“Do You Believe In The Westworld” / “Propaganda” (Burning Rome BRR 2) December 1981
Theatre Of Hate | Do You Believe In The Westworld | (Burning Rome) 1981 | OK. So no single of the week, no sparkling New Year ditties, no brave stand to take us into 1982 – but at least this is the best sound I’ve heard stride out from the (sometimes) breathtakingly sombre Theatre Of Hate people.
The subject is caustic, the timing is startingly accurate – so accurate that one wonders, was it Kirk Brandon behind these Polish problems? – the message is grim.
But the melodic, breezy and, ironically, doleful taste of ‘West World’ – reminiscent in the rhythmic places of Jonathan Richman’s ‘Egyptian Reggae’ would you believe? – rides on a chart-bound thrust and captivates the weary ear.
Accessible grouching. For once. (Sounds, 02/01/82)
This one gallops and has brass on it, but as ever, it’s chiefly distinguished by the remarkably muezzin voice of Kirk Brandon.
More palatable than ‘Nero’, but in consequence less compelling, it confirms Theatre Of Hate’s place as one of the ultimate love-or-hate groups.
I confess, having been dragged into unwilling admiration of ‘Nero’, to enjoying their barely-reined cacophony, but it has been known to send grown men screaming from the vicinity of the RM gramophone.
Great for upsetting your parents / neighbours / unwanted friends with. (Record Mirror, 16/01/82)
Theatre Of Hate are always earbashing everyone; don’t take it personal, don’t take no notice. What was today’s sermon by the way? Oh, not that ol’ “Do You Believe In The Westworld?” malarky again!
I know, it’s not so much what they say as the way Kirk Brandon blasts on and on about it.
Can’t understand a word he says meself. That’s probably why they’re still on Burning Rome Records. (Melody Maker, 09/01/82)
The house that Johnny built has never been quite the same since all those brooding, bombastic progressive rock bands began slipping in through the back door – Killing Joke, The Psychedelic Furs, Bauhaus, Theatre Of Hate, Wasted Youth, UK Decay . . . an endless litany curtailed for the benefit of those prone to earache.
Even your NME has been embarrassingly tainted with a number of writers plodding up the cul-de-sac of histrionic punk regression, led by the pied-pens of Valac Van Der Veene (Sounds) and Mick Mercer (Zigzag).
That much said, the new Theatre Of Hate single is at least a slightly more promising, positive step, due in no small measure to Mick Jones’ imaginative production, which gives the song surprising clarity and focus: it seethes and simmers in a manner redolent of The Rich Kids’ finest moment, the militaristic ‘Marching Men’, respecting the value of crispness and economy – which is more than can be said of their live show. There’s a moral in there somewhere. (NME, 02/01/82)
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