This came out in 1998 – or at least that’s when I got it. Here’s what I said about it back then (with some minor editing):
The name refers to some nasty gastrointestinal conditions, and fair enough: There’s no denying that England’s Prolapse are gutsy, aggressive, intrusive and out there.
Their music — clanging, jangling, churning and droning — might remind you of The Fall covering Stereolab. But they’re also pretty cerebral. And their vocals — a war of words between Linda Steelyard’s dreamy-girl crooning and Mick Derrick’s Irvine Welsh-like ranting and raving — are their real secret weapon. More debate than duet, their swordplay wordplay creates a richly layered, tensely surreal world where turmoil, chaos and entropy have never sounded better.
