tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4203045472422440162024-02-19T02:38:49.296+00:00There are only two kinds of peopleMusic's answer to Jeremy Clarkson.
Well, not really. Sounds good thoughDaniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.comBlogger98125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-37520362698085706132010-05-22T02:00:00.005+01:002010-05-22T02:11:51.114+01:00Let's wrap things upDear all,<br />It's been a while since I posted on here. A lot has happened in the last six months which has prevented me from posting new stuff on here. Graduation, job applications and projects, political involvements, radio shows... loads of stuff which now makes me very busy.<br /><br />Basically in light of all these things I've decided to wrap this blog up. The Top 100 Albums list I started way back is now way out of date, and so rather than just plod on for another month or two I want to make a clean break. For the record, here was my Top 7 at the point at which I started:<br />1. <span style="font-style: italic;">Animals </span>(1977)<br />2. <span style="font-style: italic;">Under The Iron Sea </span>(2006)<br />3. <span style="font-style: italic;">Wish You Were Here </span>(1975)<br />4. <span style="font-style: italic;">Speak For Yourself </span>(2005)<br />5. <span style="font-style: italic;">Who's Next </span>(1971)<br />6. <span style="font-style: italic;">The Fellowship Of The Ring <span style="font-style: italic;">OST </span></span>(2001)<br />7. <span style="font-style: italic;">Hopes And Fears </span>(2004)<br /><br />I'll leave the debate surrounding these choices up to you.<br /><br />Rest assured, for those out there who have enjoyed my blogs over the years, I will still be blogging in some form. Aside from my film reviews on <a href="http://uk.rottentomatoes.com/user/752852/">Rotten Tomatoes</a>, I'm now contributing to <a href="http://threemenonablog.blogspot.com/">Three Men on a Blog</a>, which I've set up with two of my friends of university. We'll be posting on a variety of themes, including music, so by all means check it out.<br /><br />Well, that's about it, save to say thank you to everyone for reading my posts over the years, and for your patience over the previous months.<br /><br />Thank you and good night!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRmzgjnPeXtIyd3TI_IY0194tcXbEuE9s37SQ4x_WHRBT6PwdiqVt9-ovCmCUiMwRxUBLhVCgpjvJi7EvOqFJ5U2koeSmx0lFCeyj_Cupl44yP1NhoOFZKWN2tuQzx8i8SfGn_aAUFVLd0/s1600/Me.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRmzgjnPeXtIyd3TI_IY0194tcXbEuE9s37SQ4x_WHRBT6PwdiqVt9-ovCmCUiMwRxUBLhVCgpjvJi7EvOqFJ5U2koeSmx0lFCeyj_Cupl44yP1NhoOFZKWN2tuQzx8i8SfGn_aAUFVLd0/s320/Me.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473895815496726210" border="0" /></a>Daniel Mumby<br />22/5/10Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-78453514290012466002009-11-04T11:57:00.003+00:002009-11-04T12:44:57.027+00:00Top 100 Albums - #8: Life In Slow Motion (2005)At number 8 is <span style="font-style: italic;">Life In Slow Motion</span>, the second and final chart entry for singer-songwriter David Gray.<br /><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkP6Iv00dyhH2JRWegvX9XThlpsGmNtzBmAq27UAZJ7g1dL2xX0bYQI22YgtnkrhEdIR7vnZg6mNvTVavYR7JYTMUf2lilTnuHj67k6cJH4APsoK9Sn1ypQcSRY21r_q5vl1c_6Tocxjlh/s1600-h/Life+In+Slow+Motion.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 315px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkP6Iv00dyhH2JRWegvX9XThlpsGmNtzBmAq27UAZJ7g1dL2xX0bYQI22YgtnkrhEdIR7vnZg6mNvTVavYR7JYTMUf2lilTnuHj67k6cJH4APsoK9Sn1ypQcSRY21r_q5vl1c_6Tocxjlh/s320/Life+In+Slow+Motion.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379199684942675410" border="0" /></a>Gray's fourth album, <span style="font-style: italic;">White Ladder </span>(1999, #58), brought the singer critical acclaim and a series of hit singles throughout the year 2000. The album was finally released in America in March 2001 just as it hit the top spot in the UK album charts after nearly a year-and-a-half on release. The American launch was accompanied by the compilations <span style="font-style: italic;">The EPs 1992-1994 </span>and <span style="font-style: italic;">Lost Songs 1995-1998</span> (both 2001), which cherry-picked from Gray's first three albums and provided listeners with a few interesting rare tracks. In 2002 Gray released the long-awaited follow-up, <span style="font-style: italic;">A New Day At Midnight</span>, which produced two strong singles but was met with lukewarm reviews. Following the tour to support the album, Gray went on hiatus for three years to recover from the exhaustion of his new-found fame.<br /><br />We begin with 'Alibi', an interestingly downbeat choice for an opening track. Where 'Please Forgive Me' on <span style="font-style: italic;">White Ladder</span> presented itself upfront with simple but confident piano, this crawls out of the speakers, feeling its way with much less confidence through the trees. But once the flute and pipes have cleared, Gray's distinctive voice swells in the centre of the mix and the whole track comes alive. As with much of his work, the lyrics are a little hard to understand, either in their meaning or Gray's delivery. But one cannot fail to be taken in by his performance.<br /><br />This continues on 'The One I Love', the first and most successful single. This is the archetypal pop song: lyrics which are to the point yet strangely meaningful; simple yet distinctive melody; and an appealing sense of warmth at the heart of it all. Despite ticking all the singer-songwriter boxes, this is far from boring. The lyrics may be that of a love song, but Gray has a knack for slipping in the odd interesting image that you don't notice first time round. Lines like <span style="font-style: italic;">Perfect summer's night/ Not a windy breeze/ Just the bullets whispering gentle/ Amongst the new green leaves</span> gel seamlessly while making the song surprisingly dark. Add in some good jangly guitar in the third verse and you have a very strong single indeed.<br /><br />'Lately' calms the mood again, retaining the guitar but in a more whistful capacity. Gray once again rises to the challenge of a wide vocal range, soaring on the high notes with barely a hint of strain. The melody dances over the guitar and mouth organ with a light-hearted vigour, and the lyrics are unobtrusive without ever becoming bland. This is classic easy-listening fare, managing to be distinctive without being overpowered, and it's a very good piece of mood music.<br /><br />The mood darkens down somewhat on 'Nos De Cariad', whose title is Welsh for "goodnight sweetheart". But rather than being the sweet lullaby we expect, this is far more dolorous and portentous. Gray croons <span style="font-style: italic;">Go to sleep my one true love </span>as if he is fearful that the world will end. This dark tone is strongly reflected in the final verse:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The sun above the cotton grass<br />Is sinking down like lead<br />The seagulls know the truth of it<br />And scream it overhead<br />Hold on to St. Christopher<br />The sky is murderous red<br />Go to sleep my one true love<br />Our glory lies ahead<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span><br /><br /></span>Such verses read like a macabre folk poem, so the fact that they are set against a relatively bright tone and major key is both a jarring and pleasant surprise. The lyrics wash over you, you absorb the imagery and start to warm to the story therein even as the darkness unfolds.<br /><br />'Slow Motion' is the first of three truly outstanding tracks on here. The opening seconds set the tone for the album with their long, sparse and echoey chords. The opening verse is simple repetition, and yet the words seem to say so much. Then the percussion kicks in like a series of bizarrely sycopatic clocks and the song settles into a wonderful eulogy about the passing of a loved one. Gray watches a friend die in front of him, his dark world dissolves with him and all that is left is beauty. It's a simple but powerful message, delivered through some yearning long notes held brilliantly by Gray.<br /><br />'From Here You Can Almost See The Sea' is equally fantastic, but in a completely different way. On the surface this is a very pleasant, cheery song about friendship and the brighter side of life. But if you dig a little deeper and really listen to the lyrics, you discover an eerie undercurrent to all this seaside cheer. The chord progression in the 'chorus', with the strange but beautiful minor chord, lifts this above so much romantic singer-songwriter dross. The lyrics are also cryptic, marrying a bright tone with odd and creepy imagery, e.g. <span style="font-style: italic;">The water's so cold it makes your bones ache</span>. Throughout Gray is on fine form both on guitar and on vocals, and the middle eights which crop up twice are simply joyous.<br /><br />'Ain't No Love' is probably the best song on the album. After some tinkly chords and playground sampling, the piano comes in to give us some grounding for this fast-moving, fast-thinking love song. Gray proves himself once again to be a master of ambiguity, serving up a set of lyrics which simultaneously paint pictures of a healthy relationship and of a lonely, broken man: <span style="font-style: italic;">This ain't no love that's guiding me</span> either means that he does not love the girl, or that such a word is no longer adequate in describing how deeply he cares for her. The lyrics trip off Gray's tongue and into our ears at such a relentless pace that it will take several listens to absorb everything. Lines like <span style="font-style: italic;">Tomorrow girl I'll buy you chips/ A lollipop to stain your lips/ And it'll all be right as rain </span>fit seamlessly around the bittersweet melody, and the result is something truly wonderful.<br /><br />What a shame, then, that 'Hospital Food' should be such a let-down. This is the second single from the album and it deserves a lot of the bad press it got. Whereas elsewhere on the album Gray has let the lyrics dominate and fitted the music around them, here it is the other way around. That in itself is no bad thing, but when Gray has demonstrated that he is a great lyricist first and foremost, it makes no sense to bury his musings under a bland three-chord pop song. Had he focussed less on producing all the various synthesiser parts, this would have been a lot better.<br /><br />Thankfully, the closing tracks more than make up for this little wobble. Both are very long - 6:45 and 5:05 respectfully - but they earn the right to go on this long by constantly delivering quality. 'Now And Always' has a great beginning in which the percussion is pushed to the back and the piano is muffled, allowing Gray's voice to dominate once again. By the time you reach this point on the album, you would think that he can't offer anything new beyond another vocal workout. But he surprises us with some well-timed double-tracked harmonies, coupled with pure production and a great fade-out. 'Disappearing World' is more sober, but no less charming in a glacial kind of way. Once again the music is kept simple but effective, with the piano chords creating a rolling, looping melody over which the vocals can flow. There is a minimalist beauty to this, but unlike other minimalists like Sigur Ros this is never cold, at least not overbearingly. It's a perfect way to end the album, being downbeat yet hopeful.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Life In Slow Motion </span>is easily David Gray's best album. Every song on here - with one small exception - is expertly crafted with lyrics which are packed with meaning and beauty. And the cohesion between them, the sense of something holistic, is far stronger on here than it is on either <span style="font-style: italic;">White Ladder </span>or <span style="font-style: italic;">A New Day At Midnight</span>. This is an album about ambivalence; the musical sense is one of pleasant contentment, but the words set to the music are surprisingly eerie. This allows the album to be enjoyed as easy-listening background noise, but it also rewards the listener if they wish to really concentrate on the songs and find something deeper in them. An understated masterpiece from a very underated musician.<br /><br /></div>4.20 out 0f 5<br /></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-10420267261861908722009-06-30T21:49:00.011+01:002009-07-06T23:17:33.036+01:00Top 100 Albums - #9: The Division Bell (1994)At number 9 on our chart is <i>The Division Bell</i>, the final album by art rockers Pink Floyd and their sixth of eight entries.<div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihKKuRfTCJeXLzdJMMR2gDCNFRarcDZiLIxg2VbUj5WEl391yWpy_iCedI3PjjvAtMV_079lOrY7wUmEYhAzJOWPUj-rG1nhfdaXdDaUiqtOd6axBwGK1PFqISQK5AYaSLjkvX5tUSTyJq/s320/The+Division+Bell.JPG" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353226259303424002" border="0" /></div><div>After the release of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">A Momentary Lapse Of Reason </span>(1987, #62), the three surviving members of Pink Floyd went on a world tour to re-establish their reputation. This tour, the first since <i>The Wall Tour </i>in 1980-81, saw the band competing with Roger Waters for arena space, as Waters struggled to promote his second solo album, <i>Radio K.A.O.S. </i>(1987). Following the release of the live album <i>Delicate Sound Of Thunder</i> (1988), the Floyd took the remainder of the 1980s off, only regrouping to participate in the trans-America motor race La Carrera Panamericana, and to record instrumentals for the film of the same name. An accident during the race - which left both David Gilmour and manager Steve O'Rourke badly injured - helped to convince the band to record again. As Waters' third (and best) solo album, <i>Amused To Death </i>(1992), brought him back into the public eye, Messrs. Gilmour, Mason and Wright once more returned to the studio for what would be their last album.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>The Division Bell </i>begins with 'Cluster One', a 6-minute instrumental track. Like 'Sounds Of Life' off the previous album, this crackles and creeps its way into the mix, emerging from the musical equivalent of your peripheral vision. The mood, however, is very different. While 'Sounds Of Life' was ominous and brooding, and quite unsure of itself, the overwhelming mood of 'Cluster One' is contentment, being at peace with oneself without being self-satisfied. This sense of contentment is beautifully conveyed by a series of sweet and languid chords from Gilmour's guitar, complimented by Rick Wright's simple but effortless touches on the keyboards. While not being a masterpiece, it's the perfect scene-setter for the album as a whole, as well as standing entirely on its own two feet.</div><div><br /></div><div>Having broken you in gently, the next track may come as a surprise. 'What Do You Want From Me' finds Gilmour in anger mode - or at least midly irate, for this is much closer to 'The Dogs Of War' off <i>Momentary Lapse </i>than 'Young Lust' from <i>The Wall (</i>1979, #14). This song is a double-edged sword, being on the one hand about a man's naive desire to make the impossible happen for his love, and on the other hand being an angry outburst at the demands of such a woman. The suppressed rage which simmers throughout this piece is matched elegantly by the great guitar parts, while the backing vocals of Sam Brown steadily build the tension before the title crests at the end of the chorus. It's a very well-proportioned track, with no part overstaying its welcome.<br /><br />'Poles Apart', meanwhile, can best be described as a mild disappointment. It's not appalling by any possible stretch of the imagination - it just feels too downbeat and obvious to be a proper Floyd song. The subject matter, namely Syd and Roger - has been explored before in better and more subtle ways, the former on most of <span style="font-style: italic;">Wish You Were Here</span><span>, the latter to a limited extent on <i>Momentary Lapse</i>. Gilmour's lyrics are drawn out and feel a bit lost amid the long, slow instrumental section in the middle of the track.</span><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>No matter, though, for 'Marooned' is on hand to restore both the album's balance and its quality. This is a gorgeous instrumental which encapsulates the mood of the album effortlessly. After a few teasing seconds, Gilmour's Stratocaster begins ringing out those long yearning chords that transport you to the shore of your own desert island. Gilmour's delicate, immaculate playing gives every note a bittersweet beauty which is hard to pin down into words but which is just to die for. Throughout Wright is on hand on keyboards, tying Gilmour's heartfelt wailings down through a series of chords which are both simple and sublime. And unlike on <i>Echoes </i>(2001, #31), where the track only runs to 2:03 before fading out, here this great track is presently completely unexpurgated, allowing you to bathe in its fragile beauty without a care in the world.</div><div><br /></div><div>One work of genius is gently followed by another. 'A Great Day For Freedom' is the shortest track on the album, weighing in at only 4:18, but don't think it's a lightweight. The lyrics, as ever with the Floyd, are ambiguous: <i>On the day the wall came down/ The ship of fools had finally run aground</i> refers both to the fall of the Berlin Wall and to the band's relationship with Waters (through Gilmour has denied this interpretation, it's certainly a plausible way to read it).¹ Like much of the first half of the album, this track has a great sense of sadness and mourning at its centre, a feeling of doubt about the present coupled with some kind of contentment about the future. It's a strange combination of feelings, but Gilmour is not flustered, stretching his vocal range to bring out the most in the way of emotion. This is the ultimate Floyd grower.</div><div><br /></div><div>'Wearing The Inside Out' is an interesting piece, being the first track on which Wright sings lead vocals since 'Time' from <i>The Dark Side Of The Moon </i>(1973, #23). The first thing that anyone will notice is that his voice hasn't aged nearly as well as Gilmour's; where Gilmour can still sail the high registers with an ethereal grace, Wright's is ragged and breaking. In a way, however, this helps the track and the album as a whole, bringing an understated grace into the mix to dismiss any accusations that the latter-day Floyd are all big sounds and no substance. Wright's voice whispers across the soundscape created by his keyboards, forcing you to listen intently but rewarding you at almost every turn.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Up until this point, one criticism which could be laid against this Pink Floyd record is the lack of a knock-out single. But these accusations are safely laid to rest with 'Take It Back'. While the term 'knock-out' is hardly appropriate for the long and graceful introduction, once Mason begins to pound the snare you're certain that you have a hit on your hands. Having previously addressed the Berlin Wall and a decaying relationship, Gilmour now turns his attention to the environment, delivering a great set of lyrics which depict a relationship between Man and Mother Nature, a relationship of abuse and neglect which will eventually lead Nature to <i>take it back someday</i>. Not only is Gilmour in fine voice, but his guitar work is superb, combining a jangly solo with a razor-sharp backing part. Mason also appears to have come out of his shell, providing some of his classic tom-tom fills which made the band's earlier records just that little bit more interesting. A great track if ever there was one.</div><div><br /></div><div>'Coming Back To Life' interpolates out of the previous track, beginning with a graceful, shimmering C-chord from Wright. But once again the song belongs to Gilmour, as he provides yet another sweet solo which lifts the spirits and warms the heart. It's a song of redemption and renewal, in both the band's life and in Gilmour's, through his marriage to Polly Samson during the <i>Pulse </i>tour. Mason's drumming provides a steady, contemplative beat over which Gilmour can serenade and thank his lover, allowing you to simply sit back and enjoy the show.</div><div><br /></div><div>Having jumped heavily into the personal on the previous track, 'Keep Talking' brings us back to the bigger picture and the album's central themes of communication and relationships. Once again it's a slow starter, taking its time to build through various interwoven riffs and tape loops. Eventually Stephen Hawking comes in and begins the 'lyrics' through segments culled from his BT adverts in the 1980s. But soon all product placement is pushed aside when Gilmour thunders into view. Having led us in slowly, his lyrics and delivery steadily become more heady and claustrophobic, dragging you back to the paranoid centre of the band under Waters. This is a fantastic piece, an honest and genuine song about the desperation of being alone and the human desire for contact (no wonder this album has been nicknamed the 'anti-<i>Wall</i>').² The band are playing meticulously tight but there is still plenty of room for flair, for both Mason and Wright. And at the end of the final desperate chorus, Gilmour straps on his talkbox and beats Peter Frampton at his own game (see my review of <i>Frampton Comes Alive! </i>(1976, #66). Great stuff.</div><div><br /></div><div>Of all the songs on <i>The Division Bell</i>,<i> </i>'Lost For Words' is the most obvious allegory to the band's relationship with Roger. For all Gilmour's denials and ambiguities, the lyrics are among the clearest on the album in terms of the parallels they draw. Musically, it begins liltingly, with Gilmour switching to a great-sounding acoustic, and Mason demonstrating that drumming can be an understated art as well as an overstated one. But the second the lyrics come in, the little grey cells click into action. No-one can fail to spot the clues in the final verses:</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Can you see your days blighted by darkness?</i></div><div><i>Is it true you beat your fists on the floor?</i></div><div><i>Stuck in a world of isolation</i></div><div><i>While the ivy grows over the door</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>So I open the door to my enemies</i></div><div><i>And I ask could we wipe the slate clean</i></div><div><i>But they tell me to please go and fuck myself</i></div><div><i>You know you just can't win</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>Even if you don't buy the resemblance, this is still a charming song which once again finds the three remaining members in solid form and with little to prove.</div><div><br /></div><div>The album concludes with 'High Hopes', which arrives to the sound of church bells and bees and signals the final departure of Pink Floyd. Wright's poignant piano perfectly counterpoints the tolling bell, creating a melancholy mood which descends over the whole experience. But rather than being a simple song of doom and gloom, this finds the Floyd reflecting on all that has passed in nearly 30 years in the music business. And while they may conclude that <i>the grass was greener </i>and<i> the light was brighter</i>, there is never any sign of them falling apart at the seams; they still sound as immaculate as they did all those years ago, an observation which is both a relief and a cause for sadness. Gilmour's delivery and playing are absolutely first-rate, infecting every note with a breathy wisdom and bittersweet weariness which encapsulate the band so well. It's the best possible eulogy to the greatest rock band of them all, and as the band retreat into the ether, one cannot help but miss them. </div><div><br /></div><div>While popular with the fans, <i>The Division Bell </i>was slated upon its release, with critics describing it as tired and formulaic. Tom Graves of <i>Rolling Stone </i>remarked that "the album... gives off the uncomfortable whiff of middle-age... Gilmour... seems bored or dispirited."³ Once again, they couldn't be more wrong. This album sees the renewal of the spirit of Pink Floyd that was somewhat tarnished on the previous album. While <i>Momentary Lapse </i>had to compete with Waters and prove that the band could carry on, this is more laid-back, more content and more immaculate as a result. While Gilmour's lyrics will never match the savagery of Waters', here he has crafted some beautiful sets of verse, tackling subjects with a subtlety and artistic flair which is the very essence of his musicianship. The album achieves that rare thing of being both tightly focussed and relaxed with itself, allowing the songs' quality to come through without fear of being rushed. It's a beautiful, ethereal piece of work, requiring a great deal of patience on first listen, but thoroughly rewarding in the end.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;">4.18 out of 5</div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>References</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">¹</span> </b>G. Fuller, 'The Color of Floyd', <a href="http://www.pinkfloyd-co.com/band/interviews/djg/djg94.html">http://www.pinkfloyd-co.com/band/interviews/djg/djg94.html</a>. Accessed on July 6 2009.</div><div style="text-align: left;">² 'Pink Floyd: After Roger Waters', <a href="http://web.adminsites.com/4482U7T2/web/pinkfloyd/afterwaters.asp">http://web.adminsites.com/4482U7T2/web/pinkfloyd/afterwaters.asp</a>. Accessed on July 6 2009.</div><div style="text-align: left;">³ Tom Graves, 'Pink Floyd: The Division Bell' (June 16 1994), <a href="http://www.rollingstone.com/artists/pinkfloyd/albums/album/219753/review/5943409/the_division_bell">http://www.rollingstone.com/artists/pinkfloyd/albums/album/219753/review/5943409/the_division_bell</a>Accessed on July 6 2009. </div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-63578920322378508662009-05-26T22:30:00.009+01:002009-05-27T00:20:35.291+01:00Top 100 Albums - #10: The Boatman's Call (1997)Kicking off the Top 10 is <span style="font-style: italic;">The Boatman's Call</span>, the fourth and final entry by post-punk icons Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5K6UQ1EQCmAAa1mIKtlX_tyB9OcDVTs414oCXnrKwS5yLQOYyG1h1jVT5-TPfogqgldRZtwxIp2ChDf4DTyffgBrhzoovkU1gwrUO07dPCyzY8B8lYayI4nw3jRLhBnBDnK6Zen89EsMw/s1600-h/The+Boatman%27s+Call.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5K6UQ1EQCmAAa1mIKtlX_tyB9OcDVTs414oCXnrKwS5yLQOYyG1h1jVT5-TPfogqgldRZtwxIp2ChDf4DTyffgBrhzoovkU1gwrUO07dPCyzY8B8lYayI4nw3jRLhBnBDnK6Zen89EsMw/s320/The+Boatman%27s+Call.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340248635561845874" border="0" /></a>The 1990s were a good time for The Bad Seeds, as they produced a string of albums which altered their raucous 1980s sound whilst still receiving critical acclaim. <span style="font-style: italic;">The Good Son </span>(1990, #40), a retelling of the Parable of the Prodigal Son from the elder son's point of view, introduced a sense of grandeur to the band, which allowed them to craft more ambitious and complex material while never seeming overpowering. The follow-ups, <span style="font-style: italic;">Henry's Dream </span>(1992) and <span style="font-style: italic;">Let Love In </span>(1994), saw Cave starting to open himself up a little more, creating beautiful if ironic love songs like 'Straight To You' to counterbalance the anarchic live feel of The Bad Seeds present on such anthems as 'Red Right Hand'. <span style="font-style: italic;">Murder Ballads </span>(1996) saw Cave stepping out still further, confronting death and violence head on instead of merely tiptoeing subtly around them; his duets with PJ Harvey and Kylie Minogue on the album are rooted in his great mix of blood-drenched darkness and black humour. With each of these albums receiving acclaim, and in the case of <span style="font-style: italic;">Murder Ballads </span>major awards, the band were perfectly poised to deliver their masterpiece.<br /><br />We open with an absolute gem of a song. 'Into My Arms' opens with a simple, mournful part on the piano, and then Cave comes in with his distinctive sunken baritone. It's an incredibly tender love song, about an atheist who falls in love with a Christian, and whose relationship with her leads him to question both her faith and his lack of faith. Throughout his career Cave has created some very spiritual music, but this is one of his most spiritually honest songs, dealing with themes of doubt and unbelief in a subtle and gentle manner which most Christian songwriters could not begin to comprehend. By setting up someone he dearly loves as the protagonist, rather than the listener, he avoids being false or preachy, and by keeping the production and instrumentation simple it feels like an honest one-to-one confession. It's a truly wonderful piece of work.<br /><br />'Lime-Tree Arbour' retains the simplicity of the piano while bringing in the drums and bass. On the former, Thomas Wylder provides some simple brushwork which anchors the piece, never doing more than it needs to and thus giving the space for Cave, on both vocals and Hammond organ. Mick Harvey's part on the latter is to play off Wylder, providing a slightly smoky, jazzy flavour to liven up a straightforwardly 4/4 song. Cave's lyrics are simple and personal; he sings about his love without feeling the need for complex imagery or bitter irony, as he has so often done in the past.<br /><br />'People Ain't No Good', thanks partly to its use in <span style="font-style: italic;">Shrek 2 </span>(2004), has become the ultimate down-and-out song. The opening lines - <span style="font-style: italic;">People just ain't no good/ I think that's well understood</span> - strike straight to the heart of anyone who has lost faith in humanity, either through a series of alienating encounters or simply through a bad day at the office. It's more than just a blues song with gentle piano, however. It's a love song in which the love quickly goes out of the marriage and thus out of the world around them; where once the trees stood with blossoms now they are barren and bare. Maybe Cave is being ironic even here. In describing how love quickly fades in a world without trust or optimism, he is offering up said trust and optimism as the way things should be, or - more bravely - how they really are. It's another wonderful song which marries simple melodies with ornate lyrics to create something very good indeed.<br /><br />'Brompton Oratory' slowly lifts its head from under muffled production, turning into a sweet but subdued piece about the nature of religion. Cave's Everyman slowly shuffles into the overbearing church on Pentecost and confronts a dichotomy on the nature of God's love. On the one hand, from the second verse, he is clearly alienated from God's love in the practices of Christianity and the Church:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The reading is from Luke 24<br />Where Christ returned to his loved ones<br />I look at the stone Apostles<br />Think that it's all right for some<br /></span><br />And yet, he goes on, the woman he loves is so perfect that she may just be proof of God's existence, and that The Almighty means him well. Cave is clearly being ironic when he claims that neither God nor the Devil <span style="font-style: italic;">could do the job that you did, baby/ Of bringing me to my knees</span>. It's more subtle even than the last three numbers, but still very warming.<br /><br />'There Is A Kingdom' keeps the focus firmly on Christ and the link between heavenly and earthly love. Its central message and motif is Cave comparing his love for his earthly partner to all the magical feats of nature and life, concluding that God must be behind all of them in some way, shape or form. He begins by describing God as a King who lives both without and within, and ends by finally confessing that <span style="font-style: italic;">There is a King/ And he is everything</span>. Skeptics may baulk at such language or beliefs, but there's no denying that this song is tender, personal and introspective without being morbidly so, for any of those three characteristics. Much like Cave's work on the follow-up, <span style="font-style: italic;">No More Shall We Part </span>(2001, #19), it's a song about spiritual and religious assurance, and above all the instrinsic link between faith and love (whether religious faith or otherwise).<br /><br />'(Are You) The One That I've Been Waiting For?', however, sees some of that assurance turned to doubt. This song is, from one angle, about Cave's relationship with PJ Harvey around the recording of <span style="font-style: italic;">Murder Ballads</span>. It's filled with some wonderful lines which say so little and yet mean so much. In the third verse Cave remarks: <span style="font-style: italic;">Outside my window the world has gone to war</span>. This is a man who sees the chaos of the world which he is struggling to fight or survive in, and seeks the love of a woman to protect and strengthen him in his hour of need. The Biblical themes are still there, especially in the last first which paraphrases the gospels, so that you slowly begin to understanding how much Cave's love for God and love for people is intertwined. Harvey's guitar parts really lift this piece, adding fibre to the slow jazzy brushwork of Wylder and creating a more brooding mood at the start.<br /><br />'Where Do We Go Now But Nowhere?' is about another woman in Cave's life: Viviane Carneiro, mother of his son Luke. The mood remains minimalist, the verse structure fixed, and the delivery sombre, but there are some new things on offer. Harvey's acoustic work injects into the mix an interesting choice of major chords, to offset or counterpoint Cave's melancholy melody, both on piano and vocals. This is a boon considering this is the longest track on here, and by the end it feels like it too. That said, it's not as drawn out as 'Death Is Not The End' on the previous album, a Dylan cover which seemed to go on for years. The production is still sparse, as though he is whispering across a desert plain at sunset. And while the lyrics are less accessible than they were in the first half, by the time you reach the end you'll have been sucked into it this song like all the rest.<br /><br />'West Country Girl', another song about PJ Harvey, is the first time the Bad Seeds drop the ball on this album. It's not terrible, by any stretch of the imagination, but the band feel less sure of themselves, drifting too far towards English folk in the intro which jars with their American roots. Cave's delivery is as clear as before, but he is wrestling with the intrusive percussion here and as a result his lyrics jar at the crucial moments. There are times when you wish that Martyn P. Casey would just lay off the bass and let the treble elements guide the song.<br /><br />'Black Hair' is much better, combining the more English sound of a piano accordion (played by Warren Ellis) with the brooding bass organ sounds from Harvey. Cave drifts both above and amidst these two sounds, disposing with strict metre until the song's denouement. It's almost a spoken word performance, a piece of prose rather than lyrical poetry, save only for the repetition of the title. Cave wrings all that he can out of the image, and the song wraps up just when you think he has exhausted every metaphor and adjective he has. It's another gorgeously understated piece which knows just how to leave you wanting more.<br /><br />'Idiot Prayer' is the last truly great song on this album. Ellis switches to plucking the strings of his violin while Wylder switches from brushes to sticks and steadily thumps his snare to drive this song on. It's more bittersweet than the last few songs, with Cave jumping between earthly love and snide comments on life after death: <span style="font-style: italic;">Is heaven just for victims, dear/ Where only those in pain go?/ Well it takes two to tango</span>. Like a lot of the best rock songs, the right instruments are introduced at just the right time and nothing is allowed to overstay its welcome. The Hammond organ which ripples through the second half would look out of place in the first, and Cave knows it. Likewise, Ellis' violin gradually fades from view, before rising once again in the last minute to give a delicate and tragic farewell serenade to his love. Everything about this song is just right.<br /><br />'Far From Me' brings Casey's bass back to the fore, with both this and the drums settling up a jazz rhythm to which Cave and Ellis can respond. The latter provides some jagged work on the bow to compliment the shimmering organ; the former does what he does best, delivering sorrowful lines of immense beauty with clear enunciation and a deep sense of yearning. It's probably the saddest song on here, being as it is about distance, departure and the pain that comes from missing someone. It's also more exhausting than a lot of the other songs; it may be over 5 minutes long, but by this stage the wearily repetitive structure may be starting to wear a little thin. Nevertheless, this is a very good song.<br /><br />We finish with 'Green Eyes', which is a pity since it spoils the mood in so many ways. Firstly, there is the profanity of lines like <span style="font-style: italic;">This useless old fucker/ And his twinkling cunt</span>. There's nothing wrong with profanity in songs in general, so long as it is used to convey meaning. Here there is meaning but it's out of kiltre with the sombre, funeral mood of the other tracks. Secondly, there is the production, in particular the double-tracking of Cave's vocals. The off-setting of a high- and low-register part leaves you confused over which one to listen to first, and the drawn-out higher part soon gets very annoying. It's a shame to finish on a downer, albeit not a totally disastrous one.<br /><br />Nick Cave albums are not normally the place to come to if you want comfort, contentment or peace of mind. But on <span style="font-style: italic;">The Boatman's Call</span>, we surprisingly get all of these things, albeit in ways which we don't suspect. Within Cave's lyrics and the songs built around them, there still remains the deep-seated religious doubt, obsession with darkness and cruel interest in violence which has marked all of Cave's best and most interesting work. But one does not have to look much further, or deeper, to find deep-seated themes of redemption, love and faith rewarded. Insofar as Cave has ever been an optimist, it's his most optimistic record, combining the reassurance and happiness that faith can bring with a renewed connection with humanity. It's not, however, an advertisement for contentment, certainly not in the way that the follow-up could be construed to be; simply because there is less in the way of musical anarchy, as on 'The Curse Of Millhaven' from <span style="font-style: italic;">Murder Ballads</span>, does not mean that Cave is satisfied. What <span style="font-style: italic;">The Boatman's Call </span>is, at its heart, is a deeply emotional yet highly sombre exploration of the relationship between God and Man, told through pure poetry and wonderfully minimalist music. It is undoubtedly Cave's masterpiece, and a masterpiece of the album form itself.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">4.17 out of 5<br /></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-82615163883545748332009-04-29T22:56:00.007+01:002009-04-30T00:41:50.371+01:00Top 100 Albums - #11: Hats (1989)Just missing out on the Top 10 is <span style="font-style: italic;">Hats</span>, the only entry from Scottish band The Blue Nile.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9kIrjCRGOg9NvSgYu5hLMo7HOZfhZZRVj3_8OAzuO_WmlxosPcr3XAN4bCcAKKqZaMMGa0s-abcZBnUfmB7WcKV1jkl3iW1PzZE3n4OCvXKir3usZmTvyGQCo5poDs9KknG_-2cWUIhFC/s1600-h/Hats.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 318px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9kIrjCRGOg9NvSgYu5hLMo7HOZfhZZRVj3_8OAzuO_WmlxosPcr3XAN4bCcAKKqZaMMGa0s-abcZBnUfmB7WcKV1jkl3iW1PzZE3n4OCvXKir3usZmTvyGQCo5poDs9KknG_-2cWUIhFC/s320/Hats.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330236925791979026" border="0" /></a>The Blue Nile's career began almost by accident. Paul Buchanan (vocals, guitar) and Robert Bell (bass) had been members of Night By Night, who had a cult following in Glasgow but never secured a record deal. After graduating from Glasgow University in the late-1970s, Buchanan and Bell met Paul Joseph Moore (keyboards) who shared their intrest in music. The trio began writing and formed Peppermint Records, releasing the single 'I Love This Life' in 1981. In 1983, the band came to the attention of local hi-fi company Linn Electronics, who wanted a band to record music that would demonstrate the sonic range of the company's wares. The result was <span style="font-style: italic;">A Walk Across The Rooftops</span> (1984), which sold modestly but garnered rave reviews. Following the success of singles 'Stay' and 'Tinseltown In The Rain' in Europe, the band spent the next four-and-a-half years writing, during which time an entire album's worth of material was scrapped.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Hats</span> opens, very gingerly, with 'Over The Hillside'. The opening few seconds sees the perfect layering of instruments, beginning with the drum machine, then the shimmering keyboards and finally the benign strum of the Fender. Then the band's best instrument, Buchanan, comes in. His voice is quite astonishing, being earthy and understated, and yet yearning and ethereal; Buchanan is singing from the heart and yet is never willing to get caught up in himself. Like most of The Blue Nile's output, the lyrics are about love and relationships, particularly those moments which turn the most mundane things in life into something magical. It's a very soothing start.<br /><br />'The Downtown Lights' gives the album its city setting. Even before the first verse starts, you <span style="font-style: italic;"></span> find yourself walking down <span style="font-style: italic;">empty streets </span>on <span style="font-style: italic;">empty night<span style="font-style: italic;">s</span></span>, with barely a sound to disturb the experience. You are alone in the world, with only the <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span> streetlamps for company, and the feeling is one of complete contentment and peace. The lyrics, which see Buchanan pushing his range to the limit, depict a lover having doubts about his relationship with a woman (<span style="font-style: italic;">How I know you feel it?/ How do I know it's true?</span>), and his reassurance through this strange sense of contentment that comes through walking in the city at night. The production is crisper than it is on <span style="font-style: italic;">A Walk Across The Rooftops</span>, and while the song develops slowly you're carried with it, like a bird slowly soaring.<br /><br />'Let's Go Out Tonight' continues the laid-back, contented feel, providing us with a slower tempo and some sweet chiming guitar work from Buchanan. The percussion section strikes that perfect balance between keeping the beat and having a presence; there's nothing flashy or remarkable, but it never feels like the rest of the song was simply imposed over a click track. Moore is much bigger on this number, with his keyboards providing the brassy counterpoint to the quieter sections, as well as the subtle undertones on grand piano once Buchanan's voice is warmed up. This song really demonstrates the central skill of The Blue Nile: they can write love songs which are heartfelt and resonate, but they never resort to sentimentality or overblown musical cliches to draw you in.<br /><br />If you need any further proof of the band's pedigree, then look no further than 'Headlights On The Parade'. This is the central track, with respect to both the track listing and the album's message. If the album as a whole is an ode to the power of relationships and the brilliance of love, then this song is the manifestation of Buchanan's own, special love. He doesn't care about success, or money, or anything which the world defines as important: <span style="font-style: italic;">only love will survive</span> and so that's all he does. The lyrics are simple but overpoweringly brilliant, combining heartfelt feeling with a subtle shrug of self-deprecation. This is also reflected in the music, with Moore's violin sounds working in the background to compliment the lyrics rather than overpower them, as they might on a Phil Collins track. Bell's bass is funky and gels beautifully with the electronic drum part, providing an enticing yet reticent rhythm. This is a magical, ethereal piece of work, a true work of musical art and personal devotion.<br /><br />'From A Late Night Train' is the hardest track to like on here. The production is more distant and quieter, as on the previous album, meaning that you'll find yourself craning to listen if you're not locked into the sound. Otherwise, this is still a very pleasant song which again manages to put sweet images in your head; perhaps a child watching through the window on a long journey home, or (as the lyrics suggest) a lover leaving town after the end of a relationship. With its highly realistic trumpet sound, this is more mournful and sombre than anything else on here, but that's not a downside; it merely shows the band are serious about describing both the highs and lows of love as it really is.<br /><br />With 'Seven A.M.' the band become more assertive. Where before Buchanan was content to sit back and muse on the nature of love, here he is actively questioning its existence in an increasingly busy and self-interested world. His vocal style is still frail and restrained, but the percussion is more intrusive and Moore's keyboard chords are sharper and more staccato. Our subject is frustrated; he loves a woman dearly, but both she and the world are unresponsive, and so <span style="font-style: italic;">Each time I fall for you/ It hurts me a little bit more</span>. For all its more intrusive elements, this is still an arty song; there is no need for the band to prove their credentials by being visceral.<br /><br />The albums winds up with 'Saturday Night', in which seemingly all the conflicts of love, lost and found, are temporarily resolved. The feel of this song is one of profound acceptance, both of one's lot in life and of the nature of life itself. There is a mature outlook towards life in general, but the sometimes childish nature of love is enough to dispel any dark clouds forming in one's mind. Don't be fooled, however, into thinking this is slushy pap. Quite the opposite. Buchanan's guitar chords are both languid and snazzy, popping up like the corners of a mouth turning up into a smile. Bell is again on hand to provide an interesting bass line and the whole song is profoundly satisfying.<br /><br />The Blue Nile have shown throughout their career that they can write genuine songs about genuine life experiences, without any tedious moralising or dwelling on deeper meaning to the point of obsession. They are interested, in short, in the simple complexity of love, and in this respect <span style="font-style: italic;">Hats </span>is their crowning achievement. People whose patience doesn't stretch beyond a 3-minute single will find this heavy-going, but for the rest of us this is an album which we can allow to unfold at our leisure. Being only 39 minutes long, it's not an exhausting experience, and you come away from every listen with your faith in life and love renewed. Every song on here is testimony to the human spirit and the power of compassion, something which is so often ignored or sneered at in contemporary music. Above all, <span style="font-style: italic;">Hats</span> is the complete package with regards to musical craft: sweet, beautiful lyrics, spot-on production, ethereal musicianship and a heart and soul that is the stuff of dreams.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">4.14 out of 5</div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-11016837336425256462008-12-08T01:30:00.010+00:002009-03-23T23:26:15.855+00:00Top 100 Albums - #12: The Two Towers OST (2002)Howard Shore's second entry comes with his soundtrack to <span style="font-style: italic;">The Two Towers</span>, the second film in Peter Jackson's <span style="font-style: italic;">Lord of the Rings</span> trilogy.
