In 1978, being qualified as "the Pink Floyd of the New Wave" might have come across as something of an insult; and by today's artistic strategies of rampant revivalism such a pithy remark may ring true to many a listener. That statement was, in fact, the critique prescribed to Chairs Missing, Wire's second album, as the album decelerated the pogo punk minimalism found on their first album with an increasing use of experimental production. In hindsight, Chairs Missing is the perfect transition between the high-strung velocity of Pink Flag and the staggering gloominess of 154; yet most transition records have a clunkiness about them, like a lanky teenager not quite able to fit into his sunday best. But Chairs Missing is miles above the average transition album.

To many a listener, Chairs Missing stands as the ultimate Wire album, with near perfect pop songs alternating between anthemic punk and eccentric production techniques (i.e. atonal synth drone, staccato guitar chops, overdubbed guitar distortion, etc.). Where Pink Flag kept many of the songs under a minute and half, Chairs Missing is downright baroque in its presentation of 3 minute tunes. The genius of Chairs Missing is how Colin Newman, Robert Gotobed, Bruce Gilbert, and Graham Lewis manage to steer through the diverse songwriting landscape, in how the album's opening track "Practice Makes Perfect" transitions from a delicate prance for jangled guitar into a precise expression of menace, in how "Outdoor Miner" creates the catchiest, Beatlesque chorus you'll never be able to sing back to yourself given the complexity of its rejoining, nonsensical syllables, in how jaggedly clean the guitars of Newman and Gilbert attack each other, in how Lewis' bass is fluid and effortless, in how this run-on sentence seems to have lost its way trying to fathom the complexity of Wire.

If you believe that the length of my reviews directly correlate to how good the record actually is, then I have failed as I would need to write a f-cking a book about how stunning this album is. Yeah, Chairs Missing is incredible; and if you don't have it, you really should.

Wow, did this really come out when I was 14?!?!?!? It's just impossible to grow tired of this album, and I return to its greatness every few years (I play 154 EVERY year). The amount of experimentation with (what breaks down to be) very minimal ingredients has never been equalled by any other band. I love to sit and listen to what's really going on in Wire songs, only to discover that a song may have only one chord and almost no melody - and still sound incredibly complex and evocative. I don't know how they did it - especially as naive, untrained musicians - but too bad they stopped (all good things...) The contrasting surprise here comes in the hooks and melodies that weave through the material. Punk rarely sounded this accessible until regurgitated some 10 years later. This album does the best job of showcasing the two (present and past - or - punk spazz and arty constructivism) facets of the band in 1978, without sounding schizophrenic.

My first impression of "Chairs Missing" was how visual the lyrics were, like most of Captain Beefheart's work where I feel like the artist is 'singing' me a painting. These are challenging works that don't translate well as background music, despite Mike Thorne's '5th Beatle' appearance on keyboards and such. Big Black liked "Heartbeat" so much they gave it their own twist (you can see B.C. Gilbert join them for a rendition on the live Big Black release "Pigpile") and we may not even have a Guided by Voices without the 1 min. 44 sec. nicety "Outdoor Miner". The material really starts to breathe within its own arty confines here, and is a teaser for the band's following heady masterpiece, "154". (The bonus cut here "Question of Degree" is one of their best ever, eliciting yet again my most frequent Wire-inspired question; "are those guitars??")

What a great album. Wire retain the minimalism of punk, but change the form. They do something analogous to equilizing a blaring rock track and changing its nature by, say, removing the drum track so that a new sound emerges. We have the insistence and urgency of Wire's peers, but the music delves into more interesting textures and moods. This is courtesy in part of producer Mike Thorne, who worked closely with the band and lent a real sense of sonic adventure to the proceedings.

Enjoy the icy textures of this record. Enjoy the quality of the material. And don't sleep on the closing track "Too Late", an aggressive outting which as others have noted almost defines the possibilities of minimalism in rock.

This is an easy choice for the best album from Wire, an always interesting group. Pink Flag was an excellent beginning, but that album gave us a band that was very raw, impatient, and loud. Wire tones it down here, adds more intricate sounds and song structures, and offers a greater variety of styles. It can be bleak and melancholy('marooned'), light and appealing('outdoor miner'), amusing and silly('I am the fly') and energetic and boisterous('Too Late'). A very thoughtful and impressively laid out album, highly recommended.

Overflowing with innovative, potent ideas, this album is one of my five all-time favorites. Some additional songs are added to the original album sequence which are also quite brilliant (i.e., the sinister "Question of Degree," with its striking bridge). In this effort, the band took to the studio like Einstein to a chalkboard, toying with song structure and melody in unprecedented ways, and doing so without compromising the listenability of the album. The band was obviously trying to stand out as a creative force in the explosive post-'76 British music scene, and succeeded in spades. Their work continues to be imitated, but can only be aspired to.