TERRY HALL: “Home” (Anxious)

TERRY HALL has put together quite a band for this, his first solo LP. In fact, the line-up looks like a “Who’s Who?” from the 1980s. The former Specials’ frontman is ably helped on Home by The Smiths’ ‘fifth member’ Craig Gannon, ex-Bunnyman Les Pattinson and World Party’s Chris Sharrock. Ian Broudie from Lightning Seeds produces, and plays guitar on a couple of tracks, while Nick Heyward and Andy Partridge assist with the songwriting.

Home is a far cry from the classic Specials’ sound of ‘Ghost Town’. The opening ‘Forever J’ is a slice of melodic, mellow pop, where the mysterious J is described as “a bee with honeyed thighs”. ‘I Drew A Lemon’ has Terry sounding like John Lennon, full of clever lyrics about the banalities of life after a break-up: “A couple of cops drop by/’Cos Mr Singh complained the level of my Hi-fi/Is driving him to drink, I think/I’ll turn it down ’til you turn up again”.

Terry’s voice has never sounded better than on the ballad ‘Moon On Your Dress’, or the quietly captivating ‘No No No’ where he sings the cryptic “Oh no, here comes that violin again” before each chorus. ‘What’s Wrong With Me’, co-written with Nick Heyward, is a clever self-parody containing the immortal lines, “And you can do anything that you want to me/Cut off my legs and call me shorty”. All this, and the cover doesn’t even have a parental warning sticker.

The Cure-like ‘Grief Disguised As Joy’ is a bit pretentious, with its lyrics about weaving mortal coils and “some distant beach like paradise”. I think Terry’s been watching too many Aussie soaps! ‘First Attack Of Love’ is the only filler here, and serves to remind me why I’m glad the ’80s are over. The album finishes with ‘I Don’t Get You’, a gentle, endearing ballad about the effects of loneliness.

Home is a very likable album. It’s a fine collection of songs that, while not the most innovative, are well-crafted and appealing. The only thing I dislike about Terry Hall is that he gives special thanks to the red infidels, Giggs and Cantona, in the credits.

• John Walshe