Pretenders - Rock is a woman

Some rockers, who started out with a band, have effectively become its sole architects, even while continuing to perform under the group's name. Mark Knopfler was, for half his career, the only author in Dire Straits; David Sylvian left little room for the other Japan members (Mick Karn excepted); after Brian Eno's amicable departure, Roxy Music became Bryan Ferry's backing band, not to mention Robert Fripp's despotic King Crimson. The same happened with Chrissie Hynde, the only permanent member (drummer Martin Chambers would briefly flee the fold) and author of almost all the Pretenders' songs. A band whose finest hours came above all with the original line-up's first two albums and the two that followed, showcasing a blend of new wave sophistication, punk energy, R&B rhythms and melodic verve à la Kinks, enhanced by the leader's voice, a gorgeous vibrato, and by the skill of the musicians involved (the group in particular would boast three excellent guitarists: Honeyman-Scott, McIntosh, Seymour).

An American in London

Raised in Ohio during the transition between the hippie and punk eras, young Christine Elaine Hynde moved to London after finishing college and set about storming Swinging London as a critic for NME, thanks to her friendship with journalist Nick Kent. The experience didn't thrill her, though, and to make ends meet she found work as a shop assistant at Vivienne Westwood's famous "Sex" boutique (from which she'd be fired for hitting a customer with a bell!).

But Chrissie had clear ideas. And one fixation in mind: to become the leader of a band. Struck by the rock'n'roll bug thanks to idols like Kinks and Byrds, she tried her hand with two obscure outfits, Masters Of The Backside and The Moors Murderers. But it was on the third attempt that she hit the mark: she gathered a group of musicians and founded the Pretenders (a tribute to the Platters' hit The Great Pretender, later covered by Freddie Mercury). Alongside her, in the original line-up, were Martin Chambers on drums, James Honeyman-Scott on guitar and Pete Farndon on bass.

Their debut album, Pretenders, came out in 1980, after new wave had already taken off. The Pretenders, however, presented themselves with an aesthetic that still bore the marks of a transitional phase: punk leather jackets, (caricature-like) tough-guy poses, white shirts and black ties à la Patti Smith, mod-style pale blue blazers, attempts to épater les bourgeois with the "Kid On Rent" t-shirt. Emblematic is Chalkie Davies' striking cover photo, which captures the four of them against a light background, all dressed in black except for Hynde in her red leather jacket. But the leader's trademark was her black fringe, cut long down to her eyes, Louise Brooks- or Crepax's Valentina-style. Her striking figure, provocative poses, and winks (to put it mildly) in her lyrics and vocal delivery made her a worthy rival to Debbie Harry, who would nonetheless go on to achieve a more enduring iconic status.

By the time the album came out, the Pretenders were no outsiders: they had already broken into the charts thanks to three hit singles: "Stop Your Sobbing", a terrific cover of a Kinks song produced by Nick Lowe, the driving, catchy "Kid", and above all the reggae-rock of "Brass in Pocket", which shot to the top of the charts, winning over even sir Paul McCartney, who was quick to book the band for his Cambodia benefit concert.

Produced by Chris Thomas, Pretenders confirms the band's stature over the long haul too. "This record runs longer than average, so it should be played loud," the liner notes read. And indeed it's impossible to look away from this potent blend of punk and new wave, driven by a relentless, densely electric pulse. Just take the fiercely vigorous "Precious", a charging guitar-rock ride on which Hynde reigns supreme with her sensual, outrageous spoken delivery, or the syncopated, jittery "Tattooed Love Boys", where a relentless rhythm section backs Honeyman-Scott's guitar inventions, or again the jarring, propulsive "Mystery Achievement", with its blazing solos and the leader's anguished performance. Sudden changes of pace also drive the taut "The Phone Call", while the blast of "The Wait" is perhaps the most punk episode of the lot.

