THE PRETENDERS
HATE FOR SALE
BMG
★★★★
It begins with a false start, but then The Pretenders’ 11th album explodes, all adrenalized guitar riffs and muscular drumming.
There’s doubtless a metaphor here, but either way, it’s almost the only false start they make.
One could imagine Transvision Vamp recording this title track, but it’s undeniably thrilling, with Chrissie Hynde nasal, nonchalant, and full of contempt for privileged wankers. Quite literally, in fact: the guy she’s imagining has “Money in the bank and coke in his pocket/ Porn all day, wanks like a rocket”. He’s not her type, it’s fair to say. Worse still, he eats meat This opener’s one of a number of storming tracks on the follow-up to 2016’s Alone, whose spirited nature owed much to producer Dan Auerbach. This time, Stephen Street’s behind the desk, his presence leading to a slightly more polished sound. Turf Accountant Man offers garage glam about a disloyal partner, while I Didn’t Know When To Stop’s painting metaphor, about the destructive urge for perfection, is founded on another dirty LA riff, though the track’s not as sticky as the paint of which Hynde sings.