Melody Maker - September 12, 1987
AND IAN BOTHAM
THESE IMMORTAL SOULS
MARRY ME (LIE LIE) Mute
WHAT possesses Rowland Howard when he writes an immaculate piece of music, something that might have qualified as the score for Romero's next film? What germs of inspiration allow him to weave sweet melodies from tumbling pianos and distorted guitars? And what spirit galvanizes this frail young man to bugger it all up by singing? Actually we know. And you probably do too if you've been a popster for more than 10 minutes. It's arrogance. Punishable arrogance. Singers go on to act, guitarists go on to sing, and both, in their black hole of insensitivity, go on to ruin the hard work of others. Truly the self-destruction blues.