The Hunter

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Though Harry’s pancultural heart is in the right place, her rap diction is about as convincing as, say, trying to imagine Dick Clark belting out “Soul Man. The album concludes with a cover version of Smokey Robinson's " The Hunter Gets Captured by the Game", originally recorded by the Marvelettes in 1967. War Child" is another highlight, (the music is stellar) and this album also contains an extended version of this song. However, the album is nowhere near the utter disaster that is painted by the press and by some Blondie fans.

I love the dark simplicity of the final track, "The Hunter Gets Captured By the Game" which is a cover written by Smokey Robinson (performed by The Marvelettes). For Your Eyes Only”: a cunning stylistic amalgam that could fit nicely among Parallel Lines’ reinventions of ’60s pop. English Boys" is Harry and Chris Stein's melancholy tribute to "those English boys who had long hair", the Beatles, recorded the year after John Lennon's assassination in New York City, describing the innocence and idealism of the 1960s. English Boys" is sweetly serene, and contains some of Debbie's most introspective lyrics about how the world was changing during her formative years.

If Blondie kept up the same sense of experimentation and intrigue as "Orchid Club" for the duration of _The Hunter_, it may be hailed a gem or one of their most interesting works. All of this pungent erotica finds a unifying metaphor in the album’s final track, a cover of the Motown classic “The Hunter Gets Captured by the Game,” which Blondie has recast in a sinewy, atmospheric arrangement. There are exceptions: Jimmy Destri’s “Danceway” is an organ-driven raver that rocks out to a rope-skipping beat, and Debbie Harry assays a sweetly backward-glancing vocal on “English Boys.

Appreciate for the potpourri of Third World rhythms, which are handled so well; for the diversity of the music, which runs the gamut from Grace Jones-style club funk to reggae and rap; and, finally, for the literariness of Debbie Harry’s lyrics, which sketch a desolate, despoiled modern world driven by primitive passions. But even though band was coming apart at the seams emotionally, I still feel like the music on this record is solid and experimental, more so than any other Blondie album. Island of Lost Souls” is the new LP’s “The Tide Is High,” complete with Ricky Ricardo horns, steel drums and jaunty ska beat. Tracks on the album include Jimmy Destri's Motown pastiche "Danceway", while "Dragonfly" has a science-fiction theme to its lyrics about a race in space.

Despite their transparent Top Forty aspirations, these two songs do play into the record’s overall concept. Ignore The Album Cover, The Record Rocks Ignore the idiotic album cover of Deborah Harry looking like Lassie the Collie and rescue dog. The Hunter is the sixth studio album by American rock band Blondie, released on May 24, 1982, by Chrysalis Records.

Some user-contributed text on this page is available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License; additional terms may apply. It's the most exotic and experimental of the original Blondie records, a theme extended to the rather tragic cover art, and at times sounds tighter than _Autoamerican_, which at times sounded as if it was about to be enveloped by its own schizophrenic diversity and experimentation. For war child alone, this gets 4 stars, the rest of the album is best described as patchy, which is sad in a way because every album up to this point in Blondie's career was pretty much without fault.I was hoping that the music would be just as crazy, but after the somewhat promising first track that kinda matches the cover theme, it's generally a slog.

War Child”: a fierce electro-disco with stabs of percussion and wind instruments – again, a faultless track. It ain't the worst thing I've heard in a while, but it's easily the worst Blondie album I've checked out so far, with potential strong cuts like "Dragonfly" getting tarnished with dumb moments, though I do like the Bond film toss-off. The opening track is evident of that impeccable creativity, "Orchid Club" which is a heart-pounding, foot-stomping powerhouse! Yet the group is loathe to surrender completely the clout that chart-topping singles and platinum LPs have allowed it: amid the offbeat stylistic jumble of The Hunter, we find Blondie carefully hedging their bets, offering what amounts to cloned versions of the hits from Autoamerican.

The implication, I suppose, is that the pursuit of pleasure and excess finally overtakes the pursuer, and that you wind up lost on a spiral staircase of sensual diversion, left with only the diversion itself to contemplate.