It is only fate, and perhaps the Jazz Butcher's daft name (he doesn't play jazz, and mutilation is not his forte), that has made Robyn Hitchcock the English eccentric college-rock favorite, and Mr. Butcher (real name: Pat Fish ) not.

On his latest LP, the attention-grabbing songs are the thumpin guitar rambles (pete!/pat) sort of Lloyd Cole on acid (!?) filled with silliness about this thing for Shirley Maclaine, but as usual his best songs are the slow, love-lorn reveries when he stops being weird and is just captivatingly soft and wet.

Condition Blue

For all the pain and crap from which this record was made, the actual sessions were a gigantic and wonderful party. This was warmly received by The Outside World, less popular among those who counted themselves JBC afficionados. This IS the sound of me having fun, and getting me to do that in those dark days of mid-1991 was no small job.

creation_records, sky_records LP;CD