Breakloose: Lost La's 1984-1986

AMG Review of Breakloose: Lost La's 1984-1986

Jack Rabid
All Music Guide

What a tease. Liverpool's The La's released only one LP, 1990's exceptional The La's (with some incredible melodies, such as the undying, beloved, ever-covered, "There She Goes," as well as the equally stunning duo of "I Can't Sleep" and "Timeless Melody"), so the prospect of a whole 'nother 14 songs from unknown vaults, of earliest days, sounds tantalizing. But this turns out to be crude demos, and cruder live recordings, of a group that was barely underway. Before the great (if entirely frustrating) Lee Mavers maliciously forced his songwriting partner-and the band's frontman-Mike Badger out the door (in order to take over the singing duties and triple the tuneful quotient of the songs, both necessary, judging from Lost La's!), the original lineup was a below-average band with merely OK songs, and, most of all, an inconsequential singer about to be replaced by a stupendous one. Matched to less-than-optimal recordings, the results are beyond disappointing, approaching pointless. What story there is here is purely historical. We know the answers, we're merely searching for the questions. A few selections are keepers, despite the low-fi audio, such as "Open Your Heart," "What Do You Do," and "Trees and Plants" (and "Moonlight," with Mavers' finally, clearly discernible on backing vocals). A few others, such as "Red Deer Stalk" and especially, "My Girl Sits Like a Reindeer," were cashed in for later, much better The La's tunes with different words/lyrics, while "Get Down Over" also foreshadows the classic-pop to come. But that's being charitable. With help from new bassist John Power (who is on three songs here, so this might also entice curiosity from fans of the successful post-La's band he leads, Cast), Mavers would soon retool and remodel, jettison the pointless jams, and build on the embryonic stylistic ideas of Lost La's to make something more "timeless." He would then self-destruct in prodigious temper tantrums any time the band was ordered to record in a proper studio, even disowning The La's. He's become a cult of sullen mystery ever since, reclusive, supporting a family on substantial royalties generated every year by "There She Goes." Perhaps The La's is all that can be shaken from his talented pockets, though we would prefer to "breakloose" the famous demos he so loved (that led to the band's 1987 signing), or some other artifact of his leadership. Badger's Lost La's probably could have remained missing.