Sounds magazine, 7.4.1984
No Songs Tomorrow (Flowmotion 004)
THROUGH THE slatted blinds, teams of hard-hatted workmen emerge in clouds of dust as
the adjoining houses slowly take shape. Inside this room there´s pictures on the wall, the TV flickers and U.V. PØP´s debut LP fills the air.
It´s a strange schizophrenic record. Two divorced facades of pale
European sound glancing, delicately, from apocalyptic acoustic ballads right through to harsh electronic anthems. John White is U.V. PØP and there´s a bit of U.V. PØP in all of us.
No Songs Tomorrow has taken a long time coming but the wait has been well worth it. White´s taken a lot of care with it, too. Carefully segregating the tracks into two distinct collections,
it´s easy to attune your listening to the most effective UV incarnation for the mood you are in.
Side one´s sub-pop acoustic twang and emotionfull selection presents the demure be-suited White. Fearlessly strumming, his
cheekbones are evident as his voice lifts to catch that all important note. He tells stories, weaves melodies with his fingers and only hints at what´s to come.
Side two is quite different. White is stripped bare. White flesh starkly contrasts against a bank of chrome and leather equipment. The vocals are more gutsy/effective/affected and the beat is
irregular. The innermost fears and passions are unleashed as the proceedings build into a magnificent crescendo through the tongue in cheek Hafunkiddies and the alarming Four Minute Warning.
John White doesn´t overburden the listener with technical bravado, instead the proceedings are kept manageable and minimal. His toying with sound never becomes self-indulgent and the result is
breathtaking. If there are no songs tomorrow from U.V. PØP, I´ll be sadly disappointed.