Review Summary: Really Farkin' Weird
It's inevitable that some bands come into existence. Sometimes there's a concept that's just so plainly perfect that it'd be a crime if nobody chose to run with the opportunity. Take Sigur Ros; it would've been illogical if no one ever got round to forming an Icelandic symphonic 'sweeping yet chilly' neo-classical rock band fronted by an androgynous pixie man with a voice like an enchanted wind tunnel. The Tiger Lillies are another such act. Of course the world needed an English vaudeville carny clown-painted pack of droogs writing sordid tales of bloody buggery and down on their luck syphilitic whores, all sung in a decidedly queer, strangulated plummy voice. Some things just make too much sense not to happen. So the Lillies formed at the back end of the 80s and knuckled straight down to the business at hand; establishing themselves as an irresistible 'word of mouth' cult live act.
Like most classic formulas the band's style is both totally unique and yet at the same time highly repeatable. A quick listen to a few songs from their debut album 'Births, Marriages and Deaths' and really there's not so much different going on compared to the approach taken on this, their thirty-first studio recording. 'Cold Night in Soho' employs the same herky-jerky rhythms, the same 'Rain Dogs does punk cabaret' aesthetic and the same seedy lyrical obsessions. There's been a marked improvement in terms of production, as you'd expect, but for all intents and purposes it's the same old clowning around. Their material has always tended to switch between one third affecting piano ballads to two thirds accordion led circus music bangers, and so the pattern continues here.
That's to say that The Tiger Lillies remain the most acquired of acquired tastes, in particular Martyn Jaques lead vocals are going to be a deal breaker for most. Sometimes he sounds a little like Horace Andy with his nuts trapped in a clamp, other times he goes full on 'Limbo Panto' matching the Wild Beast's Hayden Thorpe for high pitched falsetto drama. He also reigns things back to near spoken word at times and in these moments it can feel as if you've switched to listening to a particularly creepy audio book. Make no mistake, these vocals are so distinctive that if the listener can't get over the man's voice then in all likelihood that will mark the end of their interest in the band; if however they do come to appreciate his twisted delivery then the war is already as good as won.
Impressively, 'Cold Night in Soho' manages to distinguish itself among the band's huge catalogue thanks to a number of winning traits; firstly the band's conventional format, non-stage show affiliated releases are comparatively rare among their discography; secondly this feels like their most personal album, playing out as a sort of love letter to the Soho of their youth; and thirdly it's mightily consistent and bereft of the usual casual throwaways. Most facinating of all, on the album's title track they finally 'fess up and admit the band's name is taken from the name of a prostitute named Lillie who dressed in animal print, a friend of Jaques, who was murdered in Soho after robbing a punter. This track closes the album in epic fashion, running for almost ten minutes, the moment at 4:30 when Jaques finally says the name 'Tiger Lilly' as the music drops to a low hum guaranteed to send shivers down anyone's spine. A classic example of one song alone being worth the price of admission.
That's not to say the rest of the tracks included here fall short in any way, quite the contrary, this is an album with an almost mesmeric quality and possessed of a heady atmosphere that'll intoxicate you given half the chance. Opening number 'Salvation Army' welcomes you to Soho with it's very own biblical creation sermon, casting God as the ultimate drug pusher and pimp. 'The First Day' continues the religious theme and is a masterful combination of piano, acoustic blues guitar and haunted backing vocals that provide a fittingly ominous backdrop to a blasphemous reimagining of the Genesis story. Elsewhere the lyrics laser in on the little folk, putting their manifold lusts and addictions under the microscope. 'Let's Drink' cuts all the romance from the notion of drinking, working it's way through the alcoholic's week like a suicidally depressing sombre ballad version of The Cure's 'Friday I'm in Love', all leading to the weekend where the addict admits to himself 'Saturday's not bad, they're drunk then too' but 'Sunday you drink extra to the sound of church bells'. 'Heroin' takes the opposite musical approach, the most upbeat arrangement matched to a chorus of 'if you want to win...take heroin!'.
So the Tiger Lillies then; either they're your future favourite band in waiting...or they'll have you frantically scratching out your own ears in revulsion. 'A Cold Night in Soho' catches these eccentrics at their most focused and inspired, no better time to take a walk on the wild side and see which side of the fence you land.
