Summary.
The Boo Radleys, formed in Liverpool in 1988 by Simon Rowbottom (vocals) and Martin Carr (guitar), were protagonists (at least in the music magazines) of the period between the dream-pop of Cocteau Twins and the Brit-pop of Oasis, and expressed its contradictions and uncertainties.
Full bio.
(Translated from my original Italian text by ChatGPT and Piero Scaruffi)
THe Boo Radleys, formed in Liverpool in 1988 by Simon Rowbottom (vocals) and Martin Carr (guitar), were protagonists (at least in the music press) of the period straddling the dream-pop of the Cocteau Twins and the Brit-pop of Oasis, expressing its contradictions and uncertainties.
The mini-album Ichabod And I (Action, 1990) was the work of mediocre disciples of the noise-pop of the Jesus And Mary Chain (in truth, more similar to Dinosaur Jr, though perhaps they didn’t know them).
The EPs Kaleidoscope (Rough Trade, 1990), with the title track, Every Heaven (Rough Trade, 1991), with Finest Kiss, Boo Up (Rough Trade, 1991), with Everybird, and Adrenaline (Creation, 1992), with Lazy Day, progressively shifted the focus toward the “shoegazing” psychedelia of My Bloody Valentine, albeit in a much more melodic version. The first three EPs were later compiled on Learning To Walk (Rough Trade, 1994).
The album Everything's Alright Forever (Columbia, 1992) emphasized the melodic component, while not renouncing expansive structures, so that tracks like Skyscraper, Does It Hurt, Losing It, and Memory Babe rely on languid, dreamy refrains.
Three more singles bridged the gap between this album and the next: Boo Forever (Creation, 1992), Lazarus (with an arrangement in constant motion, from the opening dub to the final trumpet apotheosis), and finally I Hang Suspended (its most sugary melody).
Giant Steps (Columbia, 1993) completed the metamorphosis from experimenters to songsmiths. The Boo Radleys jumped on the Brit-pop bandwagon and began churning out 1960s-style tunes arranged with the harmonic exuberance of the late Beach Boys and the late Love. But the classically inspired madrigals of Thinking Of Ways and Best Lose The Fear are at best worthy of California’s Paisley Underground (Three O'Clock and the like). On the melodic front, the standout is the Belly-like round dance of Rodney King.
All in all, the more evocative moments are the peripheral ones: dub fantasies like Upon 9th And Fairchild, distorted ballads like Butterfly McQueen, psych-orchestral collages like Lazarus, the dissonant florilegium of Spun Around. The Boo Radleys were still experimenting, but one had to dig deep to notice.
The lineup had, after all, grown to seven members, including cello (Lindsay Johnston), horn (Steve Kitchen), and clarinet (Jackie Toy). The album will likely remain their artistic peak.
(Original English text by Piero Scaruffi)
Wake Up (Creation, 1995) is the quintessence of straightforward,
linear Brit-pop:
impeccable melodies and arrangements, but absolutely empty music.
The Boo Radleys revisit the ditties of Beach Boys and Mama's And Papa's
through the baroque maquillage of the Squeeze.
The light, smooth, ethereal vocal harmonies are the band's trademark, as are
the jovial horn fanfares.
Wake Up Boo> adds a bouncing ska beat,
It's Lulu a power-pop progression,
Reaching Out From Here a tender Hollies feeling.
Their spineless, syrupy melodies, not adequately supported by the muse
(often limited to a martial tempo) fall flat.
The slow, romantic tracks are a terrible bore and
the closing Wilder is third-rate Billy Joel.
The Kinks-y lullaby Charles Bukowski Is Dead revitalizes the album
but it's too little too late.
This album will become their best-seller.
C'Mon Kids (Creation, 1996) is another homage to the
triad of Kinks, Who and Hollies, but this time it is wed again to
Giant Steps-grade arrangements that border on Queen-style pomp.
With a few exceptions (C'Mon Kids, What's On The Box)
the result is even emptier than the previous album: all form and no content.
Carr simply updates the sound of the band to modern production techniques.
Kingsize (Creation, 1998) is the real follow-up to
Giant Steps:
Old Newsstand At Hamilton Square,
Blue Room In Archway and so forth are miniature pop concertos that
employ countless production tricks to sound the way they don't sound.
Carr is a magician who can totally hypnotize and confuse his audience.
After the band's breakup, singer "Sice" adopted a new monicker,
Eggman, and recorded First Fruits (Creation, 1997). Carr was the
Boo Radley's Beethoven and it shows. Eggman's music is not catchy and is
not majestic and is not original.
The Beatles made one Rubber Soul and the Beach Boys made one
Pet Sounds: the Boo Radleys made three or four of them.
They are only as good as heavily-processed pop can get, but they assembled
an impressive body of work.
Martin Carr launched a solo career under the moniker
Brave Captain with the mediocre mini-albums
The Fingertip Saint Sessions Vol 1 (Wichita, 2000) and
Go With Yourself (Wichita, 2001), summarized in the USA on
Nothing Lives Long, He Sang, Only the Earth and the Mountains
(Thirsty Ear, 2001).
Carr updated his Brit-pop sound to electronics and computers on the first
Brave Captain full-length,
Advertisements for Myself (Wichita, 2002), that contains an impressive
dose of catchy tunes masquerading as avantgarde, followed by
All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace (2004) and
Distractions (2006). He then continued his solo career using his own
name:
Ye Gods (2009),
The Breaks (2014),
New Shapes of Life (2017),
and
The Canton Hours (2025).
The Book Radleys returned with
Keep On With Falling
(2022) and
Eight
(2023).