By 1979, disco had perished. It was then cremated, and the ashes to this day rest in an urn on some record exec’s mantelpiece, awaiting a visit to Rick Harrison’s pawn shop. ‘Warm Leatherette’ is a cover album of mainly rock songs and the foreword to Grace Jones’ 80s manifesto. The idea makes sense: her strand of new-wave rearranged familiarity with audacious provocation. Through a staggeringly bold public persona, Jones exposed patriarchal insecurity with a glance and, moreover, unveiled a place beyond confidence for oneself. This record was the first genuine insight into an unmatched great, unfiltered by a disco audience, or indeed anything but herself.
25/30
A favourite: ‘Private Life’
100 words music reviews 