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbXGff_KYPrgExPdsdaPFDG5f16VRS6HtX6wv2PsvmqoGTq8sGgVKl7SsqFWUNCkT6vhxiud9M-Fi4vycPJWIcjZkxizr8ciIVjifQynDVGPxUVL8rCFI5nmdUYxutPUmPae5uI0u1eQe4/s1600-h/The+Two+Towers+OST.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 309px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbXGff_KYPrgExPdsdaPFDG5f16VRS6HtX6wv2PsvmqoGTq8sGgVKl7SsqFWUNCkT6vhxiud9M-Fi4vycPJWIcjZkxizr8ciIVjifQynDVGPxUVL8rCFI5nmdUYxutPUmPae5uI0u1eQe4/s320/The+Two+Towers+OST.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277226409947418482" border="0" /></a>Shore's working relationship with Peter Jackson began in 1999. The two met as a result of Shore's work on <span style="font-style: italic;">Analyse This </span>(1999), starring Robert De Niro. Jackson began shooting the three films of his trilogy (simultaneously) in October that year, and Shore was officially contracted to compose the score in August 2000. After visiting the various sets all over New Zealand, and viewing the rough cuts of both the first and last films, Shore set to work, initially in Wellington, but then moving onto Watford and then being mixed at Abbey Road. Shore composed the score for <span style="font-style: italic;">The Fellowship of the Ring </span>(2001), which incorporated the main theme of the trilogy, in between meeting commitments for <span style="font-style: italic;">The Cell </span>(2000) and <span style="font-style: italic;">The Score </span>(2001), another De Niro vehicle. Following the success of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Fellowship of the Ring </span>at the box office, expectations were high for the follow-up the following year.<span style="font-style: italic;">
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<br />'Foundations Of Stone' begins this second installment, and it's a magnificent start. The piece opens with a sweet yet melancholy French horn </span><span>se</span>ction which gently guides you in before the main opening theme takes hold. Before long you're in the sweet company of the violins as you glide like an eagle over the mountains of Haethiglir. But then, just as soon as you've got comfortable, the drums begin to pound, the brass section rears its head, and you're plunged into the heart of Gandalf (Ian McKellen) battling the Balrog. The deep strings, deafening brass and chilling choir chanting drags you right down into the bowels of hell, as if the world is collapsing all around you. And only at the very brink of insanity does the music releases its grip on your neck (and ears) and you are allowed to wake from the dream. It's a breathless, blistering opening track.
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<br />After all that, we need something to calm us down, and 'The Taming Of Sméagol' attempts that very well. The clarinet solo at the start pulls the epic from grandiosity back to the relationship between Frodo (Elijah Wood) and Sam (Sean Astin). It's a piece of two halves and the name is ambiguous. On the one hand, it's a 'taming' of the opener to fit within the story, an attempt to resettle us to focus on the plot. On the other hand, it heralds the arrives of Sméagol (a.k.a. Gollum, played by Andy Serkis) who arrives amid tense strings in the second half. Shore is still content to shock us about a minute before the end, but this time the heart attack is smaller and more manageable.
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<br />'The Riders Of Rohan' diverts attention from Frodo and Sam onto Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen), Legolas (Orlando Bloom) and Gimli (John Rhys-Davies), running across the plains in pursuit of Merry (Dominic Monaghan) and Pippin (Billy Boyd). A<span style="font-family:georgia;">s before there is a lot of tension in this piece, in order to introduce the Riders, and in particular </span>E<style>!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:595.3pt 841.9pt; margin:72.0pt 89.85pt 72.0pt 15.9pt; mso-header-margin:35.45pt; mso-footer-margin:35.45pt; mso-gutter-margin:68.05pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="font-family:georgia;">omer</span> (Karl Urban), as an aggressive force. This is not as aggressive or as frightening as 'Foundations Of Stone'; like much of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Return Of The King OST </span>(2003, #16), there are anticlimactic moments peppered through, designed to take you to the edge and then drag you back. It's a strange way of sustaining your interests, but it works, especially with the arrival of the signature theme on violin in the second half.
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<br />Having introduced a whole host of characters, we dash back to Frodo and Sam in 'The Passage Of The Marshes'. There's more forboding strings at the start, which weave their way through the speakers like dark vapours rising rapidly from the boggy pits through which our heroes tread. Much like on 'Shelob's Lair' in <span style="font-style: italic;">The Return Of The King</span>, the high strings provide a descant which is enough to shred your nerves, and after that the brass sucks you down. The voices, being a lot quieter on this piece, are faintly reminiscent of those of the monolith in <span style="font-style: italic;">2001: A Space Odyssey </span>(1968), and the whole result is very pleasing.
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<br />'The Uruk-Hai' is also pleasing, but in a different way. This is the first piece devoted to Merry and Pippin in the score, and begins very ordinarily with some military-style horns. But before long, the cavalry arrives in the form of the theme tune and you're flung into the heart of their plight. To be honest, it's not that distinctive from other parts of all three scores which use the theme as a base around which the other riffs are constructed. In fact it can feel like a medley of all the main themes, but it's still not a bad track when taken in context.
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<br />'The King Of The Golden Hall' is more distinctive. The violins at the start are not as rich as those we heard in 'The Riders Of Rohan'. They're more tightly strung - perhaps literally - and the mood is clouded over and subdued. It still manages to be warm, but there is a distance to its warmth, and a feeling of the best being gone - exactly what Shore and Peter Jackson were trying to achieve. About two minutes in, the mood changes again to forbidding, complete with deep bassoons and frantic horns, making this a piece that always keeps you guessing.
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<br />'The Black Gate Is Closed' takes us back to the ringbearers, confronted with the sight of Mordor for the first time. As you'd expect, Shore sets up a deep horn section with majestic, sinister long notes, so that a wall of sound is towering before us, both dangerous and impregnable. If you've seen the film, part of you can't help but wish that Shore had included some of the soldier's voices in the middle, or even some military drumming, to give a greater sense of the scene's progression. But of course, that's not his style. This is not Karl Jenkins' <span style="font-style: italic;">The Armed Man </span>(2001) and while not every precise moment of the characters is captured, it does well with what it has.
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<br />'Evenstar' and 'The White Rider' return the focus to Aragorn and the world of men. The former is a highly ethereal piece which depicts a flashback to him and Arwen (Liv Tyler) in Rivendell. Like a lot of their scenes, this is tender and romantic, but there is a tragic side which we haven't really seen before. In the first film Arwen struggles over sacrificing her immortality; in the last film Aragorn struggles over his fate as the true king of Gondor. Here the two struggles meet and find love, amid the sweet violins and beautiful vocals of Isabel Bayrakdarian. The latter is more dramatic, chronicling the resurrection of Gandalf and his meeting with Aragorn et al in Fangorn Forest. It's not completely overblown, but neither does it commit the worse mistake of coming over all prissly and self-righteous. It's a fine piece.
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<br />'Treebeard' keeps the focus on Fangorn, but moves to be with Merry and Pippin. The bassoons return to signal danger, just as they do in Sergei Prokofiev's <span style="font-style: italic;">Peter and the Wolf </span>(1936), and as then a clarinet swims through the mix as a calming influence once it is clear whose side the eponymous Ent is on (insofar as he is on anyone's side). This has a more Celtic feel to it than anything else on here, which is fitting considering that Treebeard is representative of nature rather than man or machines. It's also a lot less obtrusive; the riffs are allowed to repeat and shuffle along without interjection or hurry. It's a very measured piece, and is thoroughly enjoyable for it.
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<br />'The Leave Taking' is also down-tempo, with the violins taking second fiddle to the flutes at first. Once again, however, the mood is more tragic, as the focus shifts back to Arwen's future, and that of the elves. Having convinced his daughter to go to the Grey Havens, Elrond (Hugo Weaving) is visited (figuratively) by Galadriel (Cate Blanchett), who convinces him that now is the time to renew the allegiance between elves and men. The woodwind section provides a distant, haunting melody as the strings create a tailored suspense.
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<br />After so much quietened-down mood music, 'Helm's Deep' is a right royal kick up the jacksy. The tempos are faster, the drums return, the voices are more stricken - everything about it is designed to make you tense. And why not? It's a battle scene after all. But even though it's a battle scene, it's not all quick brass and savage strings, like in <span style="font-style: italic;">The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe OST </span>(2005, #15). There are moments, even before the main theme comes in at the end, of languid, prosaic phrases, some of which are necessary in chronicling the presumed death of Aragorn, the rest of which serve at best as an interesting contrast, and at worst as an odd (but not bad) choice for such a scene.
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<br />After a long while in the world of men, 'The Forbidden Pool' takes us back to the hobbits, now on their way to Minas Morgul and heading into the eastern-most reaches of Gondor. The strings sit somewhat awkwardly in this piece; they serve a purpose but they can't quite make up whether that's to set the scene or to describe the characters. At the point where Gollum enters the pool they hang suspended like Samuel Barber's <span style="font-style: italic;">Adagio for Strings </span>(1938). Eventually they get the idea and serve as mood music for the conversations between Frodo and Faramir (David Wenham). This is by no means a brilliant track, but despite its flaws it's still good when taken in the context of the whole score.
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<br />Of all the pieces in all three <span style="font-style: italic;">Lord of the Rings </span>soundtracks, 'Breath Of Life' is by far and away the best. It features the vocal talents of Sheila Chandra, whose contributions to the Celtic folk scene are of mixed quality, especially her collaboration with Chris Wood on <span style="font-style: italic;">The Imagined Village </span>(2007). Here, though, she is beyond perfect. Her voice comes shimmering out of the mix, and in the four long notes between 0:17 and 0:23 she takes over your heart. She resonates perfectly, not just with the music, but with every fibre of your being so that you cannot help but feel attached and connected to the events in the film. After a quiet section in the middle, as Aragorn revives, the track draws you back up to speed with his arrival at Helm's Deep, in a passage which could have easily been used for the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, had Shore been commissioned on such a project. This is an amazing track: everything works without being overwhelming, it's unique and yet a fitting part of the score. It is, quite simply, sublime.
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<br />Neither 'The Hornburg' nor 'Forth Eorlingas' can live up to such a track, but they're still cracking pieces of music in their own right. 'The Hornburg' opens with the familiar, now slightly tired theme on strings, but soon it morphs into a tragic, funereal cry as the walls of Helm's Deep are breached. Shore does give us a taste of military drumming at 1:53, as though he had heard our earlier complaints about 'The Black Gate Is Closed', and he continues it (with some compromise) through until the end. 'Forth Eorlingas', meanwhile, is all the pomp and circumstance of the last track without any of the repetitive rhythms. The early voice work captures the guilt and indecision of <span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Th</span></span><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link style="font-family: georgia;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CDANIEL%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt; mso-header-margin:36.0pt; mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:12;" >é</span><span style="font-family:georgia;">oden</span></span> (Bernard Hill) beautifully, before the charge begins and victory is snatched from the jaws of defeat. Just as on 'Minas Tirith' in <span style="font-style: italic;">The Return Of The King</span>, Ben Del Maestro gives a brilliant performance on guest vocals.
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<br />'Isenguard Unleashed' opens like a carbon copy of 'Lothlorien' from <span style="font-style: italic;">The Fellowship Of The Ring OST</span>, with Elizabeth Fraser's vocals being almost whispered and full of mourning. Very soon, however, this departs from 'Lothlorien' and explodes with almost as much ferocity as 'Foundations Of Stone'. With the arrival of the Ents as a force on the side of men, the piece shrinks back down, capturing first the sadness of Treebeard and then the last march of the Ents to Isengard and to their doom. But things soon get brighter, with the brass gleefully resurgent with another battle scene on its hands. It's yet another fine track.
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<br />'Samwise The Brave' is rather a sentimental piece. It may not pull directly on your heartstrings like a romantic comedy score, but it's the sort of piece that suits a great speech or tender moment between the two protagonists (which is exactly what it does, albeit not romantically). We get the 'In Dreams' theme again, and the piece ends with hope as our heroes journey on towards Mordor. Except, that is, for the final minute, where Gollum's monologue is played out and his planned betrayal is revealed to the audience in a moment of bitter dramatic irony.
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<br />The closer, 'Gollum's Song', is sung by Icelandic songstress Emiliani Torrini. Indeed it has become her signature tune. Her voice takes a lot of getting used to, being nowhere near as silky or as pure as either Enya on 'May It Be' or Annie Lennox on 'Into The West'. It's husky and breathless, and yet sad, and that is why it works - it fits in with both the sounds of the score and the mood of the film. Unlike Lennox's performance, which was sentimental beyond measure, this is more brooding and forbidding. It genuinely grows on you, like a lot of Shore's music, making it the perfect way to round off the album.
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<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span></span></span>As a score, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Two Towers </span>achieves the same successes of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Return Of The King</span>: it works as both individual pieces of music, which can be listened to in any order, and as a unified soundtrack, which can be listened to all the way through, and which reflects the film to which it is set. But unlike <span style="font-style: italic;">The Return Of The King</span>, which was dragged down by its need to tie up all the loose ends, this will thrill you like very little else. The three interwoven story lines which chop and change between each other are flung together in such a way that you get an adrenaline rush as you dart from one encounter to the next. The number of battle scenes, particularly the skirmish at Helm's Deep, are deeply exciting and hugely powerful, and the whole album feels full of life and lustre. The anticlimactic moments may drive casual listeners up the wall a little, and it doesn't have the slightly grandiose majesty of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Fellowship Of The Ring</span>, but it cannot be denied that, despite this, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Two Towers OST </span>is something very special indeed.
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<br /></span><div style="text-align: right;">4.11 out of 5</div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-3609086675587510702008-11-28T15:18:00.010+00:002009-01-16T01:06:49.208+00:00Top 100 Albums - #13: The Road To Hell (1989)Chris Rea makes his third and final chart appearance with <span style="font-style: italic;">The Road To Hell</span>, widely considered to be his masterpiece.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEholhg9ImXkQ-lZwJqN6JOO7aFg3XcPTehqbJoIhImViXRZdjsLUI4On9Z25c33BoSvrEGaA5w9GorZGuKbQHqlgUzFky1r6SN1q3si_UtCnS1wQH2OqKSjUTMbz9o3q_Twc-0erbcdDMRI/s1600-h/The+Road+To+Hell.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 205px; height: 201px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEholhg9ImXkQ-lZwJqN6JOO7aFg3XcPTehqbJoIhImViXRZdjsLUI4On9Z25c33BoSvrEGaA5w9GorZGuKbQHqlgUzFky1r6SN1q3si_UtCnS1wQH2OqKSjUTMbz9o3q_Twc-0erbcdDMRI/s320/The+Road+To+Hell.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273729115349724642" border="0" /></a>After first tasting success with <span style="font-style: italic;">Shamrock Diaries </span>(1985, #91), Rea composed a series of albums which brought him success both critically and commercially. The immediate follow-up, <span style="font-style: italic;">On The Beach </span>(1986), consolidated the chilled-out sound and added a brighter, more continental flavour. Rea's guitar playing was steadily improving, becoming smoother and silkier while retaining something in the way of its blues roots. This new style reared its head on <span style="font-style: italic;">Dancing With Strangers </span>(1987), which produced no real hit singles but continued Rea's run of acclaim. After winding up the tour to support <span style="font-style: italic;">Dancing With Strangers</span>, Rea was quiet through most of 1988, save for the release of a singles compilation, <span style="font-style: italic;">New Light Through Old Windows</span>, and a Christmas single, 'Driving Home For Christmas', which peaked at #53 on the UK chart.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>'The Road To Hell (Part 1)' is a complete unknown compared to its brother, but don't think that it's a bad track as a result. For the first 90 seconds or so, your head is filled with the sounds of a long, dreary motorway journey home: the rhythmic screech of the wipers on the windscreen, the pelt of the rain onto the glass and roof, the dark clouds rumbling in the distance, and the radio blaring out <span style="font-style: italic;">more bad news</span>. The piano sat underneath it winds whimsically along, making the situation all the more frustrating. Then, all of a sudden, this mood music is replaced by dark synthesiser chords courtesy of Kevin Leach, and Rea rumbles his opening lines like a jealous God, mourning His lost people in such a manner that it sends shivers down your spine.<br /><br />After such an atmospheric start, 'The Road To Hell (Part 2)' seems like pure pop. It's a lot more catchy, for certain, and the bluesy riffs tumbling out of Rea's guitar do walk the line between crass and cultured very gingerly. But in all, this is deservedly recognised as one of his finest songs. It may have be written about the M25 (which isn't exactly glamourous), but like all the best songs you can read so much more into it than that. From another angle it's a pathos-ridden, burning commentary on 1980s materialism, or an <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Everym</span>an</span></span></span></span>-esque religious allegory. It's presented in a language and form that is readily understandable, but which also rewards deeper study. And while it has been hopelessly overplayed since its release, it remains a snappy little charmer to get your grey cells going as much as your feet.<br /><br />The religious (or at least moral) element of Rea's work is continued in 'You Must Be Evil'. If you weren't convinced of the previous song's credentials, this is more openly savage. It narrows the focus from a general indictment of modern man to a well-aimed strike against the cynical nature of television. Don't think, however, that it's a list of prudish criticisms from a member of The Mary Whitehouse League. Rea is attacking the sensationalist nature of the medium, rather than specific events. Again, it's not the most in-depth stuff at first glance, but like a lot of Rea's songs there is a hidden, bluesy depth to them that can only be discovered after a long car journey with them playing on a loop. Musically, look out for a lovelye bit of bass in the final chorus from Eoghan O'Neill.<br /><br />'Texas' shifts the focus from drizzle-filled Britain to America - or at least, it seems to. The lyrics are a fond exposition of the Lone Star State from a guy longing to escape there, longing to experience the desolation and simplicity (<span style="font-style: italic;">Warm winds blowing/ Heat and blue sky/ And a road that goes forever</span>). It's a song of dreams and frustrations at the mundane nature of life, underscored by Leach's shimering keyboards and snappy drumming from Martin Ditcham. In the second half, Rea's Fender soars into life just briefly and transports you into that laid-back dream, completely at ease. Before long you are in the Deep South, surrounded by hints of the foot-stomping blues Rea would finally produce on <span style="font-style: italic;">Dancing Down The Stony Road </span>(2002).<br /><br />'Looking For A Rainbow' is where the album starts to fall apart. It's nearly twice as long as the previous track, at 8:05, which means that the pop hooks and punchy nature of the last three songs will be difficult to sustain. Rea reverts instead to the rain and schmaltzy piano (courtesy of Max Middleton) and slowly allows you to sink into a vat of wallpaper paste. Even when the percussion comes in, it never sounds genuine or engaging enough to stir you from your slumber. In short, it's just too long.<br /><br />Both the next two track fail to drag this record out of the mid-album dip. 'Your Warm And Tender Love' has such a treacly title that is almost impossible to swallow. It begins somewhere between a Simple Minds ballad and an offcut from Queen's <span style="font-style: italic;">Made In Heaven</span> (1995), neither of which seem immediately diserable. This is cloyed and clich<span style="font-family: georgia;">éd through and through</span>, never letting itself be anything more than a humdrum, middle-of-the-road love song, and that's annoying. 'Daytona' tries harder, restoring the themes of both America (the racetrack) and cars (the Ferrari of the same name). The tempo is faster, the production crisper and the piano returns to add the melody. But it's still not brilliant, with flat lyrics and no sense of direction. Even the presence of the car at the end (which actually sounds nothing like a Daytona) can't get your pulse going.<br /><br />You may be tempted to switch off now, but don't. Because 'That's What They Always Say' is an absolute belter. Perhaps that's the wrong word, because this is still a slow, and quiet song. Nevertheless, it has a hugely catchy chorus and a serious of smooth verses which wash over you and make you smile. More than that, though, you can feel the whole band playing tighter and enjoying themselves as a result. No single instrument is allowed to overstay its welcome, so that even Rea's flirtings on the guitar are perfectly balanced between satisfying your initial expections and leaving you wanting more. And for the first time in a long while, you realise what a great singer Rea is. He's unconventional, he's earthy and he pulls no punches on this brilliant song.<br /><br />'I Just Wanna Be With You' could easily fall into the same trap as 'Your Warm And Tender Love'. The title doesn't do it any favours, that's for sure, but a shared fate is avoided by a series of very clever touches Rea injects into the mix. The percussion is more amusing, or at least tongue-in-cheek, including the apposite cowbell that arrives early on. The guitar riffs are more subdued, and are complimented very nicely by the Hammond Organ sound emanating from the keyboards. Even the slightly dodgy female vocals can't rock this boat.<br /><br />'Tell Me There's A Heaven' is the ideal closer for the album, invoking the imagery of the title and keeping the focus on the individual. This could have been a terrible song, either by being sanctimonious and preachy, or by being so sugary that it ended up as a must-sing on weepy karaoke nights. But thanks to Rea, it's neither: it's just a heart-swelling, tear-jerking, laid-back emotional masterpiece. Even with the stock strings and overblown piano, it's very hard not to like this song, or be moved by it. The lyrics fit perfectly around the piano part, so that the two are perfectly interwined. Their content appeals to that wish in most or all of us for a better world to the one we have now, whether it be a literal, Christian heaven or an earthly one we make for ourselves. This is a splendid way to round off, and should be accorded pride of place in Rea's catalogue.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The Road To Hell </span>has been hailed as a "modern masterpiece", and on the whole it thoroughly deserves that title.¹ It may not be the deepest or most meaningful piece of rock on first impression: Rea's reputation as a middle-of-the-road schmaltz mercant is palatable if you don't dig any deeper. If, on the other hand, you look behind the pop-ish veil, you open up an album flowing with ambiguity and playfulness, an album that gives few answers and invites you to explore. It will take a while to go from liking this album as a catchy set of songs to liking it as a political statement, but give it enough time and that change will come. And while the classic 'mid-album dip' is quite noticeably severe, deep down they are not <span style="font-style: italic;">dreadful </span>songs, merely below-par ones. In the final analysis, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Road To Hell</span> is without a shadow of a doubt the finest album Rea has ever made, and if ever likely to make if his recent forages into blues are anything to go buy. <span style="font-style: italic;">Shamrock Diaries </span>and <em>The Blue Café </em>(1998, #50) were passable pop; this is proper album rock.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">4.10 out of 5<br /></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">References</span><br />¹ John Floyd, 'The Road To Hell'<span style="font-style: italic;"></span>, http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=10:tneb97w7krht~T1. Accessed on January 16 2009.Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-41033778361587921892008-11-19T20:14:00.027+00:002009-01-02T23:48:57.411+00:00Top 100 Albums - #14: The Wall (1979)Pink Floyd's fifth chart entry is <span style="font-style: italic;">The Wall</span>, a double-concept album rock opera which resulted in one of the most elaborate tours in rock history.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFtf781lt9VvJm94cagFjiS5RjG-Fo-_-y__DIlXppC0HbCyw-BX2CB2BQkGPu5k-IrVFcDfN50d08q5KtDf4vwsElobtoTETCd56ryiLo6jHg5EUZAgMLbqfE3xOaLr2vWWvwmf4ebbyU/s1600-h/The+Wall.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 197px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFtf781lt9VvJm94cagFjiS5RjG-Fo-_-y__DIlXppC0HbCyw-BX2CB2BQkGPu5k-IrVFcDfN50d08q5KtDf4vwsElobtoTETCd56ryiLo6jHg5EUZAgMLbqfE3xOaLr2vWWvwmf4ebbyU/s320/The+Wall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270465613672246546" border="0" /></a> Following the release of<span style="font-style: italic;"> Wish You Were Here </span>(1975), Roger Waters' influence over the musical direction of Pink Floyd began to grow. Following the tour, the band invested a large amount of money in the creation of Britannia Row Studios, described by Nick Mason as a place that "could take on the grim and claustrophobic qualities of a nuclear bunker".¹ It was in these (suitably) dark surroundings that <span style="font-style: italic;">Animals </span>(1977) emerged, with Waters writing, co-writing and/ or singing all five tracks. The tour that followed saw the band playing huge stadiums, often filled with people who came not for the music but for the drugs and the buzz of the crowd. On July 6th 1977, at the Olympic Stadium in Montreal, Waters finally lost his temper and spat in the face of a fan trying to climb up the barricade. The band returned to Britain alienated and exhausted. While David Gilmour and Rick Wright busied themselves with solo albums - <span style="font-style: italic;">David Gilmour </span>and <span style="font-style: italic;">Wet Dream </span>(both 1978) - and Mason turned producer for The Damned, Waters set to work on the components for a masterpiece that would revive the Floyd's fortunes.<br /><br />It is in these bleak surroundings that <span style="font-style: italic;">The Wall </span>emerges. 'In The Flesh?' kicks off the first half in unusually subdued style. After the brief and as yet inexplicable snippet of dialogue - "... we came in?", there are a few seconds of calming harmonica. But don't be fooled. After about 18 seconds, the first guitar chord slashes through this sea of tranquility, hitting you right between the eyes without any warning. The chords are punchier and harder than anything on the previous album, and the whole feel of the song is so huge and expansive. It's a brilliant way to introduce the album, even before the explanatory lyrics come in.<br /><br />'The Thin Ice' is much in the same vein, with a quiet beginning which slowly but surely mutates into an horrifically loud ending. At the start, where it is just Gilmour and Wright's piano, it all feels rather tender and soft. But the mood of the music is counterbalanced by the pathos-ridden words emanating from Waters' pen and Gilmour's mouth. Waters sings the more overtly dark second half, describing the sensation of being out of depth in the world. Then Gilmour lets rip with a series of amazing chords that make you feel like you are sliding down into the depths of an ocean filling with your own blood. This is a terrifying track, one which if listened to in a dark room will transport you closer towards the true meaning of fear.<br /><br />Having come through this psychotic episode, 'Another Brick In The Wall (Part 1)' is, relatively speaking, a moment of light relief. Though he may have hinted at it on <span style="font-style: italic;">The Dark Side Of The Moon </span>(1973, #23), this is the first instance of Waters writing openly about his father, killed at Anzio in World War II. While the first two tracks were more thematic, to get us in tune with the new Floyd sound, this introduces the character of Pink. Like Waters he has lost his father in war, feels neglected, and in response is beginning to erect a wall to protect him from the world outside. Musically it's very well structured, managing to sustain a repeating riff to create tension without sounding like filler.<br /><br />Before long, though, the tea break is over and 'The Happiest Days Of Our Lives' comes hovvering into view. Quite literally in fact, since this track begins with the sound of a helicopter and the teacher's familiar yell: "You! Yes, you! Stand still, laddee!". Here Waters starts to get into his stride, railing against the education system of his childhood. Through the eyes of Pink he depicts the teachers as uncaring fiends, who take their aggression out on the children while being secretely beaten by their wives (one of many sick jokes in this piece, of which Waters seems to be a fan). Waters' bass playing has always been simplistic, but this is not a bad thing. Underneath his whispering and screaming, his simple chords slowly cut into you like a chisel while Mason's hi-hat buzzes around your head like a wasp stuck in a jar.<br /><br />'Another Brick In The Wall (Part 2)' is almost too famous to require much more being said. Of course, it is famous for the wrong reason, being known as the Floyd's only hit single rather than as an amazing piece of rock craftmanship. As I said in my review of <span style="font-style: italic;">Echoes </span>(2001, #31), the true genius of this track is that it sounds more complicated that it actually is. Taken in its component parts, we have a decent (but not brilliant) set of lyrics, a nice (but not brilliant) guitar solo, a good-ish bass line and a fairly mundane drum part. But put these pieces together, and the whole becomes greater than the sum of its parts. Like 'Money' on<span style="font-style: italic;"> Dark Side</span>, this is written and produced so that each instrument and section comes in at just the right time and for just long enough. No aspect, from the drums to the children's choir, is allowed to overstay its welcome or be cut short by the intrusion of something else. This has everything you could possibly want from a Floyd track: a powerful message, strong lyrics and amazing sound, all tied down to a hummable melody and played by brilliant musicians.<br /><br />'Mother', meanwhile, is more subtle. Waters and Gilmour again share lyrics, only this time they take on the characters. Waters plays some simple but sweet acoustic on the verses, while relaying Pink's fears to Gilmour's overprotective mother. This is similar to both parts of 'Pigs On The Wing' from <span style="font-style: italic;">Animals </span>in that the individual lines are spaced out, given room to breathe so that they stand alone as powerful statements. Gilmour is ideally suited to the part of the Mother, singing <span style="font-style: italic;">Momma's gonna make all of your nightmares </span><span style="font-style: italic;">come true </span>in his usual bright, ethereal voice, thus achieving maximum irony.<br /><br />'Goodbye Blue Sky' is probably one of the best anti-war songs ever written. From the childish cry at the start (<span>"Look Mummy, there's an aeroplane up in the sky"</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>- more irony) to the descending bass line at the end, it never fails to make your heart feel heavier. Unlike Waters' subsequent anti-war efforts, like on <span style="font-style: italic;">The Final Cut </span>(1983, #49), this doesn't tell you directly what is wrong or what is to opposed. All we get in the lyrics are vague glimpses into human tragedy, which our minds then multiply until we picture a horror too unspeakable for words. Lines like <span style="font-style: italic;">The flames are all long gone/ But the pain lingers on </span>are perfect for this purpose, and the images they convey is amazing, depicting war as some kind of loss of innocence. Gilmour's vocals meld beautifully with the acoustic to create a truly<span style="font-style: italic;"> sensational </span>piece of work - not just in its quality, but the way that it makes you feel.<br /><br />Like 'Goodbye Blue Sky', 'Empty Spaces' only gives you glimpses. But here the glimpses come much later, and only after considerable build-up. For a song that only has four lines, it is surprising and a rare joy because it doesn't feel even remotely padded out. The repeated sound effects maintain the beat, while the distant wail of the guitar puts more pictures in your head. This song sees Pink wondering how he will <span style="font-style: italic;">fill the final places</span> to complete the wall. The first note of the guitar is flung into the centre of the mix like a spotlight being turned on, showing the face of a demented Pink scouring his new concrete landscape. In the show this piece was much longer, incorporating a rant about humans' frenzied desire to not stand still; it was edited for the LP to make the music fit on the vinyl. But that doesn't matter, because like the edited version of 'Marooned' on <span style="font-style: italic;">Echoes</span>, you still get plenty of majestic music that leaves you wanting more.