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1991, Q
In the days since The Banshees handed down the goth mantle, many whey-faced suburbanites imagined they were subterranean at heart, to often comic effect. Not so Portsmouth's Cranes, whose bass/drum mantras, alternately grinding and airborne sheetmetal guitars and Alison Shaw's waif-like vocals have the right air of knuckle-gnawing, funereal tension and sensual grace. As if to prove a point, their second album breaks the mould before it's even set, from the opening Watersong's soft, pizzicato strings through to Adoration's florid, Gallic ambience. A grand piano is also employed, whether woven into a typically baleful Cranes melody like Living And Breathing or left to its own doomy devices on Tomorrow's Tears, where Alison Shaw's shrill wax-and-waning comes into its own. All Cranes lack is The Banshees' commercial flair.
Star Rating : (3 out of 5)
Reviewed by Martin Aston
© Q 1991
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