Live reviewTHE TELESCOPES
SIR GEORGE ROBEY
GOUGED. Almighty. Delirium. A hailstorm from God-knows-where splitting atoms in its wake. Just a few of the words and images that I find branded into my mind, now that I've findly managed to reassemble it The Telescopes aren't just a mindf***, they obliterate from within, a million supernovae in tandem inside your head.
Like My Bloody Valentine who, when at full pelt are the closest comparison I can think of, The Telescopes themserves seem remarkably distanced from the sound, as if they're just the cogs behind the scene. Only the singer looks gripped, tensed by the guitar haze and pounded by the intense rhythm of the bass and drums. But then the sound is so stellar, that anything onstage is bound to be little more than a distraction.
This Easter Monday, summer had arrived just in time to catch them, only to find itself spla yed from here to - I would say the end of time or kingdom come but I think they just came. 1989 has to live up to The Telescopes, but I doubt it can stand the pace. They are the greatest eI(ev)ation this year and their brilliant storm is coming your way. You don't stand a chance in hell.
Originally appeared in Melody Maker April 15, 1989. Copyright © Melody Maker