September 6, 1999 by A.S. Van Dorston

It has taken the Jam merely three albums to go from a young band with a lot of energy and a love for mod-era rock ‘n’ roll to a band ready to take their place next to the Who, Kinks and the precious few others who have been able to capture the essence of being an individual caught up in a certain place and time. On All Mod Cons Paul Weller has come of age — as a songwriter, as a lyricist, as a guitarist. He was chosen his heroes well, borrowed what he needed from them in order to create his own style, and on this album shows not only that he was the talent to be taken seriously in his own right, but that he possesses the essential ingredient that can’t be borrowed, copied, or learned — heart. This heart is stamped all over All Mod Cons and, simply, is what it’s all about.

Weller has become the sharp-eyed, never-quite-comfortable observer, not really venomous, but quietly seething with teh little pains of existence, trying to understand life and cope with it as best he can. It’s a role Townshend and Davies played at various times throughout the careers of the Who and Kinks, but Weller sees the here and now without trying (as he seemed to do on the Jam’s first two records) to recapture their forever-gone past. “I’m making a stand against the world,” he offers in “The Place I Love.” “There are those who would hurt us if they heard, and that’s always in the back of my mind.” All of Weller’s characters reflect this same vulnerability, although it’s actually the album’s only non-original, Ray Davies’ dull and simple lad, “David Watts” (sung, interestingly enough, by bassist Bruce Foxton), which seems to sum up weller’s own characters best.

There are so many exquisite, lyrical moments on All Mod Cons that it’s impossible to catalogue them all. There are the beautiful vocal harmonies on “All Mod Cons,” “To Be Someone,” “In the Crowd,” “It’s Too Bad.” There is the sterling guitar work: big Whoish chords, then feeding back, then soaring, then sounding like the guitar is being taken apart piece by piece on “In the Crowd.” There is the gently lilting acoustic on “English Rose” and “Fly,” the slashing power chords on “The Place I Love,” the eloquent changing of mood on “Fly.” There is Paul Weller’s voice, still gruff, but by now so expressive within its limitations that like Townshend and Davies he turns it into a plus. Suffice to say that All Mod Cons firmly establishes Paul Weller (and the Jam) as a major talent (and band) for the ’80s. Wake up, radio, you missed the Kinks in their prime, don’t blow it again.

— Dave Schulps