In 1981/82 I read an article in Creem magazine about the Furs. Richard Butler (or was it Ashton?) mentioned how the music is best enjoyed through headphones after a puff. I agree. Their first two albums are incredible: thick walls of dueling guitars, each playing intertwining riffs/notes, big Spector-sounding drums, and of course Butler's cigarette smoke scarred throat croaking out his disgust with people (Sartre's "hell is other people"), social conventions/inventions, "there isn't any reason/there isn't any sense"--- and I wholeheartedly agree.

Richard Butler has the perfect voice for this type of music. Sort of Johnny Rotten on Valium. Yes, many people did (and will) buy this just for Pretty in Pink. There are a ton of other great songs here too though. Granted, some sound a little alike, and the Furs seemed to have trouble writing endings to their songs, but the sound they had was so unique and killer. A little goth, a little tribal, a little new wave, and even a little psychedelic.

Back in the day, I flat wore this record out. Played it more than Iron Maiden and The Sex Pistols put together.

It has what a lot of great records have. Layers. The 80's jangle guitar, the hard riff guitar, horns, a really disaffected vocal style throughout, solid basswork, drums that never bore. The lyrics create a great sense of space, are concrete enough to relate to, but ambigious enough to withstand heavy repeat listening.

It's a Steve Lillywhite produced record, and he was to the early 80's what Rick Rubin would be to the 90's.

After this record, the band got smaller (ie the texture went away), and while Forever Now is a really good follow-up, the writing was on the wall and they would kind of fade-out like acts do.

Skip the compilations and soundtracks. Get the first three Psychedelic Furs albums. Quintessential 80's. I can still listen to all three, almost 30 years later and that makes them classic.

This is the best Furs album, despite what later happened with the song Pretty in Pink.

This music blew me away when it came out. At eighteen, I really thought I'd heard it all. I'd gone through my rebellious phase and snuck out to see Rocky Horror a gazillion times, I'd become a loyal listener to both of the cool weekly punk shows: Mike Halloran's "Radios in Motion" on the Wayne State U. public radio station and "W-4 Play" on Detroit's WWWW (which, unbeknownst to the DJ's, was soon to be sold and turned overnight into a country station). Mike's show was especially great for catching the new and imported acts. But the P-furs didn't sound like anything else, despite the Steve Lilywhite production. Metallic, yet melodic. That gravelly voice of Richard Butler set against a velvet saxaphone. Can such pretty pop come out of such hard-edged punk?

This particular disc, thanks to its role in introucing us to the "Pretty in Pink" single, was accompanied by a pair of pink panties, initially. Or, it may be that Mike and other DJ's just got one as a promotional gag (artists had to get creative after payola was outlawed, after all, although what Mike Halloran would do with a pair of pink panties, I will not speculate here).

I especially love the version of Pretty in Pink on this disk. It is quite different than that on the soundtrack of the film, Pretty in Pink, which was made some seven or eight years after this recording and has nothing to do with it. The song has a different meaning entirely, empathizing with a girl--perhaps a prostitute-- who keeps hoping the men whom she lets use her will turn out to love her, when obviously that's not likely. And it was re-recorded for the film in a much more "refined" way, even as a "solo" for Richard Butler. A lot of the edge is taken out, some of the saxaphone solo isn't there, and it loses some of the darkness of the earlier version.

"It Goes On," "Dumb Waiters", and "Into You Like a Train" have riffs boppy enough to dance to. "I Just Want To Sleep With You" pretty much says it just like it is. My very favorite, bringing together a wistful melody with a dreamlike lyric is "All of This and Nothing". Girl leaves boy, and girl leaves behind stuff, but nothing makes sense to him.

P. Furs told the world in name, style and lyric that rebellion and fashion could co-habitate freely. Yes, we knew that already from the Stones and David Bowie, but it doesn't hurt to be reminded by the pros.

Talk Talk Talk is the Furs at the height of their game, exhilarating and dense, with one riveting piece of candy-coated trash after another floating out of the speakers. In my own punk heydey, this was killer choice stuff -- even though it's not really punk at all -- and came at a time when doctrinal rigidity to crud like hardcore or straightcore or whatever didn't mean diddly. Talk Talk Talk came out at a time before radio had completed its terrible march to niche segregation, and exciting music was coming at kids from all corners. Punk and new wave stuff led the blast. The Furs were among the best and most disposable at the same time. One quibble with the Amazon reviewer: He takes a crack at what followed this from the Furs, but Forever Now is a very good record that, with the devastating Brechtian nightmare of "Easy Street" and sweet metalic joy of "Yes I Do" and when they went all mushy on us ("Heaven," "The Ghost In You") it was still irresistable. Last great one for me: "Until She Comes."