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Mr. Mister Album Reviews

They're not always the most flattering, but hey...to find out what critics were saying about Mr. Mister back in the 80's, read some of these review clips.

Broken Wings: 'Broken Wings' is currently at Number One in the States. Jonathon King and Gambaccini will do their utmost to see this feat repeated over here--and they will doubtless succeed.
       You already know how Mr. Mister sound; if in doubt, try holding a paper bag to your ear. Now imagine what this would be like if heard on the finest compact disc player in the world...
 
 
 
Kyrie: Sounds horribly like all those other Foreigner and REO Speedwagon-type songs and it'll probably be a hit and the singer will probably wear those ghastly white cowboy boots on Top of the Pops again...
 
 
 
Welcome to the Real World: Tell you what, if two of this lot wore tights, mini-skirts and half an inch of makeup, they'd be an American Bucks Fizz. 'Lookers', yes; 'innovative musicians', no. It's all very pleasant--nice to flop about to in a snoozy sort of way but hardly exciting. In fact, the hit 'Broken Wings' is the most "stimulating" thing here--the rest is bland halfway-there-guitar-based, could-have-been-a-computer-drum-solo formula that you've heard and probably nodded off to a million times before. - Mary Calderwood
 
 
 
Welcome to the Real World: For their impish monkier, Mr. Mister gain a star, but the depressingly trivial pop-rock they peddle on Welcome to the Real World instantly loses them four.
       I presume the band will be popular in their native America, where the public tend to lap up this sort of cadaverous semi-muzak as if it were a fresh dish of tinned custard, only to hurl it in our direction with vicious glee once they've had their fill.
       Bloodless and unreal, Mr. Mister are the musical equivalent of veal. - Mr. Spencer
 
 
 
Go On...: When it comes to derided bands, Mr. Mister have taken their fair share of criticism. Their crime is that they give rock a thoroughly bad name.
       For hiding behind the usual armory of pained vocals, keyboards and electric guitars, they are so bloody nice and polite that you feel like giving them a good kick and shouting at them until they do something thoroughly obnoxious. They wouldn't even have to enjoy it. Pretense would suffice.
       Go On...is the third poised, polished and passionless exercise in music making from these bringers of 'Broken Wings' and 'Kyrie'. The words hint at sorely tortured souls wrestling with the human predicament, the parameters of one's very being and that old favorite the Godlessness of the Modern World.
       A little overambitious, you would probably say, as the vocals seem barely able to choke back the suggestion that if we all held hands things might get better. Meanwhile the noises soothe and the eyelids become heavy.
       Mr. Mister only want to teach the world to sing. In perfect harmony, if that's at all possible. Attendance is not recommended. - Peter Kane
 
 
Mr. Mister - Live at The Marquee, London: Although I certainly don't believe in miracles, I wouldn't be lying if I said that Mr. Mister's Marquee performance was an experience almost akin to having sex with my Toto records. Indeed, I can happily reveal that this gig was perhaps the most brilliant event approaching that dangerous element of perfection I have ever attended.
       I defy anyone to say that Mr. Mister are anything but the most accomplished 'pop' band currently invading our depressing singles chart. I'd also willingly knee in the ball-bag any earwig who would dare criticize them for having the gall to increase their musical efficiency by filling (for one night only...) The Marquee with the best live sound ever.
       Packed out with what felt like most of RCA's pleased-as-pudding personnel, gloating no doubt over the fact that Mr. Mister look set to become an international act and not just a homegrown (U.S.) phenomenon, I wouldn't be telling lies if I said that nearly everyone in the smoke-filled music room was totally ga-ga with praise. Boasting a panoramic base built solidly on the finest North American traditions, they blinded the audience with a range of influences from (obviously) Steely Dan, Saga, Chicago and Toto through to what might be labeled fringe jazz rock acts like Dixie Dreggs and Weather Report. Copyists they are not, however, as they proved with the inclusion of their pair of massive hit singles--the accessible ballad 'Broken Wings' and the anthemic rocker 'Kyrie' (Number One in the U.S. charts as I write).
       But what keeps Mr. Mister apart from their many neighbors? Well, this band has the element of true greatness, the desire to reproduce recorded music to a level not seen since Jeff Beck released his 'There And Back' opus. Musicians? Yup, you guessed it, and while some might suggest that it's here the fault, if any, lies, I'd simply suggest they go wear a fire bucket in their gob.
       Adjusting the angle of my neck, I spotted a great deal of vocal and instrumental interchange, but it was Steve Farris's biting guitar work that stood level with any big name you might care to mention, adding to an incredibly agreeable and inventive evening's entertainment. I only hope their success is not limited to a few short monhths. --Derek Oliver, Kerrang!