<br /><br />Having run out of bad experiences, Pink decides to become a rock star in 'Young Lust'. Gilmour takes the lead in this one, with his voice sounding rougher and his guitar playing just exuding menace. He shouts the opening line, which comes as a bit of a jump if you've had your ears pressed close to the speakers to hear what Waters is saying. But then that's appropriate, not just because Waters and Gilmour are completely different kinds of singers, but also because we are seeing a different side of Pink: the openly destructive, hedonistic side rather than the dark, self-pitying one. The simple macho chorus is punchy, as is Mason's drumming, while Wright re-emerges on the organ as a form of musical counterweight.<br /><br />'One Of My Turns' sees the union of both Pinks, the old introvert and the new rockstar, in what turns out to be a lethal combination. Pink leads a groupie into his hotel room, only to take no notice of her advances and then proceeding to smash everything around him, scaring her to death. After the television flickers into the background, the keyboard enters the fray and the song begins properly. The first half is incredibly sinister: the lyrics drip from Waters' mouth like wax from a burning candle; <span style="font-style: italic;">Day after day/ My love turns grey/ Like the skin on a dying man </span>is a fabulous opening line. Eventually, Pink explodes in a fury of drums and guitar, and Waters moves from a whisper to full-on screaming and shouting, so that it feels like he is attacking YOU.<br /><br />'Don't Leave Me Now' is the first track to fall short of the mark. It finds Pink alone, having collapsed out of his fury with the news that his girlfriend has been cheating on him. He goes from angry to despairing, desperate, and even fearful. The main problem with this is that it feels lazily written. There is no sense of discipline over where the words and music join up, as if the band recorded a rather uneventful ambient track and then Waters improvised over it. While such techniques would serve him well on <span style="font-style: italic;">Amused To Death </span>(1992), here they compromise the result.<br /><br />'Another Brick In The Wall (Part 3)' refocuses the plot and the listeners, albeit a little unsubtly. Amid glass smasing, Pink completes the wall and realises his dream of perfect isolation from the rest of the world. The lyrics are more basic, and the music is familiar, but the pace feels more frenzied, as if Pink is moving a knife through his hand and then sealing his creation in his own blood. At 1:15, it's shorter than the other parts, but this doesn't matter because it successfully conveys all that needs to be said. All of which makes 'Goodbye Cruel World' pretty much superfluous. It's shorter, the title is hackneyed, the lyrics are obvious and musically it's flat, with a two-note bassline nicked from 'Careful With That Axe, Eugene'. This worked in the show, serving as a means to place the last brick. On record, this isn't needed, so it doesn't work at all.<br /><br />The second half kicks off with 'Hey You', and finds the first pangs of regret beginning to take hold of Pink. Here his slow descent into madness begins with his desire for human contact, the very thing he has shut out in creating the wall. The verses chronicle this progress, with Pink first asking for feeling, then for contact, and finally for help, each time directed at a force he knows is there but that he cannot quite comprehend. In another sense, this is a song of two halves. The first half is Gilmour's, beginning with a sweet turn on vocals and a maelstrom of a guitar solo, while the second half belongs to Waters, melding together his bitterness and his empathy in one powerful cocktail.<br /><br />'Is There Anybody Out There?' is a look spookier, with the mood changing drastically. Where 'Hey You' genuinely sought contact and the comfort which that brings, this is more suspicious. Waters' whispered lyrics echo across the mix like whispered yells over no-mans'-land. You feel with this song like you are a soldier crouched in a shell-hole, or perhaps a PoW dodging the searchlights in his bid for freedom. And all the while, at the centre of this suspicion and trepidation, the mood is haltingly and cleverly juxtaposed by the acoustic, faintly reminisent of John Williams' 'Cavatina' from <span style="font-style: italic;">The Deer Hunter</span> (1973).<br /><br />'Nobody Home' is quite simply astonishing. Continuing on from the previous track's sampling of film audio clips, we are taken back to the hotel room where a washed-up, burned-out Pink is listing his earthly possessions<span style="font-style: italic;"></span>. It doesn't sound thrilling, but the execution of this 'list song' is superb. This in indicative of Waters' later solo work, like 'It's A Miracle' from <span style="font-style: italic;">Amused To Death</span>. He starts with simple background music, and then the lyrics tumble forth in a sequence which, though random in real life, seems to flow perfectly and compliment everything. Everything about this little gem is wonderful. Waters sings/ speaks the lyrics with gravitas, leaving room for every impressive syllable. The strings and brass that are added later on create a wonderful mood that is tragic and nostalgic, with a military touch to it. And the inclusion of odd clips (<span>"Surprise, surprise, surprise!</span>") add humour in order to bring out the darkness. This is Waters at his finest.<br /><br />Both 'Vera' and 'Bring The Boys Back Home' are too short and one-dimensional to serve any great purpose. They are at heart segues, designed to carry the plot rather than stand as songs 'Vera' is a mini-ode to Dame Vera Lynn, the famed wartime singer who was all but forgotten after 1945. Waters seems to be using this as a metaphor for how the ideals of 'the post-war dream' have slipped from memory, but he doesn't develop this in nearly enough detail. 'Bring The Boys Back Home' is just bizarre; the grouping of the screechy Waters with a deep male voice choir never really works. This does have one plus point, however. After the singing ends, a sound montage is slowly built up, which serves as a very good lead-in to 'Comfortably Numb'. Like 'Speak To Me' on <span style="font-style: italic;">Dark Side</span>, it combines little motifs and snippets from most of the other songs, finally culminating in the echoey "Is there anybody out there?".<br /><br />'Comfortably Numb' itself is one of the album's centrepieces. It is indeed one of the centrepieces of the band's repertoir, solidified by its performance on both the <span style="font-style: italic;">Pulse </span>tour in 1994 and at Live 8 in 2005. So far all the songs of the second half have hinted at Pink's descent into madness, but this is the starting point for that actual descent. Rather than demonise Pink straight away, the band are very clever, presenting him as being pleasantly aware of the events going on around him. His body and brain are 'comfortably numb', swimming in drugs designed to <span style="font-style: italic;">keep him going through the show</span>. The lyrics switch between the doctor (Waters) assisting the patient, and Pink (Gilmour) describing this new-found numbness in graphic and beautiful detail. Gilmour sings dreamily, guiding the audience into Pink's head so that they feel an organic part of the mix. Thus, when that award-winning guitar solo rears its head at the end, it feels like the soul of Pink himself is singing and thrashing around, taking the listeners with it. What a rock masterpiece this is.<br /><br />'The Show Must Go On' is more segue, and therefore deserves little attention from us. Its purpose is to link the hotel room to Pink's arrival at the concert, something achieved without music in the film but difficult to do on an album. It's not completely superfluous, but it's hardly essential either. 'In The Flesh', meanwhile, is completely essential. Not simply a reprise of the first track, it is the unveiling of the new Pink. The rockstar has died a violent death, and in his place, amongst the organ and guitars, strides a blackshirted fascist dictator, ready to unleash himself upon an unsuspecting crowd, brimming with admiration. By employing female voices and selective echoes, the Floyd succeed in turning the rock concert into a gigantic rally in which no-one is safe and the adrenaline levels begin to rise.<br /><br />'Run Like Hell' takes things ever further, both in consolidating the fascist landscape and raising the bar for Floyd songs to a whole new level. This is undoubtedly the best song on the entire album. Where previ<style>Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:595.3pt 841.9pt; margin:72.0pt 89.85pt 72.0pt 15.9pt; mso-header-margin:35.45pt; mso-footer-margin:35.45pt; mso-gutter-margin:68.05pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="font-family: georgia;">ously you could be but a spectator, idly looking in, on 'Run Like Hell' you are thrust right into the mêlée</span> with no means of escape. The mass experience dominates everything, with the heavy drums and loud bass taking you to the front row of a eardrum-bursting arena. The narrative is sustained magically, with Waters doubletracking and pushing his range to its uppermost limits. His voice is absolutely hypnotic as he snarls through the verses and screams magnificent lines like <span style="font-style: italic;">If they catch you in the back seat, trying to pick her locks/ They're gonna send ya back to Mother in a cardboard box</span>. This is a frenzied and psychotic piece, which truly demonstrates the power of the Floyd's music. Not only will this send shivers down your spine, it will openly scare you, and yet thrill you at the same time.<br /><br />'Waiting For The Worms' is just as good, although its role is very different. Pink is now in the grip of madness, and enjoying every minute of it. With the aid of a well-recorded megaphone, he barks out orders to his minions, directing them to <span style="font-style: italic;">follow the worms </span>and bring about their destruction. A lot of this is an allegory of the Nazis' genocide, hence the references to Jews and the line <span style="font-style: italic;">(Waiting)/ To turn on the showers/ And fire the ovens</span>. These must be taken with a pinch of salt, for Waters is clearly being ironic, setting up Pink as being an accurate but extreme representation of evil, so that people may not repeat it. The best part of this truly frightening track is the final speech. As it plays you can picture Pink smiling, then the smile turning to a forced grin, then a rictus, then gaping horror and finally the epic scream of 'STOP!'.<br /><br />The actual song 'Stop' is the shortest on the album, at only 30 seconds long. It's the last so-called segue, being extremely brief and not especially deep; its only purpose is to start Pink's process of self-trial and coming to terms with what he has done. This is dealt with much better in 'The Trial'. Even if you haven't seen the film, which features the nightmarish animations of Gerald Scarfe, you can't help but be terrified by this track. Waters takes on all the voices, playing the various characters who are called to testify against Pink - the schoolmaster, his girlfriend, and his mother. While the lyrics are characteristically dark and sinister, their structure is unusual for a Pink Floyd song. It's less of a rigid pop song than a dark take on a libretto by Gilbert and Sullivan: the characters sing as they speak, and the song sounds more staged as a result. This is not a problem, however, since the content and production are still enough to make you jump out of your skin. The climax, where judgement is passed and Pink has to tear down his wall, is one of the finest conclusions to any rock song. If you listen to this in the dark first time round, be sure to have a defibrillator close to hand - because this is heart-stoppingly good.<br /><br />As the dust settles, we end pretty much where we began. 'Outside The Wall' trundles merrily along on its harmonica and children's choir, appearing to neatly wrap up any loose ends so that we can all go home. But in fact, very little is left answered. Is Pink still alive, or did the process of destroying the wall kill him? If the latter, who is singing at the end? And is this really the end? The final question is addressed with the closing words, "Isn't this where...": the continuation of the opening words, "... we came in?" hint that this may be a continual process, to which Pink and ourselves are irreparably bound. It's certainly enough to get the little grey cells going.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The Wall</span> may not be the finest album the Floyd ever made, but it still contains everything that made this band so great. From the dark, ambiguous lyrics to the complex yet hummable melodies, and all the conceptual touches, this extend and build on the previous three albums. Where <span style="font-style: italic;">Dark Side </span>dealt with the human condition as an expression of empathy, <span style="font-style: italic;">Wish You Were Here </span>looked at absence and the feeling of loss, and <span style="font-style: italic;">Animals </span>explored the notion of class and the powers that be, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Wall </span>is a deep and involving journey into the darkest reaches of the human subconscious, albeit a journey skewed by Waters' own experiences. It's not perfect: the jazzy touches of <span style="font-style: italic;">Dark Side</span> have all but disappeared, and the second half can seem inconsistent. But when listened to as a whole, you will struggle to notice this, because the whole is so overpoweringly brilliant. This album will shock you, scare you, terrify you and thrill you in ways that you cannot possibly imagine. It will take you to the very brink of insanity and then blow your mind. It is essential listening for anyone who loves Pink Floyd, or anyone who wishes to go a little deeper into the darkest corners of the human mind.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">4.04 out of 5<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">References</span><br />¹ Nick Mason, <span style="font-style: italic;">Inside Out: A Personal History of Pink Floyd</span>, ed. Philip Dodd (London: Phoenix, 2005), p. 218.<br /></div></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-20837924153037149432008-11-14T16:28:00.011+00:002008-12-13T00:29:36.496+00:00Top 100 Albums - #15: The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe OST (2005)At number 15 is Harry Gregson-Williams' soundtrack to <span style="font-style: italic;">The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe</span>.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHTDqvM_1-qEzlpkcjAEkC4NRzgZdILJcBshCQ4HWRCp_ey25WItfnv6wWulVsl0caRXRFUOYoI6s_OT77CEFYpA2wjuauqfw5HPmKXiMBWuKFHe4wWYWTXVpB47njV_FnVKMzizleqaNx/s1600-h/The+Lion,+The+Witch+And+The+Wardrobe+OST.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHTDqvM_1-qEzlpkcjAEkC4NRzgZdILJcBshCQ4HWRCp_ey25WItfnv6wWulVsl0caRXRFUOYoI6s_OT77CEFYpA2wjuauqfw5HPmKXiMBWuKFHe4wWYWTXVpB47njV_FnVKMzizleqaNx/s320/The+Lion,+The+Witch+And+The+Wardrobe+OST.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268551671383743042" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;">Harry Gregson-Williams was born in 1961 and began his career as a music teacher. He taught in the UK throughout the 1980s, in particular at Amesbury School in Surry, and spent a number of months teaching in Egypt before taking a post at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama. In 1994 he scored his first film, the little-known thriller <span style="font-style: italic;">White Angel</span>. His subsequent work on films like <span style="font-style: italic;">The Borrowers </span>(1997) introduced him to John Powell, with whom he collaborated on the scores for the highly successful <span style="font-style: italic;">Antz </span>(1998) and <span style="font-style: italic;">Chicken Run </span>(2000). The critical acclaim accorded to these productions brought him to the attention of New Zealand filmaker Andrew Adamson, who contracted Gregson-Williams to write the score for <span style="font-style: italic;">Shrek </span>(2001) and its subsequent sequels. This made him the ideal choice for Adamson's next major project.<br /><br />We open with 'The Blitz, 1940', which finds our four heroes in wartime London, in the middle of a German air raid. This starts very well, with its spooky ambient touches which soon give way to the loud and fear-ridden strings. By incorporating the sounds of jets into the music, Gregson-Williams puts us right at the centre of the action, so that it is clear from the off where we are. The crests of the music, especially after the first minute, are very well-timed, so that we conjure up images in our minds of Edmund (Skandar Keynes) running back into the burning house, not conscious of the danger he faces.<br /><br />Having started with something original, 'Evacuating London' inadvertently reminds listeners of past adaptations. There are hints and motifs contained in the themes which hark back to the acclaimed BBC miniseries of 1988, which opened with the Pevensie children leaving London on the train. The situation is the same here, and so it is apt that the composer casts a shroud of bittersweet piano over proceedings. The piano can first be heard at 0:39; being Gregson-Williams' primary instrument for composing, it's naturally very well-written and blends beautifully with the clarinets. Add in the female vocals in the second half and you have a beautiful track which could accompany any train journey.<br /><br />'The Wardrobe' has a very important role, being the track which accompanies the first journey of Lucy (Georgie Henley) into Narnia. It starts well, with an opening minute which is tentative and intriguing. It draws you invitingly into its folds until you are immersed in childlike wonder, like you are making the journey with Lucy. Once there, however, it goes a little stale, being too standardised to make it a successful track. It's not specific enough for its surroundings: you wonder less about where you are and more about how long it will last.<br /><br />No matter, because the next track more than compensates. 'Lucy Meets Mr. Tumnus' does what it says on the tin, and serves as a most charming introduction to one of the book's most-loved characters. Mr. Tumnus (James McAvoy) is painted by the violin solo as a quiet, sensitive, well-meaning soul. Although this is nearly twice as long as the last track, there is little to drag the piece down or hold it back. After hearing this you will struggle to be distracted from the rest of the score, as the magic begins to take hold.<br /><br />Well, almost. 'A Narnia Lullaby' is an obstacle. Played on a duduk<span style="font-style: italic;"></span>, it is essentially the piece played by Mr. Tumnus to send Lucy to sleep. But despite only being 1:13 long, it's not good enough even as a passing sensation. Even if you don't find the sound of a duduk all that pleasant, it opens okay. But then Gregson-Williams gets carried away, trying to incorporating loads of different sounds in a desperate bid to describe Lucy's dream. The result sounds confusing, like a sample track of the whole album in no particular order, and the brass ending is completely overblown.<br /><br />It's a good thing, then, that the next track is a return to form. 'The White Witch' is another challenge for the composer, introducing the film's main villain as played by Tilda Swinton. Where a lot of songwriters would go over-the-top, creating riffs and motifs to simply frighten the viewer, Gregson-Williams is more subtle. Like Howard Shore<span style="font-style: italic;"></span>, he prefers to use strings and deep woodwind to slowly build up the tension (see my review of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Return Of The King OST </span>(2003, #16). This means that the audience creates its own fears based upon what little they can see and hear. This is befitting considering we are dealing with what is essentially an allegory of the Devil, a character that has to be subtle, falsely pleasant and befriending into order to entice Edmund away. This is a piece that plays with your senses, so you are constantly on tentahooks but don't want the sensation to end.<br /><br />'From Western Woods To Beaversdam' introduces us to two other much-loved characters, as voiced by Ray Winstone and Dawn French. Before that, however, we are greeted with an intriguing opening minute as finally all four children set foot into Narnia together. The trick that Gregson-Williams has pulled off is not just improving on 'The Wardrobe', but he has avoided simply repeating himself in the process. It's so beautiful that you can almost feel the snowflakes falling onto your fingers. When the Beavers do enter, they are accompanied by a lovely flute solo, the rough nature of which suits the mood down to the ground.<br /><br />'Father Christmas' is more overtly ethereal and emotional in its music. But although he cannot resist adding in some chiming bells (23 seconds in), Gregson-Williams manages to avoid being cheesy or sentimental. The eponymous character, like Tumnus before him, is introduced as completely harmless and filled with joy at the prospect of meeting the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve. Compared to the music that accompanied the TV series, this feels more serious, more grown-up, but that is more a reflection of the changing times and bigger budget. This is definitely one of the more listenable, and distinctive tracks on here.<br /><br />So far, the mood of the album and the film has been a relatively mellow one. 'To Aslan's Camp' drives a sledgehammer through that. Immediately we are met by high strings and crashing cymbals, which catapult us straight into the journey of our heroes to the Stone Table, with the evil Maugrim (Michael Madsen) hot on their heels. The first half of the track is very stricken and feisty, while the second brings us to Aslan's camp with suitable pomp and reverence. 'Knighting Peter' is more mellow, but there are still underscores of darkness contained in the brass section. Then, after the first 50 seconds or so, the whole orchestra goes quiet as Maugrim pounces, and the (brief) fight between him and Peter (William Moseley) begins. This part ends rather abruptly, but all is well in the resolution of the track.<br /><br />'The Stone Table' is the longest track, at an almighty 8:07. But then it does have a lot to cover. Beginning with some soft and tender violin, it draws a veil over the characters as Lucy and Susan (Anna Popplewell) encounter Aslan (Liam Neeson) slain upon the table. The deep male voices and didgeridoo at the start create a mood similar to that conveyed in <span style="font-style: italic;">Passion </span>(1989), Peter Gabriel's soundtrack to <span style="font-style: italic;">The Last Temptation of Christ </span>(1988), The world influences create a sense of pathos and impending danger which more Western orchestras often fail to do. For the most part though, the track is dominated by The White Witch. The deep and rapid percussion, counterpointed with the startled horn section, slowly build up tension to the point where madness begins to take a hold.<br /><br />'The Battle' is the first of four tracks on here which rise above all the rest. What we have seen so far has been very good, or even excellent - but this is something else. Like 'The Stone Table', it has a lot to cram in, and like many of the tracks it begins with some pretty standard brass and horn work to set the scene. But from thereon in, the whole orchestra swells like an army, rising alongside the forces of Peter and Edmund. The voices, the trumpets, the percussion and the strings all gel together perfectly, and move with the action, so that the various highs and lows of the battle are played out. Listeners will struggle not to have images of The White Witch and Aslan in their heads, as these two great protagonists lock horns in the archetypal battle of good and evil. This track twists and turns while always pulling on your heartstrings and making your imagination run riot. It's splendid.<br /><br />'Only The Beginning Of The Adventure' opens with an agonisingly long period of silence (a flaw in production which afflicts all of the last four tracks). When it does finally begin, however, our recently ravaged ears are greeted with beautiful flutes and a wonderful passage on bells. Once again all the different instruments come together and are married perfectly, with each getting exactly the right amount of time and space they need. The cymbals and voices swell together at just the right time; the violins provide the soft undermelody at just the right time; the woodwind and percussion come together at <span style="font-style: italic;">just the right time</span>. Everything is beautifully measured, and yet this doesn't feel calcuted or cold. On the contrary, it will warm the depths of your heart, with every listener finding a different part which they enjoy.<br /><br />'Can't Take It In' is Imogen Heap's contribution. This song, co-written by Heap, was a last minute replacement after a song by Dido was rejected - and so, on paper, it shouldn't be good. In fact it's the complete opposite<span style="font-style: italic;"></span>. The beauty of Heap's voice, coupled with the euphoric lyrics and sensational combination of instruments makes this one of the greatest songs of the last five years. From its soft, gentle opening, to the jazz touches on the ride cymbal and the multi-tracked vocals, everything on here is so immaculate and so well-thought out that it is almost impossible not to fall in love with it. Heap's voice is always amazing to behold - as shown on <span style="font-style: italic;">Speak For Yourself</span> (2005) - but she has never sounded better on record than she does here. This song will move you to tears, it is <span style="font-style: italic;">that </span>beautiful.<br /><br />'Wunderkind', meanwhile, is just as good. Being the work of Alanis Morisette, it's quicker, and slightly more edgy, but it is still a million miles from <span style="font-style: italic;">Jagged Little Pill </span>(1995). Building from a drum beat and simple piano chords, Morissette's voice (very much in its prime) swells slowly as the song develops. Unlike 'Can't Take It In', which is relentlessly beautiful, this takes more time for you to warm up to it. But once you get it, you'll be hooked, because the lyrics are still magical and Morissette's delivery is fabulous. The best thing about this song, however, is that her voice is very much at the centre - there is nothing in the way of flashy percussion or jazzy piano to spoil the mood. It's brilliant.<br /><br />What a great shame it is then that the final two tracks are both bum notes. 'Winter Light', performed by Tim Finn, is a sub-standard effort from yet another singer-songwriter. The lyrics are not rich enough to make up for the more stark sound, which comes as an unpleasant surprise after all the rich orchestral worke. It's not terrible, but it's not especially compelling either. 'Where', on the other hand, just comes across as twee. It's certainly not helped by Lisbeth Scott, whose voice is shrill and squeaky. In many of the higher registers, she is shrieking the notes rather than singing them, which makes it hard to sit through. It's a disappointment, because this could have been a good song with a little more work.<br /><br />For all the controversy surrounding the film, there can be little argument that the soundtrack to <span style="font-style: italic;">The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe </span>is something rather special. Compared to more successful scores, like <span style="font-style: italic;">The Return Of The King</span>, it may come across as a bit soft and light-hearted on first listen. But it achieves what all scores should do, both reflecting the film to which it is set and standing alone as music in its own right. And it is not just the credit songs which accomplish this. For while things take a while to get going, and there are slip-ups along the way, most of the tracks on here are treats for the ears just as the film is for the eyes. But perhaps the greatest strength of Gregson-Williams' score is in its subtlety. It would have been easy to turn this adaptation into a straightforward action film, scored with bombastic brass and over-the-top production. Instead, like the end result on screen, he has provided the audience with little hooks and riffs which will let their imagination take them places where, like Narnia, they never expected to go.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">4.00 out of 5<br /></div></div></div></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-59367958630350039332008-11-14T16:24:00.013+00:002008-12-12T01:16:16.860+00:00Top 100 Albums - #16: The Return Of The King OST (2003)Composer Howard Shore's first chart entry is his soundtrack to <span style="font-style: italic;">The Return Of The King</span>, the third film in <span style="font-style: italic;">The Lord of the Rings</span> trilogy.
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUtlWof-zlUuLaNfKRu2gZs0SfvdgNGX8EnUVRlcPFVu_t83AgGlHJpROmKOmCB0Wgo4pRfZmtEdZhNc9WZT8mEdF2qhvecPIkl1caIwqCU23SWNUProA3SPFqb4RT7LuwVYDqEHFLR31S/s1600-h/The+Return+Of+The+King+OST.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUtlWof-zlUuLaNfKRu2gZs0SfvdgNGX8EnUVRlcPFVu_t83AgGlHJpROmKOmCB0Wgo4pRfZmtEdZhNc9WZT8mEdF2qhvecPIkl1caIwqCU23SWNUProA3SPFqb4RT7LuwVYDqEHFLR31S/s320/The+Return+Of+The+King+OST.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268550739515540066" border="0" /></a>The late-1990s were a busy time for Howard Shore. Having made his name in Hollywood earlier in the decade, through scores for <span style="font-style: italic;">The Silence of the Lambs </span>(1991) and <span style="font-style: italic;">Mrs. Doubtfire </span>(1993), he found himself in strong demand. As the 20th century drew to a close, he found success with the comedy fantasy <span style="font-style: italic;">Dogma </span>(1999) and the Robert De Niro vehicle <span style="font-style: italic;">Analyse This </span>in the same year. The latter brought him to the attention of New Zealand filmaker Peter Jackson. The two became friends and Shore was commissioned to write the score to <span style="font-style: italic;">The Lord of the Rings </span>trilogy, which began filming in October 1999. Due to the unique nature of filming - Jackson chose to shoot the three films simultaneously over a two-year period - Shore was required to balance his commitment to these scores with other projects, most notably the critically acclaimed Martin Scorsese epic <span style="font-style: italic;">Gangs of New York</span> (2002).
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<br />The score opens with 'A Storm Is Coming' - an appropriate title, considering what lurks further in. Being the opener, it has to set the scene both for the film and the motifs which will bubble to the surface throughout. This track is set to the prequel scene between the young Sméagol (played by Andy Serkis) and his brother<style>tyle Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:595.3pt 841.9pt; margin:72.0pt 89.85pt 72.0pt 15.9pt; mso-header-margin:35.45pt; mso-footer-margin:35.45pt; mso-gutter-margin:68.05pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> Déagol (Thomas Robins), ending in the latter finding the ring and being killed by the former. It works very well, beginning as a more mythical take on a Kenneth Grahame story, before the deep, brooding brass interupts and the darkness begins to take hold.
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<br />'Hope And Memory' changes tack and emphasis, shifting our focus from dark brass to bustling woodwind. There is a sweet bit of clarinet in the middle of this short track, which contains a familar riff to that first heard in <span style="font-style: italic;">The Fellowship Of The Ring</span> (2001). One of Shore's strengths is taking riffs from a previous film in this sequence and placing a new light on it without actually changing the instrument. We see a similar thing at the end, with a stricken string riff straight out of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Two Towers </span>(2002), twisted to bring new life to Pippin's departure from Edoras.
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<br />'Minas Tirith' is another splendid mood track, beginning again with brooding, minor chords from the violins and French horns. Here the brass and strings combine beautifully again, creeping up on the audience in the first third, then blasting them with all speed in the footsteps of Shadowfax in the middle section, before finally culminating with the brass coming out on top to convey the military pomp and splendour of the White City. This is a great track, aided along by a smashing solo from vocalist Ben Del Maestro.
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<br />'The White Tree' and 'The Steward Of Gondor' both return us to a darker, more sombre frame of mind. The former is a track of two parts. On the one hand, it's very similar to the scene between Frodo (Elijah Wood) and Galladriel (Cate Blanchett) in the first film; there is a dreamlike quality to it, like reality is being slowed down by the music. On the other hand, it has a playful, emphatic feel, especially after the first minute or so, which is fitting for the scene where the beacons are lit along the mountain peaks. The ending of this track is especially good, with the brass taking the broad melody while the violins squeak away, tackling the complicated countermelodies very nicely.
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<br />The latter is simpler and more overtly sorrowful. Incorporating the Uillean pipes is a really good idea, considering how much they have lit up tracks throughout art rock (see my review of <span style="font-style: italic;">Peter Gabriel 4 </span>(1982, #80)). But the best part of the track is the solo from Pippin (Billy Boyd). At 2:33 the orchestra goes quiet, the production goes more echoey, and the whole track shrinks down so that Boyd's clear Glaswegian tones are allowed to shiver straight into our soul without any real impediment. He's a surprisingly good singer, and the scene in the film is a poignant one, his sad song intercut with images of the failed charge of Faramir (David Wenham) and the demented, gluttinous Denathor (John Noble).
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<br />There is, however, only one real stand-out track on here. 'Minas Morgul' explodes back into the journey of Frodo and Sam (Sean Astin) to Mordor, taking us to the gates of the Dead City with sinister and shrill minor chords, the shock of which can make one shiver. With the suspenseful music being created all around you, your mind conjures up images of pale green beams of light, the black and dismal towers, like Gormenghast but darker still, and the thin tornado spiralling upwards into the heavens. Like a lot of what we have seen before, this is a duel between brass and strings, but in the end neither comes out victor. Instead you are left, much like our heroes, hanging on the edge of a precipice, not knowing what will happen next. It's a very short track - less than 2 minutes in length - but it is so much more spine-tingling than anything else on the album. It's brilliant stuff from Howard Shore.
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<br />'The Ride Of The Rohirrim' returns us to relative calm, transporting us from the world of orcs and nazg<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CDANIEL%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt; mso-header-margin:36.0pt; mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]-->ûl, back into the world of men. Once again it's a case of Shore pleasantly retreading old ground. The strings in the first 30 seconds are straight out of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Two Towers</span>, but this is fitting since this scene is dominated by Théoden (Bernard Hill). There's plenty of new stuff too, with sweeping phrases of soft strings, on which the dialogue sits, and of horns, where the action takes place.