But the Pretenders aren't just rock'n'roll and adrenaline. In fact, they always have the right ballad for the right moment up their sleeve. Like the elegant "Lovers Of Today", which arrives almost at the close of the tracklist to dramatically soften the tone, revealing for the first time the most velvety shade of Chrissie Hynde's voice. The long tour de force of "Private Life" deserves a separate mention, a soft-rock mantra set ablaze by Honeyman-Scott's riffs, which brings out Hynde's performing talents, seductive and wicked in the role of a femme fatale bored by other people's romantic torments (“Private life, drama baby leave me/ Getting tired of your theatrics, your acting is a drag/ It’s okay on T.V. ‘cause you can turn it off/ But don’t try me/ Yes your marriage is a tragedy but it’s not my concern/ I’m very superficial I hate anything official… Your sentimental gestures only bore me to death”). A tour-de-force that would be matched a few months later by Grace Jones in a majestic cover. "Private Life" would also become the main theme of Italian director Massimo Pirri's film "Tunnel (Eroina)" (1983).

Even a track as respectable as the outtake "Cuban Slide" was left off this excellent tracklist.

Pretenders would reach the top of the UK Chart, where it stayed for four consecutive weeks, and would also break into the Billboard top 10, cementing the absolute quality of this hybrid sound - part hard rock, part rhythm and blues, part (post-)punk - with its undeniable melodic appeal, forged on Honeyman-Scott's guitar inventiveness, on the pulsing rhythm section, skilfully balanced between tradition and new wave spasms, and on the singer's superb vocal performances, one of the first and most powerful female bandleaders in the history of rock.

Chrissie is more than ever the superstar of the band, with her seductive, brazen personality earning her a fixture spot in the gossip columns of the era, thanks in part to her stormy relationship with Mr. Kinks, Ray Davies, with whom she'll also have a daughter, Natalie.

The band realizes it's riding high and, just a few months later, releases the sequel, Pretenders II (1981). This time the four of them pile on more frills for the cover photo, but fewer on the record itself. Although the surprises are fewer than on the debut, the sound still works a treat, confirming Lady Hynde's state of grace. There's still the mix of punk and new wave that underpinned the first record; there's still the singer's intense erotic charge; there's still the urge to kick up a racket, though this time it's more often tempered by melancholy songs.

The lead single is "Talk Of The Town" (named after a London club), driven by a Byrds-like swagger, with its chiming guitar twang and Hynde's seductive vocal lines, nodding to Sixties muses like Sandie Shaw and Dusty Springfield. Besides the snarling "Message Of Love", the pairing of "Birds Of Paradise" and "The English Roses" also shines, two enveloping ballads built on guitar cadences that confirm the band's class even when it eases off its power-rock fury. But the real masterstroke is another Kinks cover, "I Go To Sleep", turned into a lullaby of aching tenderness that would melt even the stoniest British hearts, reaching No. 7 on the UK chart. Finally, "Bad Boys Get Spanked" features the voice of Clint Eastwood in his "Dirty Harry" guise.

Softer and less explosive than the debut, Pretenders II places the band within a more classic pop-rock vein, still tinged with punk and wave influences but more accessible to the mainstream audience, nonetheless earning solid reviews and strong sales.

Swimming Out of the Nightmare

But right at the peak of their popularity, the Pretenders are struck down by a double, devastating tragedy. On June 16, 1982, James Honeyman-Scott is found dead from a drug-related collapse; less than a year later, on April 14, 1983, Pete Farndon — who had in the meantime become romantically involved with the band's leader — also dies of an overdose.

Though torn apart by grief, Chrissie Hynde decides to carry on, effectively reinventing the band and taking full control of it. In '83 she brings back Chambers and, together with the superbly skilled guitarist Robbie McIntosh and bassist Malcolm Foster, revives the Pretenders name, giving life to what is, alongside the debut, unquestionably the group's best record: Learning To Crawl.

It took strength to recover; Hynde has more than enough to top her previous records. There's more gravity, more melancholy, more sarcasm. In the cover photo the four musicians are shot from above, almost crushed by fate yet still standing, black shapes set against a pale blue background, as if you were looking up at them with your head tilted back; through the leader's fringe you can just make out a defiant look, though one now stripped of arrogance.

