Few bands understand the pulse of a city as well as X. Formed in 1977 amid sunshine and smog, the quartet’s debut album, the claustrophobic and unflinching Los Angeles, released in 1980, bypassed the apparent glitz and glam of the City of Angels and, instead, without blinking, stared hard at its listless and troubled underbelly.
Theirs was a world of emotional dislocation, sex offenders and friends with moral compasses blunted by racism. As the American music critic Greil Marcus so memorably put it, "X’s vision isn’t fragmented, it’s not second-hand, and its ambition is to discredit any vision that says there’s more to life than X says there is."
Forty-four years later, at last, we’ve reached the end of the line. But while Smoke & Fiction, the group’s ninth album, is advertised as being their last, at least the ability to speak of what most other LA bands choose to ignore remains present and correct. On the propulsive Big Black X, the sight is of 'The Hollywood letters falling down'. As ever, vocalists Exene Cervenka and John Doe sing in a strange and unique harmony. 'Stay awake and don’t get taken,' is their warning, 'we knew the gutter, and also the future.'