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<br />'Twilight And Shadow' again turns the mood to one of sorrow. This music, which accompanies the premonition of Arwen (Liv Tyler), sees the first appeareance of vocalist Renée Fleming, and it's very beautiful indeed. There is an innately bittersweet quality to her voice; it's not the purest voice, nor the most resounding, but somehow it manages to tap into the mood of that scene extremely well, climaxing at just the right point, until you are right there beside Arwen, watching the tears roll down her cheeks.
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<br />'Cirith Ungol' is the shortest track on here, clocking in at just 1:44. You might expect, therefore, that there isn't much it can offer. But it is sustained and guided by a very well-written part for oboe, which oscillates its way through the mix to perfectly convey the sense of decaying evil surrounding the tower. If nothing else, it serves as a nice, climactic little bridge into which 'And<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt; mso-header-margin:36.0pt; mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]-->úril' can slot. This piece depicts the pivotal meeting between Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen) and Elrond (Hugo Weaving), who presents him with the sword of the same name. As you would expect, it's pretty emphatic in a standardised way towards the end, but this does not detract from the more significant and ethereal passages before. The ending is also good, as once again the chords go minor and Shore leaves the fate of the characters decidedly open.
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<br />With 'Shelob's Lair', on the other hand, no such ambiguity can be afforded. This is far more cluastrophobic, and the fear is explicit rather than any kind of self-nurtured psychological exaggeration. The deep bassoons, though rather reminiscent of <span style="font-style: italic;">'</span>The Sorcerer's Apprentice'<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>(from <span style="font-style: italic;">Fantasia </span>(1940)), set the mood very well, while the violins provide the descant to shred your nerves. After the first, anticlimactic part, the cellos become scratchier, making it sound like the character is drowning, and then the chase begins, with your heart remaining in your mouth throughout.
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<br />'Ash And Smoke' is somewhat compromised by its need to serve as light relief to the previous track. But this does not tarnish it completely, if at all, because this is no slowcoach. The notes may be easier to bear, but none of the brooding, deep spirit of the previous song has evaporated into thin air. It is just that the stricken strings have been replaced by bouncy tubas and thunderous timpanis, with (unnamed) female vocals providing the soprano part for the duo's entrance into Mordor.
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<br />'The Field Of The Pelannor' takes us back to Gondor, and to the arrival of Rohan's forces at the battle. The music is a little flat to start with, perhaps to allow greater space for Théoden's speech. And certain sequences are a little too reminiscent of 'Hymn To The Fallen', John Williams' great closer to <span style="font-style: italic;">Saving Private Ryan </span>(1998). But otherwise, this is all pure Shore, with its operatic, hysterical female vocals, hummable brass riffs and - if you listen carefully - cleverly thought out percussion. It's another good track, albeit a little too grandiose.
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<br />'Hope Fails', on the other hand, is not grandiose. It sees the return of the dark, abyss-like woodwind we heard on 'Shelob's Lair'. It has the air of a death sequence, or some other sepulchral encounter. But musically it's not all doom and gloom, with the mood being counterpointed by the horn section which is brighter than you might expect. It does go a bit brash towards the end, but that's okay, because the resolution is very good.
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<br />We are rapidly moving towards the film's climax, which is ideally conveyed in 'The Black Gate Opens'. Featuring the talents of acclaimed flautist Sir James Galway, this begins, like many of the other tracks, as a relatively up-tempo, brassed-up battle cry. But then the flute comes in, and as with Boyd's solo on 'The Steward Of Gondor', we shrink down from the big - the final battle between orcs and men - to the small: Frodo and Sam slowly crawling up the side of Mount Doom. It is a wonderful piece, which teeters delicately between these two worlds, paralleled and yet so completely divided. At the end we get the first hints of the closing theme, which we shall return to later.
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<br />No sooner have you finished basking in this, than you are flung head first into 'The End Of All Things'. This has the hardest job of all in a way, having to capture Frodo's final temptation by the ring, his being attacked by Gollum, the destruction of the ring, the fall of Barad-Dur and the eruption of Mount Doom. Tall order. But aside from a few rather overwhelming sections, this does it superbly. The female vocals at the beginning perfectly capture Frodo's temporary descent into madness and the panic of both Sam and Sauron, while Fleming's solo is magnificent, breaking into events as Gollom regains the ring and everything is held in the balance. The male voices that follow sound like the wails surrounding the monolith in <span style="font-style: italic;">2001: A Space Odyssey </span>(1968). It is a little too overwheming and weighty to be a true five-star track, but it's borderline, simply because there is so much brilliant stuff going on.
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<br />The title track begins with Frodo waking up in Rivendell with Gandalf (Ian McKellen) at his feet. It's the longest track by far, at 10:14, but then there is a lot to cram in. Having negotiated the first 2 minutes, which are in essence a cheesy, American-style reunion, we arrive at the important stuff, namely the coronation of Aragorn and his reunion with Arwen. Fleming and Galway are both here, the forming providing a sweet solo as Arwen is unveiled and presented by her father, the latter forming the accompaniment to Mortensen, another surprisingly natural singer. Don't be put off by the length, or the quantity of plot, because once again Shore pulls it off.
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<br />'The Grey Havens' is for some the saddest piece, being the song which marks Frodo's departure from the Shire and his friends forever. Having set up the characters safely back at home - sampling the Hobbiton theme from the first film - we are greeted by sad, Celtic sounds and open strings. There are familiar touches, but here they are garnish rather than motif to link the events of opposite ends of a film. The main theme - known as 'In Dreams' - is altered to reflect the scene, rather than vice versa, as perhaps was the case in the other two films. In between is more lovely oboe, which sings its minor song with grace as Frodo and Bilbo (Ian Holm) depart with the Elves.
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<br />It's just a shame that we have to finish on a low note. 'Into The West' is Annie Lennox's contribution, which plays over the end credits. It may have won an Oscar for Best Original Song, but this is less a reflection of its quality and more of Hollywood's inexhaustable desire for the sentimental. The simple guitar at the start and the Enya-esque backing set up a song which is to all purposes twee and self-absorbed. It's not Lennox's best performance, by any stretch of the imagination.
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<br />Of the three soundtracks within<span style="font-style: italic;"> The Lord of the Rings </span>trilogy, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Return Of The King </span>is the least successful. This is in many ways reflective of the role of the third film; there is only so much new material that can be introduced, because all the loose ends have to be tied up at its conclusion. Despite the near-constant re-use and re-working of themes, this is still a great set of songs or pieces which manages to stand on its own two feat. Symphony afficionados, who wish to listen all the way through, can easily manage it, with the total running time reaching just over an hour. More casual fans, who link certain sections to sequences in the film, will use it more as a reference point, listening to individual tracks as and when they please. This is therefore a soundtrack that manages to be a collection of great songs and a holistic product at the same time, which is a rare feat. In all, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Return Of The King </span>is beautifully written, well-orchestrated and very well-produced. It may be heavy-going, but when you have so much quality in such a small space, that is perhaps the only way to do things.
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<br /><div style="text-align: right;">4.00 out of 5
<br /></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-13753268124202520312008-10-17T21:28:00.013+01:002008-12-11T21:30:37.500+00:00Top 100 Albums - #17: Fragments Of Freedom (2000)Morcheeba's third and final entry is <span style="font-style: italic;">Fragments Of Freedom</span>, the follow-up to the highly successful and critically acclaimed <span style="font-style: italic;">Big Calm </span>(1998, #54).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvGiecAMJiyJUtlNLb3c47VUyfBvugq3KcyYEmTQlrFtw1AEgAPf4iJKqTNsAtviHIrfJQUtdSV2_Vh2bfbTyoXBy2rzaTDzgRBqE2zv6yxtsN1I47xHqzsNL3_oSI5On4GaUJ2dbvwE41/s1600-h/Fragments+Of+Freedom.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvGiecAMJiyJUtlNLb3c47VUyfBvugq3KcyYEmTQlrFtw1AEgAPf4iJKqTNsAtviHIrfJQUtdSV2_Vh2bfbTyoXBy2rzaTDzgRBqE2zv6yxtsN1I47xHqzsNL3_oSI5On4GaUJ2dbvwE41/s320/Fragments+Of+Freedom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258225007369519986" border="0" /><span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"><span class="on" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Add_Image" title="Add Image" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="addImage();" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);;ButtonMouseDown(this);"><img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Add Image" class="gl_photo" border="0" /></span></span></a>After the tentative release of two EPs in the second half of 1995 (<span style="font-style: italic;">Trigger Hippie </span>and <span style="font-style: italic;">Music We Can Hear</span> respectively), Skye Edwards & the Godfrey Brothers set out their trip-hop stall with their debut album, <em>Who Can You Trust? </em>(1996). The album received little real airplay but attracted the praise of critics, with AllMusicGuide.com calling it "a hauntingly atmospheric - and quite terrific - debut."¹ After spending much of 1997 on tour, the band returned to the studio to record the follow-up. The resulting album, <span style="font-style: italic;">Big Calm</span>, saw more poppy elements introduced to compliment their <span style="font-style: italic;"></span>roots, a reflection perhaps of the declining fortunes of bands like Portishead and Massive Attack. The more successful tours and reviews for this album convinced the band to continue moving in a pop direction.<br /><br />'World Looking In' is an enticing opener, beginning with Skye slowly whispering her way into the mix. The departure from the previous album is marked: the production is glossier and Skye is more syrupy in her tones. But we still get a decent, albeit spartan set of lyrics, delivered with a whistful feeling of abandon. The more light-hearted, whimsical mood is underscored in the final minute by the acoustic guitar, hinting at its widespread use on <span style="font-style: italic;">Charango </span>(2002, #18). In all, this is a good start to the album, setting out the new sound without being overbearing.<br /><br />'Rome Wasn't Built In A Day' has a lot more to live up to. Being the first single, it has to secure your attention so that the rest of the album becomes desirable. It doesn't disappoint. As on the previous track (the second single), we get a relatively simple set of lyrics, but these are made up for and counterpointed beautifully by both Skye and the brass section. With its multi-tracked female vocals, this has a gospel feel to it which helps to distinguish it from other featherweight singles of the day. It's a very catchy little number, which sung by anyone else would have been forgettable, but in the hands of Skye it is very, very good.<br /><br />Having got our full attention, 'Love Is Rare' takes things up a notch, drawing us slowly into the rest of the album. It builds on the previous track, keeping the brassy, flashy feel but bringing the drums further forward. The lyrics remain simplistic and teasing, as in the first verse:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">You've got a rocket in your pocket<br />Why can't you just let me be?<br />Have you no eyes in your sockets<br />Or are you just pleased to see me?<br /><br /></span>Beneath this rather cosmetic veneer, however, there is a proper song underneath. The vocals may be relatively anodyne, but they have a feistiness, at least in the first half, which drives them forwards and prevents the track from becoming boring. Meanwhile, the bombastic drums and heavy, funky bass will keep your head bobbing long after this has finished.<br /><br />As good as 'Love Is Rare' is, it can't hold a candle to the next track. 'Let It Go' sees Skye relaxing back into a more silky mode of singing, neatly juxtaposed against the heavy sounds emanating from behind her. The verses are very well-written, ridigly structured like a lot of Morcheeba tracks but still capable of titillating you. But it's the choruses that properly impress. The trumpets sing out between lines as Skye pushes the limits of her voice, achieving something wonderful along the way. In the bridge we get a great 1970s synthesiser solo from Ross Godfrey, and in spite of the inexplicable sampling in the fade-out, this is a properly brilliant track, not least because it makes you feel happy without feeling guility at the same time.<br /><br />'A Well-Deserved Break' is as hard a track to like as it is to dislike. On one level, it's a pleasant, chilled-out workout on acoustic and steel drums. It's a loop at heart, like most Morcheeba instrumentals, but it feels like it is going somewhere. In the end however, this goes on for far too long, as if the band had inserted it to meet the length requirements of their label.<br /><br />'Love Sweet Love', meanwhile, is a million miles from filler. It's a lot dancier than 'Let It Go', but Paul Godfrey's scratching and quicker tempo are beautifully matched by Ross's bubbly electric guitar, while percolates through the foreground like a Joe Satriani solo played at double speed. In the verse, the tempo is taken down with some soft jazz drumming, giving Skye all the room she needs - and she doesn't let you down, producing a dance track with a personality as well as a kick. And when the male vocal part comes in - courtesy of Mr. Complex - it doesn't ruin the track as Pace Won's work did on <span style="font-style: italic;">Charango</span>. It's a stonker of a track.<br /><br />Unfortunately, the next track is less of a stonker and more of a stinker. 'In The Hands Of The Gods' features Biz Markie on vocals and is quite simply the most atrocious song this band has ever produced. Not only does this have the worst intro ever written for any song, but Markie is an appalling lyricist, producing rhymes so embarrassingly poor that they might have come from a white man trying it in the 1980s. It's insanely terrible, bad enough to make you cringe and spill your guts, that such a thing should end up on a Morcheeba album.<br /><br />If, however, you have patience and guts still left over, you are rewarded with two amazing tracks. The first, 'Shallow End', is in many ways indicative of the new direction of the band. While the previous two albums were dark, heavy and serious, now this band is all about having fun and being relaxed. Skye sums this up as she sings <span style="font-style: italic;">I'm through with feeling deeply</span>. But there is more to this song than self-referencing and reflection. It's a love song at heart, about two people in a relationship looking to take things a little easier. As before, we get some great guitar from R. Godfrey, and the whole thing has a bright, summery feel which makes you want to fling the windows wide open and share your joy with the world.<br /><br />The other masterpiece, 'Be Yourself', is a little more subtle and a lot more downbeat. At 3:16 it would have been a better choice for a second single than 'World Looking In', largely because it feels more compact and amenable. It's not a lightweight though, by any means; it may have lyrics which are easy on the ears, but there's plenty of stuff going on behind Skye to hold your attention. We get more lovely acoustic, and a fair bit of synthesiser work passed off as brass. It's hardly the most intellectual, thought-provoking song on the planet, but Morcheeba's substance and success as a band has always been built upon their knack for finding a groove. Here they have taken a great groove, shrouded it in great musicianship, and the result is amazing.<br /><br />'Coming Down Gently' rather lives up to its name: it's not quite as good as the previous tracks, but it's not a massive drop in quality in the way that 'A Well-Deserved Break' would seem. It is slower-paced, and a looped track, but interestingly it still feels like it's going somewhere. You learn to spot the different phrases as they dance backwards and forwards, but the band have left in little touches like the flute solo and the mellotron-esque keyboard at the end, to sustain you in your relaxing trek.<br /><br />'Good Girl Down' is another amazing track from a band truly at its peak. Skye has often been criticised for not being able to convey a range of emotions in her voice, but once you hear this you will leap at the chance to disagree.² Where before she was merely sultry, or alluring, or teasing, or even just plain sexy, here she sounds feisty, and more aggressive. In fact, this track could almost be described as a light-hearted feminist anthem; the vocals are still sung with beauty, but there is a sting in the tale because they reflect a desire to stand up and be recognised. The presence of Bahamadia on this track helps to bolster this image, as do the elegant but stricken strings and snazzy production. This feels delicate and tight, and yet wild and uncaged, making it something very rare indeed.<br /><br />The title track, which closes the album, is in true Morcheeba tradition a looping instrumental-of-sorts. While not as bad overall as its counterpart on <span style="font-style: italic;">Big Calm</span>, it's hardly a stand-out. The hi-hat at the start is ugly, the guitar meanders aimlessly and the drums sound as unoriginal and as badly produced as they do on a Beatles track (i.e. very poor). It's a tragic way to finish what is otherwise a promising album.<br /><br />There are, in many ways, a lot of things wrong with <span style="font-style: italic;">Fragments Of Freedom</span>. The production is a little too glossy; the lyrics are not always up to scratch; and it contains one of the worst songs ever written. As I said in my review of <span style="font-style: italic;">Charango</span>, if you view albums more as an experience than as a collection of songs, then the follow-up to this will be more your sort of thing. Even so, there is so much good music on offer here that it seems a shame not to recognise what an achievement this album is. The few let-downs aside, it is a hugely consistent body of work, and because each of the great tracks stand so well by themselves, you can listen to the songs in any order you choose - surely a boon in the playlist generation. Above all, though, this is the peak of Morcheeba's output simply because it is so much fun - you can dance to this album to your heart's content, or play it on a long drive without once getting bored. It is difficult to find music that can be both fun and substantial at the same time, making <span style="font-style: italic;">Fragments Of Freedom </span>a rare thing indeed.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">4.00 out of 5<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">References</span><br />¹ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, 'Who Can You Trust?', http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=10:hxfrxqlhldhe. Accessed on December 8 2008.<br />² Nina Pearlmann, 'Morcheeba', http://www.rollingstone.com/artists/morcheeba/biography. Accessed on December 8 2008.<br /></div></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-53643591288337100562008-10-02T23:20:00.015+01:002008-12-08T01:29:53.695+00:00Top 100 Albums - #18: Charango (2002)Morcheeba's penultimate chart entry is <span style="font-style: italic;">Charango</span>, their fourth album and the last to feature Skye Edwards on vocals.
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAorU3bIfuuLal9Axck1DHV88Mu8UM7StBhGL-dNxjNpGJ_zrkEOSHkZ4cKtyYbl43vsfS7XXdkZozeN_7EtElvj7vFk9ny0k23oNWYKS-3ry_qkU3qbb5m6uj11cyyWaOpWY_CfY8j0UC/s1600-h/Charango.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAorU3bIfuuLal9Axck1DHV88Mu8UM7StBhGL-dNxjNpGJ_zrkEOSHkZ4cKtyYbl43vsfS7XXdkZozeN_7EtElvj7vFk9ny0k23oNWYKS-3ry_qkU3qbb5m6uj11cyyWaOpWY_CfY8j0UC/s320/Charango.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252685430970839458" border="0" /></a>After the warm reception accorded to <span style="font-style: italic;">Big Calm </span>(1998, #54), Morcheeba began to experiment with sounds outside of their trip-hop roots. The resulting album, <span style="font-style: italic;">Fragments Of Freedom </span>(2000), was much more poppy in tone, meeting with poor reviews but the best sales of the band's career, along with a hit single, 'Rome Wasn't Built In A Day'. Following the tour to promote both album and single, the band signed to Warner Bros. Records - departing from Sire - and began to work on new material. To whet the fans' appetite, the group released <span style="font-style: italic;">Back To Mine </span>(2001), a compilation album of artists that inspired the Godfrey Brothers. All the tracks were remixed and the album also featured 'On The Rhodes Again', an off-cut from <span style="font-style: italic;">Who Can You Trust? </span>(1996).
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<br />Things couldn't start more perfectly. 'Slow Down' is a chilled-out classic, featuring all the ingredients that made <span style="font-style: italic;">Big Calm </span>so compelling: rich production, smooth lyrics and a sultry performance from Skye. The track opens with a sweet duet between a cello and a guitar, the former subtlely rasping in the bass lines while the later whines sweetly through its highest registers. Skye's voice is as smoky and as teasing as it was on <span style="font-style: italic;">Big Calm</span>, but all the tragedy present on that record has been replaced by a relaxed state of contentment. There is nothing logically wrong with this song - the production is flawless, the musicianship is brilliantly balanced, and nothing is allowed to drag or dominate unduly. It's an absolute treat of an opening track.
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<br />'Otherwise' can't really compete, but don't think that it's a bad song because of this. We get more strings (violins this time), but the feel is very different. Where 'Slow Down' was a laid-back chillout classic, this is a cool three-minute single. Well, three-and-a-bit. The lyrics are a lot more simply structured, but this just makes them catchier; the chorus in particular manages to be easily memorable while hanging on to some substance. Skye is given more room on this track, and responds by letting herself go just a little.
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<br />'Aqualung' is more fun, with funkier touches on the production and in the choice of instruments. The bass especially is given more room, coupling with the dance-y drums to drive the track forward. We get more strings too, serving up some sweet harmonies in between the multi-tracked vocals. Finally, we get a very nice flute solo in the middle, which keeps you on your toes. So often flutes can sound horrible on record, but once again the Godfrey Brothers prove themselves to be masters of the art.
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<br />'São Paulo' is probably the saddest track on this album. Being pop, there is only so much emotion that can be conveyed before it becomes overbearing and esoteric. Here Skye returns to singing his tears, lamenting that her life is <span style="font-style: italic;">one big cli<span style="font-family: georgia;">ch</span></span><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CDANIEL%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:595.3pt 841.9pt; margin:72.0pt 89.85pt 72.0pt 15.9pt; mso-header-margin:35.45pt; mso-footer-margin:35.45pt; mso-gutter-margin:68.05pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;">é </span>and regretting a past love. Her sultry tones blend beautifully with the harmonica, so that we are truly taken to the Brazilian shanty towns that surround the city. Everything about this track is marvellous, as once again we are confronted with perfect production: immaculate enough so that you can sit back and relax, but tantalising enough to let your ears wander.
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<br />The title track is the first glimpse we get on here on Morcheeba dropping the ball. Both title tracks on <span style="font-style: italic;">Big Calm </span>and <span style="font-style: italic;">Fragments Of Freedom</span> were empty and below-par instrumentals, with occasional lyrics shoved on in a vague attempt to sustain your interest. And this is no different. By the time Pace Won comes in with any lyrics, you're bored with the riffs and scratches, and so will struggle to notice.
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<br />Happily, however, we get our money's worth on the next track. 'What New York Couples Fight About' sees Skye dueting with Kurt Wagner, who half-whispers, half-croons his lyrics in a manner which is completely captivating. The two sets of vocals gel very nicely, so that you quickly ignore any weak links in the actual lyrics (of which there are few). This track is a little too long - at 6:16 it's the longest on the album - but as with 'Slow Down' there isn't much to drag this down or hold the duo back. Listen hard for the gorgeous lap steel in the second chorus.
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<br />'Undress Me Now' is the second single to be culled from the album, and kicks off the second half in some style. The strings are still there, as is the prominent dance-influenced bass, but we get some acoustic guitar added to the mix at the start. Perhaps this is an indication of Skye's differing styles, present on her first solo effort, <span style="font-style: italic;">Mind How You Go </span>(2006, #24). It's not the most substancial song ever recorded, but it sits charmingly and comfortably amid the other tracks.
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<br />'Way Beyond' is the last truly great track on here, if not the last truly great track Morcheeba have produced to date. Skye is probably the only female singer who can take an opening line like <span style="font-style: italic;">Driving with your handbrake on/ But you can't smell the burning</span> and turn it into a believable romance ode. This is clearly her song; not only is her performance more connected and more personal, but the instruments surrounding her have been arranged to compliment it perfectly. The casual, jazzy trumpet in the chorus, for instance, feels made for her voice, rather than just another backing part shoved on in the control room. It's a beautiful song, perfectly written and wonderfully served up.
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<br />Having gone all serious on us, Morcheeba bring back the fun factor with 'Women Lose Weight'. Guest vocalist Slick Rick takes the limelight in this tale about a man killing his wife, delivering in a macabre but surprisingly playful manner. It's very tongue-in-cheek, but it manages to carry itself off on the strength of its lyrics. The storyline isn't exactly as hard as <span style="font-style: italic;">Ulysses </span>to follow, but it's well thought out, fits snugly into the rhythm and it doesn't try to be too clever, leaving most of the imagery to the listeners.
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<br />We then segue into 'Get Along', Pace Won's second guest spot on vocals. It's very different to the title track, but it still comes up short on content. Skye gives her all but the vocals are lazy and repetitive, and things don't improve when the male part comes in (<span style="font-style: italic;">fast as your pasta</span>, anyone?). This is possibly redeemed by the guitar workout at the end, but even this isn't good enough. 'Public Displays Of Affection' is better, with Skye back on form and in a complaining mood. She bemoans kissing lovers<span style="font-style: italic;">, welded orally</span>, turning it inwards as a statement to her perceived insignificance (<span style="font-style: italic;">I can't wait for my next rejection/ I'm always the first in the queue</span>). The verse and chorus structure is still quite rigid, but there is enough going on to keep things moving.
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<br />As on the previous two albums, we close with an instrumental, and not an especially good one. 'The Great London Traffic Warden Massacre' may have a title lifted from psychedelic rock, but it feels like nothing of the sort. Instead it's a bouncy hotch potch of a number, borrowing little snippets from all over the place but never bringing them together into anything that feels like a coalesced whole. In essence it's a loop, in the same way that Pink Floyd's 'Terminal Frost' is a loop (see my review of <span style="font-style: italic;">A Momentary Lapse Of Reason</span> (1987, #62). But where that grows slowly, and sustains your interest throughout, this will see you sink slowly into sleep, wishing that it would stop.
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<br />Certain editions of the album feature a second disc, containing instrumental versions of all tracks. As a general rule they do not differ in quality from the standard versions, and as a result will not be of much interest to anyone who doesn't have a pressing interest in either sound engineering or karaoke. They do however serve a useful purpose as a passing contrast to the finished products, if only to remind us how integral Skye really is in the Morcheeba sound.
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<br />One complaint that could be made about <span style="font-style: italic;">Charango</span> is that it is too complete, too serious. It is more grown-up and more refined than its predecessor, and some of the fun has gone. But something else has replaced the fun: a sense of contentment and purpose. If <span style="font-style: italic;">Fragments Of Freedom</span> was like a white mural with pots of paint thrown over it - lots of fun but hardly the prettiest thing to behold - then this is Constable's <span style="font-style: italic;">The Hay Wain </span>(1821) - a meticulous, perfectly crafted work of beauty, whose quality breeds a snobbish attitude. It is the culmination of all that made Morcheeba technically great, with production that is a million miles from their smoky, static-filled beginnings. It is not their finest album, because of the inconsistent vocal contributions and lack of brevity in parts of the lyrics, but there is no denying that the band have never sounded cleaner and brighter. As a collection of individual songs, all jostling for position, <span style="font-style: italic;">Fragments </span>beats this hands down - but as an experience, <span style="font-style: italic;">Charango</span> is by far the band's best album.
