#Chrissie hynde and the pretenders full

Never missing a beat, she enthuses, “I love ‘Turf Accountant Daddy’ because it has a very ‘Top of the Pops,’ this British television show, feel. “On this album, I wouldn’t change anything …” As the conversation circles the various tracks, the desired outcomes, Hynde utters the most stunning words a musician can say. But nothing beats a road-forged band hitting on all cylinders. You can hear everyone at the height of their powers.”Ĭertainly working with Dan Auerbach - and his cast of rockers - on Alone created that Akron-smelted grittiness. James Walbourne is really off the scale, a guitar hero who’s just untouchable. “Martin (Chambers) is so recognizable, so powerful, and we’ve been playing together almost 50 years. “I’ve been wanting to do an album with this band … we’ve been on tour for 12 years, and the four of us together, we’ve been longing to do this the whole time but didn’t for logistical reasons. This sort of ‘old maid in the studio,’ because it doesn’t speak to everyone. I’ve heard people say, ‘It’s proper rock,’ or ‘old school.’ Whatever. “I mean, I keep doing the same thing, over and over. “Not that many people are making actual rock records,” she concedes. At a time when programming and hip-hop dominate, the immediacy to what’s been created reminds listeners why that charge from great rock ’n’ roll is so narcotic. The energy bristles the playing’s exact, ferocious. For the first time in a dozen years, Hynde recorded with her road band.

#Chrissie hynde and the pretenders full

With Hate for Sale, all those truths are on full display. It just took me a while to catch up musically.” I recognized myself in Chrissie when I first heard her. “That aspect of tough yet vulnerable is what drew me to her,” admits Lucinda Williams, whose Good Souls Better Angels is equally straight-up rock. That tough girl bravado held up, making Hynde an authentic rock voice that transcended gender without relinquishing her truth as a woman. Everything about me says, ‘This is what it is.’”įrom that moment in 1976 when the expatriated Hynde returned to America via import single – a wide-open, resolute take on The Kinks’ “Stop Your Sobbing” – the woman with the kohl liner and bangs in her eyes has been as rock ’n’ roll as Keith Richards and as feminine as Stevie Nicks. She almost laughs, then offers, “Because I don’t come out and say, ‘I’m a feminist,’ people think I’m an anti-feminist. “If that’s how someone’s perceiving (the larger truth), fair enough. Strong, tough but equally vulnerable, the ballad “Crying In Public” is as raw and shameless a lament as Hank Williams’ “ I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry.” Marked by prescience for the times and her distinctly female voice, it throat-punches. Hate For Sale, The Pretenders’ new project, careens from all-out rock to ska to old-school soul and pure pop. I don’t know if he’s supposed to be the (voice of the) male population, but I’m not representing the female population at all.”

I’m nothing like him, but he just does the same thing. If I had to relate to someone in a band, it’d be Willie Nelson, who just does his thing. I’m not trying to be the voice of a generation or anything else. “I’m not here as a spokesman for anything. “I don’t give a fuck about what other people do. “I’m only talking about one woman, and that’s this woman,” Chrissie Hynde declares on the phone from her London flat where she’s isolating in these times of COVID-19.