The opening trio alone would be enough to make Learning To Crawl (1983) a great record: the garage-blues of "Middle Of The Road", driven by a relentless drumbeat, unleashes forceful vocals and a mighty guitar solo, culminating in Hynde's final harmonica outburst; "Back On The Chain Gang" (with Tony Butler on bass and Billy Bremner on lead guitar) is a poignant tribute to Honeyman-Scott, built entirely around interlocking guitar lines, with Hynde's vocals set against choral backing; while the slow-burning menace of "Time The Avenger", a cutting reflection on a businessman's extramarital affairs, seals one of the finest expressions of Hynde's art.

But the rest of the record also keeps up the pace without a single dip. From the splendid Persuaders cover "A Thin Line Between Love And Hate" to the power-rock outburst of "Watching The Clothes", from the gorgeous ballad "Show Me" to the energetic country of "Thumbelina". There's also room for a bitter reflection on the decline of the Midwest in the heartfelt "My City Was Gone". And even the seemingly risky (on paper) Christmas song "2000 Miles" shines, soft and alluring, with yet another standout vocal performance.

Having smoothed out the punk rough edges of their early days, the Pretenders forge a classic, mature style that borrows the folk-rock exuberance of the Byrds, the melodic pop grace of the Kinks, and the urban neuroses of new wave, all powered by an energy and determination of which their leader is now the absolute living embodiment. And Hynde continues to make headlines in the tabloids too, when she leaves Ray Davies to get together with the young Jim Kerr of Simple Minds, with whom the Pretenders share a tour. It's love at first sight: before the tour is even over, in New York, the two tie the knot.

The show isn't over: in 1985, with Chambers gone (replaced by ex-Haircut One Hundred man Blair Cunningham) and virtually no one left from the old lineup except McIntosh, a new offensive is launched, aimed more at the market (especially the Japanese one) than at the critics. Get Close: a title that sounds like a perfume name, a cover shot with our heroine inviting listeners to do just that, get close, and the second monster hit (and the best of the three), "Don't Get Me Wrong", complete with a fine video.

There's also the erotic, orientalist shamanism, Bowie-style, of "Tradition Of Love"; the dance-floor move of, inevitably, "Dance!" (or the softer "My Baby"); the stern rebuke aimed at Black musicians who sold their souls for commercial success (perhaps a point better made on a different record) in "How Much Did You Get For Your Soul"; and the desire to raise a hymn to womanhood with "Hymn To Her". Finally, there's room for a cover of "Room Full Of Mirrors", on which good old McIntosh is asked to channel Jimi Hendrix.

Here too, unfortunately, a great song is left off: "World Within Worlds", which would have boosted the energy of a record that leans a little too blatantly into the territory of romantic, conventional pop-rock.

Chrissie Dances Alone

After supporting U2 on the The Joshua Tree Tour (memorable the Rome show, which also featured Lone Justice and Big Audio Dynamite) and having delivered one of the best performances at Live Aid - thanks above all to a version of "Back On The Chain Gang" more aggressive than the studio one - the Pretenders head into a decline that, barring a few exceptions, will deepen over the following decade.

Hynde returns to Wembley as a backing vocalist for Bob Dylan and sings a beautiful version of "I Shall Be Released" at Madison Square Garden for the 30th anniversary of the Duluth songwriter's career.

It's a period of collaborations, not always of great quality.

Hynde teams up with UB40 for two terrifying reggae-pop singles ("Breakfast In Bed" and the cover of Sonny Bono & Cher's "I Got You Babe"); she sings with Cher, Neneh Cherry and Eric Clapton on the annihilatingly ugly single "Love Can Build A Bridge"; with the Moodswings for the lovely, lively reworking of "State Of Independence" by Jon Anderson and Vangelis (already covered by Donna Summer). There's even a disco moment, with her vocal take on Tube & Berger's "Straight Ahead".