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<br /><div style="text-align: right;">4.00 out of 5
<br /></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-16453833802412760452008-09-29T19:22:00.021+01:002008-11-20T12:03:05.752+00:00Top 100 Albums - #19: No More Shall We Part (2001)At number 19 is <span style="font-style: italic;">No More Shall We Part</span>, the penultimate chart entry for Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpogpuAWAG1tyhV4dE-gFMg9kAL26jJAfBkIp5ogICHmU6HEEECDy6heab56inBwz8lh8n-U5-6FJDinYvTPahnvHvV5VpxpzKbplGDnFAhSlxmbVlt0mgFeypCNojQrt2XjFj4sPyv1To/s1600-h/No+More+Shall+We+Part.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpogpuAWAG1tyhV4dE-gFMg9kAL26jJAfBkIp5ogICHmU6HEEECDy6heab56inBwz8lh8n-U5-6FJDinYvTPahnvHvV5VpxpzKbplGDnFAhSlxmbVlt0mgFeypCNojQrt2XjFj4sPyv1To/s320/No+More+Shall+We+Part.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251511529502618146" border="0" /></a>The release of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Boatman's Call </span>in March 1997 marked a departure for Cave's songwriting. Right up to its predecessor, <span style="font-style: italic;">Murder Ballads</span> (1996), the Bad Seeds' songs had been characterised by violence and irony in near-industrial quantities; now, Cave was being confessional and honest, producing beautiful melodies on the piano and providing heartfelt lyrics to match. Critics hailed it as the band's masterpiece, the summation of all their work. In the four years after its release, the band briefly toured before Cave withdrew from public life to overcome the heroin addition which had dogged him for 20 years. A best-of compilation was released in 1998, and around this time Cave married British model Susie Bick. Cave finally beat his addiction in 2000 and quickly returned to the studio to recover his muse.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">No More Shall We Part </span>begins with 'As I Sat Sadly By Her Side', a very apt means of introducing us to this new post-heroin Cave. With the opening guitar strum, all seems normal, but once the piano comes in you things quickly change. Cave's playing is surprisingly sweet for a male touch, even considering the upper registers dominate the musical landscape. In true Cave style, there are so many lyrics that it is often overwhelming and hard to pick out killer lines. Instead, you are bathed in a wave of unbelievable sadness. The mood is almost funereal, without a trace of Cave's venomous or ironic streaks, and you are completely taken in.<br /><br />The title track introduces an <span style="font-style: italic;">a cappella </span>element which is a feature of this album. On previous albums, especially <span style="font-style: italic;">Murder Ballads</span>, such a title would have hinted at darker subject matters - instead of marrying his lover, as here, the protagonist would be brutally murdering her and then burying her deep in a forest. The result is, suffice to say, wierd. The mood is still dark, dour and sombre, even at the points where you are most convinced that the sepulchral Cave is happy (for once). The violins in the final third - arranged by Mick Harvey - help no end, but you are still left with questions alongside the feeling of wonder.<br /><br />There are more strings on offer on 'Hallelujah'. Cave is quicker here, more 'upbeat' (for want of a better word), but the beat continues to move at a crawl. Thomas Wylder's drumming consists of simple cross-stick snare and jazzy ride work, all at a snail's pace and just as flashy. This juxtaposition never becomes completely annoying or unnerving, which is just as well considering that this is the longest track, at 7:48. But this remains one for Cave devotees - it's very good, but everyone else will wish it were about half the length.<br /><br />With 'Love Letter', however, nothing is wasted. It is half the length of the last track, but Cave is not cutting any corners. On the contrary, this is deeper and more bittersweet than anything else on here. The piano from the first track is brightened up and paired with the languid violins to create a melody so sumptuous and yet so restrained. Cave sings sweetly and beautifully, crooning lines about a desperate plea to a dear love and just as on <span style="font-style: italic;">The Boatman's Call</span> he is being completely honest. This may be slow, down-tempo and written in a cumbersome key, but you nevertheless find yourself completely captivated by what Cave has created. Take the second verse as an example:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">A wicked wind whips up the hill<br />With a handful of hopeful words<br />I love her and I always will<br />The sky is ready to burst<br />Said something I did not mean to say<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;">Said something I did not mean to say<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;">Said something I did not mean to say<br />It all came out the wrong way<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span></span></span>On top of this, the chorus is simple but serene; the band don't waste your time with superfluous images which are too clever to understand. This is a quiet slice of majesty, a true classic within the Bad Seeds catalogue and an underrated masterpiece outside of it.<br /><br />'Fifteen Feet Of Pure White Snow' is the first hint we get that not everyone in the band is sitting comfortably with this new style. We still get the <span style="font-style: italic;">a cappella </span>and the gorgeous piano of 'As I Sat Sadly By Her Side'. But on the chorus things explode just a little bit, as the drums wake up, jagged chords lurch forward from the piano and the bass gets just a little bit louder. Throughout this, it feels like Cave is acting as the safety valve. He still just manages to dominate, like the cork about to burst out of a champagne bottle, so that even in its violent ending the band is never allowed to emulate its choatic past. (The band would pull off the same trick on the follow-up, <span style="font-style: italic;">Nocturama </span>(2003), with songs like 'Bring It On').<br /><br />'God Is In The House' sees the continuation of the quiet and introspective mood we saw so much of on <span style="font-style: italic;">The Boatman's Call</span>. The piano glides through the mix, with only some deep strings and subtle brushwork on the drums to disturb its grace. Cave's lyrics are sprawling and yearning, and we get another taste of his past self, all tinged in bitter irony. They are one long polemic against cozy American 'Christianity', in all its prudishness and double standards. But despite this acidic subject matter, we again find Cave restrained by himself, holding back, telling us less so he can give us so much more.<br /><br />'Oh My Lord' kicks off the second half of the album with one of the most off-putting openings of any song. Cave half-croons, half-speaks <span style="font-style: italic;">I thought I'd talk a walk today</span> totally out of tune and with contempt for any rhythm. Past the first 8 seconds, however, this is still a good song, if a little more repetitive than anything we have seen so far. As a result of this, many will be put off and not make it to the end of the song. Those that do, however, will have much to chew on, for this is a song that makes you think.<br /><br />'Sweetheart Come' also has another off-putting opening - <span style="font-style: italic;">Come over here babe</span>, out of key again - but recovers amply to justify its inclusion. More than that, this is one of the key songs on here, a song in which Cave is coming to terms with his new feelings, and is happy in his resignation. The key lines come early on: <span style="font-style: italic;">Seems we can be happy now/ Better late than never. </span>This is clearly a eulogy to Bick, in which Cave is uninhibited and uncaged at last. 'The Sorrowful Wife', on the other hand, is a bit too long to past the same muster. Everything is weaker, from the choice of chords to the progression of the lyrics; you have barely gotten halfway through before you have soaked up all you can and want to move on. It's not helped by the jumped-up second half, with its atonal chords and even more atonal singing, in an eerie foreshadowing of <span style="font-style: italic;">Nocturama</span>.<br /><br />'We Came Along This Road' restores the calm and reinstates the pathos-ridden spirit, brutally tarnished by the last track. Where before his piano playing was questionable, here the richness has returned and his voice is back on form. Wylder plays his part, laying down a drum part which draws all the threads together and focuses you more on the sweetness of the chords. In the final third he is joined by some wonderful violins straight out of a Bach concerto which lift the song to new symphonic heights.<br /><br />The last two tracks are broadly similar ventures, in terms of sound and quality. 'Gates Of The Garden' brings guitar back into the mix; Blixa Bargeld is given more room to impress, and his distorted slide work doesn't disappoint. The song is more overtly Biblical than a lot of stuff on here, but there is still plenty of room for alternative interpretations, like the work of all the best songwriters. 'Darker With The Day' has greater trepidation about it - the opening chords are minor and less sure of themselves, and Cave's voice has a more quivering quality to it. He sings like a disillusioned philosopher, walking into the fog to his death. At the heart, though, there is still love, deep and unquestioning love which settles his heart and reassures him that all will be well.<br /><br />If there is one criticism to be made about <span style="font-style: italic;">No More Shall We Part</span>, it is that listening to it is an exhausting experience. There is so much soul-bearing and soul-searching on here, and so much emotion to digest, that one can come away completely worn out. But while this album is heavy-going, it is not impossible. On the contrary, it is very easy to fall in love with this album, and to be amazed by the quality of songwriting on display. It may not have the quaint, childlike elegance of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Good Son </span>(1990, #40), on the bombastic abandon of <span style="font-style: italic;">Abattoir Blues </span>(2004, #69)<span style="font-style: italic;">, </span>but on almost every song we are encountered by a band at their most tight-knit and mature. On later albums, the older, more sprawling elements would return with mixed results, but here everything is tied down and neatly arranged for your pleasure. All you have to do is give it enough patience, and all will slowly become clear.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">4.00 out of 5<br /></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-16943969817159687922008-09-01T02:14:00.011+01:002008-11-20T12:04:48.294+00:00Top 100 Albums - #20: Harbinger (1994)American singer-songwriter Paula Cole kicks off the Top 20 with her debut album, <span style="font-style: italic;">Harbinger</span>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEqHeIn9WOzIIXyoccCUcShNn43dUSFsepQK7JuiQRSt2kEL5X6rYsIrQSoaJ3pdyWB74gIhWAZmhSDg6wjIx1O5ngfDOgdZTs4CROoF8pZ1FL5f9HQs2PUwdZUigG2Twuv5C7AKv6NXcx/s1600-h/Harbinger.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEqHeIn9WOzIIXyoccCUcShNn43dUSFsepQK7JuiQRSt2kEL5X6rYsIrQSoaJ3pdyWB74gIhWAZmhSDg6wjIx1O5ngfDOgdZTs4CROoF8pZ1FL5f9HQs2PUwdZUigG2Twuv5C7AKv6NXcx/s320/Harbinger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240855712139659618" border="0" /></a>Paula Cole was born in Rockport, Massachusetts in 1968, to a visual artist and an entomologist. Both her parents were musical, encouraging her to sing and make her own music from a very young age. She was educated at the local Elementary School, before moving on to the Berklee College of Music in Boston aged 18 to study Jazz Singing and Improvisation. During her time there she became a leading light in the College's gospel choir. After graduating in 1989, Cole relocated to New York and spent the next four years trying to get recognised as a poet and musician. She was brought onto the world stage when Peter Gabriel invited her to perform on his <span style="font-style: italic;">Secret World</span> tour in 1993, singing the vocals handled on record by the likes of Kate Bush and Sinead O'Connor. Her performance went down a storm and brought her to the attention of Imago Records.<br /><br />Things don't start well. 'Happy Home' feels tired and cloyed from the outset. The warbles coming from the guitar have a cheap, lacklustre feel to them, and the track does very little justice to Cole's incredible voice. She makes matters worse with a set of lyrics that are decidedly second-rate - she jumps from the breathy <span style="font-style: italic;">We tried so hard to build a happy home </span>so the utterly cliched <span style="font-style: italic;">Home sweet freedom</span>. It's far from the worst track in the world, but it's hardly a convincing way to kick off a singing career.<br /><br />'I Am So Ordinary' does that job a whole lot better. The guitar here is much brighter, the production is more intriguing, and Cole is allowed to open up a little more in what feels like a very close subject. The lyrics depict a woman feeling inadequate after her man starts seeing someone else, who just happens to be perfect in every way. Where a lot of songwriters will force their overly clever musings on you, Cole is content to conjure up little marvels that we only pick up on second or third time around - <span style="font-style: italic;">She is your Queen Cleopatra/ And I'm just your morning after </span>being a prime example.<br /><br />'Saturn Girl' sees the introduction of strings into the mix, a move which will prove beneficial as we go on. This is more poppy in sound, with a more catchy and fragmented chorus. But the song is still tinged with sadness, not enough to make you weep but more than enough to make your heart sink. Cole's delivery is bitter, like she is singing the scars that life has given her. In her higher registers, she is stricken and fearful, and lower down her anger comes to the surface for all to see. But despite this very personal approach to music, her introspection never becomes overwhelming. On the contrary, it makes you want to know her more.<br /><br />This stricken mood continues on 'Watch The Woman's Hands'. One critic compared this to Kate Bush's later work, and there is something to that.¹ This is kookier than before, but there are none of the sacharine pop touches that characterised Bush's work on <span style="font-style: italic;">The Red Shoes </span>(1993). Cole is still earthy, still downtrodden, and still angry. The rhythms created at the start, by a combination of bass and breathy beat-boxing, don't just work as a pulse. As the song rises, it serves to heighten the claustrophobia of her predicament, until you only have the yearning chorus as a means of escape.<br /><br />'Bethlehem', on the other hand, provides no such escape route. At the start you will be lulled into a false sense of security with the slow tempo and lilting guitar. But lyrically this is Cole at her most vitriolic and bizarre. You may well find lines like <span style="font-style: italic;">I wanna be a dog/ Or I wanna to be a leaf</span> rather off-putting, but the verses are starkly (and darkly) honest:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Everybody's talking 'bout Becky's bust<br />The boys on the basketball team just fuck<br />The same ten girls, who don't know who they are<br />They're looking for some comfort in the back of a car<br />The six packs of beer, the locker room jeers<br />I don't wanna be me, I don't wanna be here<br /><br /></span>On subsequent albums, from <span style="font-style: italic;">This Fire </span>(1996) onwards, such sentiments would be diluted and sanitised by the poppier sounds on offer. But here, all you have is a brutally true glimpse into one unhappy childhood.<br /><br />'Chiaroscuro' is a little brigher, with Cole showing her artier side. Sure enough, the lyrics reference goodness knows how many painters, none of which add much to this story of inter-racial love. But there is still enough on offer to tittillate you. This is one of the few songs to successfully combine rock singing and beat-boxing, of the kind that we saw earlier. Cole's voice is on true form, cresting the higher notes without becoming just a wailing blanket of noise like so many singers do. And the backing band excel themselves throughout, from the violins and cellos at the start to the echoey snare on the choruses.<br /><br />Having gone all orchestral on us, the next track invites us to take a breath and refocus. To that end, 'Black Boots' is just Paula on her own with a piano. Where before her voice was treble-y and wailing, he she sings right down and her delivery takes on a smoky quality. The chords she drives out would fit in well at a 1920s club; and sure enough, this sounds both spooky and avant-garde. 'Oh John', however, is a case of too much information. The song chronicles the protagonist's coast to coast sexual exploits in the United States. While there's nothing particularly disgusting about the subject matter, or the way in which Cole says it, the thin nature of the subject means that this song quickly runs out of steam.<br /><br />Fear not, though, because now the album really gets into its stride. 'Our Revenge' features one of the most original and captivating verse structures since the 1960s. The strings set the tone with some brooding minor chords, and then Cole steps up to the mic and delivers a fabulous performance. The lines run into seemlessly into one other, each ending with a long, haunting note from the gut which both chills you and excites you. In the choruses, the strings and Cole's angry vocals are balanced beautifully by the flamenco-esque acoustic guitar. This is not the catchiest song ever, but it's so wondefully put together and original that you find yourself deeply drawn to it.<br /><br />'Dear Gertrude' is just as fabulous. More bizarre, more unhinged and more ethereal than 'Our Revenge', the first time you hear this you may be tempted to turn off. But slowly, the female vocals become warm, the lyrics worm their way into your subconscious and it all begins to make sense. The object of this song is unclear - 'Gertrude' begins as a spiritual essence of some kind, maybe an angel, but in the last verse, when Cole murmurs <span style="font-style: italic;">You're so lonely in my body</span>, she could easily be her unborn child. Either way, this song is a deeply sensual experience. It will lift your spirits in ways you cannot really comprehend, and you will love it more each time you listen.<br /><br />'Hitler's Brothers' is probably the strangest track on the album. Like on 'Our Revenge', we get an unusual set of lyrics, only this time the chorus grows by one or two lines each time. The precise reason for this is unclear - suffice to say that this is captivating enough for it not to be an incentive to listen to the end. The verses, meanwhile, are another look at racism, albeit more extreme than that in 'Chiaroscuro'. They describe death at the hands of the Ku Klux Klan, police corruption and the treatment of Chinese as second-class citizens. And if that wasn't enough, we get a parody of Hitler's Nuremberg address in the middle. Light, breezy stuff.<br /><br />'She Can't Feel Anything Anymore' could casually be described as one of the greatest little-known wonders of modern music. But that label does not really justify just how special this is. Like 'Black Boots' this is stripped back, until it is just Cole with a mourning violin and a bass. The lyrics are incredibly harrowing; they describe an incident of domestic violence (or possibly even rape), but paint both victim and assailant as troubled, ordinary human beings so that you don't know who is in more pain. The lone violin between the verses slips out of the languid background and hums a bittersweet series of notes like the instrument itself is weeping. The closing words will chill you deeply:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">He tried painfully,<br />He begged for her forgiveness on his knees<br />She give gracefully, but inside<br />But inside,<br />She still bleeds.<br /></span><br />Cole gives a performance of an operatic nature, which blows everything else out of the water. You will listen to this track sparingly, because it is just so powerful, but there can be no doubt as to how remarkable an achievement it is.<br /><br />The final two tracks are both poor relations of this, although 'Garden Of Eden' remains very good. Cole's spiritual side comes back to the surface as she grapples with the Genesis myth, again providing us with a soaring performance on vocals. This doesn't have as much substance as a lot of the tracks, but there is still the odd charming lyric which leaches out to save the track. The chorus in particular becomes more charming as we go along. 'The Ladder', meanwhile, is a less confident number on which to finish. The chorus is good on this one as well, but on the verses the kooky backing vocals quickly become annoying. What's more, there is not enough of a proper melody to back this up, and so in the final third Cole resorts to some 1980s drums and throaty straining to keep us interested.<br /><br />If singer-songwriters have gained a reputation for being anodyne and banal, <span style="font-style: italic;">Harbinger </span>is a lingering reminder that the genre can still cough up blood and guts from time to time. It's not an easy record to listen to, whether in one go or in bits. And that's because at its core, this is a deeply personal record, a document of one woman struggling in the modern world, brought about in many weird and tantalising ways. It is a catalogue of calamity, the pouring out of one's heart in situations which inflict pain, anguish and suffering to breaking point. It pulls no punches and makes no excuses for its more oblique moments. This will not flatter you with easy metaphors; it will shock you and scare you, and in doing so make you feel good to be alive. Subsquent Cole efforts were more well-presented and together, and as a result more successful. But for raw quality and sheer heartache, this is definitely the place to be.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /><div style="text-align: right;">4.00 out of 5<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">References</span><br />¹ Kelvin Hayes, 'Harbinger', http://allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=10:jifqxqwhldde. Accessed on October 2 2008.<br /></div></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-88379877463201892972008-08-20T20:42:00.009+01:002008-11-20T12:05:33.708+00:00Top 100 Albums - #21: Peter Gabriel 3 (1980)At number 21 is <span style="font-style: italic;">Peter Gabriel 3</span>, Peter Gabriel's third solo offering and his highest entry on the chart.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwMjnJT6sKU2FcXB8Gq3mfCvDrWLXDvYxtwV4TzCM4IqoaU7s1k7V2pkjeOYnObmw0Wt53Ncgl9GQZNWetwrxoRWfT399YCH_fceo8QUgAgv-WHRFUtXKq50-ZnVbykXxRIMz29mtkHTr8/s1600-h/Peter+Gabriel+3.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwMjnJT6sKU2FcXB8Gq3mfCvDrWLXDvYxtwV4TzCM4IqoaU7s1k7V2pkjeOYnObmw0Wt53Ncgl9GQZNWetwrxoRWfT399YCH_fceo8QUgAgv-WHRFUtXKq50-ZnVbykXxRIMz29mtkHTr8/s320/Peter+Gabriel+3.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236688323967887282" border="0" /></a>After departing from Genesis in 1975, Gabriel spent the best part of two years in self-imposed isolation at his Surrey home. He spent his time growing vegetables, playing the piano, practicing yoga and raising his new-born daughter. In 1977 he finally returned to the studio under the supervision of Bob Ezrin. The resulting record, <span style="font-style: italic;">Peter Gabriel 1 </span>(1977, #71), was a menagerie of different styles which came together to successfully distance Gabriel's sound from that of his former bandmates. After a short tour, he released <span style="font-style: italic;">Peter Gabriel 2</span> (1978, #85), produced by Robert Fripp. This was a more transitional affair, with Gabriel still unclear of where he was going musically. Gabriel spent the rest of 1978 and the best part of 1979 on tour, bumping into his old bandmates along the way. He made a guest appearance with Genesis in New York for one date in their tour for <span style="font-style: italic;">And Then There Were Three </span>(1978) and played a set at the Reading Festival where Phil Collins played the drums.<br /><br />Fittingly, it is with Collins that we start. 'Intruder' is one of the first tracks in music history to employ 'gated reverb' on the drums, the sound that would define Collins' solo work. In layman's terms, the drums are recorded in a very echoey room, captured on condenser microphones and then passed through a noise gate, which cuts out when the sound rises too high. The mood thus created is ideal for the lyrics about someone breaking into a lady's house at night. Amid the atonal guitar chords, Gabriel begins with some distant screams, and then delivers the verses as if he is right next to you in the darkness, whispering in your ear. It's genuinely unnerving.<br /><br />On 'No Self-Control', this dark mood is taken further. The opening is very distinctive, as the synthesisers dash back and forth between each ear, until your eyes are following them. Then the sinister xylophones come in, which are kooky but sound like they are made of human bone. In the midst of this, Gabriel is a demon unleased, crammed full of claustrophobia and paranoia. The drums on the chorus ring out like machine gun volleys, and in the verses the repeated line <em>I don't know how to stop</em> locks you in to the darkness. Kate Bush provides light relief on backing vocals, but this remains a thick and murky marvel.<br /><br />'Start' is a short instrumental, lasting 1:21 and segueing into the next track. Although it is a segue piece, it's impressive in its own right. Dick Morrissey's saxophone solo, which dominates it, is very well-written, adding a sad jazzy twinge to the atmospheric art rock on offer elsewhere. It also serves as a 'breathing point' between the terror of 'No Self-Control' and the angry angst of 'I Don't Remember'.<br /><br />This, on the other hand, cannot be reduced to filler, and it certainly doesn't give you room to breathe. Just like on the opener, the drum beat is relentless, pounding through your skull like a carpenter's chisel while John Giblin's bass rumbles on. Gabriel is at the top of his game, both lyrically and vocally. In the first verse he sets out his new image in complete defiance of the old:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I've got no means to show identification<br />I've got no papers, show you what I am<br />You'll have to take me just the way that you find me<br />What's gone is gone and I do not give a damn<br /><br /></span>These lyrics work with the scary instrumentation to produce a real gung-ho triumph. Gabriel's first two albums had some great songs on them, but none of them were as upfront as this in distancing him from the light, airy psychedelia that he helped to create in Genesis. This is so completely removed from that sound and era, that it has the initial effect of shocking you. But then as you listen all the way through you are reassured, then pleased, then delighted that the new Gabriel is even better.<br /><br />'Family Snapshot' is not as gung-ho, and nowhere near as upfront. But it still manages to be brilliant beyond measure. Gabriel is underrated as a pianist, and the intro to this song is among his finest and most ethereal. He would later reuse this riff on <span style="font-style: italic;">Birdy </span>(1985), the soundtrack to the Alan Parker film of the same name. There it is stark and delicate, but here it blends with his calming, raspy voice. Having started slow, it gradually rears its head in rage, carrying so much power without being overwhelming on the ears. The lyrics are based on the book <span style="font-style: italic;">An Assassin's Diary</span> by Arthur Bremer, which chronicle an attempt on a politician's life from the point of view of the killer. Gabriel conveys this theme well, so that you don't have to have read the book to know what is going on. In the climax, the whole thing shrinks down, so that it is just Gabriel and piano as at the start. He croaks lines about a lonely childhood with a gifted honesty which made <span style="font-style: italic;">Us </span>(1992, #39) so wonderful. It is a magical track which was well ahead of its time.<br /><br />'And Through The Wire' relies more on rhythm than on lyrics, meaning that it cannot match the previous two tracks for quality. On the other hand, this is more catchy and pulsating than 'Family Snapshot', with its solid refrain and call-and-answer of <span style="font-style: italic;">I want you</span>. Where previous tracks were led by drums or keyboards, here you do notice the guitar more. Dave Gregory provides a jagged rhythm part which brings out the chorus, giving it more life. You still notice the drums - Jerry Marotta is not the most understated player of the skins - but this feels more rounded than we have become used to.<br /><br />The classic mid-album dip arrives on the next two tracks, long overdue. 'Games Without Frontiers' feels like it was written as a quick single, rather than to compliment the feel of the album. It is also the second track to feature Kate Bush, but while on 'No Self-Control' she provided a safety valve, here she sounds inane and superfluous. The result is that the rest of the otherwise passable music is fatally compromised. This in turn makes Gabriel's lyrics hamfisted, and when you are writing about war that is the last thing you want to happen.<br /><br />'Not One Of Us', on the other hand, has a much more simple problem - it's too damn long. This could have been a good track, if the twisted effects at the start had been put to better use and condensed. Instead, they have the effect of stretching this song beyond the normal realms of patience, so that you are put off even before you get to the tedious chorus.<br /><br />To get this album back on track, we need a good'un. And that is exactly what we get, in the shape of 'Live A Normal Life'. This makes no bones about being stripped-out and quietened-down for the sake of refocussing the listener. The piano sounds buoyant and the percussion is esoteric, but the dark underbelly is still there, albeit in the distance and muffled beneath effects. When Gabriel finally comes to the surface for air, he doesn't make all that much sense, but he does enough for you to give him another chance.<br /><br />He doesn't disappoint. We close with 'Biko', one of Gabriel's first songs about human rights; the subject is anti-Apartheid activist Stephen Biko, who was brutally murdered by his interrogators in September 1977. Although it begins with some placid African singing, soon the track goes a lot more Western, the drums are shorter and Gabriel takes control. This is the longest track on here, at 7:33 long, but he has more than enough to say on the subject to sustain your interest. His lyrics are potent and charged, but he sings them with an air of calm defiance:<br /><br /><em>You can blow out a candle<br />But you can't blow out a fire<br />Once the flames begin to catch<br />The wind will blow it higher<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span></span></em>All the ingredients of this album come together properly on this track, making it a good closer. And while the ending is a little messianic, this is a lot less patronising that other such efforts of the 1980s (including that of a certain Mr. Geldof).<br /><br />Peter Gabriel albums are rarely the place to look if you want consistency. There is always a lot of experimentation and tinkering going on, exemplified by the gaps between albums as his career progressed. But where other albums could feel like a bag of random bolts, <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span><em>Peter Gabriel 3</em> sounds like a well-oiled machine. It feels more unified and together than anything Gabriel has put out before or since (with the possible exception of <span style="font-style: italic;">Up </span>(2002, #22)). But magically, it manages to feel as collected and strong as it does without coming across as cynically calculated. There is almost no filler here to pad out the themes - because it just isn't needed. And while you do get a couple of less than brilliant tracks, they are not outright howlers. If <span style="font-style: italic;">Peter Gabriel 1, 2 </span>and <span style="font-style: italic;">4 </span>(1982, #80) are records which you listen to in small chunks, <span style="font-style: italic;">Peter Gabriel 3 </span>is an album you can easily listen to all the way through without getting bored or irritated. It is a feast for the senses, a classic in its time and in ours.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">4.00 out of 5<br /></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-11009596859915693062008-08-20T20:40:00.012+01:002008-11-20T12:06:57.725+00:00Top 100 Albums - #22: Up (2002)Peter Gabriel's penultimate chart entry is <span style="font-style: italic;">Up</span>, the long-awaited follow-up to <span style="font-style: italic;">Us </span>(1992, #39).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQbiCj92qBI69SkvtMZBkrj5LAX20DneiGwUmKwBJspTn-4KMDS5jk2sU-hYnAEkH9QROkUQB9w7GOo1sraa8zeFVeuHit9ERxPwQ_WV7EjPrsQirD-JtyR43Ynd6lywKWr_U__C3YXTHe/s1600-h/Up.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQbiCj92qBI69SkvtMZBkrj5LAX20DneiGwUmKwBJspTn-4KMDS5jk2sU-hYnAEkH9QROkUQB9w7GOo1sraa8zeFVeuHit9ERxPwQ_WV7EjPrsQirD-JtyR43Ynd6lywKWr_U__C3YXTHe/s320/Up.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236687495414480722" border="0" /></a>After the release of <span style="font-style: italic;">Us </span>in September 1992, Gabriel embarked on a massively successful world tour, captured on the album <span style="font-style: italic;">Secret World Live </span>(1994) and on the subsequent DVD. The tour featured a menagerie of the most highly skilled musicians, from long-time collaborators Tony Levin and David Rhodes to newcomer Paula Cole, whose performances helped to kick-start her solo career. Gabriel spent the next few years tying up the loose ends of the tour while beginning the recordings for what would become <span style="font-style: italic;">Big Blue Ball </span>(2008), a multi-national collaboration headed up with Karl Wallinger. In 1997, he embarked on a project for the Millennium Dome, to design a show and compose the music for the celebrations on New Year's Eve, 1999. The project, which ran through two years, eventually produced <span style="font-style: italic;">OVO </span>(2000, #81). In 2002 he composed <span style="font-style: italic;">Long Walk Home</span>, the soundtrack for the award-winning film <span style="font-style: italic;">Rabbit-Proof Fence</span>, about the plight of Australian aborigines.<br /><br />A good opener should always make the mood of the album clear, and 'Darkness' achieves it in spades. For the first 30 seconds it is tentative, obsessive and scarily quiet; you know that something else is coming, but you also begin to relax. Then the whole mix explodes in front of your eyes. Rhodes' guitar is angry and distorted, Manu Katche's drums are ferocious, and the whole experience sends adrenaline rushing through your veins. Gabriel, meanwhile, sits in the eye of the storm, reciting the lyrics like a poem while his voice is altered as he sees fit. This does make it harder to understand first time out, but after a while you don't really notice.<br /><br />'Growing Up' is a lot less in-your-face - which comes as a relief - but is hardly worse off where substance is concerned. The deep cello at the start reminds you that we are still dealing with the tragic side of the human condition. While the single version contained on <span style="font-style: italic;">Hit </span>(2003, #72) could have passed for punchy, this is more meticulous and drawn out. It may have a faster beat, but there is a lot more going on; it entices you, it tempts you, but you still have to make your own way in. Gabriel's lyrics are more arty than his mid-80s commercial period. Indeed, the bridge would not have been out of place on <span style="font-style: italic;"></span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Foxtrot </span>(1972):<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Well, on the floor, there's a long wooden table<br />On the table, there's an open book<br />On the page, is a detailed drawing<br />And on the drawing is the name I took<br /><br /></span>If sources are to believed, 'Sky Blue' took <span style="font-style: italic;">twenty years</span> to complete. And yet, at first glance, it is suspiciously familiar. Fans who bought <span style="font-style: italic;">Long Walk Home </span>will be quick to spot the similarities with 'Cloudless' from that album - the almost identical riffs, The Blind Boys of Alabama on backing vocals, and the spacious, pathos-riddled production. On closer inspection, however, this is not just Peter repeating himself. By adding in some electronic paraphernalia at the start, and a decent set of lyrics, he has taken the best elements of a distinctly average track and made them into what they should always have been.<br /><br />'No Way Out' begins - after a while - with one of the best guitar riffs recorded in the last 10 years. Rhodes plays the four-measure phrase on his Fender Strat with a unique, sinister menace; the reverb is so great and deep that it sound like a bass, and that makes it frightening. This pulsating riff is counterpointed by the fingertippy piano of Gabriel and Levin's funky but unimposing bass. This is the first track to deal solely with death, and it wins the first battle by setting a bleak mood. Gabriel then pulls off a neat second trick with a set of lyrics which stand at an odd angle but eventually become clear. He peruses over the second verse - and the subject of goldfish - as if he is in mourning for a lost friend. Couple all this with the repeating emotion plea - <span style="font-style: italic;">I'm not quitting on you</span> - and you have one of the best songs he has crafted in a long time.<br /><br />'I Grieve' is often believed to have been written as a response to the 9/11 attacks. Although I stated this in an earlier blog entry, this is actually a myth, since the song was written and completed in its present form as far back as 1998 (I apologise). Despite this, you do sense that Gabriel is singing these words with his loved ones in mind. Just as his elder daughter Anna was the subject of 'Come Talk To Me' on <span style="font-style: italic;">Us</span>, so he could easily be singing this about his younger daughter, Melanie. In any case, he is certainly using this track as a means of silencing critics who were saying that his voice had withered in the intervening years. It has certainly changed, but he can still get upstairs when he needs to and sound bloody amazing in the process.<br /><br />For 'The Barry Williams Show', however, the words we're looking for are 'bloody stupid'. The whole thing, from start to finish, feels ham-fisted, outdated, corny and sometimes downright embarrassing. This is a case of Gabriel trying to prove that he is still cool, can still keep up with the kids of today. That is a grave error since: (a) they probably don't want to know; and (b) Gabriel's commercial success was never premeditated or packaged - that's what made it so compelling then, and now. This feels fake, really fake - fake enough to make you reach for the off switch and despair that someone of his stature could have sunk so low.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">If, on the other hand, you have the patience of a saint (or a album blogger), you will still be around for when the album gets back on track. 'My Head Sounds Like That' is a welcome return or retreat to introspective mood pieces, packed from end to end with solemn soundscapes and dolorous piano. This time we get the Black Dyke Band as well; they lit up <span style="font-style: italic;">OVO </span>and they achieve the same effect here. The tempo may be ponderous, but this is compensated for by Gabriel's performance. He takes the cryptic style of lyrics, as on 'Lay Your Hands On Me', and then strains his vocal chords to shift the piece up a gear (see my review of <span style="font-style: italic;">Peter Gabriel 4 </span>(1982, #80). The break is especially good, as the sounds and words mash together and start messing with your mind.<br /><br /></div>'More Than This' is the most upbeat we get on <span style="font-style: italic;">Up</span>. Which is a shame, because whether as an album track or as a single, this is <em></em>not a good song. This is an example Peter is trying too hard - not to be cool, as before, but to be interesting. There are some lovely touches: the opening riff isn't all that bad, and Rhodes' bright phrase at 0:56 could really have gone somewhere in the region of 'Solsbury Hill'. But there is so many little motifs like these going on, that it ends up as a chaotic, incoherent flop.<br /><br />'Signal To Noise' soon puts that to rights - and some. The distinctive dropping drum in the first few seconds, along with the atmospheric violins, make you realise that this is going to be something special. Gabriel begins the first verse in a downbeat, jazzy sneer, and then goes into a full-blown scream with only the deep strings to keep him tied down. Throughout this wondrous track, you can sense him wanting to break free, wanting to snap and speak his mind. But every time he is trapped by this rich, tantalising vapour of noise, where it be electronic tics, reverberated drums or the solo performance of the late Nusrah Fateh Ali Khan. In the final third of your song, your tried patience is melded with paranoia and fear as the track rises, and rises, and rises. Only now, with both singer and listener at a critical level, does the whole thing explode, blossoming into a frenzied and terrifying finish, with violins duelling Dhol drums and Gabriel in the centre screaming <em>Receive and transmit! </em>You come away completely blown apart, having heard the best and scariest track on the album.