The Curator is one Alistair Murphy. This album is presented as a journey, and features contributions from Julianne Regan (All About Eve) as well as members of Fairport Convention and King Crimson.
Maybe it’s my own personal prejudices, but reading the sleevenotes when he talks about being 16 and not getting punk does not get me off to a great start with this album. Even less so when playing it, and the you are left with the feeling that whilst there are some interesting parts on here, and some bits are ‘quite nice in a Pink Floyd sort of way’, there is lots of it that is basically EXACTLY the sort of self-indulgent toss that punk came to save us from.
There are some albums that you don’t connect with, and have to give another few listens to. There are also some albums that you feel such a complete lack of connection with it’s an endurance test to listen to the end once, never mind again.
Guess which category this comes into?
