, while never heading into that territory already dominated now by bands like depeche mode and omd which ultimately shaped the bland "pop" music of the 90's. the passage still have a unique sound all their own, but now it's matured. elegantly, not compromising

scott gibbons

degenerates... sont des manifestes de disco detournée, a la fois dansante et pleine de sens. notre siècle est un melange diffus de moyen-age omnipresent dans les attitudes de la vie de tous les jours et la modernité projetée dans l'art et la musique, cette dualité ets tres nette dans la musique de the passage. toute la magie du groupe passe dans l'ambiance que crée le ton du dialogue entre les deux chanteurs, l'un tres gentleman avec une voix d'animateur-tv, l'autre, juvenile avec une voix plus agressive, violente et sensuelle

gai pied hebdo

record business

...degenerates showed the passage up for the strange and wonderful entity they were to become. the single off the album xoyo not only started the album off but set the tone for what was to come and the rousing choral refrain of "xoyo triple x sex mosaics" is sung even now in corridors, open spaces and wherever sensible people people meet... if you feel threatened - well maybe you're in the wrong

music

games passage play

the passage
degenerates (cherry red)

apart from anything else, the passage are perfectionist and pertinent presenters of multi-dimensional pop crosswords, where the clues are generally cryptic, and the solutions often hidden in the questions themselves. 'degenerates', words, music, packaging and all, is, in large part, a phonographic game comprising layers of riddles to peel back and solve. if good entertainment is defined more by mental exercise than emotional empathy, then here is a disc bearing hours of pleasure. an educational toy.

pay attention at the back! for 'degeneracy' read the corruption, stagnation and the collapse of most forms of human relations, in particular those between the people and the powerful, between potential lovers and 'normality', between belief and believers. power, sex and god (that 'g' is soon made small) recur in metaphors and symbolic combinations to form a contained and crafty critique.

everything starts on the record's sleeve, which shows a pin-person graph, diagrammatically categorising positions for the performance of the big 'it', filched from a pulp paperback on sexual mores. the clue: if you can do the one at the top on the right, you're a pretty unusual chap, which implies the message: to quantify this activity into tightly defined brackets isn't only dodgy, but is meaningless as well. getting the picture?

the record's ten songs utilise similar ploys to put the point across, and passage quiz-master-in-chief, the tight-lipped and terrifying dick witts, goes to town on his conceptual hobby horse. doing the pr job for witts' pregnant prognostications is a music (performed by himself, paul mahoney and andrew wilson) which comes at you as big bold drums and a dense proliferation of synths, treated horns, pianos and doubtless many other instruments incognito . amidst all this, witts dryly serenades and threatens, with wilson's darker tones used mainly as a foil, though he does get solo moments of his own. the tunes and arrangements form a bounding, irregular modern pop, and they themselves seem to degenerate from tuneful assertion to uncomfortable slices of menace and tension by the end.

hence, the opening 'xoyo', their last 45, waves at you cheerfully through clusters of synthetic fanfares, a bunch of crafted hook lines and a rollicking chorus. by track five, 'born every minute', we're getting spiteful about the ruling classes. track eight, 'armour' (amour?), is an effectively sour look at the corrupted functions of sex with mix 'n' match metaphors sung by wilson in a wavery sulk. to end, 'empty words' (tells a tale in itself, perhaps?) blends thin expectation with a sense of dread, and floats an oblique lyric to match.

'degenerates' presents signposts to a city of subtle repression and lies. it's painstakingly done with a certain sly humour and plenty of scowls. there's one simple problem. it was a real struggle to enjoy.

its density and irregularity is, i guess, the trick part of the question. the bits that mystify are probably meant to, so just as the truth is lost in a maze of false messages, so the passage partially ape the process themselves. i just wonder if i'd have figured this stuff if dick witts hadn't explained things on the phone. (and he was probably making it up). crucially, the songs are often ungainly, and the way to their rewards, obscure. i mean, this isn't exactly a big fun review. the album prompts either study or disinterest. it doesn't exactly entice. this logic can work both ways, but ignorance of another set of rarefied ideas just rules you out of the contest at the weigh-in. but then is that our problem or theirs? i don't know. ludo anyone?

dave hill