The Pastels – London Powerhaus, New Musical Express, 23 november 1991

Long before Teenage Fanclub scorched forwars, while the Mary Chain were still scheming, nine years before Screamadelica, there was ANOTHER Scottish band. So when The Pastels hit town it’s important ; they, in more ways than one, sowed the seeds of The scottish Thistle. Tonight they hit town after a two year absence to promote two single releases a month apart. Bizarre behaviour, but part of The Pastels, appeal lies in their refusal to become part of a machine that demands product. The Pastels never deliver product, just give music when they can. Tonight when The Pastels play they half-deliver. Recently stripped to a three-piece of Stephen Pastel, Aggi, Katrina and then rebuilt before this tour with a new drummer and guitarist ; the bodywork glimmers but the engine stalls. The newer songs are fine. ‘Speeding Motorcycle’ fair
rattles by, smothered in a cacophony of violin, maracas, burning guitars
and tyrannical lyrics. It’s the first time Katrina’s seen Pastel dance.
‘Thru’ My Heart’ and ‘My Heart’s My Badge’, both drip with melancoly, cracking couplets and noise. The Pastels have developped far past the
point where words like ‘twee’ and ‘cutie’ could be hurled at them, there’s
fire in their stomach these days. The classics, of which there are a handful, suffer at the hands of band members who didn’t record them. ’Baby Honey’ lacks the electrifying intensity, ‘Truck Train Tractor’ mererly tickles, Aggi’s moments at the mic are crucified by an undisciplined rhythm. ‘Ditch The Fool’, however, is rendered like the classic it is. It feels like ‘Venus In Furs’ and it stinks of hell. It proves that The Pastels can, even now, contend. A grim drumbeat underpins a burning guitar as the violin slashes across both. When The Pastels hit town next go to see them. You will not regret it.
Simon Dudfield