The following news story appeared on the T&M homepage:

    LEFT OF THE DIAL WEBSITE REVIEW OF 'TOO MUCH REALITY'   

Check out the fabulous review of the new Charlie Harper & Captain Sensible E.P 'Too Much Reality' by the splendid David Ensminger on his Left Of The Dial website...

READ IT ON THE LINK HERE

Archived on T&M below! 

 

LOTD This is Now Review: The New EP by Sensible and Harper!
By visualvitriol
Charlie Harper and Captain Sensible / Too Much Reality: Time and Matter Records

 

Undoubtedly, this pairing is both opportune and slightly odd, if only because Captain Sensible’s sensibilities, shaped by an undeterred love for pure tongue-in-cheek British pop, wily camp, and prog rock echoes, is not exactly the same rot-gut blues and soaring rock’n’roll territory of former busker and pub rock turned punk pioneer Charlie Harper. Sure, they both have spines made from the finest of punk, but don’t expect this EP to sound like Captain’s “Mr. Brown’s Exploding Wallet” and “The Stately Homes of England,” which always sounded on the same side of genres inhabited by XTC, nor is this a unmodulated wink and nod at the Urban Dogs sonic style emporium either. “Too Much Reality” comes closest to the fist-in-the-air Harper model, especially in the rioting choruses, though it has a wavering, woozy undercurrent, felt most distinctly in the bridges as well, that offer up nimble, curlicuing, noodle-thin guitar trails alongside Sensible’s wonky atmospherics, like slight ricochets of Can tucked inside punk wallop. “Space Virgins” borrows some more interstellar vibes and elastic guitar (an amalgam of Gary Numan, Hawkwind, and Television?), though the tempo never shifts from mid-paced, back-to-basics, and thump’n’bump drumming. It’s brooding and brief, delivering a net profit of carefully curated post-punk. The gritty rock’n’roll redux of “Human Traffic,” not withstanding its humanitarian and liberal punk conscience edge, feels close to a Dirtbombs dirty avenue romp, as if delivering a literate examination of human pain and international criminal mischief but delivering it on vinyl easily heard on smeared jukeboxes in Detroit. And in case you doubted the arthouse potentials of Harper, check out the ender “Kamera,” a chunky, stiff, droning, absurdist spoken word piece that could be at home in the lap of Blixa Bargeld. Compact, curious, and contagious, this is a winner.

 

 

 

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