<br /><br />'The Drop' is the closer, and it's just as well that it's a solemn, quiet affair. With only a piano on his person, Gabriel half-croons, half-whispers this song about flying and the brevity of life. You picture yourself either in an aeroplane, looking down on city lights, or else lying on a bed surrounded by naked lights, steadily dimming until the silence becomes complete. The lyrics, brief as they are, dwell deep inside your head; you will be thinking about them for days until their personal meaning becomes clear.<br /><br />For an album about death and the bleak nature of life, <span style="font-style: italic;">Up </span>is not exactly a hackneyed suicide note or the musings of a sad old man. It's hardly Gabriel's most optimistic work, and so fans of his more commercial stuff will be unpleasantly surprised. For those, on the other hand, who like an album to slowly unwind and reveal itself according to how much attention you give it, this is an inspired work. Like <span style="font-style: italic;">Us</span>, you will hear something new and interesting every time you play it, either all the way through or by sampling its component parts. Unfortunately, there are odd moments where Gabriel goes too far in his introspection, or where he forgets that what made him successful was the quality of his songs rather than any desire to be famous. But while <span style="font-style: italic;">Us</span> occassionally flattered you with reassuring songs, <span style="font-style: italic;">Up </span>is always egging you on, always pushing you deeper and further into the dark areas of your soul. It may take longer to fathom, it may even drive you round the twist - but you emerge at the other end more complete, more inspired, and more fulfilled.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">4.00 out of 5<br /></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-57731329572247943032008-08-20T19:59:00.012+01:002008-11-20T12:07:54.182+00:00Top 100 Albums - #23: The Dark Side Of The Moon (1973)Pink Floyd's fourth entry on the chart is <span style="font-style: italic;">The Dark Side Of The Moon</span>, their critical and commercial breakthrough which has so far sold in excess of 40 million copies.¹<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirSHOie_G9a30c7WJD1-y6YnlxaAUX53ei1SYwpxQc-VAYqJE6aD-ZATpe7auJB4SnZNcnNwypC_HPBPOfeqcma6iyxHkfYCsGJVjamC29jUKwPNPuMK9B8iScA27b6Y8C3H4uLjDYC8Z2/s1600-h/The+Dark+Side+Of+The+Moon.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirSHOie_G9a30c7WJD1-y6YnlxaAUX53ei1SYwpxQc-VAYqJE6aD-ZATpe7auJB4SnZNcnNwypC_HPBPOfeqcma6iyxHkfYCsGJVjamC29jUKwPNPuMK9B8iScA27b6Y8C3H4uLjDYC8Z2/s320/The+Dark+Side+Of+The+Moon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236685797605572930" border="0" /></a>Following the departure of Syd Barrett in April 1968, the Floyd entered a period of experimentation and extended pieces, as they struggled to find a new sound. The first post-Barrett album, <span style="font-style: italic;">A Saucerful Of Secrets </span>(1968), contained only one of his compositions ('Jugband Blues') and was poorly received compared to its predecessor. Now settling into life as a fourpiece, the band spent 1969 creating the soundtrack to Barbet Schroeder's <span style="font-style: italic;">More </span>and touring in support of their double album <span style="font-style: italic;">Ummagumma</span>. This and the follow-up, <span style="font-style: italic;">Atom Heart Mother </span>(1970), kept the band in the limelight, the latter being an ornate and overambitious recording employing a full orchestra and conceptual composer Ron Geesin. It became their first No. 1 album in Britain, but has since savaged by the band. Finally, on <span style="font-style: italic;">Meddle</span> (1971), the Pink Floyd sound began to coalesce together, and the fans agreed, heralding the 23-minute 'Echoes' as a masterpiece. After the release of <span style="font-style: italic;">Obscured By Clouds </span>(1972) - another Barbet Schroeder commission - the band were poised to take the world by storm.<br /><br />Anyone who is even faintly familiar with this album, or the mythology surrounding it, cannot help but feel a strange sensation upon starting it. After a few seconds of agonising, despairing silence, the famous 'heartbeats' kick in and we creep slowly forwards into 'Speak To Me/ Breathe'. The first minute is a sound montage, sampling all the sounds which would become motifs of the album, including the first of the famous 'voices' (<span style="font-style: italic;">I've been mad for fucking years</span> and all that). When 'Breathe' eventually begins, we are exploded out of this madness into a calming, reassuring groove which sees all four instruments working in harmony. Nick Mason keeps the beat simply and solidly, while Roger Waters' bass strums appositely, providing the harmony part for David Gilmour's wailing lap steel. The lyrics serve to delicately introduce the album's purpose, as "an expression of political, philosphical and humanitarian empathy that was desperate to get out".²<br /><br />With 'On The Run', our pulses are send racing as the mood shifts from one of philosopical balm to deeply seated fear. The song is anchored by the throbbing, distorted synthesiser beat, sampled and sped up. It pulses through the mix like some strange being, whom you are always aware of but is always just out of sight. The voice of a female announcer mumbles around you as footsteps resound and vehicles <span style="font-style: italic;">doppler </span>shift their way across your subconscious. The song was inspired by the band's fear of flying, caused by relentless touring. And sure enough, by the time the aeroplane crashes at the end of the track, your own heartbeat has quickened, you feel frightened, and you begin to understand the album's message - that it's okay, it's natural, it's human to feel this way.<br /><br />'Time' begins ominously. If you allow yourself to drift into a state of rest, having escaped your fate, your bliss is brutally shattered by the chiming of the clocks. It may have been shamefully parodied on 'One Slip' later in the Floyd's career (see my review of <span style="font-style: italic;">A Momentary Lapse Of Reason </span>(1987, #62), but here it serves its purpose beautifully, creating a delicate, edgy feeling in the listener into which the band can express their feelings. Once Mason has had his minute-and-a-half of freedom, the whole pieces takes on a life of its own. Waters' lyrics about the passage of time and the feeling of being lost in life are beautifully delivered; Gilmour takes the stricken verses, while Rick Wright blends beautifully with the female singers, delivering the killer line <span style="font-style: italic;">Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way</span> with all its inate English charm.<br /><br />We stick with Wright for the next track, 'The Great Gig In The Sky'. It is a testimony to his abilities that, in a piece packed with beautiful lap steel and <span style="font-style: italic;">that </span>vocal solo from Clare Torry, for the first minute at least you only want to listen to him. He doesn't play the grand piano, so much as stroke it with a series of feathers, ending up with something bittersweet, something graceful - something wonderful. When Torry finally comes in, your concentration does shift, but you are always aware of Wright's organs underneath her. It is as though you are drowning in a sea of sound, and she is the siren mourning your loss. No-one has ever matched her performance live, and on record it remains frighteningly beautiful.<br /><br />'Money' probably ranks as one of the greatest songs of the 1970s. It is certainly one of the most original and unusual hits, with its unwieldy 7/8 time signature and equally unwieldy length. The opening, with the cash register, tape loops and fabulous bass line, is of course well-known and loved. But there is so much more to it than that. The band sound tight and together across this album, but this takes unity to a new level. There is no excess fat here at all - no drawn-out guitar solos, no overly clever drum fills, no John Entwistle-style bass noodling. Instead, what we get is four musicians playing off each other tone-perfectly, coming and going at the right time without a second's argument or hesitation. Even a seasoned stoic cannot help but be enslaved by the rhythm Waters creates and Mason exemplifies. The saxaphone solo is brilliant, the change in time signature is the very definition of seamless, and the lyrics are simple but sensationally clever, conveying so much by saying so little:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Money, it's a crime<br />Share it fairly<br />But don't take a slice of my pie<br />Money, so they say<br />Is the root of all evil today<br />But if you ask for a rise<br />It's no surprise<br />That they're giving none away</span><br /><br />This is not just the best track on the album; it's arguably one of the greatest tracks of all time.<br /><br />After railing against materialism, Waters turns his attention to war, as he would often do in his career. 'Us And Them' is more jazzy and nuanced than 'Money', which isn't really suprising when we discover that Wright is behind this one as well. Like so much of the group's compositions for the album, the finished result was almost an accident. Wright composed a similar piece for the film <span style="font-style: italic;">Zabriskie Point </span>(1970), but it was rejected, shelved and then rediscovered during the recording. The piece rolls along gently, creating a summery feel which lulls you into a false sense of security wherein the lyrics can pounce. Mason's drums serve more as a garnish than an anchor, as Wright delivers that magical 'third chord' - a DmM7 - which sets the piece apart. Waters' lyrics are again deceptively simple, but they get the grey cells going so that everyone can find something different in lines like <span style="font-style: italic;">With, without/ And who'll deny it's what the fighting's all about</span>?<span style="font-style: italic;">.<br /><br /></span>Out of all the tracks on the album, 'Any Colour You Like' is easily the hardest to like. It's not terrible in the traditional sense, and in many ways it's very listenable. But it has the feeling of the band treading water, taking their foot off the pedals and freewheeling while Waters was thinking of something else to say. This has the feel of 'The Travel Sequence', a jam from their live shows which was eventually replaced with 'On The Run'. Like the jam, this feels aimless - there are no lyrics (which is not a problem in itself) but there is little in the way of melody even to reflect the title (a reference to the erroneous words of Henry Ford, "you can have it any colour you like, as long as it's black").<br /><br />'Brain Damage' is a return to form, or at least to some kind of unified message. As with so much of Pink Floyd's work, the spectre of Syd is hovering over this: the opening lines, <span style="font-style: italic;">The lunatic is on the grass</span>, are both a chilling reminder of his fate and a tirade against conformity. Waters sings for the first time on the album, and his unique voice suits this piece better than Gilmour's or Wright's. Although he had sung on previous Floyd songs - like 'Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun' - he sounds more professional here. More confident as well. This song begins to tie up the themes of the album, returning to some form of empathy and reassurance after ranting against the 'virtues' of the world - and of course, introducing the mystical image of <span style="font-style: italic;">the dark side of the moon </span>as a place of refuge for those who don't quite fit in with what the world expects of them.<br /><br />'Eclipse' serves as a natural, favourably formed coda to close the album. The lyrics are one long list of reassurances from Waters about the human condition, again seeming to say: It's okay to feel this way. Musically, it sees the climax and coming together of all the ingredients for one last assault on the senses. It rises and rises more and more, becoming richer and brighter all the time until the final shimmering organ chord from Wright brings things slowly to an end. Soon the heartbeats start up again, the music fades out, and we are left with the immortal words of Abbey Road doorman Gerry O'Driscoll: "There is no dark side of the moon, really. Matter of fact it's all dark".<br /><br />Writing about <span style="font-style: italic;">The Dark Side Of The Moon</span> is a frustrating experience. There is almost nothing which can be said about it which is new, interesting or enlightening. Many claims made about it are becoming less and less contentious: <span style="font-style: italic;">it is</span> one of the greatest albums of all time, in terms of sales and critical reception. <span style="font-style: italic;">It is</span> a hugely significant cultural and musical milestone. <span style="font-style: italic;">It is</span> a masterpiece of production. <span style="font-style: italic;">It is</span>, in many ways, the epitome of Pink Floyd, with all four members working together and coming through with the goods. But one thing it is <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> is the greatest Floyd album. All the components of a great record are here, and the end result is a sumptuous delight, a thought-provoking, soul-searching three-quarters of an hour wrapped up in the language of arty pop songs. But as we shall soon discover, subsequent Floyd efforts took this formula further, consolidating and developing it into something equally memorable. Hence the best way to view <span style="font-style: italic;">The Dark Side Of The Moon</span> is both as a milestone in its own right, and - more importantly - the foundation for every single one of the Floyd's subsequent creations.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">4.00 out of 5<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">References</span><br />¹ Bill Werde, 'Floyd's 'Dark Side' Celebrates Chart Milestone' (May 5 2006), http://www.billboard.com/bbcom/news/article_display.jsp?vnu_content_id=1002463719. Accessed on August 20 2008.<span><br /></span>² 'The Making of The Dark Side Of The Moon Part 1', <span>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jtj8she1mgg. Accessed on September 21 2008.</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-75288032366227060872008-08-20T18:54:00.014+01:002008-11-20T12:10:07.647+00:00Top 100 Albums - #24: Mind How You Go (2006)At number 24 is <span style="font-style: italic;">Mind How You Go</span>, the debut solo album from Skye Edwards, ex-singer with Morcheeba.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0mDP0Bggy7GtpDClVDe64AwahMQ_1tYvqbi6YrFTpmp4747A7BeJdoTPMJq5Hex2vgEaPNWfGwdrrp9Lw1zYOMnGrvQVR4v-oc_5jWL2bA_E7etDZcqOotpA4Z-2VQR1WryZI8s1h-nNq/s1600-h/Mind+How+You+Go.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0mDP0Bggy7GtpDClVDe64AwahMQ_1tYvqbi6YrFTpmp4747A7BeJdoTPMJq5Hex2vgEaPNWfGwdrrp9Lw1zYOMnGrvQVR4v-oc_5jWL2bA_E7etDZcqOotpA4Z-2VQR1WryZI8s1h-nNq/s320/Mind+How+You+Go.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236661014023776642" border="0" /></a>Shirley Klarisse Yonavive Edwards, better known to the world as Skye, was born in London in 1974. After leaving school, she worked as a session singer before being recruited by The Godfrey Brothers (Ross and Paul). The resulting band would become Morcheeba, with this line-up producing four albums - the tentative and mysterious <span style="font-style: italic;">Who Can You Trust? </span>(1996); the critically acclaimed, chilled-out <span style="font-style: italic;">Big Calm </span>(1998, #54); the bright, poppy <span style="font-style: italic;">Fragments Of Freedom </span>(2000); and the well-rounded, collected <span style="font-style: italic;">Charango </span>(2002). On all four recordings Skye received plaudits for her voice, and in-between she appeared on the all-star re-recording of Lou Reed's 'Perfect Day' for Children in Need in 1997. After the release of the <span style="font-style: italic;">Parts Of The Process </span>compilation in 2003, Skye was asked to leave Morcheeba because of increasing musical differences between the trio. She spent the next two years raising her first child and began to collaborate with producer Gary Clark.<br /><br />We begin this little-known album with 'Love Show'. All at once, it isn't hard to spot the change in sound from the Morcheeba days. The riffs are lighter, the production more spacious, and the mood a lot more relaxed. Skye's voice has changed as well: all the dark, smoky feel present on <span style="font-style: italic;">Big Calm</span> has gone, and instead she comes across as much happier, more innocent, more content. You could almost call it fluffy. Don't think, though, that all that made Morcheeba great has been lost - the deep bass and fake drums remain, making this track a very skillful, subltle opener. It's hardly the most substantial song ever made, but as a means of introducing this new Skye, there is little on which we can fault it.<br /><br />'Stop Complaining' keeps the mood up and the tempo down. This time the piano provides the backing to Skye's new-found cheeriness. But unlike a lot of similar singers, her happiness does not come across as vacuous or fake. Skye has never needed a gimmick to sell records - her voice managed that quite well, and it's much the same here. If anyone else sang the chorus - <span style="font-style: italic;">You're here and I'm here/ So I stop complaining/ It could be raining/ And I see the answer's in your eyes</span> - they would be booed off stage and dismissed as a three-a-penny no-hit wonder. But with Skye, you are carried on a warm wave of satisfaction which leaves you unwilling to criticise it.<br /><br />'Solitary' presents a different side of Skye. Here she is more doubtful, more ponderous of her position. Indeed the lyrics could be reflective of her relationship with her former bandmates - <span style="font-style: italic;">You said the things you said/ And you twisted me up</span>, for instance. Sticking with the lyrics, they do try to be too clever, too full of imagery to pass muster completely. But the chorus is enough to rescue it, ringing out serenely amid the unobtrusive percussion. This is at heart a chillout sound, and a pretty damn good one at that.<br /><br />Since 'Solitary' and 'Calling' are exactly the same length (4:16 long) you could be forgiven for assuming that the latter is a carbon copy, and just skip over it. I would advise against this, however, since this is another very good song. Skye is pushing her voice harder on this one, melding it with the acoustic on the verses and then fighting feistily against the drums on the chorus. The drums, incidentally, do soundstrange, like the skins are being played with table tennis equipment (listen to the cross-stick snare on the verse to see what I mean).<br /><br />So far, we have been soothed and we have been entertained, but there have only been hints of any distinctive direction. 'What's Wrong With Me' is the first track where we start to get an idea of where Skye is taking us. Suffice to say, it's a very pleasing direction. The looped, distorted opening is a wonderful pastiche of the dark, throbbing effects we saw on <span style="font-style: italic;">Who Can You Trust?</span>, set against a lovely, yearning series of chords on electric guitar. Skye meanwhile sings as she did in her Morcheeba prime - with a seductive sweetness, which chills you completely and teases you at the same time. This is certainly evident in the way she gently breathes the chorus, and it is exactly what we expect from her. The percussion is kept simple, with quiet electronic drums and hardly any bass, which is just as well since the whole mood would have been runined by some Fender Precision noodling. This is 4-and-a-bit minutes of utterly serene, thoroughly beautiful and surprisingly catchy singer-songwriting. And the rarity of such a thing these days is more than enough to merit its place on the album.<br /><br />Unfortunately, having laid out a template for success, Skye chooses to ignore it on the next track. 'No Other' tries too hard to be emotional and heartfelt, and as a result ends up as the exact opposite. There is not enough variation in the chords she has created to make the music all that compelling, and her ill-fated attempts at some Roy LaMontaigne-style howling of the higher notes just doesn't scan. 'Tell Me About Your Day' is better, introducing a silky oboe into the mix. Once again Skye is in the foreground of production; there are more drums this time around but they are squashed and pushed way, way back to give the singer more room. The fact that she doesn't really need it leads you to be surprised by how quiet she sounds. This in turn makes you listen more intently - and then the lyrics begin to bring a smile to your face.<br /><br />'All The Promises', sadly, is more humdrum. As on the last track, Skye is quiet, but unlike before there is almost nothing to fill the gaps around her and drive the track forwards. There is acoustic, but for the most part it is ineffective. For the first 50 seconds, this comes across as a poor relation, or parody, of 'Over & Over'. And even when the drums do come in, on the chorus about a minute in, they are too tinny and restricted to add much life.<br /><br />Thank heavens, then, for 'Powerful'. The intro is a dream, with wonderful descant strings soaring through our ears while being counterpointed with the simple, lilting guitar part. Skye sings heavenly, still sounding fresh and interesting but utilising a lot of the old tricks she picked up from the earlier stages of her career. The opening lines, <span style="font-style: italic;">Then we both went home/ On separate trains</span> are reminiscent of her performance on the Children in Need record, and she delivers the excellent chorus with the same upbeat teasing that made <span style="font-style: italic;">Fragments Of Freedom </span>so enjoyable. This is a much better effort lyrically than a lot of stuff on here - one could even say that it makes 'What's Wrong With Me' seem lazy in comparison. It all just feels so tight, focussed and together, while maintaining a large amount of lustre. It's like a jazz song, elementally. It may have a time signature, but that does not serve as a self-imposed limit on where the piece can be taken, like it so often does in rock. This is magical.<br /><br />The final two songs are quieter, more composed and less ethereal than 'Powerful', but they are still impressive in their own way. 'Say Amen' may have a more trip-hop intro, but the melody is closer to soul and is in no way sterile. For the first 2 minutes this has a sound collage feel to it, with the vocals carrying all the melody and little behind it for support. But at 2:16 a drum machine comes in, moving ahead of the tempo and hurrying the whole thing along. This creates an interesting feel which suits Skye's more urgent phrases. 'Jamaica Days', meanwhile, is a fitting eulogy to her Carribean heritage. It's the shortest track, at 2:16, but you do get Skye all to herself. There are no instruments, so there is nothing to distract you from the serenity and beauty of her voice - different, but still beautiful.<br /><br />To the untrained ear, or non-Morcheeba fans, <span style="font-style: italic;">Mind How You Go</span> can come across badly. With its largely ballad-esque content and soft, laid-back acoustic feel, many will simply disgard it, branding it alongside the efforts of Marc Cohn and Damien Rice - pleasant on the surface, but with little distinctive underneath. While that criticism may well be levelled at Messrs. Cohn and Rice, with Skye it is a different story. Morcheeba fans will obviously pick up on the motifs and techniques contained herein, but even if you come to this record a complete stranger to their sound then you will find something you like very easily. This album is like an Eddi Reader record, insofar as you get a lot of similar songs which chill you out, make you feel good and reveal different little touches to whoever is listening. But you also get a sweetness, a crisp, organic sweetness which Reader's material, along with many others, is lacking. Yes, this is not the deepest, most substantial record ever made, but it is a worthy start for solo Skye, providing hope that her second album will be even better.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">4.00 out of 5<br /></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-86260696177332484412008-08-20T18:07:00.008+01:002008-11-20T12:12:02.376+00:00Top 100 Albums - #25: All That You Can't Leave Behind (2000)U2's fifth and final entry on the chart is <span style="font-style: italic;">All That You Can't Leave Behind</span>, widely seen as a return to critical and commercial success after the poor reception of <span style="font-style: italic;">Pop </span>(1997).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGzcisnAtiLH3exPublefZHNazZ6rP1tSaR9G68TDth4-SeyVDJ8XCV2KMFokJ10MSe4Ck3lHHOO_a4OR2zAslQVFu58FxDMIdeATGukG6gYePoe3Iy_oG7jAQd-vMW3lUy380D0VVF2vj/s1600-h/All+That+You+Can%27t+Leave+Behind.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGzcisnAtiLH3exPublefZHNazZ6rP1tSaR9G68TDth4-SeyVDJ8XCV2KMFokJ10MSe4Ck3lHHOO_a4OR2zAslQVFu58FxDMIdeATGukG6gYePoe3Iy_oG7jAQd-vMW3lUy380D0VVF2vj/s320/All+That+You+Can%27t+Leave+Behind.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236648385861245714" border="0" /></a>While both <span style="font-style: italic;">Achtung Baby </span>(1991) and <span style="font-style: italic;">Zooropa </span>(1993) had won U2 new audiences and critical acclaim, as the 1990s wore on their new image began to turn on them. In 1995, following the end of the Zoo TV Tour, the band collaborated with Brian Eno on <span style="font-style: italic;">Original Soundtracks 1 </span>(1995), a mostly instrumental album of songs for imaginary films. Released under the band name Passengers, the album was spurned by both fans and drummer Larry Mullen Jr., who worried that the band were becoming self-indulgent. These feelings were exacerbated by <span style="font-style: italic;">Pop</span>, an album recorded at breakneck speed because of the pre-arranged tour. Despite being dark and political in places, the album received mixed reception from critics and the cold shoulder from many fans. Following the release of compilation <span style="font-style: italic;">The Best of 1980-1990 </span>(1998), the band returned to the studio in a desperate bid to reinvent itself, just as it had done ten years before.<br /><br />We begin, of course, with 'Beautiful Day'. It may been merecilessly overplayed on ITV, and reduced to the relative banality of a football theme tune, but this is a still an amazing song. The oscillating keyboards and bass drum are a great way to introduce this new U2 - combining the best from the heavy rock of the 1980s and the more electronic touches of the 1990s. Bono's voice is weaker than it was on, say, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Joshua Tree</span> (1987), but he still wipes the floor with just about every other forty-something rocker on the planet. If anything, the lack of his once-trademark falsetto - for the most part - allows you to discover a new, more pleasant side of him, a side you thought had been lost long ago. The band as a unit feel tight, together and thoroughly modern. They have their pulse on the sound of the day, but still create something new and defining. This gets better every time you hear it, it's a sheer belter.<br /><br />I have been unkind about the next track before. In my review of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Best of 1990-2000 </span>(2002, #43), I attacked 'Stuck In A Moment You Can't Get Out Of', describing it as a bizarre cross between pop rock and lounge music. Some of that is still very true - Bono's lyrics are not his best, fulfilling his own words that <span style="font-style: italic;">There's nothing you can throw at me/ That I haven't already heard</span>. But somehow, in the context of the album as a whole, this comes across a lot better. Being only the second track, we are still getting used to the new sound, and so there are bound to be little things we don't like even in the best tracks.<br /><br />'Elevation' needs no such excuses, though. It may begin with the e-piano pootlings of a five-year-old, but The Edge's riffs are jagged and distorted, filled with a new metallic potency. Bono begins annoyingly, but soon he settles down into a very bizarre set of lyrics which push the boundaries of what it acceptable as rhyme without being cheesy. It's a proper rock single - not the most substancial thing in the world, but still a great listen. The most interesting section is the bridge - Bono's voice is electronically altered, not something he would have normally allowed.<br /><br />With 'Walk On', we downstage slightly in terms of subject and take a more spiritual approach. The song provides us with the album's title and is dedicated to Burmese peace activist and 'prisoner of conscience' Aung San Suu Kyi. This does feel more like traditional U2, with The Edge soaring on the choruses on his highly strung Strat and Mullen playing more crisply than on previous songs. The lyrics achieve the rare feat of being both political and spiritual without sounding twisted or compromised. We get our fair share of both in the second verse:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">You're packing a suitcase for a place<br />None of us has been<br />A place that has to be believed<br />To be seen<br />You could have flown away<br />A singing bird in an open cage<br />Who will only fly, only fly<br />For freedom<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span>From this point of view, this is one of the band's finest achievements - though not as fine as 'Kite'. This is a complete heartwrencher, designed to move you beyond what you consider possible. The violins in the opening section are beautifully orchestrated, and The Edge is at the top of his game on slide guitar. Mullen keeps the drumming economical but effective, perhaps conscious that this is Bono's song. The meanings of the lyrics are many and varied, including that of a father letting his children out into the world, lovers getting over a failed relationship, and a eulogy of sorts to Bono's father, Bob Hewson, who passed away during the Elevation<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>tour in 2001. Whichever of these you choose to believe, it is impossible to deny the emotional power of this track, summed up in Bono's breathtaking (and breathless) performance on vocals, his most emotive and exceptional to date. This is a song which you will listen to sparingly, so that you can savour its every perfection; in return, it will always, always, bring you to tears.<br /><br />After what can only be described as a phenomenal start, the band drop the ball on the next two tracks. 'In A Little While' is about the much less attractive subject of a hangover, picking up the drunk song baton from 'Tryin' To Throw Your Arms Around The World' (from <span style="font-style: italic;">Achtung Baby</span>). This is U2 trying to be funky, incorporating the open hi-hat and scratching sound of hip-hop to create something which at its worst points is, frankly, embarrassing. 'Wild Honey' is equally disparate, beginning with some gut-wrenchingly tinny guitar, such as you would hear on a theatre student's demo tape. And while the chorus might have something to it, it cannot in itself hold your attention for the length of the song. This means you will have to try and understand the verses, exposing yourself full on to the apogee of modern tweeness.<br /><br />We get back on track with 'Peace On Earth'. Despite the daunting title, this is actually indicative of the relationship between Bono and the rest of the band at its best. Just as on 'October', the other members, especially The Edge, have tied Bono to the ground, stopped his head swelling up and forced him to deliver an honest performance. The result is a very real, pleaful and lifting piece (see my review of <span style="font-style: italic;">October </span>(1981, #87)). The lyrics are very focussed and yet modest, with the digs being subtle and shrouded in principle, e.g. <span style="font-style: italic;">It's already gone too far/ They say that if you go in hard/ You won't get hurt</span>. <span style="font-style: italic;"></span>Then Jesus comes into the equation with no cheesy fanfare, and the honesty factor rises again.<br /><br />'When I Look At The World' is much in the same vein. We find a U2 more restrained, still potent but trying to reign themselves in to avoid looking like a bunch of rich ageing idiots. The lyrics should be relevant to anyone who has been a Christian for a long period of time. They describe deep-seated doubt, prompted by world events but rooted in questions about the very foundations of one's faith. When Bono sings the chorus, he is so stricken that you really do feel that he is wrestling with God:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">So I try to be like you<br />Try to feel it like you do<br />Growing up, but it's no use<br />I can't see what you see<br />When I look at the world<br /><br /></span>In the midst of all this soul-searching, The Edge keeps the song rolling along, providing some wonderfully crisp chords on a guitar which sounds like a wasp stuck in a steel pipe. Mullen uses his snare and ride cymbal well to create another dynamic rhythm, and as if by magic Adam Clayton's bass pops up at the most apposite moments, lifting the whole mix. The song concludes with the classic lines of the doubting Christian, <span style="font-style: italic;">Tell me, tell me/ What do you see?/ Tell me, tell me/ What's wrong with me?</span>.<br /><br />The last major slip-up on this great album is 'New York'. Until now, Messrs. Lanois and Eno had been on sensational form, but here they have taken a good mix and then made a hippo sit on it. As a result the drums, especially the hi-hat, sound tinny and overly funky - and worse still, it is impossible to hear Clayton al. With this in place, Bono may as well have not bothered. In the lower registers especially he sounds like a threepenny crooner. Even when the band kick the tail out at the end, it still sounds impotent.<br /><br />'Grace', on the other hand, is a gem. Clayton begins the song, with his double-tracked bass taking both the high and low rhythms while The Edge lays down a downbeat, chilled-out series of chords which make you close your eyes and picture a garden full of summer flowers. Despite being very long for a U2 song (a not-so-punchy 5:32), there is hardly any drag here. Bono may be singing in what feels like slow-motion, but he is not slow enough to try your patience to any great degree. Instead, he produces a worthy sequel to the likes of 'One', for this has all the sensitivity and great lyrics of that track, combined with a contemporary feel and much better production.<br /><br />We round up with 'The Ground Beneath Her Feet'. This is unusual in that it is one of the few songs in the U2 canon without Bono as lyricist. The words come from the pages of Sir Salman Rushdie, which is not hard to pick up on. This does have a more literary feel to it, much more arty and poetic than anything Bono could have created on his own<span style="font-style: italic;"></span>. Despite that, this is easily one of the most accessible songs on here, which is just as well when you consider how good this is. We have an ethereal slide guitar melody from The Edge, counterpointed by Bono's acoustic and captured like rain on a lake by Lanois. We have a vocal performance from Bono to rival anything he has produced thus far at his peak. And we have a finished product which sounds like both a rock song and a piece of orchestral soundtrack work. It is a fabulous way to finish.<br /><br />In many ways, <span style="font-style: italic;">All That You Can't Leave Behind </span>is like the Rolls Royce Phantom. First, you get the instant impression of quality everywhere you go, from the playing to the production - even the album cover looks like brushed aluminium. Then, when you step inside, you are made to feel as comfortable as humanly possible, cocooned in your own little world with nothing to distract you or disrupt the experience. Leaving the car analogy aside, this album offers you the best of everything U2 have served up thus far, but there is still enough variety among the tracks for you to choose your own favourites. The follow-up could do that too, but <span style="font-style: italic;">How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb </span>(2004, #82) suffered from trying to be too political and in doing so saw the band slip into self-parody. Here, though, <span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span>everything feels genuine, everything sounds new, and everything is worth savouring. It may be quieter and more understated than any U2 album since <span style="font-style: italic;">The Unforgettable Fire </span>(1984), but it is in this meticulous level of restraint and self-control that true beauty emerges, making this truly the Rolls Royce of U2 albums.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">4.00 out of 5<br /></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-50168984316340479512008-07-31T00:41:00.013+01:002008-11-20T12:13:16.803+00:00Top 100 Albums - #26: Once More With Feeling (2004)<span style="font-style: italic;">Once More With Feeling </span>is the only entry for alternative rockers Placebo. It is a singles compilation summarising the first eight years of their career.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPY77NHQs1iGFK10oy-e2MLLbosg6-DCdcNQjWEtSZrkpJS1mhzU0BA6Pq8dWKhbQgDmCtHPpqCRFk87HITqwafvuTkLsyzYxFc_HI8LwApSaeApIVmjAUacjVFQ8tSwSXadY6yHRiBox/s1600-h/Once+More+With+Feeling.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPY77NHQs1iGFK10oy-e2MLLbosg6-DCdcNQjWEtSZrkpJS1mhzU0BA6Pq8dWKhbQgDmCtHPpqCRFk87HITqwafvuTkLsyzYxFc_HI8LwApSaeApIVmjAUacjVFQ8tSwSXadY6yHRiBox/s320/Once+More+With+Feeling.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228957577219610978" border="0" /></a>Placebo were founded in 1994 by Brian Molko (vocals, guitar) and Stefan Olsdal (bass), who had both been educated at the American International School in Luxembourg before meeting up again in South Kensington, London. But while the band soon settled on the name Placebo, they were no so assured with drummers, alternating between two before permanently hiring Steve Hewitt in 1996. The band released its self-titled debut that year and became notorious for its overt sexuality, androgynous image (especially Molko) and drug addiction. While their debut sold well in Britain, critics were less kind about <span style="font-style: italic;">Without You, I'm Nothing </span>(1998), seeing Molko as pretentious. The follow-up, <span style="font-style: italic;">Black Market Music </span>(2000), took nine months to record and consolidated their continental fanbase, hitting the top of the French album charts. Their fourth album, <span style="font-style: italic;">Sleeping With Ghosts </span>(2003), marked a departure, with dancier themes replacing the heavier, American rock sound of old, and returned them to some form of success in Britain.<br /><br />Like many compilations, we begin at the beginning with '36 Degrees'. Taken from <span style="font-style: italic;">Placebo</span>, it's a good way to introduce us to the sound of the band, and along the way we get the odd lyrical gem, e.g. <span style="font-style: italic;">Allocate your sentiment and stick it in a box </span>from the first verse. Compared to some of the later, darker stuff, this is a bit flat, but at 3:08 it's punchy and (passive-)aggressive enough to pass muster.<br /><br />'Teenage Boy' has much the same sort of approach. It's very short, it's feisty and it packs a nicely rounded punch. It begins with a simple but effective riff from Molko, who then picks up the ball on the lyrics. Generally they are a little too forgettable to be classic Placebo, but the refrain - <span style="font-style: italic;">Since I was born I started to decay/ Now nothing ever ever goes my way</span> - is very good. It is a very effective piece, with special plaudits for Hewitt's sharp, economical drumming.<br /><br />On the next two tracks, however, the band start to lose their way. 'Nancy Boy' has none of the imagery or subtlely that the previous two songs had, and as a result it never really comes good. From a lyrical point of view, the subject matter is very clear (Molko's sexual encounters with multiple partners). But soon it falls apart as the band serve up the kind of inane chorus which no average pop song is complete without. This is not what we want, and neither is 'Bruise Pristine'. The riff which kicks things off is empty, the hi-hat a well-worn feature of metal and everything else is plain forgetable. It's not a bad track per se, there is nothing outrageously horrible about it, but neither is there all that much to excite you, making it a big disappointment.<br /><br />We now move on to the tracks from <span style="font-style: italic;">Without You, I'm Nothing</span>, which is where Placebo start to come good. The lyrics of 'Pure Morning' are among Molko's best: clever, caustic, and brutally honest. From the opening lines - <span style="font-style: italic;">A friend in need's a friend in deed/ A friend with weed is better </span>- you are aware of how much the band have developed and matured in the space of two years. This is musically tighter too, with little room left for showing off on either drums or guitar. The bass is more distinctive, and the whole mood is darker, blacker and resoundingly better.<br /><br />'You Don't Care About Us' begins with some drumming from Hewitt of which Dave Grohl would have been proud. Oldsal has more room in this track, and the production allows his Gibson Thunderbird to burrow and burn its way deep into your consciousness. This delicate thunder provides an interesting contrast to Molko's yearning, alto-ish vocals, so that the song feels balanced and potent. Good stuff.