Things go better with soundtracks: in 1987 the Pretenders (by then a brand name behind which hid Chrissie Hynde and a cast of session players) put their name to the aching ballad "If There Was A Man" for the closing credits of "The Living Daylights", the first of the two Bond films with Timothy Dalton; two years later came "Windows Of The World/1969", a single for the theme of the film "1969", featuring another classic ballad with graceful melodic clothing and an unexpected cover of the Stooges classic.

Before the Eighties come to an end, there's time to put the Pretenders' hits in order with the compilation The Singles (1987), a solid guide to their career. Chrissie Hynde, on the other hand, seems mostly intent on pursuing her individual collaborations - like the one with Elvis Costello on "Spike" and the one alongside Johnny Thunders and Patti Palladin on "Copy Cats". Meanwhile, her marriage to Jim Kerr also ends: the separation is made official in 1988.

Back on the middle of the road

The Nineties open with the disappointing Packed! (1990), which isn't rescued even by the illustrious presence of Mitchell Froom on keyboards and behind the mixing desk. On the energetic "Never Do That" and "Sense Of Purpose", Hynde edges uncomfortably close to self-parody, even as she confirms vocal gifts well out of the ordinary, which by now have spawned dozens of disciples across the rock world. The lyrics, too, have lost the vibrant intensity of her early work, retreating into workmanlike songwriting, where even the autobiographical tale of the end of her marriage to Kerr is told in a bland key, never baring its claws.

So, besides the dreamy cover of Jimi Hendrix's "May This Be Love", the most significant moments are tracks like "Let's Make A Pact" and "When Will I See You", done in collaboration with Johnny Marr of the Smiths, which try to recount romantic affairs from a more mature, deeper perspective, leaving behind the rebelliousness of the early days.

The Pretenders also keep working on soundtracks: in '93 comes a refined cover of 10cc's "I'm Not In Love" for the film "Indecent Proposal", and in '97 two singles will arrive for "G.I. Jane".

In the Nineties, the only real coup (besides the arrival of virtuoso guitarist Adam Seymour) will be a new hit single: "I'll Stand By You", a crowd-pleasing lament, not especially emotional nor moving, though crafted with good professional skill. But it will also prove the band's curse: in the collective imagination, Pretenders will no longer mean raw, direct rock, but conventional, calculated pop.

"I'll Stand By You" is the lead single from the album Last Of The Independents (1994), which marks the return of Chambers, the only other original-lineup member alongside the leader, naturally.

In the tracklist, the only songs that stand out are the adrenaline-fuelled "Night In My Veins" and "Hollywood Perfume", almost a rekindling of the guitar sound of the debut, the riot-girl manifesto "Rebel Rock Me" ("I'm a rebel... mama!"), and the fine, faithful cover of dear old Dylan's "Forever Young". But emphatic tracks like "I'm A Mother", "977" and "Revolution" are merely a faded copy of the band's original fire. The lyrics too - a mix of out-of-time brashness and feminist clichés - leave one puzzled, with slogan-like lines such as ⟦Q1⟧ ("977") and ⟦Q2⟧ ("Revolution").

The album, nonetheless, manages to pull the band back out of obscurity, returning them to the charts thanks to the success of "I'll Stand By You", and gives Hynde the chance to claim seniority over all the decade's new skirted rockers, while also renewing her social commitment, defending animal rights and the environmentalist cause with Greenpeace.

What follows is the successful live venture Isle Of View (with its neat pun), an unplugged set featuring Damon Albarn (Blur), on which Hynde stands out for a cover of the ubiquitous Radiohead song "Creep", and Seymour for playing an acoustic guitar as if it were electric on "Night In My Veins".

