Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10
A Dreamworld becomes reality when we find something that pricks the bubble of indifference and we see the blood of its creator spill into our hands as inspiration, the ideas, the flow, the passion, and perhaps the madness becomes alive; no longer delivered in forced rainbow overtones, no glorious technicolour, just a statement of intent, of powerful, and fascinating, direction.
Six years after the acclaimed Séance was released, the quartet that make up the renowned Professor And The Madman return with a gloriously weaved recording that not only smacks the uneven layering of indifference till it blurts and tantrum induced meltdown occur, but it also places the trivial and cold irrelevance into the bin of life, grinning with positivity as it does so.
Dreamworld sees Sean Elliott, Alfie Agnew, Rat Scabies, and Paul Gray reunite with purpose, with aggression, and parading an empathy of continuing themes and discoveries revealed in their previous album, and whilst it will be seen as a comeback, the truth is such luminaries never fade from the mind, they just dig down into the psyche with even greater relish and wait till the right moment to unleash the gold they have discovered.
The album is ruthless, its motivation is simple, its edge as hard as granite, but the softness, the sense of baroque influence, of 60’s mindset, it all flourishes, and with the Damned’s rhythm section of the ever-cool Rat Scabies and Paul Gray guiding, pushing the narrative and one that is amplified, magnified by the Southern punk of the California scene of Elliott and Agnew, and as tracks such as Tolerant World, Mental Tape, Strings And Tambourines, Nuclear Boy, Temple Of Madness, and the reflection of the contemplative that opens and closes the album in the record’s title track, Dreamworld pierces the air, and explodes with passion into the realm of reality with expertise and a vision that reveals all.
Dreamworld is no fantasy, it is the real thing, and Professor And The Madman have produced an ethic of music that defies explanation but only wants the listener to experience for themselves just how prick the indifferent machines and tub-thumpers of mediocrity’s minds to make them burst, make them disappear completely.
Ian D. Hall