Barnes & Noble
As befits one of the most complicated bands in modern rock music, this four-disc, 60-song retrospective offers up one of the more complex, dizzying historical tales imaginable -- one you can even dance to if you put your mind to it. While XTC have been virtually absent from the stage for more than two decades -- thanks in large part to Andy Partridge's reluctance to face the public -- the sprinkling of early live material indicates that the band could turn many a head in concert. That ability is demonstrated here by tracks like the frenetic "Traffic Light Rock," recorded live in Liverpool in 1977, and an assured, florid medley of "Atom Age," "Hang On to the Night," and "Neon Shuffle," captured in Australia two years later. Most of the Cupboards are stuffed with alternate takes of tunes well known to X-ficionados; palpably altered mixes of "Life Begins at the Hop" and "Towers of London" (a rendition that, for some reason, was rejected by the band's label) rub up against unpolished but uncanny demos such as "Science Friction" (the oldest tune presented here) and a haunting "Dear God." The set is likewise peppered with previously unreleased songs covering most of XTC's 15 years with Virgin; from the hectic "Fireball Mk 5" (which never made it onto White Music) to the discretely layered "Sleepyheads" (excised from Drums and Wires), the ephemera goes a long way toward tracking the growth within the band. That's just as evident in the raft of demos from the band's later, more bucolic period -- spare takes on "Mayor of Simpleton" and "King for a Day" -- that could pass for pop-world CAT scans of ultimately epic works. The lavish package, replete with multiple compartments and the like, contains a 60-page booklet outfitted with track-by-track notes by Andy Partridge and Colin Moulding and an essay by XTC expert Harrison Sherwood. To be sure, the cupboards are anything but bare. David Sprague
All Music Guide
XTC fans are a dedicated lot. There may not be many of them, but nearly all of them need to hear everything the group ever recorded. They'll happily spend hundreds of dollars on rare singles and bootlegs, or buy official releases of demos, even when they sound nearly identical to the official release, so a four-disc box set of rarities, demos, alternate takes, and live versions like Coat of Many Cupboards is essentially manna from heaven. If there's any problem with the set, it's that Virgin and XTC didn't go far enough and dedicate the set entirely to unreleased material; they hedged their bets, devoting 41 of 60 tracks to previously unreleased cuts, with the lion's share of the rest -- a full 14, actually -- being album tracks any XTC fan already has. No matter how good these songs are -- and they include such masterpieces as "Chalkhills and Children" and the Dukes of Stratosphear's "Vanishing Girl" -- their presence on a lovingly assembled rarities set is a fairly major irritant (even if the band is reportedly working on an even larger archival release, provisionally titled Fuzzy Warbles, that may span as many as eight volumes). Still, if this set had just one disc of rarities, XTC fans would have purchased it anyway, and they'll overjoy in the sheer volume of unheard music here. And rightly so, since even if there aren't that many demos and alternate takes that are radically different from the finished product -- there's an acoustic run-through of "Senses Working Overtime" and an embryonic version of "Mayor of Simpleton" that are fascinating rough drafts, while an early version of "Life Begins at the Hop" is appealingly awkward -- this is still rich listening, filled with such delights as three White Music outtakes showcasing Barry Andrews (who would leave not long afterward), Colin Moulding's Nonsuch reject "Didn't Hurt a Bit" (which should have been on the album), and the live "Atom Medley," one of several in-concert performances that illustrate how good the band was on-stage, no matter Andy Partridge's stage fright. These moments and the uniform high quality of music, along with the track-by-track annotation by Partridge and Moulding, make the repetition of album tracks easy to forgive, since this is as close to a perfect gift for fans as imaginable (until Fuzzy Warbles materializes, that is). Although fans would have settled for anything rare, XTC has returned their affection with a box that shows as much love as the fans have shown over the years. It doesn't get much better than that. Stephen Thomas Erlewine