Again, though we know the story didn’t turn out so well for Ben Pritchard, Steve Trafford, and Spencer Birtwistle, the three men playing as the Fall for this LP (they quit the band in the middle of a U.S. tour citing MES’s psychological and verbal abuse as the deciding factor), let’s marvel one last time at what they accomplished here before they departed. Pritchard is on fire throughout these 14 songs, conjuring up visions of Craig Scanlon, Ron Asheton, and Bo Diddley at various times. The rhythm section pounds and grinds behind that racket, holding tightly to the lock groove repetition necessary to drive these songs forward. Trafford, especially, finds a way to mesh the melodic attack of the Fall’s best bassist Steve Hanley with his own more aggressive approach to the instrument.

And oh my does MES sound impassioned and, at times, ferocious through much of Fall Heads Roll. He could give a fuck about you idiots getting stoned all the time or anyone who might think that he’s still a “work in progress” or the modern consumption of music. He’s more concerned with the death of Hunter S. Thompson, and holding hands with someone in New York City.

The album surely didn’t need to be this long (the non-MES number “Trust In Me,” the reprise of “Midnight Aspen,” and the folky “Early Days Of Channel Führer” could all have been cut out of this album without anyone missing them), but the lean, meaty attack carries you through the few fattier moments lying around.