Album Reviews

The Welsh group’s latest album is a sprawling, densely packed ambitious affair, filled with bouncy/sludgy ‘60’s pop melodic vistas that often sink into mysterious, dark, twisted musical and violent lyrical undergrowth. Lead singer Gruff Rhys’s chocolate-coated vocals are the perfect foil for the fatalistic, slyly rendered subject matter: the war in Iraq, war in general, pollution, petro-chemical mayhem, and even a song seemingly about two pet turtles named Venus and Serena (“Flushing meadows down the stream/Living life as though it’s a dream”). All of it is delivered lightly dusted with tuneful confectioner’s sugar.

This eclectic instrumental group combines synth, drums, guitars, bass and cello to produce a hard driving, propulsive percussive sound that's  rich with scraping, edgy textures one minute and warm, inviting and lagoon-like the next—though almost always with strong forward motion.

The first Costello album backed by The Attractions released in March, 1978 on Radar in the UK and Columbia in America (with differing song lineups) cemented the singer’s leadership in the “angry young man” wing of the late ‘70’s “New Wave” musical explosion. More than expressing anger, the album was a full-blown misogynist outburst that contains some really nasty stuff starting with the opener “No Action,” which is filled some deliciously ugly obsessive/compulsive sentiments.

In his 35 year recording career with Fairport Convention, with ex-wife Linda, and on his own, Richard Thompson has made some great records and some that were ill-conceived and didn’t work, but none, in my opinion, that could be declared complete failures. Thompson’s guitar always pulled him through the weaker episodes, even as the team of Mitchell Froom and Tchad Blake often sabotaged his sound during the late ‘80s/early ‘90s with their overproduction, studio tricks and other superflous sonic thickets. That’s just my opinion, and for all I know, Thompson loved that stuff. Maybe you’re a long-time fan who stayed away during that period, despite some superb songwriting and performances: 1991’s Rumor and Sigh (Capitol EST 2142 LP) for instance, which included the mischievous “I Feel So Good,” and the transcendent “1952 Vincent Black Lightning.”

Never mind that the tape has some occasional serious dropout, never mind that the legendary performance of the title track “One Down, One Up” commences mid way through the tune during a Jimmy Garrison bass solo, never mind that these performances are station dubs from live radio broadcasts, never mind Alan Grant’s radio announcements sprinkled throughout, and never mind that this treasure trove is probably not in the same league historically as the Thelonious Monk/John Coltrane Carnegie Hall concert unearthed at the National Archives and issued by Mosaic on vinyl recently (MQ1-231).