At a ripe 48 years old, the indomitable Chrissie Hynde gets back in the saddle, reigning on the fire-red cover with clenched fist and rebel swagger on ¡Viva el Amor! (1999). Aiming a venomous thought at the new generations of pretty, soulless stars crowding the decade's music scene: "Popstar" is a new torrential talking-song in the style of "Middle Of The Road", dripping with sarcasm: “La tua nuova fidanzata vuole essere una popstar/ Ma è prevedibile come l’Apocalisse/ Non le fanno più come una volta/ Ti conveniva stare con me…”. It almost seems like a portrait of Patsy Kensit, the platinum-blonde chanteuse-girl from Eighth Wonder with whom Jim Kerr consoled himself after the end of his relationship with Hynde. But explicitly in the firing line is the unfortunate Kylie Minogue (“Who all the designers send all their new clothes/ But when she starts to look like Kylie Minogue/ She might even get her picture in Vogue”), along with a squad of unnamed stars of the moment, among whom one can easily spot Madonna, Alanis Morissette and the Spice Girls, with lines as sharp as “And when her most recent therapist/ Suggests that maybe she become a buddhist/ She might even consider giving up red meat”. In short, Hynde is an old-school rockeuse, a self-made woman who, by now irrevocably âgée, struggles to accept the new female icons of rock, more or less manufactured in a lab.

But after the initial bite, "Human" brings back the plush touch of the Pretenders balladeer, masters — though by now also seasoned pros — at measuring out the right melodic ingredients, as confirmed by other softer tracks ("From The Heart Down", "Biker" and the Joplin-esque "One More Time"). On the rock side, the trio of "Nails In The Road"-"Dragway 42"-"Legalise Me" sets out to revive the old verve, but ends up bogged down in a grown-up, somewhat flabby soul-rock. In the end, the most original track turns out to be a cover: the evocative "Rabo de Tune di Silvio Rodriguez", sung in Spanish in a suggestive, atmospheric setting.

A couple of high-profile guests (Jeff Beck, David Johansen) and production by the Stephen Hague-Stephen Street tandem round out the points of interest in a record that doesn't add much of significance to the band's catalogue, though it does bring them back up to a decent standard. For Hynde, in any case, it's a record to wave like a flag: proof of a true lady of rock proudly reasserting her authority, with no intention of stepping aside. Least of all in favour of those "popstars" mentioned earlier.

Last of the indiependents

In the meantime, however, the Pretenders' two-decade partnership with Wea comes to an end. The major music industry no longer has any real interest in the Pretenders, so there's nothing left to do but try their luck in the indie circuit.

Released by the new label Artemis Records, produced by ex-Comsat Angels member Kevin Bacon together with Jonathan Quarmby, the album Loose Screw (2002) is a fairly original but lacklustre collection of songs, in which the Pretenders try their hand mainly at reggae. Jamaican rhythms stir tracks like "Time", "Complex Person" and "Nothing Breaks Like A Heart", amid chaotic guitar riffs, dub keyboards and tribal percussion.

New angry invectives, full of recrimination (the electronic power-rock of the single "Lie To Me", but also "Kinda Nice, I Like It" and "Clean Up Woman") seem instead to reflect Chrissie's turmoil following her separation from her second husband, Lucho Brieva. A ghost that resurfaces, with particular bitterness, amid the strings of "I Should Of": “When we made love/ Sometimes it was great/ Just once or twice/ I would’ve called it second-rate/ Anyway, the days passed by in peace/ I never thought you needed more release”.

On the melodic front, "Saving Grace" (essentially a remake of "Show Me") and "I Wish You Love" stand out, with Hynde drawing on Charles Trenet ("Che cosa resta"), before a long and not entirely necessary instrumental coda.

There's also, as usual, a cover — in this case "Walk Like A Panther" by All Seeing I, co-written with Jarvis Cocker of Pulp, which sounds almost prophetic of the unlucky Hynde's marital fate: "Miguel has set up home with a woman half my age/ A half-wit in a leotard stands on my stage". Such things happen to a "Complex Person", as she describes herself in a clear-eyed self-portrait.

After the box set Pirate Radio (four CDs packed with demos and rarities, plus a DVD of British TV appearances), Chrissie shuffles the deck once again. For the new album she assembles a fresh line-up of musicians, including guitarist James Walbourne (ex-Pernice Brothers), Eric Heywood on pedal steel guitar and bassist Nick Wilkinson; Chambers remains part of the band, but due to health reasons doesn't take part in the recording sessions, replaced behind the drums by Jim Keltner.

