Back in 2020, former Auteurs frontman Luke Haines and former R.E.M. guitarist Peter Buck teamed for the excellent album “Beat Poetry for Survivalists”, and now they’ve announced a follow-up. The awesomely titled “All The Kids Are Super Bummed Out” is a double album, and will be out October 28th on Cherry Red Records.
Across all the 17 tracks, Haines and Buck attempt to find out why all the kids are super bummed out, in their own twisted, surrealist, acid-fried way. The album features regular Buck collaborators Scott McCaughey and Linda Pitmon, as well as Patti Smith Group’s Lenny Kaye.
Luke Haines would eventually make four albums with The Authors. They are all excellent albums, but “New Wave” stands out for me.
Luke Haines, together with former R.E.M. guitarist Peter Buck, shakes
the excellent songs on All The Kids Are Super Bummed Out out of his sleeve again and does so again without compromise Luke Haines could have easily become one of the greatest in British music history, but before that the British musician, after the great albums of his band The Auteurs, just a bit too much what he wanted himself. Luke Haines’ solo work therefore perhaps had just a bit too many sharp edges, which were filed off a bit on the album he made two years ago with former R.E.M. guitarist Peter Buck, who has been involved in hobby projects in recent years. The collaboration between the British and the American musician gets this week a sequel to All The Kids Are Super Bummed Out, which contains songs that are as brilliant as they are uncompromising.
For more details on the album, Haines offers this:
There are mantraps at the bottom of the garden for falling fighter pilots. Richard Dadd’s dad saw it all; Richard Dadd murdered his dad (chanted the children) then hid in the maze. Marshall Applewhite was wearing a Guy Burgess mask and trading naked videos of Anthony Blunt. (Given to him by a passing gang of apes and angels) I tuned into the sound of North Korean cheerleaders being blasted out over the speakers on the outer perimeter of the maze and found my way to the sun dial, where I would bide my time doing drawings of the flying children until the helicopter arrived. I was finally bundled inside the cockpit by a Branch Davidian. ‘We are under constant aerial attack,’ said someone claiming to be a Brigadier. ‘No shit, Sherlock,’ I said, gazing up at the embassy roof. “Are you still a psychedelic sitar casual’? said the shrouded mourner, who had spent the last half century mourning Valentino. “I will let you know,’ I shot back, and carried on drawing the flying children.
You can listen to the delightfully demented rock n roll fever dream “Psychedelic Sitar Casual,” which references Boys from Brazil
The Fat Angel Sings 