Infected

Album Review

Infected's sound still suggests dance-pop, especially on the title track. But don't get the impression that it's made for dancing. Instead of the light fare displayed on Soul Mining, Infected's songs seethe instead of preen, and Matt Johnson's lyrics are laced with tension. Thematically, he plunges a lance into the exposed midsection of Great Britain, analyzing the state of modern urban life in the country. "This is the land where nothing changes," Johnson sings on the World Party-ish "Heartland." "A land of red buses and blue bloody babies/This is the place where the hearts are being cut from the welfare state." "Angels of Deception" matches rain-slicked verses to a powerful chorus flavored with gospel backup singers and enormous reverb percussion. With production tricks like this, Infected aligns itself with the dance-pop sound of its predecessor (and the prevailing sound of British pop music at the time). But there's no denying the record's acerbic lyricism or dark-toned instrumentation. "Sweet Bird of Truth" is gritty pop tinged with wartime radio chatter and muscular horns that somehow manage to be apocalyptic, and the sweaty finale "Mercy Beat" has a drink with the devil while dance-pop burns brightly in the background, sending embers into the London night sky. Synthesized horns and crashing drums converge around a mirthful Johnson lyric before the song finally fades to the weird tones of a looped guitar. Infected was the first true indication of Johnson's mercurial nature, and established the dissonance and reinvention of his later work. [The 2002 Sony reissue of Infected features 24-bit remastering.]