Musically too, Break Up The Concrete (Shangri-La, 2008) marks a turning point, veering into roots and country-rock territory. But confusion reigns supreme. As Ira Robbins wrote, "much of the record sounds like it's being played by a bar-band honky-tonk outfit struggling through the soundcheck". Even Hynde's voice sounds subdued, as in the boogie of "Don't Cut Your Hair", or even slurred into a strange nasal register on "Almost Perfect", which wearily rehashes old sexist clichés (“Autistic, repetitious/ People-phobically suspicious/ With an oversized schlong”, in other words: when size helps make psychological problems easier to accept...).

The Dylan-esque single "Boots Of Chinese Plastic" tries to turn fortunes around, drawing on the nervous frenzy of the band's early days, while elsewhere there's an attempt, with little success, to revive the lost groove through rock'n'roll bursts, backing vocals and maracas ("Love's A Mystery", "Break Up The Concrete", "The Last Ride"). There's yet another cover too: "Rosalee", taken from the repertoire of fellow Akron residents Numbers Band.

In Italy, the album is released alongside yet another greatest hits compilation. But the whole operation passes almost unnoticed on both sides of the Atlantic.

The Pretenders are by now simply the band backing Chrissie Hynde through superb live outbursts, in which the pop songs of the latter part of her career sit well — despite the lack of consistency — alongside the vibrant rock tracks of the early days.

But their past still yields a touch of glory. In 2003, at Johnny Ramone's invitation, they take part in the album "We're a Happy Family – A Tribute To Ramones", with a cover of "Something To Believe In". And in March 2005 they quietly step into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. A more than deserved milestone for the band and for a true rockeuse like Chrissie Hynde, who, despite countless attempts at imitation (from the '90s generation of Liz Phair, PJ Harvey and Ani DiFranco to the more recent one of the excellent Eleanor Friedberger and Anna Calvi), still struggles to receive all the recognition she deserves.

In 2014 Chrissie Hynde releases her solo debut, Stockholm, a lighter, more pop-oriented work compared to what she regularly delivered with the Pretenders, boasting prestigious guests such as Neil Young. In her intentions, the following Alone was meant to be the follow-up to that record. In the recording studios in Nashville, however, Chrissie and a team led by Dan Auerbach of the Black Keys – acting as producer and guitarist – realised the sound was that of a classic Pretenders album. So why not dust off the old band's name?

Made in just two weeks, Alone (2016) tries to capture the energy that had defined the band's early days, between cutting guitars and lean arrangements, and – in part – it succeeds. As on the title track, which harks back to the legendary "Precious" (openly quoted, complete with "Fuck Off!"): a driving rock'n'roll number, with a riff à la Keith Richards, saloon-style western piano and spoken-sung vocals in the style of Lou Reed. Or as on "Gotta Wait", which recaptures the frenetic rhythm of the Pretenders' first two albums. The tribute to their own glorious past continues with "Chord Lord", practically a cross between "Lovers Of Today" and "Up The Neck". "Never Be Together", meanwhile, is keen to remind us of the full extent of Hynde's influence on Shirley Manson of Garbage.

The album's tone reflects the place where it was recorded: there's no shortage of dusty tracks, with blues and country touches and a few distant noir echoes borrowed from the more recent work of Lana Del Rey (not coincidentally, Auerbach had contributed to the making of "Ultraviolence"). Chrissie's voice holds up well and still manages to move listeners on "Blue Eyed Sky", a classy ballad. The closing track, "Holy Commotion", stands apart from the rest, steeped in vintage sounds, somewhere between 50s choruses and 80s synths.

The leitmotif of Alone, as the title already suggests, is solitude, a subject tackled with brutal honesty (and with a few excesses, for instance in the not-entirely-successful "I Hate Myself") by the indomitable Chrissie, who points out how underrated being alone is, because "loneliness lets you get to know yourself better, you have to grasp its positive sides".

