Despite the evocative implications of their name, the Psychedelic Furs prove to be neither here (the Eighties) nor there (the Sixties). In trying to bridge the gap between the inspired amateur expansiveness of the Doors-Velvet Underground scene and the bored, bitter thrash of British punk, this English sextet comes up straight Seventies: a stormy marriage of Ziggy Stardust-era David Bowie and (thanks to Duncan Kilburn's abrasive sax) garage-band Roxy Music.

The Furs are most dramatic when they start bouncing off the walls of their self-created purgatory in the sarcastic, Velvets-style bash "We Love You" and the spooky, exotic "India," with its propulsive rhythm track and rippling guitar harmonics à la Public Image Ltd. Elsewhere, these guys trip up (instead of out) in their hopelessly formless songs and the excessive, David Bowie-cum-Johnny Rotten vocal posturing of Richard Butler, who usually sounds as though he has a sore throat. Until they get their decades and priorities right, the Psychedelic Furs will continue to promise far more than they deliver. (RS 338)

DAVID FRICKE