<br /><br />With 'Every You, Every Me', things take a turn for the worse. For a start, the sound that Placebo had so carefully built up is completely rent in twain by the acoustic guitar, which plays the kind of empty, inane riff that you would today encounter on a Ting Tings track (think 'Great DJ'). Molko's delivery sounds even more relaxed than usual, to the extent the feeble lyrics become beyond irony and you are quickly driven beyond all realm of patience.<br /><br />It's a damn good thing, then, that the band follows this up with the title track of their second album. 'Without You, I'm Nothing' features David Bowie on vocals, then in the tail end of his techno phase and fresh from the tour of <span style="font-style: italic;">Earthling </span>(1997). His influence shows; even though he had no part in writing the song, it sounds more professional, more cultured, more all-rounded somehow. His increasingly knarled voice blends superbly with Molko's, again providing a contrast between the high and low registers. And when the songs reaches its climax in the final choruses, it sends a dark shiver down your spine, just the effect Placebo should have on you.<br /><br />'Taste In Men' is the first track from <span style="font-style: italic;">Black Market Music</span>, and begins with a heady mix of bass and synthesisers underscored with full-sounding drums. The synths are particularly hypnotic, pulsing through your temples like the muffled beats eminating from an underground club. Molko's voice here is more snarly, more embittered, and as a result more exciting; if nothing else, it disguises the repetitive lyrics. Think of it as Massive Attack with an early-teen Johnny Rotten on vocals.<br /><br />Up to now this is all been a little uneven, but with 'Slave To The Wage' we shift things up a gear or two. This feels so more much professional than the previous tracks. The raw edge displayed in the choppy production may have been dulled, but all the despair and anger remain in full voice, backed by some wonderfully simple guitar work. The drums are thundery, like on an early Rolling Stones record; the bass is loose and jazzy; and Molko is jagged and snarling into the mike like a killer hornet. This isn't exactly the happiest song in the world, but that is not what Placebo are about. They are about creating deep, honest, scarring pieces of music which arouse emotion - and this brilliant track fulfills all these criteria.<br /><br />'Special K' is one of the more controversial songs included on here. Not controversial because of its selection - it's one of their more successful singles. The controversy lies in its subject matter - namely the use of drugs and in particular ketamine. But of course, Molko is clever in working around the subject, slipping in cultural and religious references along the way - <span style="font-style: italic;">Can the saviour be for real/ Or are you just my seventh seal?</span> Backed by a punk metal rhythm section, he wades through the song so you become sure he is singing about himself.<br /><br />'Black Eyed' is another good song, simple as. It doesn't have the effortless quality of 'Slave To The Wage' but it's hardly a let-down because of that. The subject matter is well-worn (a boy with a troubled childhood), but that doesn't stop Placebo from trying to find something new about it. And they manage to get away with it, thanks to the lightning-quick snare work of Hewitt. Olsdal's bass work is simpler and more conventional than usual, but to honest you won't care - largely because the only one you're focussing on is Molko.<br /><br />We now come to the really good stuff, namely the tracks from <span style="font-style: italic;">Sleeping With Ghosts</span>. 'The Bitter End', like all the songs off that album, is about relationships. With a more personal subject matter, the band feels more edgy and aggressive. The songs on here are shorter, punchier and heaps better in quality. The drums are simple and yet clever, as Hewitt combines a simple hi-hat and snare beat with an adrenaline-injected bass drum part. Molko is vocally in full flung form, catapulting you to a dark alley in a dying city. From the very way he sneers at the chorus, you can see the hatred and despair on his face. This is an electric song, a great track from an in-form band.<br /><br />'This Picture' kicks off with a positively evil bass line, and brings to mind, for some unknown reason, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Portrait of Dorian Gray</span>. This is not as compelling as the previous track, but there is still plenty to like here. It's quite similar to '36 Degrees' in its structure and form, but the addition of synthesisers under the melody help to distinguish it. The lyrics talk about sadomasochism, but unlike a lot of Molko's lyrics it is difficult to pick up on anything for a few listens, save a few references to <span style="font-style: italic;">ashtray girls </span>and <span style="font-style: italic;">growing old</span>.<br /><br />It is on the next two tracks, however, that the band reach their peak. 'Special Needs' begins with a tender but sinister riff and then it is Molko all the way. He sings like a psychopath, and his lyrics are demented in their feel, serving up a series of gruesome verses, and a simple, drilling chorus:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Just 19, a sucker's dream<br />I guess I thought you had the flavour<br />Just 19, and dream obscene<br />With 6 months off for bad behaviour<br /></span><br />The best lyrics are those that instantly put pictures in your head, and here you imagine him stuck in a cell, with only the rain and lightning for company.<span style="font-style: italic;"></span> The band play tightly and rigidly, but there is still a lot of passion in what they do. With 'English Summer Rain', things go the other way. All restraint is gone, all the gloves are off and everything is pumped full of energy to a frightening degree. Once again the lyrics are deceptively simple; they could be almost be called lazy if done by any other band. But with Placebo, they serve as a prism to focus all the darkness into something we can understand. And we get the message, as Molko bears his soul amid the claustrophobic, nightmarish soundscape the other members create. It's an amazing track, so innately simple and yet so full of meaning.<br /><br />Sadly, the next two tracks fall short of the new bar just ins<span style="font-family:georgia;">talled. '</span><span style="font-family:georgia;">Protège-Moi</span><span style="font-family:georgia;">'</span> is the French version of 'Protect Me From What I Want'. The English version is a good enough song, which leads you to question why they included this instead. Most people will find the French lyrics off-putting, not having the time or energy to decipher them. That is a big error, since the success of Molko's lyrics has always lain on being easy to understand while being all beautiful and metaphorical at the same time. This doesn't do that. 'I Do', meanwhile, has little better in its favour. The opening riff is sub-standard, Molko is singing in self-parody mode, and the whole thing feels stale. It's a good thing that this is the shortest track (at 2:28), because by the time you get to the second verse you'll really be annoyed.<br /><br />On 'Twenty Years', the closer, Molko's guitar playing has picked up, adding a lilting, blues feel into the abyss and taking things on an interesting journey. This is a definite departure for the band, back-referencing their career thus far while poking fun at the idea of them going on for as long as the title suggests: <span style="font-style: italic;">But all will pass/ We'll end too fast, you know</span>. The production is a lot clearer here than it has been elsewhere on this compilation, and you end up listening to it with a satisfied half-smile, reassured that this band will go on to greater things.<br /><br />When it comes down to it, <span style="font-style: italic;">Once More With Feeling </span>is not all that distinctive as a compilation. It follows the herd in the way it is laid out in chronological order, it contains only the band's most well-known work, and it includes a new track as a teaser to satisfy fans. So, on the surface, it is too humdrum to deserve a place on the chart. But if you focus on the music itself, its purpose eventually becomes clear. All Placebo's albums, including <span style="font-style: italic;">Sleeping With Ghosts </span>to an extent, are decidely uneven in quality and feel. They are at heart a singles band, and there is a reason why these particular songs were chosen. These songs are indicative of Placebo at each stage of their career, showcasing how they have improved and altered their sound throughout their first eight year. It's not so much a compilation as a narrow history lesson, which leaves you thinking that if there are twenty years to go, they're bound to produce something special along the way.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;">3.95 out of 5<br /></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-54657524876471861722008-07-31T00:00:00.019+01:002008-11-20T12:14:14.580+00:00Top 100 Albums - #27: Quadrophenia (1973)At number 27 is <span style="font-style: italic;">Quadrophenia</span>, The Who's second rock opera and their penultimate entry on the chart.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv2I7Tas5DFWvcyEzWf9NLbPAL2vFl43Shyphenhyphen8LfuHZd0gV1GlYcNLL-3mQrzu-kqo-56MFv-gQk7Eiej5mKaR_htbpxw7-X4-zavuBAKLj7Vksrg31cpvy2U-4naxU59HZF5VLY1QWekLJo/s1600-h/Quadrophenia.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv2I7Tas5DFWvcyEzWf9NLbPAL2vFl43Shyphenhyphen8LfuHZd0gV1GlYcNLL-3mQrzu-kqo-56MFv-gQk7Eiej5mKaR_htbpxw7-X4-zavuBAKLj7Vksrg31cpvy2U-4naxU59HZF5VLY1QWekLJo/s320/Quadrophenia.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228946182767968898" border="0" /></a>Although <span style="font-style: italic;">Who's Next</span> (1971) had become the band's most critically acclaimed album to date, Pete Townshend remained frustrated. The album had resulted from the collapse and termination of the <span style="font-style: italic;">Lifehouse</span> project, an overambitious multimedia production designed to push the boundaries of rock and film to the limit. The project, which only Townshend ever fully understood, almost claimed his sanity. But The Who returned to the road in good spirits, touring the States over two legs through the remainder of 1971, and being dubbed 'The Greatest Show on Earth' by <span style="font-style: italic;">The Los Angeles Times</span>.¹ By contrast, 1972 was a quiet year for the band. Townshend took six months off to reflect on the band's success, releasing a solo album, <span style="font-style: italic;">Who Came First</span><span>, </span>and two records dedicated to spiritual leader Meher Baba. Keith Moon's reputation for excess increased no end, punctuated only by his cameo in Frank Zappa's bizarre road movie, <span style="font-style: italic;">200 Motels. </span>While Roger Daltrey renovated his newly-bought Burwash estate and began recording his first solo album, <span style="font-style: italic;">Daltrey </span>(1973), John Entwistle released <span style="font-style: italic;">Whistle Rhymes </span>(1972)<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>and began initial recordings for <span style="font-style: italic;">Rigor Mortis Sets In</span> (1973). After playing to half a million people in Paris in August 1972, the band returned to the studio to begin recording Townshend's latest project, tentatively titled 'Jimmy'.²<br /><br />Things don't start well. 'I Am The Sea' is 2-and-a-bit minutes of perfectly produced but rather unsettling sound effects. The sound of the waves may set the scene for this opera - just off the coast of Brighton - but the snippets of brass and echoed vocals that wash up are downright confusing. The success of 'Baba O'Riley' on <span style="font-style: italic;">Who's Next</span>, with its long, radio-unfriendly intro, seems to have prompted Townshend to go further with his overtures. This time, it clearly hasn't worked. The overture to <span style="font-style: italic;">Tommy </span>(1969) was crisp and clear - this is convoluted and bizarre.<br /><br />Thankfully, this is soon rectified with 'The Real Me'. This is a hell of a track, kicking off with razor sharp guitar work from Townshend. Moon is on proper form, using every last inch of his already sumptuous kit to fill up the sound with fills where no other drummer would find the room. Entwistle is playful and jazzy, hinting at his later work with Alembics to create a wonderful, treble-ish melody. But the true highlight is Daltrey, whose range continues to grow while losing none of its raw power. On the contrary - at times here the energy coming off him as scary.<br /><br />The title track, which segues in from 'The Real Me', completes the scene-setting as far as we are concerned. It is now clear that this is very different to <span style="font-style: italic;">Tommy</span>; instead of some artistic fantasy, this is grittier, earthier and richer, exploring the often dark roots of the Mod movement which made The Who famous in the first place. The quadrophenia in question is a four-way split personality, to represent the four very different band members fighting under the single personality of The Who. Musically, this is a strange but elegant combination of synthesisers and acoustic, which actually works out quite well.<br /><br />Having established our setting and the symbolic illness in question, our character can now step forward into the limelight. 'Cut My Hair' introduces us to Jimmy, the quadrophenic London Mod in question, stuck living with his uptight parents in an age of poverty and social change. Townshend takes lead on the verses, backed by smooth piano chords and Moon's ride cymbals. But on the chorus it is Moon and Daltrey all the way, with lines like <span style="font-style: italic;">Dressed right for a beach fight/ But I just can't explain </span>being growled savagely. This song has good lyrics, but sharing them out has made it something of a hotch-potch. Some could say it symbolises the different sides of Jimmy, but if that were really the case, where are Moon and Entwistle?<br /><br />No such fears abound on 'The Punk And The Godfather'. This bursts forth from the 6 O'Clock News with immense attitude and huge torque; the opening chords will cause you to turn your head as if a gun had fired closed behind. Daltrey is back on lead and is in swaggering form, delivering Townshend's lyrics with a sardonic snarl. His voice is still raw and savage, but his ability to crest high notes with sufficient force has improved no end since<span style="font-style: italic;"></span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Live At Leeds </span>(1970, #68). When things do quieten down, Townshend takes over, but soon Daltrey smashes back with his passionate <span style="font-style: italic;">OKAY! </span>which greets the crowd of Mods dubbed in. This is brilliant stuff.<br /><br />'I'm One' returns to Townshend and brings acoustic guitar to the fore. Because, or perhaps in spite of this, this is another very, very good song. The riff may be more ponderous and complex, but you're not fooling anyone if you say this is directionless. Even on the quiet opening section, before Moon's snare fires up, you can sense a hidden energy under Townshend's singing. The rest of the song is all Townshend, with Moon subdued but still magical, and the third verse is completely self-deprecating:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I got a Gibson without a case<br />But I can't get that even-tanned look on my face<br />Ill-fitting clothes, I blend in the crowd<br />Fingers too clumsy, voice too loud<br /></span><br />After sufficient introspective musings, 'The Dirty Jobs' returns us properly to Jimmy, this time focussing on the dead-end world of working-class work. The synthesisers return to the foreground, and after what seems like a long absence, so does Entwistle. Our hero (or anti-hero) goes from feeding pigs to driving a bus-load of miners and a great deal besides, always being <span style="font-style: italic;">put down </span>and <span style="font-style: italic;">pushed round</span>, but always vowing not to <span style="font-style: italic;">sit and weep again</span>. Daltrey captures this sense of defiance tinged with despair to a tee, and the whole group feels tight and agile. We also get the huge end section from about 3:39 onwards, which completes the package.<br /><br />The first big slip-up on the album is 'Helpless Dancer', also known as 'Roger's Theme'. Townshend wanted to compose a theme for each of the four members, which is fine as an idea. But the execution of the idea in this case falls short. For a start, we get the same muffled brass section that we had on 'I Am The Sea', and the same oh-so-dramatic piano. Then the piano is reduced to loud, blunt minor chords, and Daltrey's rapid-fire vocals about frustration and identity are severely compromised by the tricksied-up production.<br /><br />It's a good thing, then, that the next two songs make up for this. 'Is It In My Head?' is chock full of emotion. Here the piano is sweet and saddened, Daltrey is allowed to sing straight-face, and Moon is back with a vengeance. The lyrics describe the mental deterioration of Jimmy, as his addiction to amphetamines begin to mess with his mind and make him act completely out of character. This song is a symbol of what Townshend is capable of if he really concentrates - it's powerful, elegant, unpredictable and honest. As is 'I've Had Enough', for that matter. Moon and Daltrey lead as before, as the former beats the living daylights out his tom-toms in some spectacular fills, and the latter graces the top of his voice with a sense of wrath and cunning. Once again, Entwistle has to take a back seat, but otherwise this is fabulous. Daltrey's scream of <span style="font-style: italic;">LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE </span>is the perfect way to end the first half.<br /><br />The second half begins as tentatively as the first, with the sound of train doors closing. Then the opening chords of '5:15' begin and we launch longingly into the first truly amazing track on here. This is a riot in which all four members are wrestling for control in this section about Jimmy making the trip, in more ways than one, from London to Brighton (<span style="font-style: italic;">Out of my brain on the train</span>). Townshend provides the jangly, dynamic guitars, Entwistle the intelligent horns and subtle bass lines, and Daltrey pushes himself still further with every passing lyric. But in truth, this song is all about Moon. From the first hit of the snare, you have a picture of him wheeling around the kit with a huge grin on his face. It shows so openly in his playing, lighting up the already-potent mix with an impish, rebellious charm, all the time keeping things tightly unpredictable. As we will see, there are many tracks which merit the title of <span style="font-style: italic;">tour de force</span>, and this is surely one of them.<br /><br />'Sea And Sand' finds Jimmy considering his future. Having been finally kicked out by his parents, he find himself in Brighton, and about to be caught up in the riots of 1965. But for the moment, all he can think of are his parents - who celebrated his eviction by getting drunk - and his <span style="font-style: italic;">perfect dresser </span>girlfriend. This is a great opportunity for Townshend to let loose some more personal potshots, again being self-deprecating about his inability to dress like the 'Ace Face'. Musically, The Who are now fully into their stride, with rip-roaring riffs and toe-tapping drum beats. But now, at last, Entwistle's bass has been cranked back up to the deafening level that it was on 'The Real Me'.<br /><br />'Drowned' is a big duffer, I'm afraid. The piano which accompanies Townshend at the start is just too twinkling and sanitised. This taints the rest of the sound, which isn't helped by the fact that his lyrics come up short too (<span style="font-style: italic;">I'm travelling down cold metal/ Just a tear in a baby's eye</span>? Come on.). This doesn't feel like a thoroughbred Who song at all. It feels like a sub-standard piece of 1970s piano rock with Keith's part from another song dubbed over it.<br /><br />Speaking of Keith, we know get back on track with 'Keith's Theme' - 'Bell Boy'. Thanks to Moon's wonderful drumming and tongue-in-cheek vocals, this would become a huge live favourite, as seen on the film from Charlton Football Ground in 1974.³ Moon may not be a singer at heart, but he knows a thing or two about comedy characters and timing, going from the loud-mouthed ex-Ace Face to tender boy wonder and back again. The others are on similar form, particularly Townshend who has finally made the synthesisers blend with The Who's sound as well as they did on <span style="font-style: italic;">Who's Next</span>.<br /><br />'Doctor Jimmy' is the longest track here, at 8:36. This is partially because it incorporates 'John's Theme', a.k.a. 'Is It Me For A Moment?'. We have heard snippets of it before, but here it is in full, sandwiched with no hint of awkwardness between two fiery salvos from Roger Daltrey. In a flash, all the playfulness of 'Bell Boy' is gone, blown away by the sea breeze at the start of the track. The band start muted, but soon they build, like Jimmy's fury, into something enormous. Daltrey and Jimmy become one huge, angry visceral young man, spitting out lines like insults and retorts made in mid-fight with a Rocker. The chorus is Townshend at his most vitriolic:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">What is it?<br />I'll take it<br />Who is she?<br />I'll rape it<br />Got a bed there?<br />I'll need it<br />Getting high?<br />You can't beat it</span><br /><br />It's the last two tracks, though, where things get really good. 'The Rock', which interpolates from 'Doctor Jimmy', is on first impression just a reworking of the title track. The riffs are similar, the tempo is the same, and the time signature is the same. But after the first 13 seconds have passed, all idea of retreading old ground evaporates as Moon comes along and takes control. He famously hated drum solos, and this certainly isn't one. What it is is a wonderful instrumental interplay between drums and guitar, chronicalling Jimmy's journey (or 'trip') to an island off Brighton in a lonely motor boat. Townshend's Les Paul sings out sadly and seriously in the silence that is the middle section, but throughout this is counter-balanced by Keith's endless invention and creative appetite. Any other drummer asked to play along with this would have created something pedestrian - but Keith moves with Townshend, teasing the listener and again making you smile, not just in laughter but in reverence at how euphorically he is playing.<br /><br />If you want real euphoria though, you want 'Love, Reign O'er Me'. It opens with the distinctive, heavenly piano chords, which thunder down through the pouring rain right into the heart of the listener. Here we end as we began, with Jimmy alone on Brighton Rock, watching his life flash before his eyes, wondering what it all means and who he really is. Townshend surpasses everyone's expectations - including his own - on his 'Theme', and not just on the ethereal opening. After so many snippets of themes and riffs which served to confuse the listener before, here it all comes together; the synthesisers provide the violin-esque backdrop as Daltrey (and Jimmy) bears his soul. And boy, does Daltrey respond, capturing the essence of Townshend's lyrics about empathy and introspection and turning them into one of the greatest love songs ever written. It is never clear whom he is delivering this song to - God, his lover, his parents, the other parts of himself - but what is always clear is that he means it. If the rest of the album made you confused and frustrated, this will give you a deep, spiritual thrill which deepens every time you hear it.<br /><br />While it may not have translated all that well to the live circuit, there is no doubt that <span style="font-style: italic;">Quadrophenia</span> is a proper Who album, if not the definitive Who album. There is so much in the way of substance on offer, whether in the gnarled, gritty realism of Townshend's London, or in the deep, soul-inspiring poetry which he conjures up in the midst of this. This is certainly superior to <span style="font-style: italic;">Tommy</span>, not because it is more realistic, but because the narrative is never allowed to excessively interfere with the music. While on <span style="font-style: italic;">Tommy </span>we had to put up with songs like 'Miracle Cure' and 'Tommy's Holiday Camp' for the sake of continuity, here the narrative is allowed to weave in and out of the concept as it sees fit. This creates a more exciting, more all-rounded result, still uneven in places but that is the nature of rock opera. Cited by Townshend as the pinacle of The Who's achievements on record, it still stands today as one of the most compelling, intriguing, and thrilling albums of the 1970s. Anyone who cares even faintly about music should own it.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">3.94 out of 5<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">References</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>¹ Robert Hilburn, quoted in Andy Neill & Matt Kent, <em>Anyway Anyhow Anywhere: The Complete Chronicle of The Who, 1958-1978 </em>(London: Virgin Books, 2007), p.276.<br />² Pete Townshend, quoted in Roy Carr, 'Pete Townshend: Who Came First', <span style="font-style: italic;">NME</span>, October 7 1972 - cited in Neill & Kent, <span style="font-style: italic;">Anyway Anyhow Anywhere</span>, p.313.<br />³ http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=jsFKWGlrze0. Accessed on August 30 2008.<br /></div></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-38132557476413005872008-07-29T15:12:00.015+01:002008-11-20T12:15:41.982+00:00Top 100 Albums - #28: Beyond These Shores (1993)Celtic band Iona make their third and final appearance with <span style="font-style: italic;">Beyond These Shores</span>, a concept album of sorts based loosely on the transatlantic voyage of St. Brendan.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWNohPafVdULy_3ZdV5cj2_jKH7ghwQ3wy4YIe334FVgBaAsQG6oNph-JL9QYP10ihkm1SQbqh9mO2nJNAfu46tUsvxvFoJrM1Er6RpaglKmxpOC5gIJFwmOELCRpv2BIcyT2FB9yYSgRW/s1600-h/Beyond+These+Shores.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWNohPafVdULy_3ZdV5cj2_jKH7ghwQ3wy4YIe334FVgBaAsQG6oNph-JL9QYP10ihkm1SQbqh9mO2nJNAfu46tUsvxvFoJrM1Er6RpaglKmxpOC5gIJFwmOELCRpv2BIcyT2FB9yYSgRW/s320/Beyond+These+Shores.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228439450669075490" border="0" /></a>Neither of Iona's first two releases - <span style="font-style: italic;">Iona </span>(1990) and <span style="font-style: italic;">The Book Of Kells </span>(1992, #46), had made much impact commercially, and the critics had been largely indifferent. This lack of sales and acclaim prompted the departure of founder member David Fitzgerald, who left at the end of 1992 to pursue a degree in music. His place was filled by saxophonist Mike Haughton, one of a plethora of visiting musicians who would take part on the recording of the third album. Following the tour to support <span style="font-style: italic;">The Book Of Kells</span>, Robert Fripp, of King Crimson fame, became interested in the band, and brought his trademark 'Frippertronic' production and guitar work into the mix. With the live circuit still very much the band's lifeblood, Iona needed to produce something which would satisfy their fans while teasing the critics.<br /><br />Teasing is the word, actually. 'Prayer On The Mountain' begins with some intriguing, new age-y bells and rainstick. Amidst this menagerie of perusable percussion comes Troy Donockley's ever-splendid flute playing. Just as on 'Lindisfarne' from <span style="font-style: italic;">Journey Into The Morn </span>(1996), this piece is hardly in-your-face: it slowly rises from the ground which bears it, gradually blooming into a sweet and fitting overture (see my review of <span style="font-style: italic;">Woven Cord</span> (1999, #35). Being only 2:53 long it doesn't have as long as 'Lindisfarne' to make an impression, but no time is wasted here and the result is great.<br /><br />From here we launch straight into 'Treasure', and already we see a more commercial, straightforward Iona. The flutes and <span style="font-family:georgia;">bodhrán </span>may still be there, we are still dealing with a celtic band. But the lyrics are more direct and straightforwardly Christian, paraphrasing from Matthew 6 throughout. Look at the first verse:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Consider the flowers of the field<br />And the beauty<br />More lovely then even the clothes of a king<br />Consider the birds of the air<br />Flying high, flying free<br />You are precious to me<br /></span><br />What is more, this song incorporates conventional rock beats on the drums (Terl Bryant), and Dave Bainbridge's guitar work is more grounded and rocky than his usual swirling majesty. Don't think, however, this is Iona selling out. This is a very, very good song, retaining all the qualities of Iona's most conceptual and beautiful work while being a lot easier on the casual listener. It's really the best of both worlds, particularly since Bainbridge fans get a carefully placed acoustic solo halfway through.<br /><br />Back to concepts of sorts now, and 'Brendan's Voyage (Navigatio)'. As on the first track, there are plenty of unusual noises which create a pleasant texture. But then just as you have got comfortable, Bainbridge lurches forward and ruins it with a guitar part straight out of an ageing 80s metal band. All the carefully crafted euphoria is lost, and no matter how hard Joanne Hogg tries she cannot rescue this song. The lyrics don't help her in this, but she is also overpowered by the drums, as she would be on later Iona records like <span style="font-style: italic;">The Circling Hour </span>(2006).<br /><br />'Edge Of The World' is much more like it. The melody is given time to emerge, emerging slowly this time backed by graceful, jazz-inspired piano and bass from Nick Beggs. Hogg seems much more at home, not having to fight the band for dominion. And the vocals suit her voice a lot better. Having made an unsung appearance on 'Treasure', Haughton shines here on both saxophone and whistle. This may be more down-tempo, but it is this kind of graceful, ethereal and timelessly elegant style which have always suited Iona best.<br /><br />'Today' is a return to pop, of sorts. The rhythms are more staccato, the tempo is quicker, the lyrics are driven by hooks rather than imagery and atmosphere. Which is a shame really, because without these this could have been a good song. With these things in place - at least, the first two - the result comes across as compromised and half-arsed. It feels like a bog-standard worship band, with pedestrian guitar chords; the only thing that seperates it is the overactive percussion. This is not what we have come to expect of Iona.<br /><br />Neither, for that matter, is 'View From The Islands'. The problem with this is chiefly its length; at 2:30 it's the shortest on the album, but it's hardly a punchy motown number. On the contrary, it's a Bainbridge acoustic workout, and a below-par one at that. Virtually nothing tumbles out of his guitar which will sustain your interests, and then Bainbridge throws in Haughton's flutes with the same riff as 'Prayer On The Mountain' in a vain attempt to rescue it.<br /><br />But be patient, for with 'Bird Of Heaven' it's clear the band have listened. For starters, it's the longest track here, at 9:12, so there is no danger of being short-changed. Backed by graceful keyboard chords, Haughton begins the piece with a saxophone solo to die for; his soulful, jazzy playing transports you to an empty street in the middle of the night, and you are walking down it with only the lamps to guide you. Soon the walk become a joyful jog as the band lock down for one of their best instrumentals. Everything is tight, measured and yet so elegant - Bainbridge's guitar wails where before he could only make it shriek, at times coming close to the brooding sound Steve Hackett achieved on <span style="font-style: italic;">The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway </span>(1974). And unlike his successor, Frank van Essen, Bryant manages both power and economy on the drums. When we do get to the lyrics, they are a timely reminder of the dangers of locking God in religion to suit our needs. This is much, much more like it.<br /><br />Moving on to 'Murlough Bay', we find Hogg really getting into her stride. No other female singer is so well suited to these lyrics: she sings the line <span style="font-style: italic;">And here at last I'm on my own with you</span> in a voice so pure that it could be used to tune an orchestra, but with so much feeling and emotion that no fancy effects, not even the echo Bainbridge has added, are necessary to lift her performance. And when she is required to grace the highest registers, she does not flinch or falter, serving up another wonderful effort.<br /><br />'Burning Like Fire' returns to the more commercial, straight-ahead sound that we saw on 'Treasure' and would later see on <span style="font-style: italic;">Journey Into The Morn</span>. The lyrics are simpler, especially when it comes to the chorus, but once again this is achieved without compromising their unique sound. Bainbridge's guitar is still yearning and Bryant's drumming still thundery. And in the quieter sections, where the drums go all jazzy, Haughton is allowed to flourish again.<br /><br />'Adrift' is another instrumental, the longest such piece on the album. It's a very textual piece, relying on sweet, high-register piano laid over the softly humming keyboard backdrops. At its heart, this is a chill-out piece, nearly 4 minutes of music designed to completely soothe you. But unlike artists like Eddi Reader, who can chill you out to the point of making you fall asleep, this manages to make you relaxed while constantly sustaining your interests. The changes are not brusque and rapid enough to 'wake' you, but you are never allowed to slip away into sleep.<br /><br />We now come to 'Beachy Head', which is, quite simply, the greatest song ever written. There is so much which makes this so majestic and magical. For starters, it's a song about suicide which actually lifts your spirits; in this aspect it is almost certainly unique. The band have played tightly before, but here the links between them are almost telepathic; each member, each instrument, knows what the others will do next and knows exactly when to come in and what to do. From the flute's duet with piano at the start to the soaring sax at the end, there is not a single passage which is superfluous or out of place. Bainbridge is astounding - his keyboards are graceful and sweet, while his guitar work burbles with brio. The riff created on the flute is fundamentally inspired, being quirky and ethereal at the same time. Hogg is on the best form of her career, injecting this with so much passion and always hitting the exact notes at the exact right moment. Bryant's drumming is understated, but brilliant - there is nothing too ornate or fancy, just good solid flicks of the sticks. And to cap it all, Bainbridge as producer has captured every sound in perfect harmony, so you can hear in total clarity <span style="font-style: italic;">every single note</span>. This song is above and beyond everything that this band have created before or since. It is just - perfection.<br /><br />'Machrie Moor' has a huge act to follow, but makes a decent effort of it. It does what it can to follow 'Beachy Head', taking the tempo right down while sustaining that sweetness, that feeling of great pleasure which you get from hearing Iona. The instruments are quieter and more modest; Bainbridge may have the largest part on acoustic, but he is hardly leading from the front. Instead he anchors the piece, allowing Frank van Essen's violins and Donockley's pipes to do their thing, and do it well.<br /><br />'Healing' will start off as a difficult track to like for some people. It is a more standard piece, with simpler riffs and an even simpler chorus. Simplicity is not in itself a bad thing, but for a band like Iona who create beauty through intricacy, it can be seen as laziness. Hogg is struggling too, butchering the opening line (<span style="font-style: italic;">You've returned like some unsung her-o-oh</span> threatens to throw the whole thing off course). But given time and patience, you will find this as pleasing as most of the other stuff on here. It is not lazy or cheesy, it is simply not what you would normally expect from Iona, at least on the basis of the rest of this album.<br /><br />'Brendan's Return' is an instrumental reprise of the third track, with almost the same running time. But strangely, this is better than the first one. For a start, the unusual textures used to set the scene have been significantly pared back, so there is less chance of the piece dragging. Then the 80s guitar has been toned down and and made great by the addition of saxophone on harmony part, again adding a jazzy feel. Bryant is allowed a little more room to work his magic, chiefly because there are now no vocals for him to drown out.<br /><br />We close this great album with the title track, a track which would become the great closer for Iona's live shows. Emerging out of the silence, Hogg returns to form with a set of lyrics and notes bespoke for her range and approach to singing. So while she sings like a siren on the shoreline, the rest of the band are there to paint the canvass surrounding her, with light, subtle touches and fitting riffs. It's a beautiful piece, one of the best tracks on here by a long way (though not as good as 'Beachy Head'). The lyrics pour over the lines like liquid spilling over a floor; they go their own, unique way and gradually fill the sound up. What a great way to finish.<br /><br />Iona have always been a band to do things their own way, whether live or on record. They have never been afraid to push the boundaries, to explore the limits of what is considered 'Christian rock' and come up with something profoundly different from the<span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span>cheesy Delirious? norm. <span style="font-style: italic;">Beyond These Shores </span>is the climax of that experimentation. Previous works, like <span style="font-style: italic;">The Book Of Kells</span>, were beautiful and well-written in their own right, but compared to this they sound like a band still finding itself. And later works, including their most recent release, have seen the band either straying too close to the mainstream or the opposite, disappearing into the dark void of showing off, prog-style. This is the only album where everything comes together at the right time and in just the right quantity. It's still flawed, but it retains a certain magic and spirit even at its most disappointing moments. Where many Christian records are off-putting and old hat, this is inviting, intriguing - and always rewarding.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">3.93 out of 5<br /></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-87908907237654354682008-07-29T14:50:00.008+01:002008-11-20T12:16:45.665+00:00Top 100 Albums - #29: Details (2002)At number 29 is the only release from ambient electro duo Frou Frou, comprised of singer-songwriter Imogen Heap and producer Guy Sigsworth.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS7fbsKiC70RWqWJM6kBhqljrvMFm8JR1CSLmk8ZokhRt0y7f9zK03xwThC0FkRyLb1HJrUT4Vz9ZkpB7jS6T-CUDNoQhMhxSAJJRlMJaMHdDEFJ7tSJk-6nDwEKS0EkHxAhXOnJexITFu/s1600-h/Details.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS7fbsKiC70RWqWJM6kBhqljrvMFm8JR1CSLmk8ZokhRt0y7f9zK03xwThC0FkRyLb1HJrUT4Vz9ZkpB7jS6T-CUDNoQhMhxSAJJRlMJaMHdDEFJ7tSJk-6nDwEKS0EkHxAhXOnJexITFu/s320/Details.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228433921518337490" border="0" /></a>Heap was introduced to Sigsworth during the production of her debut album, <span style="font-style: italic;">I Megaphone </span>(1998). Sigsworth had written and produced songs for the likes of Seal and Madonna, but it was his work with Björk which brought him to the attention of Heap's label, Almo Records. After the end of the tour to support <span style="font-style: italic;">I Megaphone</span>, Almo Records was bought and disbanded, leaving Heap without a record deal and with her protean second album caught up in legal red tape. Sigsworth came to her aid and began writing tracks with her while his own band, Acacia, sorted out its own legal problems. Over the course of 2001 the pair met up spontaneously to record individual songs, so that by December they had officially become a duo. The name Frou Frou came from Arthur Rimbaud's poem 'Ma Bohème', and is onomatopoeia for the swishing noise made by dancing women's skirts. The duo made a tentative first appearance with the track 'Aeroplane' on the Japanese re-release of <span style="font-style: italic;">I Megaphone</span>, testing the water before releasing their own album.<br /><br />'Let Go' sets the mood on the album, and from the start it is a departure from Heap's previous work. While many of the songs on <span style="font-style: italic;">I Megaphone</span> featured dark, heavy piano ('Come Here Boy' and 'Candlelight' especially), here the feel is a lot more swirling and electronic. When the piano does eventually come in, it's high and dainty, backed by a tinny drum beat. That means that it is entirely up to Heap to deliver the goods in terms of depth, and thankfully she succeeds. The wonderful thing about Heap's voice is that it can dart in and out of notes, without sounding electronically altered. It's a very good start.<br /><br />But sadly, this is not completely sustained, as the next track shows. 'Breathe In' begins with a hugely frustrating riff, played on a tweaked guitar and backed by an annoying click. With the intro over, Heap is forced to sing over the drums which are too loud and obtrusive. Her voice is not the most powerful in the business, and so she sounds drowned out and distant. It's not massively unpleasant as a track, but it feels just a little too close to the mainstream to be a bona fide Heap track.