Many have been called, but few have deserved to be chosen as the subject of a tribute more than the uncompromising Lee Hazlewood. It isn't just that he's written and recorded so many timeless compositions over the years, but that there are so many potential fans -- particularly those born after his heyday in the 1960s -- yet to discover them (or who may know him only as the mustachioed hipster who once sang a few numbers with go-go boot-era Nancy Sinatra). Fortunately, some of his younger followers have been helping to get the word out, like Sonic Youth's Steve Shelley, who has released/reissued a number of recordings (including 1999's bizarrely titled Farmisht, Flatulence, Origami, ARF!!! and me...) on his Smells Like label. Now Astralwerks, best known for such forward-thinking electronic musicians as the Chemical Brothers, have done their part, in association with City Slang, in burnishing Hazlewood's burgeoning reputation with this decidedly un-digital disc (which is to say that the emphasis is more on twangy guitars and sorrowful strings than samplers and synthesizers). One of the finest renderings happens to be of one of Hazlewood's finest songs, "Some Velvet Morning," performed by the Webb Brothers with just the right degree of dreamlike majesty. Of course, it's easy to nitpick a project of this nature. While the inclusion of the spooky, cinematic Tindersticks couldn't possibly make more sense, where's Nick Cave -- or Giant Sand for that matter? Fortunately, Calexico (essentially Giant Sand sans Howe Gelb) represents the Arizona contingent of the Hazlewood fan club with "Sundown, Sundown." As a special bonus, the CD booklet is a deluxe affair featuring numerous photographs of a groovy young Hazlewood along with copious liner notes about each interpretation by the man himself.
Taking a short break from his decade-long leadership of the Wah! convolutions, Pete Wylie's debut solo album caught him placing the recent eclecticism of the mothership to one side, to concentrate instead on a dance-friendly barrage of hooks and anthems, nailed into place by (among others) producer Zeus B Held -- his recent work with fellow Liverpudlians Dead or Alive certainly informs Wylie's Sinful ambitions, but so does Wah!'s own widescreen epic "Come Back." The middle ground that those two sources settle on is as invigorating as it ought to be.
The opening title track, a Top 20 hit four years before Wylie revisited it with the Farm, lays out the album's stall, a punchy singalong anthem driven by echoing drums, massed-chorale vocals, and throbbing electronics. The insistent urgency with which Wylie can relate the most mundane lyric, too, adds to the effect -- you come out of any one of the album's eight songs convinced that Wylie is wasted in a rock context. He should be conducting the Last Night of the Proms. The epic "Fourelevenfortyfour," the over-excited "Shoulder to Shoulder," and the positively triumphant "All the Love" all add immeasurably to the air of utter grandiosity that surrounds Sinful -- this is not an album for listening to quietly on your Ipod while waiting for a bus. It's one to pipe into the Super Bowl, to drown the sound of "Rock and Roll" beneath its own all-purpose stadium stomp, "We Can Rule the World." And, on this form, Wylie could have.
The Beautiful South
Make a list of the qualities that define great pop music and you've got a pretty fair description of the Beautiful South's debut release.
From the first track to the last, the album brims with good old-fashioned melodies, the kind of chirpy, slightly jazzy music that helps get a person out of bed in the morning. Lead singer Paul Heaton mixes the high-register emoting of a '50s teen heartthrob with more sophisticated soul, in the style of Fine Young Cannibals vocalist Roland Gift. Harmonies and guitar solos, like carefully rationed punctuation, enhance Heaton's singing without ever obscuring the melody.
This British quintet performs its best trick by hiding a tough core underneath the candy-sweet surface: Heaton's wickedly satirical and sometimes impassioned lyrics. "Song for Whoever" is a merciless parody of a songwriter who can't remember the names of the lovers he immortalizes in his effusive lyrics. "Oh Blackpool" makes fun of people who know it's cool to be political but aren't sure which cause they're supposed to favor at the moment.
Taking his tongue out of his check, Heaton sings "Woman in the Wall," an appeal for vengeance for a wife who suffers silently from the beatings of her alcoholic husband. "I'll Sail This Ship Alone," the album's most beautiful tune, captures with insight the mixed feelings that follow a romantic breakup.
The Beautiful South's success rests on more than beginner's luck.
Experience is one obvious factor. Heaton and backup singer Dave Hemmingway were in the Housemartins, a quartet that released a couple of excellent albums.
For another thing, Heaton and Hemmingway made a shrewd decision by sticking with the wit and bright pop music that made the Housemartins so appealing. And that's what we like about the South
There is also a Japanese reissue released in 2004. It features all eleven original songs, plus five additional bonus tracks
Though her collaborations with Tricky, Orbital, and Add N To X focused on the sheer beauty and power of her singing, on her debut album Felt Mountain Allison Goldfrapp also explores more straightforward styles. Together with composer/multi-instrumentalist Will Gregory, Goldfrapp wraps her unearthly voice around songs that borrow from '60s pop, cabaret, folk, and electronica without sounding derivative or unfocused. From the sci-fi/spy film hybrids "Human" and "Lovely Head" to the title track's icy purity, the duo strikes a wide variety of poses, giving Felt Mountain a stylized, theatrical feel that never veers into campiness. Though longtime fans of Goldfrapp's voice may wish for more the exuberant, intoxicating side of her sound, lovelorn ballads like "Pilots," "Deer Stop," and "Horse's Tears" prove that she is equally able at carrying -- and writing -- more traditional tunes. A strange and beautiful mix of the romantic, eerie, and world-weary, Felt Mountain is one of 2000's most impressive debuts.
