The Hampstead, England-based quartet consisted of singer Roxanne Stephen, guitarist and second vocalist Tom Cullinan, bassist Ben Hopkin, and drummer Joe Dilworth. The group played regularly at a club called the Sausage Machine in their hometown. When the club's owners, Paul Cox and Richard Roberts, formed a new indie label, called Too Pure, Th' Faith Healers (the article's terminal E was truncated for coolness' sake) were their first signing. Their debut album appeared in the spring of 1992. Lido's eight lengthy tracks were noisy and hypnotic grooves, the quartet didn't sound like anybody else at the time. The difficult second album didn't appear until November of 1993. Imaginary Friend was darker and less manic than Lido. Th' Faith Healers broke up in the spring of 1994. Calling it quits might have seemed a good idea at the time, as their Krautrock-influenced sound was out of place back in those Britpop-saturated days. Cullinan formed a new band, Quickspace. Stephen returned to art college, Dilworth opened a photography studio, having shot many memorable band photos, as well as the iconic Loveless cover for My Bloody Valentine, and Hopkin became a tree surgeon.
Th' Faith Healers' Peel Sessions collects four previously unreleased sessions of songs, unexpected covers and old favorites from this highly influential and unheralded UK band recorded between 1992 and 1994 on John Peel's legendary radio show. On these sessions you get some of the finest gritty rock you’re likely to find. The opening three tracks here offer virtually everything you need to know about Th' Faith Healers. Hippy Hole brims with pure fury, even if it consists of little more than two lines shrieked repeatedly. Then comes the turbocharged Motorik hum of This Time, followed by the welding of Roxanne Stephen's best powerful vocals to Cullinan's jagged, sliding guitar riffs and bottom-heavy bass and drums guitar on Reptile Smile. Its relentless sound prefigured lots of the fast-tempo noise bands around today. The second session drags a bit (perhaps because they came within six months), and a couple of goofy covers (ABBA's S.O.S. and Badfinger's Without You) may have been de rigueur at the time but fail to rise above novelty. However, the latter sessions reveal a newfound bluesy swagger, wonderful bursts of noise like Bulkhead, and tee up some unreleased goodies.
A hard to classify guitar rock band with none of the fashionable influences of the early '90s – although their Krautrock fixation would go on to become a badge of hipness in the latter half of the decade – Th' Faith Healers didn't fit in the U.K. indie scene of their time, but their records hold up much better than those of many of their contemporaries. With a healthy dose of noise and less political lyrics than label mates Stereolab and PJ Harvey, Th' Faith Healers' brilliance came from the intense energy found in their songs, made all the more explicit by these recordings, which fill in the gaps between their Too Pure releases and also includes tracks that would have appeared on their third album had it ever actually been recorded. Like a lot of bands, the Peel Session format brings out the best in Th' Faith Healers – retaining their immediacy while imposing just enough structure and budget to avert a lo-fi mess. For this reason, these Sessions are actually preferable to a greatest hits compilation. They are a worthy spin for both newcomers to and aficionados of Th' Faith Healers.
Considering that Marilyn Manson never pandered to the Top 40 set, Lest We Forget can't rightfully be dubbed a greatest-hits record; it serves more as a reminder of the man and his group's 10-year blitz of ghoulish, gory, industrial rock