To celebrate the fortieth anniversary of their debut album, Pretenders release their eleventh studio album, the shortest of their career (just 30 minutes!), which carries on the work of its predecessor. Indeed, Hate For Sale (2020) also seems like a record made specifically to please longtime fans, with constant nods to the band's glorious past. Starting with the lead single, "The Buzz", which tries to rekindle the glories of "Kid" with results that are anything but negligible. Chrissie Hynde has always had certain melodic hooks in her DNA, there's no denying it: that's confirmed by "You Can't Hurt A Fool", which joins her already extensive repertoire of ballads, and above all by "Maybe Love Is In NYC", perhaps the most inspired track of the bunch.

The reggae rhythms of "Lightning Man" inevitably bring to mind "Private Life", among the most intense tracks on their celebrated self-titled debut, while the frantic chorus of "Turf Accountant Daddy" instead winks at "Precious". On "I Didn't Know When To Stop", propelled by a driving riff from guitarist James Walbourne (co-writer of all ten tracks), Chrissie's never-dormant love for ex-partner Ray Davies' Kinks resurfaces. The carefree - and almost teenage - garage-rock double bill of "Junkie Walk" and "Didn't Want To Be This Lonely" underlines, once again, the full vital energy of this indomitable sixty-nine-year-old, who in the end gives in to the intimate confession of "Crying In Public".

No matter if on the title track, with its all-too-timely title, you almost get the impression of listening to a song in which Elastica (or some other band of Hynde & co. imitators) are aping Pretenders: the parodic effect, intentional or not, still comes across as fun and ironic.

A decent comeback, then, produced moreover by a heavyweight of British rock such as Stephen Street, longtime collaborator of Smiths, Blur and Cranberries.

Three years later, Relentless (2023) pushes even further in terms of songwriting. With a sincerity that is at times downright disarming, as on the opening track "Losing My Sense Of Taste", marked by dark post-punk atmospheres and lyrics that are almost unsettling in their honesty, with Chrissie admitting she's gone through pre-senile dementia or some kind of psychosis and that now she doesn't even care about rock'n'roll anymore ("I don't even care about rock and roll/ All my old favorites seem tired and old"). An album, then, that's raw and authentic from the very first notes, one that has won over the English-speaking press thanks also to a certain typically new wave tension harking back to the band's best years: "A Love" rides on a repetitive, hypnotic riff, while "Vainglorious", the most punk track of the lot, follows in the style of the immortal "Precious", the opening track of Pretenders' historic debut.

A certain grandiosity emerges instead on tracks like "The Promise Of Love" and "Merry Widow", the latter also enhanced by the psychedelic guitar digressions of the talented James Walbourne, a multi-instrumentalist who has previously worked with Ray Davies and the Pogues. The album's main co-writer, handling a variety of instruments (from the mellotron to the piano), he also takes care of the backing vocals. Drummer Martin Chambers is absent this time, replaced here by Kris Sonne: Hynde thus remains the only surviving member of Pretenders' original line-up.

The singer-guitarist from Akron favors low notes more than ever on this record, but her voice can still be intense and is able to elevate the most varied tracks, ranging from the intensity of "Domestic Silence" to the apparent calm of "The Copa". Chrissie thus proves she's still able to alternate the more energetic tracks (including lead single "Let The Sun Come In") with romantic or reflective pauses, just like in the good old days.

Compared to the two albums that preceded it, "Relentless" is in any case a slower record, especially on the second side, which is more acoustic and introspective, dominated by feelings such as sadness and nostalgia and rich in aching ballads that never slip into the glossy or the mawkish. Standout meditative tracks include "Your House Is On Fire" and "Just Let It Go", the latter a classy ballad, given extra punch by an extraordinary solo from Walbourne. The only thing that doesn't fully convince is the long closing track, paradoxically also the most anticipated, given the presence of Johnny Greenwood, who handled the string arrangement.

Wounded and downcast as she may be, just like the child with boxing gloves and an eye patch depicted on the album's unsettling cover art, created by Irish street artist Solus, the unyielding Chrissie Hynde has no intention whatsoever of quitting and hanging up her guitar. Luckily, one might add, if she's still able to give us such heartfelt and visceral records.

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