Make no mistake: Black Box Recorder are malevolent scoundrels. Their debut album -- England Made Me -- was a distressing, vacant eye staring over the unspoken horror of everyday England, so one wondered where they could go from there. With The Facts Of Life, they moved that voyeuristic, cynical stare away from suicide and car crashes and focused it on small-town dating and disenchanted sex lives. Strangely enough, the horror feels the same. Songs like the utterly menacing hook of "The Art of Driving" will chill even the most neutral of listeners, while the John Barry-influenced "Weekend" strolls along with such desolate grace that it's just subtly elegant. Vocalist Sarah Nixey sings with impassioned distance that serves up the disparagement nicely. Lines such as "Don't even look at me 'till we're alone," "Careful not to touch, we've drunk enough/Just another weekend falling," or "Read the message on the bottle/Go and drink yourself to death" probably won't become national anthems anytime soon. All the better for it, then. As in BBR's debut, the same barren instrumentation and distanced vocals are still here, but this time around, there seems to be a pop sensibility that evokes far more seditious strengths than ever before. This produces a delightfully sinister contradiction. "Straight Life," for instance, has Nixey chiming, "It's a beautiful morning," and only BBR could make such a statement sound truly sardonic. The closing "Goodnight Kiss" is also brimming with beauty, yet -- at heart -- still a song with pained regret. All this doesn't even begin to get near the marvel that is the title track, either. "The Facts of Life" is found nestled in the album's core and it still glares at you like a Stanley Kubrick-directed All Saints production. Simple, gorgeous, chart-friendly, and just plain evil, it is undoubtedly one of the most subversive singles ever written. Indeed, clocking in at just under 40 minutes, The Facts Of Life is a precise, meticulous, deeply disturbing experience. The album is proof that there's still life in pop music. Subversion has rarely sounded this startling.
If The Aloof's first album, Cover The Crime, was a classic in terms of dubby-punky-finky-techno workouts, Sinking is the motorship. A riot of sun kissed dub, punky techno and variations on a tough but melodic theme, there's a variety of delights to be found between its grooves. Given the CVs and experience of The Aloof crew members (from long time DJ Dean Thatcher to Sabres Of Paradise cohorts Jagz Kooner and Gary Burns), this should come as no surprise. The hypnotic spin of Stuck On The Shelf sets the tone for much of what is to follow. There's an ace cinematic wash to some of the album's textures: Hot Knives At Lunchtime could have fitted with ease on to the Trainspotting soundtrack, while The Last Stand is as epic and grandstand as they come. Beyond the instrumentals, though, it's Ricky Barrow's lyrics and voice which pull you into the heart of the album. Downbeat songs about relationships gone wrong have never sounded so cool.
We Are Icerink is a collection documenting the label run by Saint Etienne's Bob Stanley and Pete Wiggs between 1992 and 1994. They released nine singles and EPs during that time; this disc collects highlights from those releases plus some songs by friends and kindred spirits. The sound of the label is unabashedly pop, ranging from the knucklehead glam stomp of Earl Brutus' "Birth of Sharon" to the punky disco pop of Sensurround's "When I Get to Heaven" to the girl power punk of Shampoo's ridiculous "Bouffant Headbutt" to the cool instrumental French pop of Spring's "Bob Cool" to the bedroom toytown pop sound of Melody Dog's cover of the Beach Boys' "Don't Worry Baby." Unsurprisingly, a few of the bands sound like Saint Etienne. Golden's Stanley/Wiggs-penned "Don't Destroy Me" is a beautifully understated ballad that would have gone down as a treat on any Etienne record, the same with Elizabeth City State's sophisticated "V-neck" and Oval's "Love Hour" (pity that the band's cover of Def Leppard's "Photograph" wasn't included). There are a couple of surprises on the disc, as well, like Supermarket's campy "Supermarket," a Kraftwerk-esque techno track created by Lawrence from Felt, An added bonus is the final track on the disc: "World of Twist's New Electric Pop and Soul" is a great barnstorming dance track by one of the forgotten bands of Brit pop that is unavailable elsewhere. Icerink was one of the best-kept secrets of the early-'90s British pop scene. Track down this collection and uncover some amazing pop music
Not long after the release of A Northern Soul, the Verve imploded due to friction between vocalist Richard Ashcroft and guitarist Nick McCabe. It looked like the band had ended before reaching its full potential, which is part of the reason why their third album, Urban Hymns -- recorded after the pair patched things up in late 1996 -- is so remarkable. Much of the record consists of songs Ashcroft had intended for a solo project or a new group, yet Urban Hymns unmistakably sounds like the work of a full band, with its sweeping, grandiose soundscapes and sense of purpose. The Verve have toned down their trancy, psychedelic excursions, yet haven't abandoned them -- if anything, they sound more muscular than before, whether it's the trippy "Catching the Butterfly" or the pounding "Come On." These powerful, guitar-drenched rockers provide the context for Ashcroft's affecting, string-laden ballads, which give Urban Hymns its hurt. The majestic "Bitter Sweet Symphony & Lucky Man" and the heartbreaking, country-tinged "The Drugs Don't Work" are an astonishing pair, two anthemic ballads that make the personal universal, thereby sounding like instant classics. They just are the tip of the iceberg -- "Sonnet" is a lovely, surprisingly understated ballad, "The Rolling People" has a measured, electric power, and many others match their quality. Although it may run a bit too long for some tastes, Urban Hymns is a rich album that revitalizes rock traditions without ever seeming less than contemporary. It is the album the Verve have been striving to make since their formation, and it turns out to be worth all the wait.
