Monday 4 July 2016

3. Florence + The Machine – ‘How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful’ (2015)


Having scored big with her indie-baroque debut and majestic sophomore album, Florence + The Machine’s latest effort sits smack bang in the middle of both, but doesn’t quite have the impact of either.

Florence Welch is, and has been for some time, the premier female voice of indie chart rock; a swaying English rose churning out fine pop gems. I saw Flo+Machine (as I will refer to them from here on in) perform at Alexandra Palace last September. I can recall her energy as she leapt across the stage, the power of her voice throughout the show, and how every performance was a corker.

Being promoted on that tour, was Flo+Machine’s latest release, How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful, coming nearly four years after the incredible Ceremonials. During this time Florence took time to breathe and stave off a mental breakdown, while reassessing her songcrafting skills in the process. We are supposedly led to believe this latest offering is the finest fruit from this hiatus, and it’s actually rather convincing. There are some cracking tracks on this record, melodic and full of drama. 

Understandably for How Big, Flo+Machine didn’t want to repeat past sonic successes, and so did away with the orchestra and production which characterised Ceremonials. Perhaps Ms. Welch has been listening to Björk's 'Volta' at the time - there are strings aplenty, but the main band is stripped down and this time around the defining musical “feature” on the album is the presence of a full brass band.  Featuring in the majority of the 11 tracks, its a bold yet strangely warming sound which imbues the songs with a touch of regality.  It’s the perfect setting for Ms. Welch’s vocal warm ups, progressing from breathy low croaks to histrionic wails.

My pick of the songs is ‘Queen of Peace’, a honking, epic stomper with a wonderful chorus hook – it compels you to sing along even if you don’t know the words (and I still don’t after many listens to be honest).  ‘Ship To Wreck’ is a refreshing opener, a reminder to listeners of the energy that you’ve missed from this band for the last four years. The title track is one of the lengthier cuts, but justified by a triptych of beautiful phases: keyboards and vocals to start, then the drums and band kick in only to breakdown halfway through, leaving the brass and orchestra to belt out the chord progression to fade out. Lead single ‘What Kind Of Man’ has a catchy clap-along feel not completely dissimilar to something past stable mates The Tings Tings might have churned out in their heyday, but this is a harsh comparison since the song is actually quite good. My only complaint is that the song only really takes off after nearly a minute of build up, which I deem is too long for most – this will come on in the car and I’ll say “What IS this?” and skip it.

This brings me to some of the weaker points of How Big. The winding ‘Various Storms & Saints’ is, like its title somewhat vague and despite being redeemed by Ms. Welch’s glottal shrieks, its still a bit too meandering for my liking.  I’ve also noticed that roughly halfway through each Flo+Machine album is a token wallowy, mid-tempo track. On Lungs it was ‘Between Two Lungs’, on Ceremonials it was ‘Breaking Down’ and for How Big its ‘Caught’. These are not awful songs per se, but they’re just so dowdy and throwaway you simply sigh and move on to the next track.

The latter half of the album is a mixed bag. ‘Third Eye’ has a catchy backing vocal hook borrowed from an 80’s pop hit (I’m still trying to think which one!). ‘St Jude’ refers to the “Patron Saint of lost causes”, though not entirely sure of the relevance here. The album closer ‘Mother’ is quite lovely, harking back to early 70s classic rock (I’m thinking Roxy Music and Pink Floyd) with it’s funky bassline, swirling guitars and hypnotic drumbeats.

What you’re left with however, by the time the album finishes, is the question of whether what you’ve listened through was consistent enough to be enduring, and sadly it’s not quite there.  I think the main issue here is the spacing of the tracks: Lungs had a large scattering of good tracks evenly spaced throughout the album, and How Big is a bit like Lungs but less carefully balanced.  The better songs are bunched at the beginning, and a couple of highlights see the album out, but the middle section of record is unmemorable. It’s still a good effort, but after Ceremonials, which was an exceptionally strong set of songs, I feel myself plumping for that every time.


7/10

Tuesday 7 June 2016

2. David Bowie – ‘Heathen’ (2002)



Celestial, considered and compelling; Bowie enters the noughties as the elder statesman of rock, presenting the finest album in his artistic renaissance.

It would seem only fitting that my first review is for my all-time favourite album, from my all-time favourite artist. I had always been aware of David Bowie’s work since I was a kid, and from about 2001 I began listening to his music properly, investing a lot of time and money in his vast discography. His untimely death in January 2016 was devastating, and testament to his influence and legacy it sparked what became effectively days of global mourning.

Heathen has a special place in my heart for me. It is my Desert Island Disc. Released on 11 June 2002, I can still recall the build up in the press for Bowie’s “comeback album”, and after a fantastic performance of lead single ‘Slow Burn’ a fortnight earlier, I was there at my local Virgin Megastore when the doors opened, picked up my copy (the deluxe edition of course) and went home to listen to it, where it went on to become my soundtrack to that whole year (and indeed many years after).

If the beautiful sepia-tinted artwork gives you no indication of what’s in store, then the repetitive bleeps and synthesized backing choir of ‘Sunday’ which greet you upon firing up the album, set the tone: immediately forbidding and somewhat secular. Bowie’s groaning vocal comes in, followed soon after by crackly Björk-esque electronic percussion, gradually building to a crescendo at the end of the track.

