Pretty Things - Cross Talk (1980)

Who would have thought it? Reunited after splitting in the mid-'70s, the Pretty Things return with a new wave album. It's not what anyone might have expected, but it's very far from a disaster. The stop-on-a-dime arrangements and natural power show them to be well-seasoned, and Phil May, with an extremely mannered voice, comes across as a taunting frontman. In fact, you tend to feel that if Thin Lizzy had eased up on the metal, they might have made an album very much like this -- great, catchy songs based in R&B and old rock & roll ("Lost That Girl") -- but with the tongue firmly in cheek (check the Sting imitation on "No Future") while pandering to fashion. But when the results are as good as the jangly "Office Love" or "I'm Calling," you really don't care where the tongue's residing. There's a sense of history about the '50s drums on "Falling Again" that no young bucks could ever match, nor could they come close to the band's overall professionalism or stinging guitar work of Peter Tolson. Any of these ten tracks would have made a great single and by rights should have returned the band to major-name status. But justice is thin on the ground in music and instead it became one of the lost Pretties albums -- a shame, since in its own lighter way, it's every bit as good as their classic albums of a decade earlier. Some reunions don't work; this one just roars.
(allmusic.com. AllMusic Review by Chris Nickson)

Something close to an all-star lineup: May, Waller, Alan, Tolson, Povey and a recussitated Dick Taylor. Co-producer John Astley was Pete Townshend's brother-in-law and had previously worked on Who Are You, and Cross Talk frequently resembles the more popular band, less Townshend's creativity or sythesizer fetish ("I'm Calling" or "Sea of Blue"). They were told old, and too commercial to have gone punk, but at least they chose a direction, which in itself was an improvement. So new wave it was, and Cross Talk fit right in with 1980: lots of electric rhythm guitars, few solos, and Povey's keyboards reduced to flourishes. May's perpetual vocal idiosyncracies make him ideal for the taut rock assembled behind him, even if he does cop Sting at one point ("No Future"). The band really focused on their songs, writing a pile of guitar-led songs that retain the old R&B flavor in parts ("I'm Calling"), and their performances are spraightly ("Edge of the Night," "The Bitter End" or "Office Love" with an odd "no sex" postscript). The songs are mostly May/Tolson, but stairwells above their previous work, and the contemporary production fruitfully boxes in Tolson's guitar lines ("Office Love"). After the confusion in their previous albums, a return to form is a splendid surprise, even if there are a few minor detours (the ballad "She Don't", or the partially tropical "Falling Again"). Cross Talk was new wave geezer rock: shiny, a bit sleezy, energetic and unthreatening. Not a renaissance, but we'll take it.
(jhendrix110.tripod.com/PrettyThings.html)