<br /><br />Thankfully, the next two tracks are bona fide. On 'It's Good To Be In Love', Heap is given more room, with the keyboards pushed to the back of the mix and the drums muffled into a corner. This is also a lot more satisfying as a set of lyrics; the chorus may be a little cheesy, but everywhere else Heap is getting into her stride. No particular lines leap out, but there is a tight, holistic feel to them, and they flow well with the soundscape created by Sigsworth. 'Must Be Dreaming' is, as the title suggests, more dreamy, more wistful. It opens with the multi-tracked whispered vocals which Heap would utilise on <span style="font-style: italic;">Speak For Yourself </span>(2005), and from then on in, it is Heap's song straight through. Unlike on 'Breathe In', here you get the sense that she is in control, taming the sterile soundscape and shaping it to suit her mood to create something very interesting.<br /><br />'Psychobabble', however, is something else. From the second the intro begins - on what sounds like treated tubular bells - you realise that the quality levels are creeping up. Sigsworth lays on a snaking, slithering backing track, which wriggles in and out of the foreground inbetween the vocals. Heap is now fully in control, with her unique delivery coming properly into play; even on the opening lines, <span style="font-style: italic;">How did you get this number?/ I can't get my head 'round you</span>, you can hear every word clearly and purely, and yet she is singing with a lot of frustration and fear in her voice. It is difficult to put one's finger of what makes this track such a thrill, but there is an unquestionable magic to it which defies both description and explanation. Suffice to say, it's a brilliant song.<br /><br />'Only Got One' is not quite up to that standard, but it's hardly a pedestrian effort. The strangely off-set riff in the first 18 seconds creates a laid-back, intellectual atmosphere, over which Heap can gently drift. We will let her off with lines like <span style="font-style: italic;">You are held in a queue/ Someone will be with you shortly</span>, or put them down to irony, because they do not compromise the pleasant mood of this distinctly 21st-century work about living life to the full.<br /><br />'Shh' gets out of the blocks a lot better than the others. The lyrics come straight in, matching the compressed riff beat for beat throughout the song. The chorus especially is an improvement on previous efforts:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Don't make a sound<br />Shh and listen<br />Keep your head down<br />We're not safe yet<br />Don't make a sound<br />And be good for me<br />'Cos I know they're waiting somewhere out here<br /></span><br />This song also sees Sigsworth pulling his weight. At 3:20 he creates a throbbling, pulsating dance beat, like the quiet sections of a Faithless record, which gives the song a lot more character. Finally the Frou Frou sound is beginning to become clear.<br /><br />If 'Psychobabble' was a great work, 'Hear Me Out' is a masterpiece. Heap is on full-flung form, with brilliant lyrics about a failing relationship, delivered with an air of desperate passion - and yet she still sounds so damn cool. There is nothing to distract you from her wonderful performance, since the accompaniment is generally serene, and when Sigsworth's creations do rear their heads (at about 2:29), Heap is completely at ease, responding with a cleverly-controlled violence that we would later see on songs like 'Daylight Robbery' and 'The Walk' (both from <span style="font-style: italic;">Speak For Yourself</span>). The multi-tracked vocals, with their characteristic echo, generate a wonderful wall of sound (or perhaps Heap of sound?) which is captured in all its radiance by some spot-on production. This is by far the best track on here.<br /><br />After the best track, we come to the worst. 'Maddening Shroud' begins with a superbly annoying descent down the scale by Heap, making her sound prissy and childish. As the song progresses, you become more forgiving, and the later sections feel good. But the background chimes still get on your nerves and you come away feeling cheated. 'Flicks' is no better, with its messed-up vibraphone and Heap's excrutiating showboating, first heard at 1:09. The lyrics read like student poetry; without form or anything compelling - which is a big worry.<br /><br />But before you become desperately compelled to cut this experience short, we return to form with the final two tracks. 'The Dumbing Down Of Love' is a sweet, elegant piano ballad. Sigsworth, save for a few well-timed interventions, is out of the picture altogether. What this means is that Heap has more to play with, gently sparring with the violins and piano while all the time presenting something beautiful and heartfelt. It's not quite perfect, being a little too long, but it contains that most truthful of lines: <span style="font-style: italic;">Music is worthless unless it can/ Make a complete stranger/ Break down and cry</span>.<br /><br />'Old Piano' continues the piano theme, but this time the production is headier, and heavier. It takes a while for any sort of melody to come in from the rain. But when it does, the wait becomes worthwhile. The simple, bittersweet piano chords mingle with the sad saxophone and repressed strings, and Heap comes across as rather spooky, teasing you with her <span style="font-style: italic;">Oh well</span>s. This is a mood piece, make no mistake, but it feels like something more substantial, and it sounds a lot more rewarding. But it still retains every ounce of Heap's elegance and is a very fitting closer.<br /><br />In many ways, <span style="font-style: italic;">Details</span> is a flawed record. Many of the songs are too long, and the lyrics are generally below-par, making it just a little too mainstream to be a proper Imogen Heap work. A lot of this is naturally down to Sigsworth, who would later go on to produce Madonna's sterile, electro-grounded <span style="font-style: italic;">American Life </span>(2003). His often overbearing touches from the mixing desk either drown Heap out or simply make things too complicated, and as a result the best moments are when Heap is largely left to her own devices. But don't think that this is a complete failure - quite the opposite. For all the filler and falling short, there is some tantalising glimpses of brilliance, both in what these two have created in their own right and in the techniques which would make <span style="font-style: italic;">Speak For Yourself </span>such an amazing record. <span style="font-style: italic;">Details</span>, in short, has an air of frustrated elegance; it's the sort of album you would play in a left-field espresso bar, while you sit at the window and watch the world go by. It's not perfect, but there is plenty on here to make you feel great inside.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /><div style="text-align: right;">3.92 out of 5<br /></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-90827189634136111592008-07-29T14:15:00.011+01:002008-11-20T12:18:24.894+00:00Top 100 Albums - #30: Through The Windowpane (2006)Multi-national indie rockers Guillemots make their only entry on the chart with their full-length debut, <span style="font-style: italic;">Through The Windowpane</span>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDobgoCdfvTgwVQLGSsBnT9d2h57Zq1ORiOKfIUNLcq2iwdJSLdpe200h1mSzv93Z8n8D2FUJxFu7S2mnjXGR72O5LLLGvEFE92jP8864tDoeqZ-D13S-hWj6cOVoeVChndYWoXCcInT47/s1600-h/Through+The+Windowpane.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDobgoCdfvTgwVQLGSsBnT9d2h57Zq1ORiOKfIUNLcq2iwdJSLdpe200h1mSzv93Z8n8D2FUJxFu7S2mnjXGR72O5LLLGvEFE92jP8864tDoeqZ-D13S-hWj6cOVoeVChndYWoXCcInT47/s320/Through+The+Windowpane.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228424983893625410" border="0" /></a>Fyfe Dangerfield began his musical career as the lead singer and songwriter for Senseless Prayer, a pop-rock band whose released a series of obscure EPs and received the support of John Peel. After the group folded in 1999, he began gigging in Birmingham as Fyfe Dangerfield & The Accident. After moving to London in 2002 to work as a music teacher, he recruited Brazilian-born MC Lord Magr<span style="font-family:georgia;">ão (guitar), Canadian-born Aristazabel Hawkes (double bass) and Londoner Greig Stewart (drums). The newly-formed Guillemots - who took their name from a seabird - released <span style="font-style: italic;">I Saw Such Things In My Sleep EP</span> in September 2005, in a limited edition of 1000. Shortly after they went on tour, opening for Rufus Wainwright on his sell-out UK tour. Two other EPs followed quickly - <span style="font-style: italic;">Of The Night EP </span>(2005) and the more successful <span style="font-style: italic;">From The Cliffs EP </span>(2006), both released on Fantastic Plastic Records.</span> As a result of these the band were included in the BBC Sound of 2006 survey, and clamour for a full-length record began to grow.¹<br /><br />We kick off this charming slice of modern indie with 'Little Bear'. Anyone who was expecting frantic, highly strung riffs and shouty lyrics will get a big shock, because the first sounds drifting through the speakers are that of violins: violins which create a serene, Vaughan Williams intro. A successful preamble, it means that when Dangerfield does come in on piano, he stands no chance of sounding twee or self-absorbed. Like many indie singers, diction takes a back seat and so at first he is hard to fathom, but once you have negotiated through his brogue you are treated to a wonderful, heartfelt opener.<br /><br />Having set the bar, the band smash through it with 'Made-Up Lovesong #43'. This song appears on both their previous EPs, so the difference in sound is not a huge surprise. But some features of 'Little Bear' remain, most of them contained in Dangerfield's delivery. His gently burbling organ serves as good juxtaposition for his yearning, passionate delivery. Stewart's drumming begins like squashed jazz before rapidly uncoiling after the first verse. This is not all that strong an effort from a lyrical point of view, but the vibes are good enough to disguise this.<br /><br />With 'Trains To Brazil', however, there is no need for excuses. Here the drums are loud and funky, kicking up a solid and catchy rhythm over which Magr<span style="font-family:georgia;">ão can begin to work his magic. This is still Dangerfield's song though, through and through. On keys he provides a driven, 1970s-rock chord progression which again sits at an oddly good angle with his stricken melody. Vocally, he is more careful, reigning himself in from his looser moments; rather than mumble the lyrics, or shout them, he sings them. And he sings better than a lot of his contemporaries. The whole outfit are working together, playing off each other, and while the bass is somehow lost in the swirling mix, once you lock into it you realise how great it sounds.<br /><br />'Redwings' opens like a Salvation Army band at Christmas, and turns into winter poetry. It may be a return to the tempo of 'Little Bear', but Dangerfield is clearer, in terms of diction and intent. The lyrics read like a poem rather than words to a song, which makes it all the more fitting that they are sung in a breathy, down-tone way. The smooth organ ebbs and flows in the background with the brass band, creating a soundscape within itself. It sounds a bit like 'The Nest That Sailed The Sky' (see my review of <span style="font-style: italic;">OVO</span> (2000, #81)). </span><span style="font-family:georgia;">There is no sharp Latin beat to kick things up here; even the ending is downbeat and beautiful.<br /><br />The first time this fourpiece drop the ball is on '</span><span style="font-family:georgia;">Come Away With Me'. As on previous tracks we get the wierd bird noises and the sumptuous organ soundscape. But unlike before there is nothing rhythmically solid for Dangerfield to lock into; the double bass is too jazzy and loose, and the drums are almost totally out of the picture, appearing in sporodic show-off segments. As a mood piece, this may work, but as a song, it has the feeling of filler. The title track, though, is much more like it. The drums have settled down, been clipped back and made more dynamic. The bass is more playful at the end of lines as Aristazabel creates some lovely touches to lighten the mood. Overall, this is another bright, informal song from a band which never takes itself too seriously.<br /><br />After this rather childlike number, 'If The World Ends' seems like an overambitious jump. It's like you've come out of a Bangles gig at the interval, and when you came back in they'd been replaced by The Blue Nile. But don't be fooled - everything that made the last six tracks good is still there, albeit with the volume turned down. Dangerfield sounds at home, crooning lyrics about love in a manner akin to Paul Buchanan. And once again, the beautiful organ accompanies him, taking us to the waters' edge where our two lovers are lying in each other's arms.<br /><br />'We're Here' begins with the same spaced-out, coastal organ that graced the last piece. Only this time, the tempo has been kicked back up, and the mood has changed to one of youthful optimism, perfectly captured in the first verse:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The world is our carpet now<br />The world is our dance floor now<br />Remind me how to dance again<br />The world is our carpet now<br /><br /></span>It's a song of hope and new beginnings, wrapped up in the blinding language of love. Dangerfield delivers his lyrics with a happy abandon that we have not seen up to now; he is singing with a huge smile on his face, which is exactly what we end up with after this.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br />'Blue Would Still Be Blue' counters the 'upper' that was the previous track with a series of four-note piano riffs which are designed to completely and utterly chill you. Played on what sounds like an e-piano, the notes bounce through the mix like raindrops rippling the surface of a lake. The lyrics may be trying to be too clever, with lines like </span><span style="font-style: italic;">It's not raining cats, it's not raining dogs/ Pigs are not flying, or turning the cogs.</span> But they retain a strange, almost ethereal beauty, due to Dangerfield's honest yearning into the mike.<br /><br />'Annie, Let's Not Wait', meanwhile, is pure and simple pop. The guitars are jangly, the keyboards are kooky and off-the-wall, and Dangerfield is in happy-throwaway mode. It is only because of these inate and pleasing cheeriness that he can get away with the opening lines, <span style="font-style: italic;">I found something crying, it was my soul/ I fed it milk, so it wouldn't grow old</span>. At heart, this is a cheerful, snappy, midsummer song, just on the right side of mainstream to avoid being instantly forgetable.<br /><br />We have reached the final two tracks, and they are both distinctly odd. 'And If All...' is the shortest track on here, at only 1:19, and it reads a little like David Bowie's 'Eight Line Poem' (see my review of <span style="font-style: italic;">Hunky Dory </span>(1971, #34). It segues out of the previous track and contains little in the way of interest or substance, reducing it to pure filler. 'São Paulo', on the other hand, is the longest track on the album, at a whopping 11:42. Beginning with waves and tinkling piano which are straight out of <span style="font-style: italic;">Quadrophenia</span> (1973), it then morphs quickly into a Procol Harum-style piano piece backed by flugelhorn and tubular bells. The vast number of different sounds and tempo changes on show here almost make this a prog track, and mean that you need a wealth of patience to last the distance. But if you can, this piece is hugely rewarding, if a little overwhelming.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Through The Windowpane </span>is an album of two halves. On the one hand, we have a selection of elegant, beautiful and avant-garde love songs, drawing inspiration from classical music and downbeat jazz. On the other hand, we have a series of bright, carefree and rich pop songs, still a little different to the indie humdrum, but not enough to make everyone notice. 'Trains To Brazil', the best track, is slap-bang in the middle, being both a great pop song and a remarkable piece of rock craftsmanship. On the follow-up, <span style="font-style: italic;">Red </span>(2008), the band would gradually drift towards the pop end of the spectrum, but here there are still trying to figure out who they are. But despite this, the album never lurches from one style to another; it doesn't feel like a demo tape or a compilation. Much like <span style="font-style: italic;">Hunky Dory</span>, its unity comes in the disparity and variety of the material on offer. The two very different kinds of songs are both played with the same unpredictable grace and hints of madness that the best bands have always had. Thus, even on its most mainstream moments, <span style="font-style: italic;">Through The Windowpane </span>remains leftfield, unusual, and almost completely mad - making it a must-have who anyone interested in music.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">3.92 out of 5<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">References</span><br />¹ 'Sound of 2006: The Top 10', BBC News: Entertainment (January 6 2006), http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/4514016.stm. Accessed on July 29 2008.<br /></div></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-420304547242244016.post-37079488687529440612008-07-29T00:30:00.023+01:002008-11-20T12:19:30.569+00:00Top 100 Albums - #31: Echoes - The Best of Pink Floyd (2001)The Floyd make their third of eight chart entries with <span style="font-style: italic;">Echoes</span>, a double-album compilation compiled by all four members.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK4eJTD0hNMlqoDa1lq7RQbVuhiv6C7Ji2EmV2V72BN_adAOesaMFocBLr9uxzWt7rNHHPDmRO9ululiB7F9wdSKqnAg2O74h9HdqQzTRva7e2gM75t3bEfBm3igxQweo_UWIH3Xj0K5bh/s1600-h/Echoes+-+The+Best+of+Pink+Floyd.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK4eJTD0hNMlqoDa1lq7RQbVuhiv6C7Ji2EmV2V72BN_adAOesaMFocBLr9uxzWt7rNHHPDmRO9ululiB7F9wdSKqnAg2O74h9HdqQzTRva7e2gM75t3bEfBm3igxQweo_UWIH3Xj0K5bh/s320/Echoes+-+The+Best+of+Pink+Floyd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228212177744784354" border="0" /></a>Following the release of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Division Bell </span>in March 1994, the three remaining members of Pink Floyd embarked on their largest ever tour. The tour, which took up the rest of the year, was captured on the live album <span style="font-style: italic;">Pulse </span>(1995) and the film shot at Earls Court in October 1994. All three members agree in retrospect that the band were in their prime¹, but after the tour David Gilmour announced that he had no desire to continue and put the band on 'semi-permanent hiatus'.² The next five years were unmarked, save for Rick Wright's second solo album <span style="font-style: italic;">Broken China </span>(1996) and the birth of Gilmour's four children with Polly Samson, whom he married during the tour. In 2000 fans were greeted with <span style="font-style: italic;">Is There Anybody Out There? The Wall Live 1980-1981</span>, a live cut of their groundbreaking shows at Earls Court twenty years before. Though it met with lukewarm reception from the critics, it left the fans eagerly wanting more.<br /><br />Predictably, we start at the beginning, with two tracks from the Syd Barrett era. The first, 'Astronomy Domine', is the opening track of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Piper At The Gates At Dawn </span>(1967). With its distinctive opening, it is a fitting way to kick off, as we beat, bleep and jaggedly riff our way in. It is tempting in hindsight to tar all pyschedelic rock with the same scornful brush, but this still sounds fresh and left-field forty-one years on. Rick Wright's keyboard and organ chords swirl through the mix to perfectly compliment Barrett's aggressive guitar, and it is all underscored with great, sharp drumming from Nick Mason.<br /><br />'See Emily Play', meanwhile, is a non-album single and no different in quality. The lyrics may be more accessible - not that that is saying a lot - but they remain quintessentially English, as does Barrett's delivery of them. With this you realise how much Wright is an essential part of the band throughout its lifespan. Here his cascading piano work lifts the chorus out of all accusations of tweeness, kicking the whole piece up its floury, Kenneth Grahame'd backside.<br /><br />So far, so predictable. But now, the compilation takes an unusual twist. No sooner have we reached the closing <span style="font-style: italic;">Plaaay-aaay-aaay</span>, than we notice the simple but broading bassline of a later work. A few second later, the whirr of a helicopter and the angry cry of a Glaswegian teacher fling us forward 12 years and into the paranoid darkness of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Wall </span>(1979). 'The Happiest Days Of Our Lives' and 'Another Brick In The Wall (Part 2)' together form a bitter, personal salvo against the repressive education system through which Roger Waters passed. The former track has a bass line which chisels its way into your skill, with Mason's hi-hat pulsating like an angry wasp. Waters darkly spits out the lyrics, moving from his throaty whisper to the fearsome higher registers with gusto and fright.<br /><br />The latter is well known for being Pink Floyd's only hit single, becoming the UK Christmas No. 1 of 1979. It's widely seen as a classic, and it isn't hard to see why. From the end of the blood-curdling scream, the simple beat is stuck in your beat. Gilmour's guitar work is subtle and yet very clever, rearing its head at just the right moments in the verses and choruses. The lyrics are wisely shared, which is odd considering Waters' megalomaniacal control of the album (and the band). But the cleverest thing about this song is that it appears to be more complicated than it actually is. Taken outside of the Floyd's image as over-serious and conceptual, the individual parts are all quite straightforward, and the lyrics could almost be called conventional. But together, these simple parts create something which is holistically very intricate, absolutely meticulous - and thoroughly rewarding.<br /><br />Having gone so well, we segue seamlessly into rather an odd choice. 'Echoes' is undoubtedly significant as a piece within the Floyd catalogue. Gilmour has often gone on record as saying that <span style="font-style: italic;">Meddle</span> (1971), from which this is taken, was the album which focussed the Floyd and decided the direction of all their great work. Be that as it may, the quality never really comes. You get hints of future brilliance, but that's all they are, hints. For example, in the second verse, we get the first inclination of Waters' empathetic lyrics:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Strangers passing in the street<br />By chance two separate glances meet<br />And I am you, and what I see is me<br />And do I take you by the hand<br />And lead you through the land<br />And help you understand the best I can?<br /><br /></span>All the ingredients for classic Floyd are lurking somewhere in this primordial pea-souper, whether it be Gilmour's singing and guitar work, Wright's delicate keyboards or Mason's underated drumming. But all you ever get are frustrating flashes from the abyss, and you come away feeling that your 16-and-a-half minutes could have been better spent.<br /><br />Listening to the next track, for instance. 'Hey You' is nowhere near as frustrating, confusing or drawn out. This track opens the second half of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Wall</span>, and finds Pink feeling regret for shutting out the world, to protect himself and spite those who made his life a misery. Even in his most bitter and vitriolic compositions - which <span style="font-style: italic;">The Wall </span>definitely is - Waters still expresses empathy, crying out in his lyrics for contact, for help, for something to save him. Gilmour's guitar solo halfway through ensures that this flows musically as well as lyrically, getting us back on track.<br /><br />'Marooned' is the first track from <span style="font-style: italic;">The Division Bell</span>, and has been abridged to 2:03 to allow enough space for the other tracks. But even if you only get a third of the song, it's worth it, because this is simply gorgeous. This composition, which won Pink Floyd their only Grammy (for<span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br />Best Rock Instrumental Performance, in 1994), is a beautifally laid-out guitar piece. The second the first long, yearning chord rings out of Gilmour's Stratocaster, you find yourself on a desert island, surrounded by clear blue water and completely alone. While Gilmour lets rip in the foreground, Wright grounds the piece in some simple but perfectly timed chords. Unlike the guitar instrumentals of say, Joe Satriani, this does not sound too clever for its own good, or like Gilmour is showing off. It's just... sublime.<br /><br />Sooner or later, we have to come to <span style="font-style: italic;">The Dark Side Of The Moon</span> (1973), so it's just as well we start with a good cut from it. 'The Great Gig In The Sky' is a trademark Rick Wright piece. He strokes the grand piano with such grace and sadness that you are ignorant of Gilmour's pedal steel and the voices echoing around - you just want to listen to him. That is, until Clare Torry comes in. Her famous vocal performance, completely improvised in one take, still sounds as original and as frightening as it did back in 1973. As you listen to it, you feel like you are being sucked down by an unseen current, drowning in a whirlpool of sound. No-one has ever emulated it, and no-one ever will.<br /><br />Following all this talk of death (so to speak), we step back in time to 'Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun'. Taken from <span style="font-style: italic;">A Saucerful Of Secrets </span>(1968), it's one of the first songs which features Waters on lead vocals. It's a shame, then, that you can't really hear what he's saying - the production places the lyrics right at the back of the mix, behind the drums, bass and hammond organ. It's not a complete disaster, though, because while such practice would be inexcusible among today's producers, here it gives the piece a mysterious texture. Waters has always been an intimidating figure, and this is the first glimpse we get of that.<br /><br />The last four tracks of the first half are all thoroughbred Floyd magic. First, we have 'Money', undoubtedly one of the greatest songs of the 1970s. Written in 7/8 time, it begins with the famous cash register and tape loops, before giving way to the instantly recognisable bass line. Everything about this track is absolutely tone-perfect. The instruments gel together perfectly, each coming in at the right stage and having a bigger say when the time is right. The rhythm is catchy beyond the point of madness; nobody can resist the beat. The saxophone solo from Dick Parry is elegant, and the jump in time signature (from 7/8 to 4/4) is, quite simply, exceptional; it frees up Mason to go just that little bad more wild, as he wrestles with Gilmour's wailing Strat. Lyrically, it's a playful, ironic and tasteful one-in-the-eye for the fat cats of the day and materialism in general. It is a true work of genius.<br /><br />'Keep Talking' is also genius, but in an entirely different way. This<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>segues in from 'Money' with no sign of any join, so that we suddenly jump from 1970s materialism to 1990s isolation and sadness. The track gets going with the cameo of Stephen Hawking, culled from the series of adverts he did for BT in the mid-1980s. Backed by his bristling Fender, Gilmour launches into his vocals, in a delivery which crosses the sinister whisper of Waters with the sadness and sense of loss which he has personally mastered. The band feels incredibly tight, with Mason being allowed plenty to room to experiment without going mad. And all the time, Wright keeps things in check, being rewarded with a fleeting solo. The best thing about this track, though, is its sense of honesty. With earlier Floyd tracks - on the previous album, for instance - you could get away with criticising them for pandering to popular feeling and not being genuine. But not with this.<br /><br />'Sheep' is the only track on here from <span style="font-style: italic;">Animals </span>(1977), a concept album which draws inspiration from George Orwell's <span style="font-style: italic;">Animal Farm </span>(1945). Wright's keyboard part in the opening minute is dark, forbidding and distant, like a singing child in a horror film. Soon he is joined by the menacing burble of Waters' bass, as it slowly scrapes its way into the darkest corners of your mind. The lyrics are Waters in his prime, a bizarre but compelling mix of empathy, vitriol and socialism. He paints the 'sheep', the ignorant masses who are blind to the dark fate which awaits them, as if he is one of them - <span style="font-style: italic;">I've looked over Jordan and I've seen/ Things are not what they seem</span>. Aside from the excellent lyrics, this song is hugely energetic. For the first seven minutes, we get verses like carefully-timed machine-gun volleys. But then, at 8:07, it all kicks off, Mason goes mental and the whole band explode with an energy which had not been seen from since the days of 'Careful With That Axe Eugene'. It's absolutely stunning.<br /><br />We end the first half with a fourth stonker, in the shape of 'Sorrow'. This is the first track from <span style="font-style: italic;">A Momentary Lapse Of Reason </span>(1987, #62), and it's not hard to spot the difference in sound, let alone tempo. But the darkness, the sadness, the loss and the regret are still there. The guitar part, played on a Steinberger GL ('headless guitar'), cuts in over the fading rampage of 'Sheep', and is deeper, more metallic - more Tangerine Dream than English art rock. The lyrics borrow from John Steinbeck's <span style="font-style: italic;">The Grapes of Wrath </span>(1939); the yearning for a fairer world is still there, but here the pain and anguish is turned inward, so that you are looking at a personal devastation without the blinkers of class war. This is a great arena rock song - it's heavy, it's determined, and as with the best music the Floyd produced, it reflects both the situation of the band and of the world around them, without coming across as simpering or self-obsessed along the way.<br /><br />The second half begins with the longest track on the compilation. 'Shine On You Crazy Diamond' (Parts I-VII)' clocks in at an almighty 17:32, and for that we don't even get the whole suite. What do we do get is all three verses - split between songs on <span style="font-style: italic;">Wish You Were Here </span>(1975) - and a choice pick of the stuff in between. Purists and sound geeks will scoff at the absence of certain little sections, but for the the rest of us it doesn't really matter. The mood is still one of absence, the subject matter - Syd - is still in the foreground, and it still sounds pretty damn good.<br /><br />'Time' takes us back two years and plants us back into everyman territory<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span>. The opening, parodied in later Floyd records, remains familiar and captivating, with its superb combination of deep clicks, heady guitars and teasing drumming. Waters' lyrics flow perfectly between the chords, especially on the choruses: Wright sings <span style="font-style: italic;">Tired of lying in the sunshine/ Stay and home to watch for rain </span>backed by a glorious foursome of female singers who glide up and down the scales. Despite its philosophical themes - the passage of time and the feeling of being lost in life - it retains an essential Englishness, captured astutely in the line <span style="font-style: italic;">Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way</span>.<br /><br />Following these genteel musings, we flash forward ten years to more serious times. 'The Fletcher Memorial Home' is the only morsel on here from <span style="font-style: italic;">The Final Cut </span>(1983, #49), and it comes across as a big jump. Where 'Time' was reassuring and titillating, this is direct, angry and despairing. It is a quietly savage attack on the failure of 'the post-war dream'. Waters snarls through the lyrics with this precise thing in mind: his critique is reigned in by the grief he feels for his lost father. It may not be all that easy on the ears, but after a few listens you become fully aware of its power.<br /><br />'Comfortably Numb' is a classic, easily one of the best known and most-loved Pink Floyd songs. Taken from <span style="font-style: italic;">The Wall</span>, it's also one of the few occassions where Waters and Gilmour collaborated on songwriting. Waters takes the verses, playing the doctor examining Pink and recommending a series of drugs to get the rock star back on his feet:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Okay<br />Just a little pin-prick<br />They're be no more AAAAAAAAAA-AAAA-AAAH!<br />But you may feel a little sick</span><br /><br />Gilmour meanwhile takes the chorus, singing as a dreamy, lethargic Pink on the brink of turning into a fascist monster. The song is majestic, with its guitar solo that was recently voted the greatest ever - and it's not hard to see why.³ Gilmour soars throughout the song, making his Strat sing and whine and cry in distress like the soul of Pink himself. It is one of their great compositions, better than anything the band threw up in the 1980s, and an art rock anthem which stands the test of time better than anything else of its kind.<br /><br />Sticking with <span style="font-style: italic;">The Wall</span>, sort of, we now come to 'When The Tigers Broke Free', a track conceived purely for the film version and only released as a seperate entity on the 2004 remaster of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Final Cut</span>. A misfit, lyrically it sticks to the themes of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Wall </span>- in this case the loss of the main character's father in war - but they follow the more sprawling pattern of Waters' solo work. Which is appropriate, really, since this is him atoning for his father's death, in full voice, while swiping at the authorities with his usual vim and venom.<br /><br />'One Of These Days', meanwhile, is proper old-school Floyd. The duelling basses power their way through the mix as Gilmour doubles up. Wright dashes back and forth, fading in and out organ chords which cut through like scimatars. When the guitars finally arrive, the song erupts, slowly at first, but then everything boils over. This track, from <span style="font-style: italic;">Meddle</span>, is Mason's chance to shine, and he does, taking a simple, repetitive drum part and turning into a wondefully astute solo (N.B. For an even larrier version, see his performance in the film <span style="font-style: italic;">Live At Pompeii </span>(1972)).<br /><br />As with so many of the choices on this album, 'Us And Them' follows the tried-and-tested method of ordering songs: a loud one, followed by a quiet one. Like a lot of things on <span style="font-style: italic;">The Dark Side Of The Moon</span>, this piano-led, jazzy piece fell into place simply as a result of chords tumbling out of fingers, in this case Wright's. His four chord verse - complete with that magic third chord - creates a lilting, rolling soundscape over which Waters can calmly decry the futility of war. With these two ingredients in place, you slip into a state of summery relaxation, interrupted only by the 'musings' of roadie Roger "The Hat" Manifold.<br /><br />If, on the off-chance, this has sent you to sleep, then the next track will wake you up like nothing else. 'Learning To Fly' bursts forth, breaking free from its mountings and hurling you head first into the 1980s. Essentially a Floyd take on arena rock, the lyrics speak of starting anew with little certainty of what lies ahead - <span style="font-style: italic;">A Momentary Lapse Of Reason</span>, indeed. Like the aeroplane in the lyrics, Gilmour soars in his delivery, gracing any difficult notes which he encounters with an air of expectant disaffection. Mason, meanwhile, creates another great drum beat to lock into Gilmour, with its quirky tambourine and off-set beats in the third quarter of the phrase. It's another Floyd classic, and one of the highlights of the later years.<br /><br />'Arnold Layne', as good as it is, cannot compete with the likes of 'Learning To Fly'. The band's first single, sung of course by Syd, is still as quaint, as English and as psychedelic as the date it was conceived. But after such high-quality, spacious production and deep, serious and meaningful subject matter, somehow a playful song about a transvestite seems jarring. No matter, because 'Wish You Were Here' is here to rescue the mood. With its deliberately garbled and muffled opening, you could be forgiven for thinking we have a duffer on our hands. But once the acoustic comes through at 0:53, all your fears are allayed and you settle back into this graceful, earthy tribute to the band's lost singer. The lyrics, well-known and much-parodied, pay tribute without seeming trite, are conceptual without being ridiculous and flow beautifully.<br /><br />Syd persists, however, as if these last songs were a battle, seeing him reassert his influence in the band's back catalogue. Indeed, the opening lines of 'Jugband Blues' add weight to that theory: <span style="font-style: italic;">It's awfully considerate of you to think of me here/ And I'm most obliged to you for making it clear/ That I'm not here</span>! This was written as Syd was slipping deep into LSD abuse. As a result it's unhinged, honest and incredibly mad. It's a marmite song - if you love it, it's a bizarre gem written as the 1960s began to turn on its children; if you hate it, it's a case study of a druggie losing his mind and wasting our time (cf. Peter Green's <span style="font-style: italic;">The End Of The Game </span>(1970)).<br /><br />Soon the church bells begin to chime and we come to 'High Hopes', the final song on the Floyd's final album. Once again, Wright's piano creates a mood of melancholy, sadness and regret, while Gilmour's lyrics and delivery are absolutely magnificent. His voice is so perfectly suited to this song that it can barely be put into words. Even at the end of their career, there is no sense of decline or wear to tarnish the result. In many ways, this song is an allegory for the Floyd as they were then, looking back on a long and illustrious life of joys and regrets, before finally deciding that this is the time to retreat into the shadows. This is a fabulous eulogy to their fans and an extraordinary piece of music in its own right, which, like <span style="font-style: italic;">The Division Bell </span>itself, deserves pride of place.<br /><br />But that isn't the end of proceedings. The spirit of Syd is conjured up once more, in the form of 'Bike', as an impish reminder to later fans that without him, stuff like 'High Hopes' would never have happened. The song, lifted from <span style="font-style: italic;">The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn</span>, is a punchy 3-minute single. It plays with your senses, winding down on the chorus before clattering atonally into the next verse. It's a very strange choice for the closer, and the squawking birds at the end don't help.<br /><br />Any attempt to make a definitive Pink Floyd compilation was always destined to come up short. Not only is the band's material best viewed in terms of albums rather than individual songs, but the task was made harder by getting all four members to agree on the songs and their order. If nothing else, we have here something which is a great deal more thought out, more comprehensive and more purposeful than previous compilations, like <span style="font-style: italic;">Relics </span>(1971) and <span style="font-style: italic;">Works </span>(1983). All the well-known stuff is here so that new and casual listeners can find their way into the band; and to satisfy established ears, we get the odd surprise inclusion and little-known classics. But this is still not a <span style="font-style: italic;">definitive </span>collection - there is nothing from <span style="font-style: italic;">Ummagumma </span>(1969) and <span style="font-style: italic;">Atom Heart Mother</span> (1970), nor is there anything from the band's soundtrack work; while there are relatively esoteric and acquired tastes, without them it is not complete. And yet, <span style="font-style: italic;">Echoes</span> is worthwhile because of the way it is produced. James Guthrie's segueing of the tracks into one another, coupled with their unconventional ordering, gives it a unique sound. As you drift back and forth in time, you chance upon each track in turn, like exploring the rooms of a huge old house, or having a very long, very strange dream. You will need patience (and an open mind) to get through <span style="font-style: italic;">Echoes </span>in one sitting, but if you do you will be rewarded with glimpses of some of the greatest music ever written.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">3.92 out of 5<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">References</span><br />¹ 'P*U*L*S*E Podcast - Part 1', Brain Damage Podcasts, available at http://www.brain-damage.co.uk/. Accessed on July 29 2008.<br />² Nick Mason, <span style="font-style: italic;">Inside Out: A Personal History of Pink Floyd</span>, ed. Philip Dodd (London: Phoenix, 2005), p.333.<br />³ 'Pink Floyd guitar solo sits comfortably at first place', <span style="font-style: italic;">The Guardian</span>, August 28 2006,<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2006/aug/28/arts.artsnews. Accessed on August 15 2008.<br /></div></div>Daniel Mumbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08420635084572153150noreply@blogger.com0