Tony Visconti’s production is wonderful; such a relief from the lovely but seemingly under-produced ‘Hours…’ three years earlier. Heathen sounds expensive. Grungy guitars and clean, precise drums are woven in with walls of layered backing vocals and strings, with flourishes of brass and electronica thrown in. At the forefront is Bowie in fine vocal fettle, with remarkable range for a 55-year-old man. What makes each track so compelling to listen through is the fine detail however; from the shifting drum beats frantically marking out each section of ‘Afraid’, to the squealing cry of a Stylophone ringing out the final refrains of ‘Slip away’, there is something for you to discover with every listen.

There are three cover versions on Heathen; all unique takes but they fit in with the overall atmospherics of the album. ‘Cactus’ (a Pixies cover) is more accessible than the original yet still off-kilter and edgy (I particularly love the tongue-in-cheek sound of drumsticks falling to the ground at the end of the track). Neil Young’s ‘I’ve Been Waiting For You’ (my pick of the three) has a confident swagger and one of the harder rock moments on the album (Dave Grohl is the guest guitarist here). Finally there is the pulsing eccentricity of The Legendary Stardust Cowboy's ‘I Took A Trip On A Gemini Spaceship’, which sees Bowie’s breathy vocal swoop high and low through synth strings and frenetic drum loops.

More importantly, the original material is better than the covers. ‘Slow Burn’ is dark and brooding, showcasing Pete Townshend’s aggressive and jittery guitar work. The wistful, melancholy ‘Slip Away’ has Bowie reminiscing obscure TV show characters to a nursery-rhyme melody. ‘5.15 The Angels Have Gone’ is a dramatic highlight, resplendent with more layered vocals and plaintive guitar and piano figures, fading into the upbeat but ultimately sad ‘Everyone Says ‘Hi’’, where it could be interpreted that Bowie is talking to someone who has passed away.

The songwriting is excellent throughout. The events of 9/11 (which happened around the time of recording and post-production) are suggested to have been an influence, but considering most of the compositions were already completed by this time, the connections are scant at best. In fact, throughout the entire recording and writing process in early 2001, Bowie would arrive early at Allaire Mountain Studios, looking out at the sun rising over uptown New York City. He thought about religion, his family (he had recently become a father for the second time), and eventual mortality, and these influenced his compositions. The overall theme of the record is more spiritual than religious. The final track ‘Heathen (The Rays)’ for example was, as Bowie put it  “about knowing that you’re dying”; the last few moments of life ebbing away as the song fades out. Of course with Bowie, nothing is entirely clear and everything is open to interpretation.

There will be days where I don’t fancy listening to this album, or if I do I may skip a couple of the tracks, but it is an incredible set of songs.  Regardless of the critic’s comments that it is an “eclectic” choice in the Bowie canon, I really can’t recommend this album enough. Listen through it. Enjoy the delightful nuances it has to offer. All Bowie fans have one album that towers above all others, and this is mine.

10/10.

1. Introduction - Into The Great Wide Open...

Hello there and welcome to my music blog! Come in and make yourself comfortable.

Just a quick introduction to this site:

I initially started this blog many moons ago, but it was quite generic; wrote a dozen-or-so entries and things pretty much dried up soon after. It wasn’t because I couldn’t be bothered – of the pieces I had written only about half ended up getting finished and posted. I guess I had deemed the rest too ranty or uninteresting for anyone other than myself. Moreover, I realised my blog was getting too intimate and quite frankly nobody needs to read about that stuff. ‘Tis better to retain some mystique, no?

So I have decided to reboot and write about music. Album reviews, specifically. I decided this would be a good project as it allows me to talk about the music I am listening to beyond Twitter, and thus not horrendously condensing everything down to one hundred and forty characters. I am not musically trained nor a professional writer, but I am passionate about music and I like to talk about it. All the time. Sometimes I go on with an almost fanatical level of detail (ever seen ‘American Psycho’?) but feel that a blog is far better a soundboard than my partner’s ear.

More importantly, it means I have to listen to an album in its entirety, as I have too often spent upwards of thirteen quid on a CD only to listen to the singles.

This will mean that I will review albums of different genres, old and new. Most I will already own, and some I don’t. Of course there may be a little bit of bias (as my taste in music is supreme) but I will try and give my honest opinion.  I like most genres of music (my main areas of interest are Rock and Pop, mainly 70s through to noughties), and if there is a particular album you think I should listen to, then drop me a line. I do have reservations though…

Which brings me onto housekeeping:

  1. All reviews are written by me and formed from my own opinion. If you disagree with my comments, then I’m sorry but that’s too bad.
  2. While music suggestions are appreciated, I may not be able to fulfil all - Life is too short to have to listen to a whole album by an artist you loathe.
  3. I tend not to listen to a “trending” artist; instead preferring to wait for the hype and discussions to calm down before giving their work a go.
I rate albums out of 10:

10  – A truly exceptional album; a milestone achievement and an essential purchase.
8-9 – An excellent album; one of the highlights in an artists’ discography and highly recommended.
6-7 – A good album with some consistently fine moments; definitely worth a listen.
4-5 – An average album, with a few key cuts.
2-3 – A disappointing album, with possibly only one or two good moments.
0-1  A very poor piece of work; not worth your time or money.

Still reading? Then onwards and upwards, and thanks.

Simon.