Oh, to live in an ideal world! In an ideal world The Blades would be on their third album, at least, and we wouldn't have had to wait until now, five years after their debut single 'Hot For You'.

It stands to their credit that they've managed to keep going for the length of time they have done, especially when faced with the sort of business problems which make John de Loreon look like a Moore St. trader being asked to move on by the Gardai. Dropped by Energy Records in 1981 after two excellent singles and then dropped by Elektra at the end of last year just when it seemed they were about to be given the backing they deserved it remains to be seen whether Reekus can provide the means to enable The Blades move into the major league.

The album itself it refreshingly free from the studio gimmicks which crop up on so many modern records to the detriment of the music. The production, by John Porter and Richard Mainwaring, is kept crisp and clear and is never allowed to get in the way of the songs - and what songs! Paul Cleary has such an innate grasp of what constitutes a great pop song that he leaves just about every songwriter in the country standing. Make no mistake, this is POP! The quality of his writing calls to mind Chris Difford and Glenn Tilbrook at their best - and I can think of no higher compliment. Like that deadly duo he has an eye for detail and never resorts to the type of banal word games which rapidly pall on repeated listening (c.f. Martin Fry). His choruses are deceptively simple (or simply deceptive?) and have that legendary quality of unidentified recall. Whey am I singing that song? What is that song? I've been often kept awake for hours trying to place a particular hook and I'm afraid Paul Cleary will interrupt my sleep for years to come.

The title track kicks things off with the proverbial gang. It's an ideal opener and is followed by what I consider to be the best song Paul has written, 'Downmarket'. The version here is far superior to that which appeared as a single last year, tougher, more committed and sung with a ferocity that had never even been hinted at before. The song paints a bleak picture - 'Everything's black and white and grey' - but Cleary is not one to wallow. No matter how depressing the scenario there is an underlying sympathy for his characters, there is a way out. 'That's Not Love' is a straightforward pop song, a filler by this album's standards but then this is an exceptional album. 'Talk About Listening' is the side's other highlight, a mid-paced reggae jaunt with a chorus I just can't get out of my head.

Side 2's opener 'A Chance To Stop' and the song which follows it, the excellent 'Don't Break The Silence' reinforce the Squeeze comparisons. Both deal with every-day situations in a witty and compassionate way and both boast more hooks than a fisherman's hat. The real gem on this side though is 'Those Were The Days'. A stark recollection of childhood experience it features a chilling vocal, the best on the album, allied with a sparse reggae arrangement to produce a stunning effect. Lyrically it's excellent: *There's a teacher in the class with a tight grip on my hand/and I know he won't let go until I can force a tear/so I cry the best I can to eliminate the pain/Now I forget what I did wrong, all I remember is the shame/and still they say... Those were the days*.

After that it's a coast to the end of the side with 'Boy One', brash, brassy and eager to please and the lovely 'Waiting For You To Call' to finish things off.

The playing throughout is solid and assured from all concerned, the rhythm section of Brian Foley and Jake are an unfussy combination, ideally suited to the songs. Paul Cleary's larynx is at its oxymoronic best - tough and tender by turns, he convinces. 'The Last Man In Europe' is a fine achievement by any standards, a collection of first class pop songs played and sung with pride and passion. The fact that it's been made by an Irish band is irrelevant. Hear it, then buy it.